Odder The Demon Hunter - The Blood Curse

Odder sat on a wooden stool outside the arena while Destin paced from one side to the other, his arm crossed his chest, while he held his right hand over his mouth. “Guard, leave us.”

He stopped, glared, and shook his fist. “Are you crazy? You embarrassed me in front of the High Wizard.”

“Worthless, worthless, worthless.” Odder’s inner voice repeated. He bowed his head. “Sorry my lord. My anger overtook me again.”

Destin let out a sigh while tapping his forehead “It’s always your anger.” He stepped away, his back facing Odder, and peered toward the arena. He viewed flashes of light, smoke, and lightning, and listened to the oohs and ahhs of the captivated audience.

“Listen to the elves. The High Wizard is teaching them advanced protection and attack spells. Not long from now as the Tetrad begins and the evil creatures advance to the portal, it’s possible many of them may lose their lives.” Destin turned back toward Odder. “Less than a week until the competition. This is important. There is no other elf in the land as skilled as I, and I’ll have the immense responsibility to protect the portal.”

Odder never questioned nor cared about the decisions of the rulers, but having a young wizard responsible for such an important duty, confused him. He looked up at Destin. “Why a young wizard and not a High Wizard?”

Destin pulled at his chin. He paused before answering. “Valid question. Our King and the High Wizards of each House will be leading the armies. If the wicked creatures reach the portal, that will mean the Elven armies have fallen, and the Champion will be the last defender.”

“If this can happen, then why have the King’s not enlisted all the citizens?” Odder asked, with an eyebrow raised.

“There is a plan in place, but the King did share the written record of the last Tetrad with me. The elven armies easily defeated the creatures before the portal even opened.”

Odder gave an uneasy smile. “Nothing to worry about then?”

Destin returned his smile and walked over to the young servant. “Remember when I found you wandering the woods with no memory and no name?”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Maybe, but I still remember it like yesterday. You wore next to nothing - a torn shirt and pants, no shoes, your ribs resembled a wooden rodent cage, oh and that wooden sword tightly bound to your back.”

Odder gripped his hilt as Destin spoke.

“That ridiculous sword, I’m sure some cattle herder gave it to you out of pity.” He placed his hand on Odder’s shoulder. “I had just lost my little brother, and when I saw you helpless and lost, I felt a strong desire to help you. Even despite your handicap. I pleaded with my father to make you my servant. Ever since I have taken care of you as a brother. Have I not?”

“He’s lying to you,” said Odder’s inner voice, but he remembered the special bond between him and the Prince. There’s no one I respect or trust more. He nodded with a grin.

Destin placed his other hand on Odder’s shoulder and shook him. “So don’t worry, I had your back then, and I have it now.”

Odder smiled from ear to ear.

“Now head back to the castle and tend to your duties.”

“What about the package my lord?”

“There’s a slight complication that I will have to deal with personally, but I may need you later. For now, back to the castle. I’ll meet you there, and you can help me pick out my masquerade costume.”

“Yes my lord.” Odder stood. “Do I have time to stop off at the market?”

Destin looked in the sky at Kellas. “It’s midmorning. I’ll grant you a couple of hours but stay out of trouble.”

“Oh I will, I promise.”

His feet, as if possessed, led the way north over the well-placed cobblestone road while he examined the markings on his forearm. These patterns are getting darker, and it looks like it’s spreading. If Finkle didn’t give them to me, then who did?

Oblivious to the townsfolk walking by, he stumbled several times until running straight into the famous statue of Lazden. He fell back onto his rear. An intense pain shot from his wounds to his chest. Odder gripped his forearm until the pain departed. He glanced up at the granite figure holding a broadsword. A gold plaque at the base read, Lazden – Holder of the Light.

“Servant, have some respect,” said an obese old elf, dressed in an olive green jacket and matching pants. His gold-chained belt, violet scarf, large rings, and a ruby-tipped cane implied nobility. “Don’t you know who this is? Lazden the demon killer.” He picked up his cane and swatted Odder several times in the shoulder and back. “Disrespectful youth.”

“I meant no disrespect, my lord,” Odder said, attempting to dodge the elf’s blows.

Several curious townsfolk stopped to observe the commotion, but then became unconcerned and went on their way.

A sentry dressed in leather garb approached. “Is there trouble here?”

“This degenerate has no respect for our heroes.” The old elf said while shaking his stick at Odder.

“I’m sorry my lord,” said Odder. “Just a misunderstanding.”

The guard closed his eyes and shook his head. He nudged them both in two different directions. “Alright, there’s no harm here. You two get on your way.”

“Yes, sir.” Odder ducked behind the statue and out of sight. What an awful day, he thought, now to find my bearings.

He made a quick survey of the area. To the west ascended the Mountains of Adeldus with their majestic white tipped peaks that soared into the heavens, and the splendid castle of the House of Elestus, perched against the mountain’s granite side. Odder considered how badly the day turned out and decided to travel north from the arena, past the southern watchtower, and around the corner to the market. Fewer guards this way.

Odder lifted his nose. The aroma of freshly baked bread, roasting anzu, and fried wild gris filled the air. A sudden stampede of forest gnomes rushed past Odder, knocking him to the ground. He stood, annoyed and brushed the dirt from his pants.

The market always buzzed with activity due to King Gralon’s protection spell which surrounded the castle and allowing a safe place for the kingdom to trade. Creatures of every kind haggled within the castle walls. Elves from other townships, giants, fairies, dwarves, forest beast, an occasional satyr, and gnomes (although most would welcome the exile of their mischievous species) came to barter items such as their daily meals, magic potions, livestock, weapons, tools, and wardrobes.

Today, though, appeared to be extra busy. It seemed the entire kingdom crowded the streets preparing for the coming Tetrad. Merchants capitalized on the traffic by posting signs warning of the event. They battled for every onlooker’s attention.

“You there, young elf. I have here unique and rare spices from the Mist Islands. These spices belong to the wealthy. However, for you, two silver ducats.”

“Oh shut up swindler. How is perfume going to protect him when the goblins attack?” said a merchant with a rat like face. He waved to get Odder’s attention. “What this lad needs is dragon armor. Gaze at this exquisite breastplate made from the scales of a spotted greenwing dragon -”

“Swindler, me? The spotted greenwing dragon is hardly a dragon at all, more like a forest lizard.”

Odder stood silent, forgotten by the two merchants as they argued back and forth. He quietly slipped away only to be trapped by another dealer. “You too can wield the flaming sword of Maha’De with this authentic replica.” He held a flaming sword and waved it in the air leaving trails of fire in its wake. “The fire is just an illusion of course.” He smiled. “Two gold ducats.”

“Wow, expensive.” But amazing, Odder thought. “Can I hold it?”

The merchant spoke through his teeth. “Move on. This replica is not for servants. Odder bit his lower lip.

“We have no need of your money,” a stern but calm voice said.

Odder glanced over to see a tall, thin monk dressed in a white hooded robe with a golden cord around his waist. He held a staff with a symbol of a golden eye at the top and stood at an entryway into a white tent.

“I am Thalius, and we are the Followers of the Light. You should consider joining our pilgrimage to the Great Tetrad’s portal.” He held out a rolled up scroll. “After the Champion’s Quest, we’ll journey to each of the Seven Houses to experience their magical essence, and then to the portal to witness the Divine.”

Odder grimaced. “No thank you.” He waved both hands in front of him and took several steps back.

“Are you saying no to the Creator and the Celestines?”

“The Creator gave up on me long ago, and the Celestines – has anyone ever seen one?”

“Just because we do not see, does not mean they do not exist.” The monk held out his hand. “Please join my brothers and me in the tent. We can enlighten you and make you a believer.”

“Uh, no. I’m really not interested in your religion.” Odder turned and quickened his pace, this time ignoring the sales pitches of the other merchants.

“These are not magic beans.” A rough voice yelled from around the corner. “These are worthless mung beans dipped in glitter.”

“I assure you these are the beans you are looking for,” countered another voice. “Please keep quiet. No need to draw attention.”

“Why, so you can deceive others?” The voice yelled across the crowd. “Tonks, this merchant’s trying to steal from us.”

Odder shook his head after he recognized the voice. “Finkle.” Trouble follows that gnome like sprites to mulder berries.

“Your fortune told?” As if snared in a net, a sweet feminine voice captured Odder’s attention.

He gazed at her, mesmerized by her piercing blue eyes. “S… s… sorry, I have to grab a foolish gnome before he gets into real trouble.”

“Looks like the gnome can handle himself. Perhaps you have a question that needs an answer?”

“I do,” Odder said, in a low trance-like tone. He sat on a rickety wood chair in front of a round red table with a hovering sign that read, Discover Your Fate Before the Tretrad.

“I have a question no one can seem to answer.” Odder stared wide-eyed at the fortuneteller sitting in front of him. A black silk veil covered her face exposing only her eyes. Her long silver hair weaved into a tight ponytail, and she wore a dark violet cloak. A thin white cloth covered her arms and slipped under her linen gloves.

She reached her hand toward Odder, revealing her crimson leather clothing underneath, and opened her palm. “Very well. My fee is three silver ducats.”

Odder frowned. “I have no money.”

The fortuneteller glanced to her left and right. “I like your short silver hair. It’s different.” She smiled and pulled back her hand. “I’m feeling generous today. This one is free.”

“Thank you,” Odder said, smiling. “I am different.”

“Aren’t we all? So what’s your question?”

“I’m magicless.” He bit his lower lip. “Can you tell me why?”

The fortuneteller leaned in and examined him. “A vekart?” She sat back. “No such thing. Every living creature possesses magic.”

“Except me.”

“The label vekart is just an insult,” she explained, her words quick and sharp.

“I can’t wield magic like other elves,” Odder insisted. “Spells can’t heal me.”

She leaned in for a closer look.

“A healer examined me with a lens from a seeker’s eye and found nothing. She said I lack even a simple aura.”

“Your healer is incompetent.” She searched under the table and pulled out a small leather pouch. She emptied several individually wrapped spheres and placed them in front of her.

“Which eye did the healer use?” She asked, removing the covers.

“The big one.” He wrinkled his nose, recalling his dislike of the giant eye.

“The seekers are bred to be hunters. Magic comes in different forms and the seeker’s seven eyes are designed to detect all magic.” She held up a light blue lens to her eye and gazed at Odder. “Humph.” She grabbed a yellow one. “Humph.” And so on until she placed the last one on the table.

Odder sank into his chair when he sensed her pessimism.

She placed her fingers over her mouth. “What’s your name?”

“Odder.”

She furrowed her brow. “Peculiar name but not as strange as your absence of magic. Impossible really. All creatures come from the spirit realm of magic.” The fortuneteller leaned back. “You are a mystery.” She covered her mouth again for several seconds this time. “Are you holding any amulets, crystals, rings, marks – “

“Marks!” Odder interrupted and fumbled for his sleeve. “These markings appeared as blisters on my forearm this morning and now have distinct patterns.” He pulled back his sleeve and bandages to show her.

“Ah.” She gripped his arm, pulling it close. “I’ve seen these before.”

Odder leaned forward. “You have? I thought my gnome friend played a prank on me. What do they mean?”

“This infinity symbol represents the Tetrad. These other three are demon symbols.”

“Demon symbols?” He said, tapping his right fingers on the table. “How?”

She shuffled through her lenses. “This is the one.” She held a light pink lens up and examined his markings. “Hmm… Ah, yes –”

“What? What do you see?”

“Your wrappings covered the faint aura given off by your symbols.”

Nervous anticipation filled Odder. He tightened his muscles until he shook. “Please tell me.”

She placed the lens carefully in its wrapping. “I know why you can’t wield magic.” She lowered her brow and sighed. “You’re cursed.”

“Don’t listen to her. She’s trying to deceive you,” said his inner voice. Confused, Odder tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

She pointed at his forearm. “See here? Here? And here? These three demons are obstructing your magic. Someone’s placed a powerful demon curse on you.”

“It’s a ruse,” his inner voice said. “Run away now.” Odder settled his thoughts. He needed answers. “But why? I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know why.” The fortuneteller leaned back and placed her fingertips together. “But let me ask you a question. Do you want the ability to wield magic?”

He perked up. “Yes, more than anything.”

She moved forward, placed her hands on the table, and glanced around. “I might be able to help you,” she whispered.

His chair creaked as he leaned back. “And what do you want from me?”

“Can you get me into the King’s Masquerade?”

“The ball?” He shook his head. “Only honored guests and royalty are allowed to attend. Why?”

She smiled. “I come from a poor village, and I would be the envy of every maiden if I could attend such a glorious event.”

Odder pulled at his chin for several moments. “I might be able to get you in as a servant.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Better than nothing.”

“So how do I get my magic?”

“There’s a master wizard, a wizard of potions. He dwells south of here in the marshlands, and he possesses a compilation of demon lore.”

“And he can help?” asked Odder.

“Gnome attack! Gnome attack!” A voice cried out. Odder jumped to his feet. Different colors and sizes of seeds scattered through the air. A small crowd of bodies fled from a nearby stand. A merchant swatted at several potato size gnomes as they pulled on his sparse head of hair. One dangled from the elf’s forked beard, while another that looked horribly like Odder’s friend Finkle clutched on the merchant’s brow, and punched his eye.

Flailing his thin arms and hands in the air, the merchant cried out, “help, help!”

“I’m sorry. I have to go, but I’ll be back.” Odder raced toward the ruckus. Reckless gnomes. Especially Finkle. Friend or not -I’m not helping him out of this mess.

He stood within the crowd, watching for a few moments. The event reminded him of a carnival act and certainly entertained the audience. The small gnomes jumped and bounced off the merchant’s head and body at every attempt to grab them. Each time, they took pot shots at his face.

Odder shook his head. “Finkle, Finkle! Get over here. The guards will be here soon.”

Finkle peered over, gave Odder a quick wink, and then popped the merchant in the eye. Odder rolled his eyes. “Fine, you Tonks sleep well in your prison cell tonight.”

Annoyed, he made his way through the spectators and back to the fortuneteller, only to be greeted by her empty chair. “Fortuneteller, I’m back.” No one answered. “Hello?” The sign above the table caught his attention, Closed.

Odder sat in the creaky chair and took advantage of the extra time to observe the elves, creatures, and merchants going about their business. A sudden gleam of light caught his attention, just past the fortuneteller’s booth, away from the bartering, and in a back alley of some cobblestone homes. A parchment posted on a wall flashed, Learn Magic Here.

He paused, cupped his elbow with one hand and tapped his lips with the other. He stood and moved toward the alley. Standing in front of the laminated parchment, he thought, this is an unusual place for a class.

“Hey slug,” a heated voice said, behind Odder.

He spun around. Renzt stood with his two younger brothers, loathing in their eyes.

Renzt pounded his fist into his palm. “I’m not surprised you fell for that trick. Now, time for payback. You remember my two brothers, Pithy and Curt?”

Great. The bully and his two egg shaped brothers. How do I talk my way out of this? “Plead for forgiveness,” Odder’s inner voice said. “Renzt, I overreacted at the arena.” He backed up slowly until his back hit a wall. “I let my anger overtake me, it won’t happen again.”

Renzt stepped toward Odder. “Your excuses are like vomit and sickens me. I told you I’d come for you, and now it’s time to teach you a lesson.”

“I understand you’re upset, but I’ve had enough of your lessons,” said Odder, taking a quick glance around for an escape route.

“Oh yeah?” the three said in unison.

Renzt held out his hand, and a walnut size fireball appeared. Pithy started belching and spit out green acid that fizzled as it fell, and Curt pulled a small rusty dagger from his belt.

As the gang approached, Odder pulled out his wooden sword. “Stay Back, please,” he said, stammering.

“Oh, this is delightful,” Renzt said, with a sly grin. “Do you think your stick will help you this time? Begging for mercy would be a better choice.”

“You don’t really wanna pick on him,” said a soft feminine voice, from behind the elves. He’s no match against such great wizards, and that wouldn’t be any fun.”

Immediately, the three bullies and Odder turned. Against the stone wall stood a petite figure wearing a dark violet cloak which hung from her shoulders. A hood covered her head and face, while she donned a crimson leather vest and a black skirt. A leather belt, which sheathed two daggers, wrapped around her thin waist.

“We could have more fun with you instead.” Renzt licked his lips.

“No, that wouldn’t be fun either.” She raised her hands and disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. A split second later, she appeared in front of Renzt. She grabbed and twisted his left hand outward, while at the same time sending her left palm into his chin. He flew back several feet and landed in a slop bucket.

Odder fixated on the action and followed her movements. Is that… the fortuneteller?

Pithy and Curt looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and raced toward the cloaked female. Pithy bellowed while projecting acid and Curt sliced the air as if cutting cabbage. Just before reaching her, she disappeared in a burst of dark smoke, and moments later reappeared behind the thugs. A swift kick behind Pithy’s knee, made him fall to the ground. She chopped Curt’s neck and punched him in the kidney. When he fell to his knees, she raised her leg and kicked him in the back of the head with the heel of her leather boot. Curt dropped his knife and fell with a thud.

Pithy spotted the blade, grabbed it, and thrust the knife into the fortuneteller’s thigh.

She screamed, pulled the knife out, and tossed it to the ground. “Gross! Rusty blade.” She flared her nostrils. “Fine, I like to play with knives too.” She pushed her cloak back and withdrew two large glowing daggers.

The foot-long black blades curved at the tips with large serrated edges near the top and smaller serrated edges toward the bottom. The appearance suggested death to any challengers.

The attackers’ faces turned pale at the sight. Pithy and Curt stumbled away, grabbed Renzt under his skinny arms, and sprinted out of the alley.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

Odder shook his head side to side, “I think so.”

She remained silent and put away her daggers.

“Fortuneteller?” Odder asked, bemused.

“That’s me,” she said, with a smirk.

“Thank you.” Relieved, he walked toward her. “Is your leg alright?”

She turned and started for the main road. “It’s good.”

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I can’t stay here. Guards will flood this alley any moment.”

“I don’t even know your name?”

“Serra.”

He stopped following. “I’m the servant to the King’s son. I’ll ask him to reward you for helping me. He’s a fine master and soon to be Champion.”

Serra stopped, paused for a moment, and then disappeared in that same dark cloud of smoke. She reappeared in front of him, grabbed his chin, and pushed him back slightly. She stared into Odder’s eyes. “Fine master? You know nothing of the King’s son.”

Odder’s eyes sprung open. He wanted to say something, but her hand held his mouth shut. Her bare face and arms revealed her unique features. Her body petite and youthful, but her skin was pale gray like spent ash after a night’s fire. Black tattoos of various symbols shifted and moved on her skin as if they had a life of their own. Still captivated by her piercing light blue eyes, he relaxed. She pulled back her hood and revealed her long silver hair with black highlights. She’s a dark elf. I’ve never seen one this close.

Serra continued to stare in his eyes, then turned his head from one side to the other as if inspecting his facial features. “Oh, Oddy. What am I to do with you?”

“I-gosom-sproot-fo-yo-lay,” Odder mumbled.

She gave a puzzled expression and released his jaw. “Whataya saying?”

“I got some spirit root for your leg.” He handed her the root. She let out a hardy laugh then walked toward the street. “Wait Serra, what about our deal?”

She stopped. “Maybe. Can you still get me into the masquerade?”

“There you are. Why did you run off?” Said a gruff voice from behind Odder. “You missed the best part.”

Odder turned to see Finkle standing without his hat, his red hair flared out, and showing off his black eye. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your hat,” he said, laughing. “This is Serra.” He turned to introduce the gnome to the maiden, but she vanished, and in her place drifted a faint mist of dark smoke.