The Hero's Revenge Pt. 2

Fidan traveled into the land of the witches; a foolish mistake to be sure. Any man that dares enter their territory had a target put on their back. He paid no mind to this warning as he slowly rode his horse in the night. All he could hear was the sound of his horse's gallop and a *thud* following behind him.

With his hand on his sword, he patiently waited for whatever creature to attack. Nothing happened however and he started to become paranoid. That’s when the sound began changing. *Thump* *Thump* *Thump* followed by the *clunk* of the gallop.

His heart began to race and so the sound became louder and faster. He could feel the eyes peering through the darkness at him. Waiting, their mouths salivating and their bloodlust unmatched. Soon all he could hear was the sound of his heart beating out of control. He couldn’t take suspense any longer.

“Come out of hiding you filthy witches, I have a deal to make with you”, he screamed at the creaking willow trees of the forest. Still no response. He shouted again and heard the pitter-patter of small feet running. “Fucking goblins”, he muttered under his breath. He had no choice but to follow the road until he came across a town.

His heart started to return to normal, but he could feel an evil presence in the forest still lurking. He traveled until sunrise eventually coming across a small village that seemed to be abandoned. He took a moment to rest and explore the village. He walked through a dainty little hut with animal bones strewn across the ceiling. Spell books scattered on the ground and potions littering the worktable. He spit on the ground cursing the witches.

Next, he entered a small inn, which was barren and filled with cobwebs. The chairs and tables stacked neatly as if waiting to be used. There was moldy bread sitting on the bar along with some foul-smelling drinks. It was as someone had up and left in a hurry.

The last building, he explored was their church. Inside was a statue of a demon with a goat's head. There was an inscription underneath, but he could not read their language. They had rotted pews and more spell books all around. The altar at the back of the church was bloody and rancid. Parts of what looked like an animal remained on top, the flesh slowly decaying. Someone had been here.

Fidan chose to spend the night inside the inn. At least there he knew he would be safe or so he thought. Around midnight he awoke to the sound of his horse neighing and stomping the ground scared. He picked up his sword and rushed outside to see a lone goblin standing in the road. The goblin turned its head sideways looking at Fidan, with a piece of flesh still hanging out of its mouth. Fidan rushed to his horse to see if it had been injured. His horse was not hurt, and he began to question where the goblin had recently eaten.

He unsheathed his sword pointing it at the goblin and asked it “why are you here, and where are the witches of this town?”. The goblin muttered something incomprehensible back to Fidan as he motioned for him to follow. “You want me to follow you? How stupid do you think I am?”. Still the goblin simply motioned again then walked up the road. Slowly chewing the flesh like a piece of jerky.

Fidan having no other choice, mounted his horse and followed the goblin at a distance. He found himself on an unknown path in the forest with another hut at the end. Smoke was rising through the top and the air was filled with rancor. The goblin stopped, pointed at the hut and disappeared back into the trees. Fidan dismounted and once again drew his sword approaching the hut.

The closer he walked; he could hear a woman humming something. To him it sounded awful, and the stench became worse. He stood outside the cloth covering the doorway to the hut and said, “what do you want with me?” On the other side of the cloth, he heard a cackle followed by a croaky voice. “You seek the witches do you not? Here I am brave hero, what would you ask of me?”

Pushing the cloth aside with his sword he peered inside to see a middle-aged woman standing over a table of potions. In the corner was a cauldron bubbling with that same foul smell. With fleshy bones sticking out of it. More animal bones were strewn across her hut like decorations. He let out a grunt of disgust as he entered.

Fidan spoke quickly to avoid the stench. “I'm looking for a way to raise someone from the dead”, he told the witch. She replied with “ Ohoho, a lost-loved one? A friend perhaps? So, you can live happily ever after?” Fidan said “a friend, but not for the reason you might think”. “Can you do it or not witch?”

The witch wiped her hands on her apron and put them on her hips. “Well, you are a rude little one aren't ya, of course I can, but first introductions must be made. I am Prithia, guardian of this forest and who might you be?” Fidan replied “I am Fidan, but you must already know of me.”

She cackled again “That I do, but it's still proper for you to introduce yourself before we get down to business.” “Sit down and tell me your tale while I whip up some stew. It's rare I get any visitors these days.” Fidan found a chair away from the cauldron to sit down. He loosened his shoulders, unclenched his jaw, and took a deep breath before he began his story.

Prithia listened and nodded as Fidan told her of his heroic adventures and his true wish. “So, its revenge you seek? she replied.” Well, I can surely give you what you seek, but can you give me what I seek?”

“The price of raising the dead is a soul, given freely.” “You cannot trick, deceive or lie, do you wish to continue?” Fidan laughed and said “You can have my soul witch; I won't need it when I'm done. Do we have a deal?”

She nodded and spoke again. “Now that the price has been settled there are certain materials you acquire for the ritual. A bundle of blood thistle, the lucky paw of a rabbit, and the bones of the deceased.”

“The blood thistle is in the undergrowth of the blood willow tree, a ferocious man-eating tree at that. The paw of the rabbit must come from those in the mountains to the north of here who survive under any circumstance. The last should be no trouble for you and return to me when you have the materials necessary.”

Fidan thanked Prithia, and walked out of that straw hut with a new determination. He was so close to revenge he could taste it. It was sweet on his tongue just teasing him. He set his sights on finding the blood thistle first as he rode deeper into the woods.