When War Walks (Volume 2 : The Hurricane Journals)

By R.M. Plaiscia

With the French settlement destroyed, and their underground chambers left shattered by the flood, the Witches of Saint Claude become torn apart, and that is exactly the time which the brood of Saint Bernard had been waiting for.

With their King carrying his own selfish goals, the brood of Saint Claude must somehow find a way to rise up against their mightiest of adversaries, and not only the Elders of Saint Bernard... but adversaries which can only be found by looking inward.

As a mighty battle unfolds, both atop and beneath the dirt of their swamp, the power held by those of the past shall be taken by those who fight for the future. But power is often times not so easily taken, and one shift can merely lead to another.

So as a Warlock at last takes his full form upon the battlefield, he will not only be faced with the known enemies of his past, but new ones, as well. And his place of power will need to be not only taken, but earned.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.M. Plaiscia
• Release date: Jul 13, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476344966

R.M. Plaiscia

R.M. Plaiscia was born on June 8th, 1983, and raised in St. Bernard, Louisiana, just a footstep outside the city of New Orleans. He is but a humble soul with too many stories to tell. As a child, he created a universe combined both Star Wars and Star Trek into one cohesive story, at least for a 9-year-old. As his passion for professional wrestling grew, by the age of 13, he was filling 5-subject notebooks with his own scripted content known as the Notebook Wrestling Alliance. This lasted for years and spanned thousands of pages.In 2002, R.M. Plaiscia helped form the Backyard Wrestling Federation called EPW (Extreme Psychopathic Wrestling/EPW504 on YouTube), serving as Head Booker and Extreme Champion (wrestling under the character of Runko Butcher) until the group folded in the fall of 2004.In late 2005, after Hurricane Katrina devastated his hometown, flooding his own home with upwards of 15 feet of water, R.M. Plaiscia was one of the few to return home to live out his days in a FEMA trailer. Spending the next few years rebuilding his home while finishing his schooling at Nunez Community College, R.M. Plaiscia first discovered the original journal entries that unlocked this past long forgotten, and began work on his Shroud of Ages Saga.---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Favorite Authors/Writers (Books/Manga/Comics) - J.K. Rowling, Stephen King, Terry Goodkind, Timothy Zahn, J.R.R. Tolkien, George R.R. Martin, Akira Toriyama, Rumiko Takahashi, Robert KirkmanFavorite Musical Artists - The Doors, Megadeth, Alice in Chains, Cradle of Filth, Sepultura, Avenged Sevenfold, Gravediggaz, Three 6 Mafia, Nas, Nightwish, Within Temptation, One OK Rock, BabyMetal, Caleb Hyles, Smooth McGroove, Jonathan Young, Lindsey Sterling, Raon LeeFavorite Movie Franchises - Star Wars, Star Trek, Stargate, Godzilla, Gamera, Cloverfield, Alien, Die Hard,Favorite TV Shows - Stargate (SG1, SGA, SGU), Game of Thrones, How I Met Your Mother, Star Trek (TOS, TNG, DS9 - Still Need To Watch V & E), Babylon 5, I Love Lucy, Friday Night Lights, The Walking Dead, Arrested Development, Homeland, Spartacus, V, The Expanse,Favorite Anime/Manga/Cartoons - Dragon Ball (DB, DBZ, GT, Super), Inuyasha, Cowboy Bebop, Trigun, Yu Yu Hakusho, 7 Deadly Sins, Attack on Titan, My Hero Academia, Blue Gender, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Zoids, Pokemon, Invader Zim, Rick & MortyFavorite Sports Teams - New Orleans Saints (WHO DAT?!), New Orleans Pelicans, LSU Tigers, Las Vegas Golden Knights

Book preview

Chapter 1

-Awakened-

Throughout the hours of being unconscious, the vampire known as Reggio could only remember flashes of the night before – the dark orange hair of some witch hanging down in his face, the silhouette of another young witch holding a small infant, the shadow of a wave as it rose above him – but nothing seemed significant.

He had been dubbed the Vampire Storm upon his arrival twenty-four hours before, but a storm sent by Mother Nature, one claiming the name of Terrible, had already set him to sleep.

With the swamp flooding with water around him, the drowning witches should have triggered only a craving for their blood. But instead of becoming overwhelmed by such an urge, this vampire’s instincts drove him to rescue them, and put his own life at risk by doing so.

After losing K’tcaa – his first mortal companion – and Jane Saint Marie – the witch that had given her life for his – all within a 24-hour period, Reggio had vowed to not allow another death to take place. Thus, the vampire pushed and fought his way through the flooding swamp, picking witches out of the waves and placing them in the safety of the trees, until the wind lifted one of those waves above him. It seemed too big for even him to avoid, and after tossing two more witches out of the way, it brought one of the swamp’s countless trees right on top of him.

The Terrible Storm arrived to blot out the morning of September twenty-second, 1722, and had already flooded the swamp by mid-afternoon. By the time that night had fallen, the swamp had been reduced to complete mayhem, and that mayhem didn’t fizzle away until the early morning hours of September twenty-third.

Reggio, the so dubbed Vampire Storm, had been unconscious since midnight, until, after hours of rest, his eyes slowly opened, heavy as they widened for the first time since the chaos. His vision may have been a bit blurred, but he noticed something immediately – a shadow hovering above him – and he wiped his eyes to better make out the figure standing before him at his bedside.

At first glance he thought it had to be Jane Saint Marie – the exact witch that he’d felt so drawn to upon his arrival, the same that he believed to be lost to the rising waters of the flood – but as his vision cleared he saw it was only his mind playing tricks on him. The voice that whispered into his ear, however, indeed sounded familiar, and he recognized at once that it was the same young witch from the tree shelter, the same that had approached him on that first night of his arrival, only to scurry away at the sight of Jade.

Welcome back to the conscious world, she spoke with delight.

He was able to smell the rich scent of her blood, familiar now to his nostrils, before he ever saw her face clearly. It was a welcoming scent for him to awaken to, and after a few moments passed, his vision clearing enough to spot the golden locks of her hair flowing down like a waterfall upon her soft white cheeks, he sat up on the cot that he was lying on, only for his head to start pounding with pain.

Do not rush yourself. You nearly died last night, the young witch spoke with care behind her words.

Truthfully, though, Reggio couldn’t remember much about the night before, only that he had failed to save Jane Saint Marie. Trying to remember more, though, only widened the shroud of blotted memories in his mind. He really wanted to know what happened, however, so he shook away the pain to look as best he could into all four of the eyes that he saw.

So… what happened to me? he asked, his vision still blurred and his voice cracked.

Looking at him with a single eyebrow raised, two for him, she asked, You really don’t remember?

Reggio shrugged his shoulders, Not much.

The witch sat down on the cot beside him, placing her hand upon his shoulder, instantly relaxing the timid vampire.

Well, rest assured… you saved many lives last night, fighting against those floodwaters. You did more for us than any of the others. They didn’t even seem to care. So it really was quite an act of bravery on your behalf, seeing as you have no allegiance to us at all. Her voice rang loudly with admiration, and it triggered bits and fragments of memory to flash through his mind – the glaring eyes of the natives watching on from the trees, unwilling to help.

As she looked him in the eyes, he remembered seeing them, as well, in the mayhem. He remembered being high in the native’s tree shelter as it got ripped apart. And then he remembered latching onto someone’s hand and pulling them up onto that tree as the structure disintegrated beneath them, all while staring into a young witch’s fearful eyes, the very same eyes he was now looking into, right before diving into the water down below.

She then leaned in and spoke softly to him. You sacrificed yourself to save the lives of those you did not even know. Not only that… you should have died, but…

A smile began turning up her lips, leaning even closer to whisper in his ear, I know you cannot. A cute little giggle, of the sort that often shows a need for concern accompanied the words.

Reggio thought nothing of it, though, as she then looked sharply away from him, towards the sheets of cloth hanging in place of a door. Great, she’s here, the young witch spoke with a touch of disdain as those sheets flung apart, and in walked a witch by the name of Taryn Jade Tytanicus, with a look of complete annoyance strewn across her face.

The older witch hissed upon seeing her younger counterpart, Yours is the last face I wished to see in here. But the attitude did not affect her.

Oh, it’s so good to see you too, Jade. This was by far the worst storm we’ve ever witnessed, and I’m so glad you survived. There was a spike of sarcasm as she stood up, And don’t you worry… I’ll be sure to leave your sight immediately so you don’t have to waste any more of your precious breath on such insignificant ears.

The young witch then stood up and walked past Jade, not even looking in her direction. But before the sheets could close, Reggio watched her glance back into the room at him with a funny smile on her face.

Before he even realized it, though, Jade was already in his ear. Forget about her! I cannot afford to have you risking your life like you did! The last thing we need right now is for you to become a bloodstain on some frening tree! I thought I taught you better than to be that frening stupid!

He understood she had the authority around there to yell at everyone like that, but he wasn’t one of her witches.

First of all, the one thing I can remember rather clearly is that you really didn’t teach me anything. And secondly, if I had not done what I did, you would be out there stacking bodies right now! the vampire yelled right back at her.

We are stacking bodies out there! the witch corrected him, to which he simply couldn’t reply.

His head was pounding with more pain than before, flashing with minor fractures of lost memory… corpses hanging from the limbs of trees, blood dripping from the gashes ripped in their necks.

Each fractured memory lasted only a fraction of a second, hardly enough to even notice as he shook the visions away and worked on ignoring the pain, Those friends that you left us with found their safety and hid like frightened frening cowards after the shelters collapsed, unwilling to save even their own as they drowned not ten feet away from them! It was complete chaos out there, damn it, and I did everything I could!

Reggio’s head now throbbed with intense pain, too much for him to shut out any longer. Reaching back to where the pain emanated from, he felt the bandages, and upon pulling his hand back he saw the bloodstains upon it.

You are a vampire, not a frening hero! she yelled at him. I mean, have you not seen your wound?! Do you not remember what happened to you?! Jade asked him, speaking angrily.

Reggio didn’t even reply. He just looked strangely at the blood on his hand, his memories returning to when Jane’s blood sat in that same spot, bending like the river’s crescent he found himself upon.

A frening tree fell on top of you, fool! Anyone else would already be dead! An eight-inch shard of wood had to be removed from your damn skull! Had that been thirteen inches lower, you would not be speaking with me now, because you are not frening invincible! Jade screamed, snapping him out of his daydream.

Reggio wiped the blood from his hand and moved to stand up. But as soon as he put weight onto his legs, they gave out and he fell right back onto the bed.

See, proof you are not yet ready, Jade said as she shook her head. You are lucky to even be conscious right now. So you must rest and heal yourself… because you will soon be needed.

What do you mean, I will be needed? he asked her, his head still pounding.

Do not worry yourself about that just yet… rest for now. I have much to do and no time to waste. Just know that I will return for you shortly. Jade then turned quickly to leave the room before he was able to even ask another question, still obviously upset, yet distracted by something else.

For some reason, she did not seem as upset with him as he first thought. The vampire recognized there was more on her mind, something much more important than him. He understood there had to be something going on, something he could not know, and something that no one was going to tell him about. But his head hurt too damn bad to care. All he could do was lay back on his cot and slip back into unconsciousness.

* * * * * * * * *

After Jade left Reggio to rest in the small, ripped up shack near the northern swamp-line, she quickly slipped out of everyone’s sight again to slide into the area of flooded swamp next to the shack. Moments earlier, sitting within the wreckage of the young settlement with the warwalker Marigny, she had made it clear to him that her intentions were to overthrow their leader. The elder wizard and self-proclaimed king, Orleans, would lead no longer.

Marigny knew him better than anyone else. Orleans was the wizard that saved the young warlock from the carnage brought by the Great Thousand Years Wars, helping him escape his father’s kingdom as it was taken by the vampires.

He remembered the day it was taken quite well – his father’s chambers being flooded with carnage as he was knocked unconscious and dragged away, waking up later upon the shoulder of Orleans as the old wizard whisked him through an escape tunnel, towards safety.

After that day, Marigny had followed the wizard into every battle, and had played an instrumental part in swaying each war… the vampires, the demons… until the mortals began the Great Purge and left Witchkind hanging on the brink of extinction. Since that time, the power structure of their race became ripped apart, and never would it be the same again.

Still, the survivors of Witchkind battled for supremacy of the future… even after the three Saints had gathered them together in peace, to save them from extinction. But after the assault on Normandy Castle, their home for so long, the Saints unwittingly began a war between those lone survivors.

Lines were drawn and sides were taken, and the self proclaimed Mother of the land, the former mate of Orleans, declared him and everyone that stood beside him to be enemies of her brood. Thus, the self-proclaimed king had grown paranoid, fearful of the future, and Jade was waiting no longer for Marigny to claim his rightful power. The witch stood ready to hand it to him, thus placing herself within her own position of power, and in a perfect position to sway the balance of fate itself, just as it was always meant to be.

Entering the flooded swamp, she reached out her senses to pick up the trail of latent energy emanating from King Orleans. Maybe if he understood that his most loyal subjects could no longer be trusted, he would have been a bit more careful. But with nothing for him to fear, it was easy to follow him.

Jade made sure to keep her distance from him, keeping herself under the water with only her head above it. That water rested just above her knees as she first entered, but only fifteen yards in, it grew drastically deeper, first to her waist and then nearly to her chest. By keeping her body beneath the water, though, it helped her to avoid making any unnecessary noise, like splashing around and such.

It wasn’t long before she spotted him through the naked trees that now dotted the once lively swamp, and as she quietly kept pace behind him, she began to notice the same thing. The swamp was a much different place than it had been just twelve hours previous.

It was quiet now, very, with a nearly dead silence after all the animals had either run away or drowned. The foliage left ravaged, the greenery of the once lavish swamp turned to a depressing spread of gray, trees upended and leaning over, each of them stripped of nearly all their leaves.

Every now and again the bloated body of a rodent would float by her, or she would catch a glimpse of a drowned mortal hanging limp from a tree limb, or floating silently with the drag of the water as it slowly drained out through the lake.

The smell of death lingered all around her. But she tried her best to stay focused on the task at hand.

Orleans had not been quiet during his trip through the swamp, not at all, which made it continually easy for her to follow him. He talked to himself quite often and even sang some old war song about mortals fighting like cowards that Jade had never heard before. She actually found it to be quite honest. Then he broke into another song that Jade had never heard, one strictly about himself.

The witch listened on in wonder as to who in the world would have written such nonsense. Although she did not fight alongside of him until the second Demon Conquests, she highly doubted that he ‘killed a hundred Minotaurs alone’, or ‘slain a thousand harpies in one single blow’.

It reminded her of how much she hated history. All garbage as far as she was concerned, a compilation of useless legends and pointless stories, all written a thousand years after the point by those who were not even there to witness the event, or written by one person who may have been there, showing only that one side of the story, and presenting it as the one and only truth.

All too often it seems the victors are the ones given the ink to write such history, whether true of false. And either way, as time goes by, that original story will have been told and retold by so many different people that by the end of it, the story will hardly resemble what actually happened, such as the songs Orleans was singing about himself.

The past, for her, was a puzzle being systematically taken apart as each hour passed, each minute being more difficult to remember than the last. With each passing day, the puzzle becomes harder to put back together, and what was once a known fact is slowly twisted into an obscure facsimile.

The future, though, is a different puzzle entirely.

The fragments of the future are put together as each second passes, and each minute brings us closer to seeing the complete picture. Once all the pieces are in place, and once one figures out what this grand mystery we call life really is, then there are no more pieces to be put together, and no more life to be lived.

That makes this life a puzzle that most wish would never end, but always does. And for King Orleans, Jade hoped to finish that puzzle for him, and show him that last little piece he had been missing off in the corner, that little piece he was too blind and selfish to even notice, before cramming it down his throat.

She wondered what in fury he was out there for, because he did not seem to be showing any kind of urgency at all. The wizard went about rowing slowly through the water, almost in a world of his own, as if nothing even felt wrong.

Knowing that many witches were still lost in the flood, she understood that many of them were still stranded. But he did not give a second thought about helping any of them. He looked to be headed somewhere specific, and had been moving in a straight line, right towards the Nth Swamp, the lesser traveled section of the swamp that was always full of water, ever since they had left the settlement. And once Orleans passed up a group of witches in a tree, her suspicions became confirmed.

Three of the flood’s survivors called out to him from the branches of a nearby tree, desperate for assistance, and he completely ignored them, rowing right by them without even glancing in their direction. Jade used that distraction to move around those witches without being seen, almost feeling bad about how she had to do so, but aware that she was doing it to create a better future. The witch crept just below and behind them as they continued to yell at Orleans up ahead.

Jade knew now that blatantly killing him was no longer an option. She had to see what he was doing before she made any decisions. For all she cared, this would at least be something she could use against him, to her advantage. So she kept following him, deep into the swamp, nearly to the Nth, before he finally drifted off towards the river. She then followed him to the much higher ground near its bank and gradually stepped from waist deep water to only knee deep water, making sure to keep herself hidden behind the naked trees that were still left standing.

After stopping behind a wide trunk that hung snapped in half further above her, the only big one near her, she watched him from a distance. He paddled his way over towards another large tree maybe twenty or twenty-five yards away. If not for the storm washing everything clean, the bottom of the tree seemed to have once been a very much hidden place, probably covered by many bushes and low hanging moss that hid its trunk, but was now seen all too clearly. She continued watching silently as Orleans stepped out into the shin deep water and pushed his boat up onto the dry ground next to the trunk of the tree.

Jade remained behind her tree trunk as Orleans looked from side to side to see if anyone else was around, doing her best to quell her internal power signature without casting any easily noticeable spells. Any witch, though, that had even a basic understanding of Terra, would still be able to detect her by simply sensing beyond their typical visual and instinctual scans. But Orleans did nothing of the sort.

At that moment, she realized he was no longer the noble warrior he used to be, especially if she was not seen by his ‘keen eyes’ that could ‘spot a fly from a thousand miles’, as was referenced in his song.

It seemed almost laughable for her, but pathetic for her ‘great’ king. After satisfying his curiosity that no one was there, he turned towards the tree and began poking around it, clearly searching for something. After a moment of digging through the snapped limbs, he seemed to find whatever he was looking for and stopped. He then moved his arm, pulling something on the tree and causing part of the trunk to flip open and reveal a secret passage, much to Jade’s amazement.

The witch looked on in complete shock as Orleans ducked off into the tree and disappeared from sight. She had no idea that this tree even existed, but it only confirmed her affirmations that there was much about this swamp that they still did not know of.

First the underground chambers, now this tree.

Obviously, though, it was not news to Orleans. He had clearly hidden this knowledge from everyone else, as far as she knew. It was a secret that could easily ruin the trust that the witches had in him, as it had just ruined her own trust in him. Recognizing she would have to tell Marigny of what she had seen, she first needed to prove she wasn’t just making things up. She needed some kind of evidence.

Her first thought was to just follow him in, but within a couple seconds thought better of it. For all she knew, a maze of passages and hallways awaited down below, just like the underground chambers she lived in for the last three years. So she thought it best to simply wait and see what happened.

Long, though, she did not have to wait, because after only a few minutes had passed, Orleans reemerged from the tree, hauling a huge bag on his back. Jade kept herself still as he looked around and dumped the bag into his boat with a loud thud, jangling upon impact. Instead of leaving, though, he turned and went right back into the tree.

Jade recognized immediately that she had an opportunity to find out what he was doing and wasted no time in doing so, waiting only a brief moment before moving swiftly and quietly towards his boat.

While keeping her eyes on the entrance into the tree, waiting for Orleans to reemerge at any second, she tiptoed her way out of the water and onto the dry ground, then straight over to the boat.

As she opened up the bag ever so carefully to glance inside, her eyes grew instantly wide.

What she saw nearly made her jaw drop. She even had to reach in and grab a piece just to believe it.

It was gold.

Frening gold… she whispered beneath her breath, the words forming a low hiss.

The bag was filled with it, bricks and coins alike, and it nearly made her gag.

She immediately closed it back up and stepped away, her heart suddenly racing with nervousness as she looked down at the piece she held in her hand. Her thoughts bounced around within her skull as she tried to figure out what this meant, and what she should do about it. But before she was able to figure anything out, a power signature snagged her attention.

With her head spinning towards the direction of the river, her eyes spotted someone racing along the swamp line, coming from the east. Immediately, the piece of gold got slipped into one of her pockets, her heart slowing as her mind focused on this new threat, and she pounced into action.

Witches were born with the sheer will to conquer any challenge that stood before them, regardless of whether they possessed the abilities to conquer it successfully or not. That’s why a young witch was known as a Willborn, because they were not yet able to overcome their overwhelming will to succeed, a trait instilled naturally into each witch upon their birth.

It was only when a witch became able to use their forethought successfully in battle, determining which challenges would logically be conquered and which would not – which enemies they could kill and which enemies could get them killed – and navigating away from those unfavorable challenges… only then was a witch dubbed to be a Foreborn.

So when Jade, a highly skilled Foreborn of the bloodline Tytanicus, leapt up to chase after an unknown figure she saw running along the river, it was only because she knew she was going to catch them.

The witch leapt over the water in a single stride and landed on a fallen tree, still making sure to remain as silent as possible. After jumping off the tree, her toes pushing off of it to glide herself gracefully across the distance of water between the dry ground and herself, she hit the ground, running after the intruder, eyes set firmly on her target.

She kept herself inside the tree line but out of the water as she raced to catch up, having no idea who she might have been chasing… only that someone coming from the east, running that fast, meant only trouble.

Jade hopped over another fallen tree as she began to run parallel with the intruder, trying to get a step or two ahead of them. As she looked over through the trees, she saw a figure who looked familiar. It wasn’t female, so definitely a warlock or a wizard. And as her eyes met the eyes of the intruder, she realized she could take no chances of finding out for sure.

After planting her left foot into the dirt, she placed her second on a bent tree and kicked off of it, flying out of the swamp and tackling the unknown intruder to the ground near the river’s edge.

The two of them rolled over each other a few times before Jade finally locked her fists into the wet mud, stopped on top of her opponent. She then looked down at him with her left eyebrow raised.

Toby? she asked, looking into the familiar eyes of the native warlock, What, in fury’s sake, are you doing?

Lady Jade! Toby exclaimed with a half smile, I am truly relieved that it was you who tackled me, though I am sad to say that… I am already spoken for. The strange look on Jade’s face prompted him to get to the point. But never mind my horrid attempt at humor. For a second, I almost forgot who I was talking to.

Yes, yes… now out with it.

Toby’s brief smile quickly dissipated. I have information you will want to hear for yourself.

Information? Jade asked as she stood up. What kind of information? Where are you coming from?

I am coming from the Landing. Toby said as Jade helped him up to his feet. This storm has brought many things to shit. Everything is falling apart.

What do you mean? Jade asked with a hint of concern. What happened?

The native warlock shook his head as he looked at the foreign witch, You seem distracted, distant, like your mind is somewhere else, like you were last night in the village. Are you okay? He sounded genuinely concerned.

I am fine, Jade blurted out after a brief second of hesitation. Just tell me what is going on.

Toby took a deep breath as he looked at her, almost reluctant to tell her. But out it came, Much of my brood has left the village behind, not that there was even a village left to speak of. He spoke with guilt laden in his tone, But not only that, they have also left your brood behind. They say they can no longer tolerate the selfishness…. your selfishness.

Okay, so what do they want? To fight now? Jade asked with a sarcastic smile.

Like I said, my brood has left this end of the swamp, Toby showed a bit of regret. But instead of blaming the Mother Earth, they chose to blame you. They say that your witches are ruining everything we’ve built here.

But why… why blame us now after first helping us survive the storm?

Because last night, Toby answered with a heavy head, Almost every tree shelter got torn down in that storm.

And that is my fault? Jade asked aggressively. That storm destroyed the entire settlement, this entire frening swamp!

Many of our witches were killed, Toby told her regretfully.

As were mine, Jade added, with a hint of spite in her voice. That is no one’s fault, Toby!

Regardless of your defense, you were not there to present it to them.

Because I was fighting for my frening life, Jade argued, showing prominent emotion and not a single regret.

As were we all, Jade, but that does not matter anymore, Toby raised his voice slightly so Jade would just listen without trying to defend herself. My leaders made a visit to your counterparts in the east to voice their concerns. From that meeting, an alliance was forged, and a plan hatched rather quickly… to attack you.

Attack us? Jade asked, unable to believe it. They cannot attack us, not with the mortals around.

Toby’s expression didn’t change.

This is serious? she asked with a bit more intensity. This has truly happened?

I am afraid it has. That is why I have come to warn you, he said. My brood is not one to make empty threats. They have made their allegiance and they will do as they say. They will attack.

But why? Jade tried to argue. Do they not realize how any action between us will reveal us to the mortals?

It doesn’t matter. My elders do not live by the same guidelines that your elders have lived by. This is our land, and the mortals are trespassers upon it, all of them. My elders do not differentiate between the natives or the old worlders. They will not hesitate to fight them, as well. They would not mind at all if you were all killed.

This left Jade shaking her head. Without appreciating at all how it had come to this, she at least recognized that an attack brought against them at that moment could be the death-kneel for her entire brood. Her mind was now filled with more things than she knew how to think of – first the storm, then the Orleans debacle, and now an attack.

The optimism she had only an hour before quickly faded under this tremendous pressure. The witch realized that whatever she was going to do, she had to do it fast. So she quickly came to grips with this news of an attack and got as much information as she could.

How much time do we have? Jade asked, now showing a bit of urgency.

Not much, Toby replied. From what I gathered, they may begin their march within the hour.

Damn! That is too frening soon, Jade cursed as she swatted the air. We will not have enough time to prepare. I cannot believe this is happening.

Nor can I, Toby admitted. It seemed almost like a knee jerk reaction from my superiors. The talk began before the floodwaters had even started receding, before the winds ever died down, and even before the search for survivors had begun. It was as if they cared for nothing except seeking out immediate vengeance.

So all of your elders agreed to this? she asked.

They encouraged it, all of them, he acknowledged.

Yes, I see. And where do you stand in all this?

Not everyone was happy with this decision. Toby let her know. As I said, some of us were still trapped in the flood when the agreements were made. Of course, everyone has kept their mouths shut, but I have over forty witches who do not wish to be a part of this unwarranted attack, and they are willing to come over to your side. That is why I have come here, Jade. We may be few, but we are here to help. Our elders have wronged us for long enough.

That is good to hear. I am sure we will need every last witch we can muster, Jade had to admit. I just cannot believe it has actually gotten to this point. At the present time, they outnumber us by double, at the least. And with your brood beside them… we obviously have little time to act. So… you go and get everyone you can and meet Marigny at the church, or… where it used to be. I may not be there. But I will tell him everything you have told me. He will be ready for your arrival.

Where is King Orleans? Toby asked, curious why he would not be meeting with him.

After an awkward moment of confusion, Jade responded quickly. Still missing, she told him, blurting out the first thing she thought of.

She thought it felt like a good enough lie and gave herself a mental pat on the back for it. Then she saw the look of shock painted across the warlock’s face and responded to it, As I said, we will need all the help we can get. Just get back to the settlement as fast as you can. We must prepare ourselves as soon as possible.

With that, he nodded, and the two of them took off in opposite directions, Toby towards the mansion and Jade towards the settlement, leaving Orleans with his gold. Now, more so than ever before, there was no time left to waste.

Chapter 2

-To Realize The Future-

With King Orleans gone into the swamp, leaving Marigny in charge of things, the warlock ordered the remaining witches to set up a spot on the opposite side of the city from the mortals to gather their wounded, which there were many. While they did that, with survivors steadily stumbling out of the flooded swamp to find dry land, Marigny searched through the mud for a lost little box.

He was not sure how he would survive without it. The clouds hid most of the sunlight, allowing him to search freely through the mud, but every now and again, it would peak through and blind him. That’s when he would hop back and curse at it.

After working around that blinding light for almost three hours, though, it finally paid off, and he pulled his black wooden case out of the mud. With a smile, he ran his right index finger along the symbol that was carved into it – two triangles connected by their overlapping points, with a circle intertwining everything together through the middles of the triangles – before opening it.

Within that wooden black case was his smoking pipe, it, as well, carved of the same blackened wood, and holding the same symbol carved into it – two triangles intertwined by their overlapping points, with a circle connecting everything together through the centers of the triangles. Next to it sat a small pouch of crushed up green flower buds, with golden hairs interlaced throughout each leaf.

Marigny immediately reached in and pulled out a finger full, packing it into his pipe. His matches were gone, having been borrowed by Orleans right before everything got crazy. So instead of matches to strike a flame, he held up his fingers and snapped together his index and thumb, igniting the tip of his thumb with a burning green energy that he grazed across the packed green herbs, taking in a lung full of smoke.

After holding it in for nearly an entire minute, he let out an immense cloud and sat down straight in the mud, Ahhhh… finally, I can think again. As he mumbled to himself, he became swallowed up by an intense feeling of relaxation.

Before finding his pipe, his brain had been cluttered with too many thoughts. Now, after only a single puff, those same thoughts were sorting themselves out within his mind. He was beginning to see much more clearly what Jade was talking about, what she was trying to carry out.

The warlock came to understand that what she said was indeed true. It was time for a change. And her plan may indeed catapult them into the upper hierarchy of their brood. But little did he know that news was already on its way that would complicate things even further.

From behind Marigny came the voice of Jade, stern and urgent, We need to talk, now.

Marigny spun around in the mud to see her coming from the river. He stood up to greet her as he wiped himself off before seeing the look she held upon her face.

What happened? he asked her as soon as she approached, seeing that something was definitely wrong.

We are not safe, Jade told him bluntly, standing softly atop the piles of mud left on the ground from the floodwaters that had only recently receded.

What do you mean? Marigny asked, staring briefly out into the vast emptiness that was the mortal’s settlement a day ago, before focusing his eyes back on Jade.

We do not have much time, so you cannot argue with me, she told him, speaking quickly. The natives have gone to the elders and together they have hatched a plan to attack us. They could be on their way as I speak.

What?! That is nonsense! Marigny blurted out loudly, but not seriously at all. That cannot happen with the mortals here. They would not do that… not a chance.

Well, they are! This is not a joke, Marigny! Jade assured him, trying to be as serious as she could. They are prepared to kill everyone here, witches and mortals alike.

Well, what about Orleans? Marigny asked. He is the most experienced of our ranks. If there truly is an attack, then we may be able to use him still. That is, of course, if you didn’t frening kill him yet.

Jade was shaking her head as she reached into her pocket to pull out the gold bar she had taken from the elder wizard’s boat, and she raised it up into Marigny’s face.

As you can see, your all mighty king seems a bit preoccupied at the moment, she told him forcefully. So I truly cannot be sure if he even gives a frening fury about us anymore.

Marigny’s eyes widened as he looked at the bar of gold before him.

The mere sight of it made him want to regurgitate his last meal, which reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in nearly two days. His hunger was at the far off reaches of his mind, though, as he snatched the gold bar out of her hands and held it up in the air in