A Wild Magic.

Chapter 1
Deep within her slumbering body, Kiara felt the pain as each one of her captors perished. She fought to resurface from the dreamland she wandered in. She held out hope that at least one would be left alive to remove her chains. If not she would spend eternity trapped because only the blood of one of her captors could release her.

Kiara fought to shake the lethargy of her mind, so that she could open a mind link with her slave. She felt the blood of the two members left of the Coven. One was far away, whilst the other was close but their life-force was slowly slipping away. Her slave entered her chamber; once she came within view, Kiara gave her instruction to go find the one closest and bring them to her. With their life, so close to being extinguished they would be powerless to stop the slave.

Once the slave had left, she worked her limbs trying to bring the blood back to them. With each beat of her heart, pain sliced through her but she knew this would be her only chance of freedom. As her extremities pulsed with renewed purpose, she screamed her agony to the tree that was drawing her magic from her. She was ready for it to die; it had drained enough of life from her. She only hoped that this survivor of the Coven’s massacre was the same witch who had imprisoned her in the first place so, so long ago.

John came awake, wait why had he been sleeping? The last he had known, he had been in a knock down, dragged out fight with the members of Moira’s coven. He looked down at his chest where he saw the blood confirming what he had remembered; being stabbed in the heart. His gaze moved to the crumpled body lying next to the cot he lay upon.

He dreaded reaching out to turn the person over so he could check on them. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and frowned at the blood he found. What the hell? He rolled off the cot and knelt next to the woman who had once been his sunshine and hope. His lover and friend. Before he had even turned her, he knew she was gone. Her wrist slit; her blood soaking into the dirt floor. He knew he should feel something. Even though it appeared she had wanted to follow him into death, he just couldn’t find the emotion he was searching for.
 
John lifted Moira’s lifeless body up onto the vacated cot, and then arranged her body to appear as if she only slept. He pulled the rough wool blanket up over her body but couldn’t bring himself to cover her face. He turned at the sound of the wooden door opening, a shaft of moonlight filtering through the crack. A tall but bent woman entered. John made to reach for his weapon only to realize it was gone.
The woman entered, and glanced from John to Moira. She came forward reaching to remove the blanket from Moira’s body. She stopped for a moment with her head cocked as if she was listening to something. She then looked at John and simply said “follow me, my mistress has need of you.” She then wrapped the blanket around Moira’s body, and headed for the door.

John wanted to tell her to go to hell, but he didn’t want anything to happen to Moira’s body so he followed the old woman. “Why would your mistress have need of me?” He asked the woman’s back. She said no more; she kept walking. John figured they would head back to the village; instead she walked deeper into the woods. Scratching his head, he just kept following her. Curiosity taking hold of him.
John was seriously beginning to regret trailing the quiet woman. He looked up at the huge black oak tree they were currently standing in front of. He was getting ready to ask what was going on, when the tree seemed to shudder, and a portal appeared. John stood with his mouth wide open in awe, as the woman walked through it with Moira still in her arms. He hesitantly stepped into the opening, hoping he found his way back out as the portal closed behind him.

The hall that he and the woman walked down seemed to go deep into the Earth. They entered a huge chamber that appeared to be the center of the root system of the tree. John looked around the tree’s roots which twisted and wrapped around making smaller chambers, when he looked closer it appeared as if there had been people dwelling in the space. At the center of the room what seemed to be the main root held something grasped in its twisted embrace. John stepped closer to see if what he observed was truly there
 
What John saw was a naked woman with manacles around both her wrist and ankles which in turn were attached to the root. He watched as the old woman went up to her, and lay Moira’s body in front of her on the floor. The imprisoned woman opened her beautiful blue eyes and scrutinized first Moira’s body, then she gazed at him. In a voice, raspy from misuse, the woman spoke. “I have need of your service sir. It would seem you have running through your veins; the life blood of the lady my slave stands over. You are the one to break my bonds, but you must act quickly because it grows weak within you as your own blood re-establishes its hold. Please will grant me my freedom?

John examined the woman, noticing the weariness that seemed to surround her. “How can I have Moira’s lifeblood in me? I am uncertain how I am still alive after receiving a death blow to my heart. How can I break manacles? I think you may have the wrong person.” As he had been speaking, he had started rubbing his hand over where he still felt the knife entering his body.

The woman looked down at Moira’s lifeless form, and then back at John. “My name is Kiara, and many, many years ago, a witch of this woman’s coven imprisoned me to use my magic to feed their stronghold. Only a coven member can release me, or someone with their blood. It would seem your witch gave you the last of her blood in a spell to bring you back from death, and in doing so forfeited her life. Thus, is the price of blood magic that powerful. Whilst her blood still runs in your veins, you have the power to free me. All needs be done is for your hand to touch the chains for them to release. While at the same time; hold in your mind, the demand for release.”
He didn’t know what would happen, but he figured he would give an attempt to freeing her. He felt bad for what the coven had done to her. He walked over to the root, and reached towards the manacle on her right ankle. “All I do is touch them and think in my mind that I want you released? I doubt this will work, what we need is the key…wait where is the keyhole?” He looked up into Kiara’s face; the question in his eyes.
 
I told you, only blood and magic can release me. Your witch’s magic is within the blood she gave you. Please just try.” John went to touch the chains thinking of her manacles opening, and as his hand touched the manacle he heard the audible click of it opening. Kiara raised her hand up to look at it, what looked to be a seed fell to the floor.

Kiara stretched her long slender limbs, she then made to step away from the tree. Unfortunately, her legs refused to hold her and she fell to the floor. A cry of agony wrenched from her. John still held the manacle in his hand; he dropped it as he reached for Kiara at the same time as the slave woman. His hand landed on flesh covering bone, it was then he realized that she was starving. She turned to look at him, and said “thank you” right before her eyes rolled back, and she passed out.

John felt a tremor literally come from the tree and he looked at the old woman asking “what is happening?” The slave simply picked up Kiara, and headed the way they had arrived. John looked down at Moira’s body, bending he took her in his arms. He refused to leave her in this place of sorrow. He followed the old woman as the trembling became more pronounced. “Hurry the tree is dying, we must get out before it traps us inside.” The old woman stated as she quickened her pace.

Chapter Two
They had just escaped the great tree when as they turned to watch; it seemed to age and die before their eyes. The slave looked around as if trying to figure out her next move. “My mistress needs to rest and rebuild her strength. I have nowhere to hide her. I have been a prisoner to the witches, and have only lived within. Would you know of a place we might go?” She asked John.
John took in his surroundings, as well as the position of the moon. He lifted Moira’s stiffening body higher in his arms, and told the woman of an old hunting cabin owned by an old friend that wasn’t too far away. He began walking in the direction of the cabin; not caring if the woman followed or not. He was tired and he wanted to put Moira down. As loath as he was to bury her, he knew he must do so soon.
 
The cabin sat in a small clearing. His friend had been a trapper who had built the cabin to be near his traps. John kicked open the door, and entered the single room cabin. He carried Moira over to the corner where a pile of pelts was. He lay her body on them, then turned to see the old woman placing her charge on the single bed in the room.

He knew that they would need wood, so he left the women after picking up an ax and wedge by the door. While they had been walking, the sun had risen, and now morning melted into a hazy afternoon. John had removed his shirt as he worked up a sweat. He looked up as the old woman disappeared in the direction of a nearby stream, carrying a bucket.

Kiara woke in a filthy cabin, lying on a dust covered duvet and all she could think was that she was free. She looked down at herself realizing she was still naked. She sat up and pulled the duvet around herself. Outside she could hear the steady sound of an ax striking wood. She sat surveying the room, when the door swung open to reveal her slave. The slave nodded to her as she entered the room carrying a bucket of water. Suddenly she noticed her thirst. As if knowing what her mistress was thinking; the slave took a cup from a rough hewn shelf. After she had blown the dust from it, she dipped it into the bucket. Bringing it over she held it to Kiara’s lips.
The cool water slid down her throat, and as she swallowed Kiara couldn’t remember the last time she had taken a drink. The door opened; both women turned their heads as John entered. He looked at them as he headed for the fireplace. He put the wood down and after grabbing some of the kindling begun the work of starting a fire. Once it had started, he placed several pieces of wood to feed the flames. He turned toward the women sitting silently watching him.

“I need to go hunt for some food. If you are going to regain your strength, you will need some meat. I think my friend left some tea and other dry goods in the pantry. I shouldn’t be gone long, when I return we can discuss what has happened.” John has been scrounging through the trunks and cupboards to locate a weapon as well as some snares. When he found what, he was searching for, he left the cabin.
 
Kiara drank her fill of the water and lay back to sleep some. Her slave woman headed for the pantry to see what was there. John returned just as the sun was sinking below the tree line. He entered the cabin with cleaned rabbits slung over his shoulder. The old woman reached towards them and he gave them over. He walked over to the wooden table and took a seat. He looked over to the bundle lying on the skins, and rubbed his chest. His gaze then moved to the inert woman on the bed. How had he ended up here?
As if sensing his gaze, Kiara started awake. Her mouth formed in a frown as she tried to remember where she was. She looked to the old woman who had put the rabbits on the spit and was slowly roasting them. John watched as her eyes fell to the tea kettle that sat on the hearth stones. He rose and after filling a cup with what smelled like an aromatic tea, brought it to her. “Here’s a drink. My name is John by the way and I don’t remember yours. You mentioned powers earlier, so I must ask, are you a witch too?”

Kiara quickly raised her eyes to the question. She answered in an affronted voice “I am most certainly not a witch. My soul is my own, and as for powers, they come from Mother Earth. I am a Druid, and come from the line of the High Priestess. I was training to take my mother’s place when I was captured by a witch named Maeve. She had led me to believe her my friend and fellow druidess, but the whole time she was really a witch. A cradle witch from a long line as well. Most witches prefer to capture us to feed their strongholds. We are tuned to the force of nature, so our power feeds the seed of the tree. I have been held prisoner by the coven for over one hundred years.

John had started at hearing Maeve’s name; she was Moira’s mother. How could the woman before him be that old? That would make Maeve far older. “That can’t be true. I have known Maeve most of my life, she is a witch true, but there is no way I can believe her to be that old or you for that matter. Also, I think you owe me for freeing you, not feeding me tall tales.” John stood and paced around the room, he came to stop next to Moira. Once again rubbing his chest
as the pain of the death blow played through his mind.
 
“You still live because of the witch’s love for you. And yes, I do owe you for returning my life. Name a price and if it is within my power, I will pay it. Why were you killed, may I ask?” Kiara said from where she sat. She stood slowly, moving toward where John stood. He watched her warily as she stopped and placed her hand over where his had just been. He started as he felt warmth build under her hand. It seemed to seep into his heart, as the heat spread, flowing with his blood. He noticed the aching sensation had disappeared. He peered into her sapphire eyes as he took the first deep breath he had taken since awakening.

Kiara watched the forest green eyes of her savior, and as his memories flooded into her from their link, she sorrowed at how the witches had stolen his love and life. She broke the contact only when she knew her healing magic had done its job. The witch’s blood had revived him, but not repaired the damage to his heart. He would have slowly died within weeks. She was amazed that the witch, Moira had not done the complete spell of healing. Why work blood magic to only lave it half finished? She could not find the answers within him. She made to reach for Moira and he halted her hand. She took her hand back and walked over to the table knowing now was not the time.
John didn’t know why he had stopped her from touching Moira. It wasn’t as if he loved her any longer, nor cared what the druid did to her body. As he thought this he wondered if that could be the price he asked. For her to bring Moira back. Give her a chance to live without the elders breathing down her neck, controlling every aspect of her life. A parting gift to her for the loss of his love.
“Can you bring life to the dead, as Moira did with me?” John asked before he could re-think his decision. He watched Kiara’s response as the old woman sat a bowl in front of her. Kiara seemed to tilt her head as if thinking about it. The old woman motioned him to the table. He then noticed the mouthwatering smell of the rabbit as well as the stew she had made the girl.
 
John came to the table and sat. The old woman sat a bowl and some meat from the rabbit in front of him, as well as a cup of water. He took a bite after thanking her. The woman acknowledged his thanks as she served herself. They ate in silence for a time, then Kiara took a drink and pushed her bowl away. He looked up. “Yes, I can give you what you ask but it takes much strength of which I have little. Also, I do not do blood magic, that is witch magic of which I am not. I use earth magic and to do what you ask requires both you and me. If you agree to assist me, I will do as you ask.” Kiara said to him; before she took another drink.

John looked at her, wondering how he could help her perform magic. Especially since he didn’t have any magic. He finished his supper, then pushed the dishes away. The old woman gathered the dishes and once she had placed them in a tub, headed out of the cabin. John watched her go, worrying about her out in the night. He made to rise to go with her when Kiara stopped him. “She will be fine; she is enchanted. Nothing will harm her out there.” John sat back down and studied Kiara. She looked up at him and asked “why do you look at me so?”

I was just wondering how I can aid you in bringing Moira back. I have no magic, you said yourself that her magic that was within me was fading hours ago, so how would I be of assistance?” He sat back in his chair waiting for her answer. Never in a million years expecting the answer he received.

“It is simple” she said. “We use sex magic.”

John could only look at her as if she had lost her mind. He watched as a small smile formed on her lips. Lips, he became aware of all the sudden. When they began to move, he realized she was speaking. He broke his gaze so that he could concentrate on what she was saying. “I have never seen a man shocked at the prospect of physical intimacy. I thought you and the witch were lovers. Was I wrong?”
John took a moment and then replied. “No, you were right, but Moira and I were friends long before we ever became lovers. I have only been with one other besides her. You and I are strangers; don’t you need to be attracted to someone to have sex?” He started when she laughed out loud.
 
“Can you honestly tell me, that you were not just looking at my lips and felt no attraction?” She smiled at him again, she then stood letting the blanket fall from her body as she did. John at once found himself studying her slender body, just now realizing that she was marked with strange symbols. She headed to the bed and turned once she got there. She then stretched, and John could not deny that what he saw aroused him.

“Alright you have proven your point; I do find you beautiful. How long do we wait, and what should we do with Moira’s body in the mean time? She will start to decompose.” He said this looking over at the lump that was Moira.

Kiara looked that way as well and as he watched, her body seemed to emit a golden light that lifted from her and slowly drifted to wrap around Moira’s body. Once encased within the golden shroud, Kiara seemed to wilt against the bed. “that will hold her in stasis while my strength rebuilds” she said in a weak voice before her eyes closed and she slept.

The next couple of days passed rapidly with Kiara’s strength returning slowly but with each day, John could see a healthy glow come to her skin. He watched her wander out among the trees, touching them and it appeared as if she spoke to them. He would catch her sitting out in the meadow on a stump, the sun falling around her, small animals surrounding her as if in worship. Each day his attraction grew. He found himself anticipating the ritual that would bring Moira back.

Kiara felt the man’s eyes on her often, and as her strength returned so did her ability to read his thoughts. As she sat communing with the creatures of the forest and she sought wisdom from the trees, she found his anticipation was becoming contagious. She found her body yearning to mate with his. She began to seek him out to talk of this place and time she found herself in; and as they spoke their connection grew.
 
She awoke one morning and knew that this was the day. She had her slave to start preparing the cabin while she and John took a walk. They walked down to the hidden pool that the stream had formed, there she instructed him to cleanse himself as she did the same. Once done they lay upon the grass to let the sun dry their naked bodies. She watched the sun begin its descent. They stood and made ready to head back to the cabin, he pulled her to him and placed a gentle kiss upon her lips. She reached up to touch her lips and watched as he did the same. So, he had felt the jolt of electricity that had sparked as their lips connected. She had found her mate.
The full moon was directly above them; Kiara stood in the ritual circle with John. Moira’s body lay in a similar circle inside the cabin. As she called to Mother Earth to heed her plea, she and John joined together. Their bodies moving together in the language as old as time itself. Inside the cabin, Moira’s body began to glow. Kiara and John reached their climax just as a stream of light seemed to erupt from Moira’s body. As the lovers lay spent on the carpet of blankets, a scream tore through the night as the witch awoke.

©March 1, 2016 by R.A. Buster