Story 7: The Stain of Blood Magic

The Stain of Blood Magic

(Content Warning: read at your own discretion.)

"You have the power," whispered a voice, floating around her. She knew she had the power, but did she wish to scar the land further?
"Use the power, the land is scarred as is. This place will only ever be a valley of death," whispered the voice again.

The dying screamed for their mothers, begging and pleading for release instead of the slow, painful death. The women, unprotected, left to the devices of the immoral invaders. The cries of the offspring, calling for their loved ones who lay dying at their feet. The scene was horrifying and Maeve, for a moment, felt helpless as she watched, forgetting the immense power within her.

Maeve took a deep breath and reached deep inside herself. Deep into her powers. Using the screams, the horror, the pain, the distrust of the people of Pearl's Wish and the others who these invaders had murdered in their ceaseless crusade to turn people against each other, Maeve fed it into the atmosphere as she gathered and harnessed the power of the elements as well as the ancient powers of their ancient Gods. The skies turned dark, and it began to rain, the wind picking up and turning to a deafening shrill. She kept her people behind her, creating a protective shield while the blood of her kin seeped into her skin, adding further to her magic as she became engulfed in fire while air whipped around her, forming a fire tornado and lifted her up into the air.

The leader, a man with a large scar marring his face, turned with his army, stopping their battle to gawk in awe. On the warlord's belt, he carried the amulets of the sorcerers and sorceresses whom he had killed trying to protect their land from the invaders. Despite the immense amount of power this witch was emitting, he was not afraid. The others showed great amounts of strength too, but all succumbed to his blade.

"And just who are you?" he called out, playing his hand carefully.
"Your death," answered Maeve.
"My lord, we should maybe listen to this witch. She isn't like the others we encountered," said a man to the warlord's right. The warlord pushed him away.
"We came here peacefully, witch. We started by spreading the word of Azlor, no threats. But your people, like everywhere else on this cursed land, turned us away in favour of their witches and their Gods. However, in the real world, that is not how things work," he laughed, a joyless sound. "This place is being claimed by his Lord, the King Oren of the Order of Azlor and you will submit."
"Peacefully? You call this peaceful? You call your arrival peaceful? We are beings of the earth, I heard the deaths of my friends and family long before you made it to the highlands. You are fools, all of you. The others were caught off guard with you, I was not. I harness all the anger, the sadness, the horror and pain you have caused throughout our land and this is where you, Lord Faulcard will submit to our Gods and our rules," Maeve said, her voice echoing with the voices of her gods and her deceased brethren.

The warlord smiled, but for a moment, she felt his confidence tremble under the weight of her voice. Now she had the upper hand.
Maeve picked up the warlord and brought him to her height as she levitated, shocking his company of warriors. Many stopped their actions and dropped their swords. Such magic was rarely seen by them.

"If those of you who wish to still live, leave now and go back to your King," offered Maeve as she looked down at the warriors. Many of them immediately ran south, where their boats still waited.

"They've abandoned you, Lord Faulcard," Maeve said softly while he hovered in the air, in front of her.
"Azlor will make them pay for their sins," the warlord waved off, nonchalant.
"You will pay for your sins, and they will pay for theirs. This land is unforgiving to those who harm it and its people," Maeve announced. Immediately the sky erupted in multitudes of light, and he listened to his men dying, fields away while he was tossed up into the air by the sorceress to be caught up in the fire tornado, screaming as he died.

Maeve relinquished her powers soon after the invaders succumbed to their deaths. She was lowered, gently, to the ground and the storms dissipated. The people still left alive and had been protected by their sorceress shouted and cried victory, touting Maeve as their saviour. Maeve faltered slightly, having been robbed of her strength from maintaining that level of power. She kneeled in the battlefield, as the people rejoiced and began checking their loved ones.

Maeve had one last thing she needed to do and after a small brew that one of the survivors had given her, she found her legs. She stood, despite the rubbery sensation, and walked, unevenly, over to where the only survivor of the invaders sat, amongst his dead peers.
"Why me?" he asked when Maeve walked up. She now wore the belt of amulets around her waist. The cries of carrion birds filled the skies as they descended upon the dead bodies.
"Because you had sense enough to warn your lord, you have sense enough to tell your King that our land, Tír Flúirseach, is unsafe. Go, now, and never return or face similar consequences!"
The man looked at her once before he nodded and ran off. Maeve turned back and walked back towards her town.

Days Later...

Maeve ascended the grand stairs of the Hall of the Gods of Tír Flúirseach. Here she would face her reckoning, whether she would be put to death or left alive. The common folk of the land revered her, placing her amongst the ranks of their Gods, surely. Many of her kin waited outside as she stepped through the great doors into the room, where a handful of the Gods waited for her.

"Sorceress Maeve of Pearl's Wish, it has been decided that your punishment is life. You have been granted immortality so that you may live with the burden of using baneful magic. The cost of the burden is greater than that of death. For bearing the weight of the burden, we thank you. Without your sacrifice, we would not be here today," explained the Father of all the Gods, his voice softening at the end. Maeve nodded her head in acceptance.
Maeve knew when she stepped onto the battlefield and accepted the powers into her and harnessing them that she would be cursed. But to use baneful magic, blood magic, was so much worse. It stained her soul and ate at her. Immortality was a greater punishment than death.

©L. Young, 2024