Chapter 4: Bring Me Her Heart

Lucien

“Where is she, Lucien?”

Ravyn’s disembodied voice erupts in my ear. I startle and look around. That witch has a bad habit of disappearing for days and then suddenly reappearing.

Then beside me, her ethereal form materializes, like a thick mist. Her long, black hair undulates in the air as if she is underwater. She is projecting, her spirit floating lazily in the air before me, but her eyes, even in this form, are sparking with fury. Her lilac dress, or the hint of it, floats on the breeze, wisps of color in the dark forest.

Where her body is, I know not, but given the ragged appearance of her spirit, she must be out of the Murkwood.

“Who are you talking about, Ravyn?” I inquire, irritated. “And please stop showing up like that. I hate it.”

“Precisely why I do it.” She smirks, drifting closer. “And finding you is much easier if I project, now, isn’t it?”

I back away on instinct. Ravyn is poison, corrupting everything she touches.

“I know there is a Moonbright witch here,” she continues, her expression turning to a scowl. “I can still feel her presence! Why is there a Moonbright witch in my wood? And why did she escape?!”

Ravyn begins to tower over me, growing larger by the second. But after years of her tantrums, she is no more worrisome than a cloudy day. She will never hurt me, her fierce-hearted guard of the Murk.

So I can’t help but taunt her. “Why weren’t you here to banish her, Ravyn Rathmore? Aren’t you the witch of this wood?”

Her form wavers and sputters, no doubt because her anger makes her lose focus as she is projecting. “I can’t always be here, Lucien. That’s why I have you!”

“I can’t be everywhere at once, despite all your impressive spell work.”

“Tell me of the girl!” I’ve made her impatient. “What was she doing in my forest?”

Ravyn’s face suddenly hovers in front of mine, her violet eyes sparking, the purple mist around her puddling around my paws.

“It appears she is a Red Cloak heading to Murkfell, or possibly Windborne,” I confess. “She made her way quickly enough and was gone before I knew it. I had no reason to hurt her.” I lay down in the leaves, now dried and itchy on my belly without the morning dew. I begin to lick my paws casually, knowing that my casual, calm demeanor is angering Ravyn even more. I relish it.

“She wasn’t just any Red Cloak!” she objects. “Her Moonbright stink is all over my wood.”

“How was I to know she was a Moonbright?” I stand and sit back on my haunches.

“Didn’t she use her powers while she was here? Couldn’t you feel her magick?” Ravyn demands, her spirit twitching as she floats through some branches.

Of course, I felt it. “No, she walked quickly through and was on her way.”

“Did she see my cottage? Or try to look for it? Or for you?” Ravyn’s paranoia persists, a constant thorn in my side.

“No one in the Murk is just ‘passing through,’ Lucien.”

“Well, it appears that she was. She never deviated from the road that I saw,” I clarify. “Now, if you don’t mind, duty calls.” I stand, shaking out my fur, and head south to patrol the forest, away from the village, although I long to head north to see if I can catch a glimpse of the young woman once more. Her beauty and light had haunted me ever since I first saw her, nestled in the roots of the oak…

“Go patrol the Windborne Wood,” the witch suddenly orders.

Ravyn Rathmore | Created in Midjourney and Canva

I can’t believe my luck. My head snaps around at Ravyn’s demand.

She never allows me into the north woods. They are on the north side of Murkfell village, across the river, just beyond Ravyn’s reach — out of her self-claimed jurisdiction. And Granny keeps Ravyn’s foul magick out of Windborne. But this patrol means I could see her again, I could find the Red Cloak…

“The Windborne Wood? You never allow me out of the Murk. And that’s Granny’s — ”

“I’m fully aware of Granny’s influence in the north woods,” Ravyn interrupts, “but I need you to see about that witch. See if she’s in Murkfell or possibly Windborne,” grumbling and clenching her fists. “I can’t have a Moonbright witch skulking about.”

I smile wryly. “Still superstitious about the prophecy, are we?” I ask, goading her, knowing full well I, too, believed fully in the prophecy, as it could mean my freedom.

“Do as I say!” she bellows, again swooping down right in front of my face, her eyes afire. “Now go! Find the witch!”

“And what shall I do when I do find her?” My calm is an accelerant, only stoking Ravyn’s fiery anger further.

“Bring me her heart.”

Suddenly, an ornately carved wooden box appears, tied around my neck. My heart sinks. This Moonbright was my only hope to break free of Ravyn’s bonds.

“What?” I gasp. “She’s an innocent girl, I won’t — ”

“YOU HAVE NO CHOICE!” she thunders as the fell purple mist explodes around me and creeps into the trees around us. “You are my huntsman and my enforcer, wolf. You are my predator and the executioner of my will. Forever bound to my word.”

I start at the sudden display of power. It’s a good thing her physical form isn’t here.

“Besides,” Ravyn adds, gesturing towards me, “a Moonbright witch will be the most delicious prey to you, right?”

The irony of her words is cruel, but I slowly nod, playing along. How will I get out of this one?

Ravyn’s form soon fades away, and I am left padding through the forest on silent paws in my incessantly silent world. The Red Cloak once again appears in my mind as I make my way to the Windborne Wood. I long to hear the music of her voice, like when she whispered to the woodland creatures. I need music. I need noise.

I need life.

The Murkwood is my coffin, and the rising of the Red Moon will be the last nail to secure it.

The one loophole in my curse is a Moonbright witch breaking the curse, nullifying it before the rising of the Red Moon. This phenomenon is a significant event that amplifies magick, including spells that can void others, no matter who the caster is. And the power of a Moonbright witch would be…more powerful than I could ever imagine. But after the Red Moon, I would be Ravyn’s pawn forever.

There will be no going back to being a human, no going back to my old life. And how I long for it, especially after seeing the young Red Cloak, so full of life, light, and love. She represents everything I have longed for since being trapped here so long ago…I can’t tell the passage of time any longer. How long have I been here? A decade? A century?

Ravyn had been but a girl when she entrapped me, her youth and supposed innocence allowing me to fall victim to her wiles easily. I had been lost, and she had been there to be found.

Ever since, I’d been praying for a Moonbright witch to break the curse, to defeat Ravyn so I can be free, so all the denizens of the Murkfell and its surrounding environs — all its living creatures, human and animal alike — can be free.

We are all her prisoners to a certain extent.

I began to despair as the years passed, and the only humans that set foot in this forest were hunters. Hunting me, the allegedly vicious creature of the Murkwood.

I am not the vicious one. I haven’t killed a soul since I’d been here.

It is all Ravyn.

As if the villagers and outlanders don’t fear her enough, she has created lore about her ferocious wolf guard of the Murkfell. She rips apart bodies with expert care, leaving entrails scattered just outside the Murkwood, so the villagers can see “my” ferocity.

But I am no killer.

I just need help. I need to be set free.

And the Red Cloak is my only hope.

To be continued…

H.R. Parker © 2023 All Rights Reserved.