Odder The Demon Hunter - The Blood Curse

The radiance of Kellas warmed Odder’s face, and he stretched out his arms. With a wide yawn, he opened his eyes to get his bearings. He found himself standing in the fields outside the castle walls. The aroma of sweet honey with a slight hint of bitter citrus filled the air. Odder recognized the unmistakable scent. Mulder berries.

Farmers gathered in the fields picking this magical fruit from the bushes and placed them into their wicker baskets. The shrubs erupted into different colors of reds, blues, greens, yellows, and even purples with every touch.

He spotted several laughing elflings darting between and around the farmers. They chased each other through the shrubs playing a game of wizards versus beasts. A youthful lassie with long black hair giggled as she ran through Odder’s legs, almost knocking him down. She stopped a few steps in front of him and met his eyes with an innocent grin. Odder smiled back. Her piercing light blue eyes seemed familiar, but he struggled to remember.

Her smile became grim. She moved her lips, but the sound failed to escape. He knelt in front of her. “What’s wrong? What are you trying to say?”

She pointed past him and whispered, “Your House, it’s on fire.” Odder peered over his shoulder; his face went pale at the sight of the castle walls collapsing. Smoke with amber flames billowed over wooden structures, which screeched as they fell. His home now resembled an ancient ruin. He leaped to his feet and wrestled with two immediate thoughts. I need to run! – I need to help! His heart pounded, and his chest tightened. He glanced at the other elves who stood motionless. “Why are you standing there? Run!” He grabbed the youngling’s arm and started to sprint.

“Help,” a faint voice cried out. “Odder, please help me.”

The voice pierced his heart, and he froze. He stood paralyzed as if hexed. I know that voice. It’s from my childhood - any child would. “Mother?”

An uneasy feeling swept over him. He took a deep breath and let go of youngling’s arm. “Get to safety!”

He turned back toward the soaring inferno and ran in the direction of the voice.

He stood in front of the thirty-foot high entry designed to protect the castle from all forms of invasion. Yet, like cackling carvers ripping their prey, the fire consumed the doors making them buckle, creak, and collapse to the ground.

He dodged left and right to evade the flames as he entered. His arm covered his eyes, protecting them from the heat. “Mother, where are you?”

“Help Odder, over here.”

He staggered to a small feminine figure collapsed on the dirt. Long silver and black hair covered the right side of her head, but the flames charred her other side. She tried reaching her arm for Odder, but the fire scorched her skin making it black and crisp like a beast on a spit. Odder gagged at the sight and stench.

“Come to me dear,” she said, with a gruesome smile

Flames erupted as Odder came close. “I can’t!”

“You must!” she screamed.

He tried again, but this time, three creatures manifested from the shadows. The first possessed the head, horns, and massive upper body of a bull with flames spilling from its eyes and mouth. The second creature stood with its flesh ripped from its bones. Rags and torn armor covered its delicate frame, and its skull froze in an expression of misery. The final creature resembled an insect that stood on four legs. Six arms with thin claws protruded from its side and an enormous mouth with hundreds of jagged teeth, nested in the middle of its chest. Tiny appendages circled the orifice and moved as if to draw food into the opening. They grabbed the woman and crept into the dense smoke.

“NO!” Odder shouted.

She screamed a final word as her figure faded into the distance, “Odder…”

He tried to follow, but the smoke overtook him. With every breath, the fire burned his throat, and heat filled his lungs. He fell to his knees in despair. Exhausted, He clutched his chest. “No… no… no.”

“Wake up. Odder, wake up.”

His eyes jolted open. He shuffled his feet and arms, pushing himself up to a sitting position on his bed.

“Everything’s alright. You’re having a bad dream,” said the soft voice.

“A dream?” Odder shook his head. “Yes of course.” He rubbed and cleared his eyes. “Aimma? What are you doing here?”

“I’m tending your wounds. Are you alright?”

“Not really.” He attempted to lift himself off the bed but let out a groan. “I’m in a lot of pain and that nightmare didn’t help. What happened?”

“You suffered injuries while the High Wizard Edan performed a spell on you.”

He rubbed the side of his head. “My heads foggy. I can’t remember much. How long have I been out?”

“I don’t know the exact details except the ritual didn’t go as planned.” Aimma moistened a towel and gently patted Odder’s forehead. “You’ve been unconscious for three days.”

“What, three days? Did I miss the Masquerade Ball?”

“No it’s tonight, but I don’t think you’ll be in any condition to dance.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Even if I could, servants are not allowed.” Odder smiled and immediately cringed. “The screws.”

“What screws?” Aimma asked.

“I remember the wizard screwing a plate into my face.”

“Just relax, I examined you, and there are no screws.”

He touched his face lightly. “How? Did you use magic to heal me?”

“Magic healing doesn’t work on you or did you forget?” She placed her hands on his chin. “No screws, I promise.”

Odder squinted and rubbed the back of his neck. “But I remember.”

“Perhaps it was part of the spell.”

He scratched his head. “It seemed so real. I even collapsed from the pain.”

“Well, your face is fine now.” Aimma smiled and reached for his hands. “How are your wrists?”

“What happened to my wrists?” He held out his arms and stared at the wrappings.

She made eye contact. “They were severely burned.”

He recalled her kind, soft face, and doe-like gray eyes. “Thank you for helping me again.”

“It’s what I do.” She blushed. “Now let me examine your wrists.”

She unwrapped the bandages from around his arms. “Remarkable. You heal quickly.”

“Arrr!” He jerked and bit his lip. “Doesn’t feel like it.” He pressed around his wrist to evaluate the injury. “So you don’t know what happened?”

“Like I said I don’t know the details, but you have severe burns on parts of your body.” She massaged a balm around his wrist. “Since your body rejects magic healing, I used marrow from the ruta snake to sooth your wounds.”

“I’m lucky you know a lot about non-magic healing. Did you learn it all from your grandmother?”

“I did.” She grinned. She was the royal healer in the House of Salutaria. She practiced a form of natural healing called medella. I once asked her why she believed so strongly in such a crude method. She told me that magic is powerful but has its limitations, and someday I may even find myself having to use a more natural way.”

“Appears your grandmother’s prediction came true,” he said, trying not to smile. “She must be a powerful healer. Could she conjure healing breath?”

Aimma giggled. “You mean bring the dead back to life? No, that spell’s a myth.” She reached for a cup and gave it to Odder. “Drink this. It will help with the pain.”

“Thank you.”

She sat next to him on his bed. “So what happened at the magicsmiths? Where did you go?”

Odder took a long sip from his cup and stared into it. “Did you hear about the dead goblin in the back room?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, Serra was back there with him, and…”

“And what?”

“I didn’t tell you, but she’s a Xenduri.”

Aimma raised her brow. “A dark elf? I told you she was trouble.”

“I think you’re right,” said Odder.

He continued to tell Aimma why he left, his encounter with the mole creature, and the confrontation with Renzt.

“Dreadful,” she said, with a look of disgust.

Odder rubbed his temples. “And now I’m remembering more of what happened with the High Wizard. He performed an exorcism. I think I blacked out at the end, but I feel like something bad happened.” He glanced at his markings. The poison climbed further up his arm. “I guess it didn’t work.”

“Bad?”

“Just a feeling.”

“We should find out then.”

Odder sighed. “I just want to recover first.”

“You may not have the luxury of waiting.” She tilted her head, her brow raised. “But we still have an option.”

Odder tightened his lips and looked away.

Aimma frowned and changed the subject. “So tell me about this dream.”

“More of a nightmare.”

She wrinkled the sheets between her fists and leaned in closer.

“My mother, she’s wounded and asking for my help. I try to reach her, but flames stop me. Then out of nowhere, these three monsters, I mean demons. At least I felt they were demons, appear, and carry her off.” He squeezed his eyes shut to stop them from tearing. “I’m left alone, gasping for air, and my lungs burning.”

Aimma covered her mouth. “That’s horrible.” She reached and held Odder’s hands.

“It’s alright. It’s a dream after all.”

“You’ve been through a lot.”

“It’s not so bad,” he said.

“I don’t know anyone who’s experienced what you have?”

“I’m a vekart. It comes with the territory.”

Aimma’s eyes appealed to him. “Then let’s change that. Go talk to the Oracle.”

He lifted his head - his eyes greeting her sincere grin. “I don’t know.”

She stood from the bed and pulled him up. “Don’t you remember what the sorceress Obeah said? Seek the Divine Oracle for your cure.” She led him to the door. “Look what you’ve been through.”

The familiar hushed voice whispered in Odder’s thoughts. “Don’t listen to her.”

He resisted her pull.

“Then aren’t you even slightly curious what happened at the end of the exorcism?” Aimma tightened her grip. “What do you have to lose, Odder? Are you with me?”