A day had passed, yet it seemed like mere hours. She'd been running for ages.
She'd had a few close-calls with the worshipers. Alongside that, she tried eating belladonna, which she had taken to be blueberries. Styx had saved her, but she put off finding any edible plants.
Now they had eaten and could begin their task.
She examined the blood. She had already designed a ritual for gaining access to the memories inside it, but it would be better to do it at night. The darkness provided an ambiance that would strengthen the ritual.
"So, shall we?" Styx asked, playing with a dead bird he'd caught earlier.
She nodded. It was time to begin.
She picked up the journal. It was a Book of Shadows, a diary that contained experiments she had performed. Magical theory fascinated her, alongside the metaphysical implications of magic itself.
All her spells were past experiments as well.
But for now, it would be a vessel for her to jot down whatever she saw, heard, and felt. Not everything seen in a memory could be brought back. Her parents called it automatic writing.
She took the rope she stole from the hunter, tying it to Styx's paw and then to herself. She tightened it until it stung, biting into her flesh.
To tether me to the mortal plane.
Water splashed into her bowl.
To preserve the clarity of the vision.
She ground her last piece of clear quartz until it was powder.
Quartz, to amplify my magical powers and to lend focus to my mind.
She mixed the two together, stirring until the powder dissolved before picking up the vial of blood. It was dark, as dark as the moon itself. The red light illuminated the surrounding shadows, darkening as the ritual continued.
The scent hit her the moment the vial opened, and she drank it all up. It was metallic, cold. Delicious. It washed her tongue, and she struggled to not swallow.
She breathed through her nose, imbuing the air with her intent.
Air rules over intellect and is the seat of all memory.
Ostende mihi, quid est occulta post purpureo iacet
The world was black. Blacker than anything she had ever since before. Thousands of memories, hid within the void. She could not stay for long.
The Dark Gods were not only strong but wise too, and would have placed mental defenses to ensure that she could not find what she sought. The veil of darkness was an effective example.
But no one could truly block a memory. There was always a loophole.
And there it was. A tiny, seemingly ineffectual light in the darkness. Like a glimmer of hope within a sea of despair. She followed it, transfixed by that glimmer. It was so bright...
She hesitated. Could this have been a trick? She doubted she had given the god enough time to put in more advanced magical blocking techniques, but this was nothing particularly sophisticated. Could she trust the light?
Follow the light, or drown in shadow.
She picked the former.
White filled her vision, the dust settling to reveal a courtroom. It was a standard chamber, and there was a man on trial.
"Cato Lucifarus, you stand accused of heresy." The Judge spoke. He was a stern-looking man, with musty robes and a strict air of impatience.
The man on trial seemed to be annoyed. He was dressed in casual wear, which seemed odd considering his situation. Still, the Church loved odd people. Anything bad happened, the odd ones were blamed, framed as witches while the real sorcerers practiced their craft in peace.
"Well? What do you have to say for yourself, and of this?" The Judge spoke, brandishing a book.
"This here, gentlemen, is a journal containing certain proof of Cato's allegiance with the Devil!"
The crowd stared, their mouths agape as the Judge continued.
"Here Cato shows his true colors. Detailed here are the several satanic experiments he has done, how he has sold his soul to the Devil. What do you have to say about that, Cato? How do you plead?"
"Not guilty, of course. What fool would plead with the other?" He grumbled.
How brave. Though of course, brave could easily turn into foolish. Still, she supposed, there was no point in being polite. They would execute him either way.
A shame. He seemed a smart man. Smart people in the world were a dying breed.
She was itching to get a closer look at the journal. But this was not something she could manipulate. It was a memory, the hunter's memory, and she was bound to whatever he had seen.
"Not only has he sold his soul, but he also preaches heresy to the other children! Several younglings have been seen with this man, who darkens their souls with his sin. Tell us, my friends, should we tolerate this blackening of the innocent with his lies?!"
He shouted, and the crowd screamed for his execution.
"Order, order!"
She gritted her teeth. When would the topic of Yggdrasill begin?
"And now, to end this trial, I bring to the court's attention the last straw. He speaks of a tree, a great tree. A tree that bridges that gap between countless worlds! Now, as you know my friends, there are only three worlds. Those that God has created. The Cursed Mortal World, Heaven, and Hell.
But this fool speaks of more. Worlds upon worlds upon worlds, all of which are accessible by Yggdrasill, the mythical Tree. This is the darkest heresy, and so I condemn Cato Lucifarus to burning!"
The crowd screamed in joy as the memory faded away.
No!
There had to be more, something, anything!
She stared around her, desperately grasping for something, anything. Another memory, anything that would help her.
It was all for nothing. The memory faded away, and with it, hope.
"It was all for nothing Styx." She growled. It was useless. When she awoke, she immediately looked to her writings, but found nothing but random lines. They filled the entire page.
She sighed, putting her head against a tree. She was tired. The ritual had drained her strength away, and she could barely keep herself awake.
Styx stared at the paper.
"What are you looking at?" She asked. He looked at her, feline eyes glowing in the shadows. They twinkled with mischief.
"Just wondering about you humans. You see with your eyes, yet struggle to see with your minds. It's rather funny, to be honest."
She glared.
"The point?"
"Why don't you take another look at the map?"
"I've already looked at the-A map?"
She grabbed the paper. There, clear as day, were two pentagrams. One was facing down, a "satanic" star, the other was the ordinary elemental star that most witches referred to. Between them were drawings of what she now recognized as trees, rivers, and villages.
Map-reading had never been her strongest suit, and in her exhaustion, she barely noticed it.
She was wide-awake now, staring at the two points. The satanic star was them, and the elemental their destination.
It wasn't drawn in scale, so there was no way to know how far it really was. But she estimated that the sooner they got there, the better it would be.
"What do you think?" Styx asked.
"We have to try Styx."
"Do we leave now?" He questioned.
She weighed her options. They could sleep now, and set off at day. It would give them both time to rest. It would also leave them vulnerable.
She and Styx could leave immediately, which would leave her exhausted. Of course, it would also mean she could deal with threats more quickly. She sighed.
"As much as I want to leave immediately, we need to rest. I can barely hold my head up."
Styx nodded, bundling up close to her. It was cold out.
As they slept, Adreanna felt an emotion that she had never thought she'd ever feel again. It was not happiness, anticipation, or nervousness, though all three and more were vying for attention.
It was an emotion that had abandoned her ever since her parents died. An emotion that brightened her spirits and filled her with resolution.
Hope.
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