Odder The Demon Hunter - The Blood Curse

Finkle took a bite from an anzu leg then pointed it at Odder. “So you expect me to believe that a fortunetelling, tattooed dark elf, swooped in and rescued you from the town bully and his brothers, then disappeared in a haze of black smoke?”

“Her name is Serra,” Odder said, shifting his weight on a wooden bench, “and yes.”

The gnome shrugged. “Alright then.” He took another bite. “Tell me more about these markings you accused me of giving you.”

Odder scratched his head. “Really? So you don’t find what happened unusual?

The gnome tapped his head with the half eaten leg. He paused and opened his mouth, then closed it and started tapping again.

Odder rolled his eyes. “Oh stop it.” Finkle burst out in laughter with Odder joining in. “Alright, alright. She examined the symbols with a seekers eye and found them to be enchanted.”

The gnome passed his plate over to share his meal.

“And she thinks the markings are a demon curse,” Odder added. “She knows a wizard who can help me.”

“Sounds suspicious,” Finkle said. “Maybe she’s a bog witch trying to steal your soul?” He took a swig of a drink.

“Odder shook his head. “No way. She’s beautiful and has these amazing eyes.”

Finkle’s smirk grew and turned into a laugh. He pounded his cup on the table. “Ah, you have a crush on her.”

Odder felt his face get hot. His cheeks reddened. “No.”

“Ha ha!” The gnome jumped off the bench and ran in tight circles.

“Stop that, you ridiculous creature.”

Finkle rolled into a cartwheel and jumped back on the bench. “You must court her.” He held his arms up as if holding something, arched his back, and tiptoed toward Odder. “You sneak up behind her, throw a burlap bag over her body, and drag her into a potato garden. If out of season, a radish garden will do. You then-”

Odder covered his ears. “Ugh… no more.”

Finkle grimaced and sat back down.

“I’m really not interested in the gnomes mating rituals.”

“Fine, suit yourself.”

After a moment of awkward silence, Odder changed the subject. “So what was all that fighting about with the merchant?”

“That crook tried to sell me useless beans,” Finkle said, with a pouty face. “They were supposed to be enchanted. You know the kind?”

“Beanstalk?” Odder asked.

“No,” Finkle responded. His head sunk into his shoulders. “Plant them and get a nymph.”

“What!” Odder yelled. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” He erupted in laughter. “You’re a gnome. You know you can’t plant beans and get a magic nymph to sprout out of the ground. What would you do with it anyway? Trap it in a burlap bag?”

The gnome’s face turned the same shade has his peach fuzz. “Well I figured it out quickly, and I let my family know too.”

Grinning, Odder asked, “And the guards, how did you get away from them?”

“This merchant’s been cheating townsfolk for weeks. The guards finally had proof, so they let us go if we promised to not cause any more fights.”

“There you are,” said a soft voice, walking up behind Odder.

They both turned - Finkle almost falling off his seat.

“It’s me, Aimma, the healer. You were supposed to meet me.”

“Yes of course,” said Odder as he stood. “I got into a little trouble and I forgot.”

“No harm done.” Aimma shrugged. “Sorry for startling you.” She smiled.

“No apologies needed.”

“Missy, I need an apology. You nearly knocked me off my seat.” The gnome snapped.

Odder gave his friend a stern gaze. “Don’t mind him. He’s bitter over some bad beans.”

“Well I am sorry little gnome, and don’t you look cute with your little hat off.” She bent over and pinched his cheek. Finkle wrinkled his nose and gave her a harsh stare.

“Maybe this will help your mood.” She reached into her satchel, searched for a moment, then handed him a small tan cotton bag.

The gnome grasped it with both hands, held it close to his nose and floated to his back. He rolled back and forth snorting like a baby pig in warm mud.

Odder stood silent, his mouth open and eyes as big as saucers. “What did you do to him?”

“Don’t worry. It’s just some fresh hibiscus peddles from Salutaria. Gnomes find it irresistible.” Aimma sat next to the gnome and tickled his tummy. “I did some checking on your condition, and I’m certain I know what it is.”

“A curse,” Odder said.

Aimma raised her eyebrows. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

He sat next to the healer. “I just chatted with a fortuneteller.” He pulled his sleeve up. “She discovered that my symbols do give off traces of magic.”

“But I didn’t find anything.” She stopped tickling the gnome. “Are you sure she wasn’t trying to swindle you out of a few gold ducats?”

“Yes, but not for gold.” Finkle chimed in as he sat up.

Odder shook his head at the gnome. “No, I told her I didn’t have any money, and she still wanted to help. Besides, she rescued me from getting clobbered.”

“Oh really?” Aimma stiffened her posture. “Please, tell me more?”

“She emerged from a cloud of sulfur and flew through the air like a screaming shadow creature.” The gnome held out his fingers and made an angry snarl. “Her fierce claws ripping –“

“Stop it, Finkle,” said Odder, shaking his fist in the air. “She just saved me from the town bullies.”

“Well, this is the market, and nothing is free,” said Aimma. “You shouldn’t trust her.”

Odder shrugged his shoulders while Finkle nodded his head in agreement.

“I don’t specialize in curses but I can tell this isn’t an ordinary hex.” Aimma grabbed Odder’s arm. “Whatever placed this spell on you, wanted to keep you from doing magic.

“So how do I break the spell?” Odder asked.

“I spoke with sorceress Obeah, and she believes you may have a demon curse.” Odder’s expression did not change. “Hello, I said a demon curse. Not your typical spell. You should be shocked.”

“Sorry, I already know.”

“Let me guess, the fortuneteller told you?”

Odder slumped in his seat. “She said she could help and suggested I visit a great wizard who lives in the marshlands.”

“Marshlands? Now I know she’s conning you.” Aimma stood. “The sorceress wants to examine you herself, and she insisted that I bring you to her.” She reached for Odder’s hand. “This way.”

Odder peered at the positions of the two suns in the sky. Kellas overtook the slower Ophelia by midday. “I have my servant duties, and I’m scheduled to meet my master in a couple of hours. I don’t think I have enough time.”

“Nonsense,” Aimma said. “There’s plenty of time. Besides, we are meeting her at the Elestus Archives which is on the way to the castle.” She turned toward the gnome. “Sorry Finkle, I have to take my hibiscus back, but you are welcome to join us.”

The gnome tightened his grip. “Just a little longer?”

Aimma squinted and pursed her lips.

“Oh alright,” Finkle said and placed the bag in her hands. “I’ll meet you two there.” He did an aerial flip off the bench. “I have to purchase a new hat. I’m thinking of a new style, a fez or a chullo perhaps.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be outrageous,” Odder said. “Meet us in front of the archives when you’re done.”

The gnome saluted and jumped off into the crowd.

“He’s a good friend,” Odder told Aimma as they walked out of the market.

“I’m sure he is. Do you have any elf friends?”

“No, not really.” Odder sighed. “How about you?”

“I have a few in Salutaria, but I don’t have time to socialize here while I intern to become a wizard in healing.”

“How far have you gotten?”

Aimma smiled, pulling up her sleeve. “I accomplished apprentice within a year and invoker seven months later. Now I’m a conjuror.”

“Wow, you must be brilliant.”

She blushed and pulled down her sleeve. “This way, we’re close.”

After passing several shops and homes, they arrived at the archives. Odder peered at the large gray granite building. Plain, he thought. He ran up to the ten-foot wooden doors and tried to pull them open.

“Don’t bother. A magic-lock spell seals the doors.” Aimma raised her hand to the door and chanted, “Signa aper ostium.” The doors creaked open.

Torches illuminated the interior. Odder shifted his eyes back and forth, as he scanned the room. “Not at all what I expected. Where are all the books? The only thing I see is this single book on a table.”

“It’s a thick book, though,” Aimma said. “Elves use magic remember? I realize you lack wizardry teachings because of your handicap, but with magic - one can put endless information into a small space.” She pointed down a hall. “This way. The sorceress is expecting you.”

A sudden fear gripped Odder. He held his stomach and stepped lightly. A feeling of insecurity twisted in his throat. “They cannot help you,” his inner voice said, with a cold harshness.

“Odder.” Aimma squeezed his arm. “Are you alright?”

“Sure,” He grimaced. “Let’s get this over with.”

As they entered another room, a sweet, high-pitched voice greeted them. “Welcome, my dear lad. “I am the sorceress Obeah. Please have a seat.”

“Now this looks like an archive,” Odder said.

Rows and rows of books and scrolls surfaced the walls. Bones of creatures stood in various poses and labeled jars of different organs placed on shelves. In the center, several granite tables and wooden chairs gave a warm welcome. The room illuminated brightly even without the presence of torches and candles.

Odder sat on the wooden chair wrapped in fine leather. He bowed his head. “Sorceress.”

“Please Odder, this is an informal meeting.” Obeah shifted her headdress, a rather bulky and white cone that curved forward into a point. The sides fanned out like bird wings and rustled when she turned. “Welcome to my private library. It has taken me centuries to collect everything you see here.”

“Impressive,” he responded.

“Indeed.” She directed her attention back to Odder. “Aimma told me of your markings. May I inspect them?”

“Yes of course.” He held out his arm and rolled up his sleeve.

She pushed herself up from her seat and sauntered next to the elf. Her weight and age made her slow, not to mention her attire of many fabric layers of reds, yellows and golds weighing down on her short frame. She gripped his wrist and pulled him close. “Yes indeed. Aimma, please bring me the tome of demons located in the category curses, segment thirteen, section nine, item two, volume one.

Aimma faced the southern wall, held up her hands, and made various gestures. Each time, groups of books shifted and moved until one volume stood out. She motioned for its retrieval, and it floated to her hands. She placed the tome on the table next to the sorceress.

“Thank you my dear.” Obeah reached under her sash at her waist and pulled out a glass wand. She tapped the cover, and the book sprung open. She waved her wand, and the pages danced from side to side like puppets under the spell of their master. The pages shuffled back and forth. After what seemed like hours, she tapped the book once more. It closed with a loud thud that echoed in the room.

With a somber expression, she made her way back to her seat. “I can confirm this is no ordinary curse. A poison inflicts your arm, and it appears to be spreading. As for the meaning of the markings, I’m sorry, I cannot identify the symbols. You will need to go to a greater authority than I to find out how to break the spell.”

Odder lowered his head. “This poison curse, is it lethal?”

“Yes.”

His eyes burned. “I suppose there’s no cure?”

Aimma stepped up and gave him a gentle pat on his back.

“Head up now. I did not say the shadow reapers are coming for you.” The sorceress slammed her palm on the table. “Aimma, search the Elestus archives for the Divine Oracle, and take Odder to him.”

“Yes, Sorceress Obeah.” She nudged him to follow.

“I cannot help you from this point on. I am toward the end of my years, and I’m too old and sluggish to keep up with you. I assign Aimma as your healer.” Obeah winked to the young maiden. “No charge Aimma. Consider Odder’s condition as part of your apprenticeship. Now go and seek your cure.”

Aimma stood over the book with Odder by her side. She placed her hands over the outer cover. “Aper suri signa.” The book opened not to pages but fine white sand in its middle. “Search information on the Divine Oracle.” The sand flew into the air, making a rough swooshing sound, then filled the room, and formed words and pictures.

“That’s a lot of information,” Odder said, feeling overwhelmed. “Maybe you can be more specific.”

Aimma looked back into the book. “Where is the Divine Oracle located?”

The pictures and words shifted in the air, turning back into sand, and one by one falling back into the book until only a three-dimensional castle floor plan hovered.

Aimma used her hands to manipulate the picture, zooming in, and changing positions. “Here, I found the location of the Oracle, under the King’s war room.”

Odder threw his hands up. “Wonderful. Another dead end.”

“We just need to get permission from the King.”

“He will never grant that request.”

“You give up too easy! We can ask, and if he says no, we may have another option.” Aimma spread her hands apart, making the floorplan zoom in. “Here.” She pointed at an air shaft. “If we can get into the room above, we can make our way down the air shaft, bypass the war room, and enter into this passage below.”

“What’s the room above?” Odder asked.

“It’s labeled squat.”

Odder pulled at his short hair as he tried to fight off the uncertainty. “This idea is crazy,” his inner voiced said. “No,” Odder answered, “it’s too messy and too risky.”

“It may be our only option,” Aimma said.

“It’s not. I have another.”

Aimma frowned, closed the book, and crossed her arms. The floorplan vanished in a flash. “You shouldn’t live in fear Odder, and I hope you’re not considering that fortuneteller as the other option, right?”

“I’ll go with the easiest and safest choice.” Odder walked toward the exit. “Or maybe nothing at all.”

“Where are you going?”

“This is too much for me to take in right now.” He paused at the door and talked toward the ground. “I need some time to think.”

“Well, you’re not leaving without me.” Aimma followed him out. The wooden doors slammed behind them.

Odder took several steps then stopped. A foreboding cloud seemed to surround him. “Does it feel eerie to you out here?”

The wind whistled over the cobblestones and dust swirled at their feet.

“Yes, where are all the townsfolk?” Aimma stepped closer to Odder. “The silence, it’s unnatural.”