Ogres and Ogresses

"WHERE

IS

SHE?"

"My lord!"

"BRING HER NOW!"

"My lord... she-she is not here. We have searched every inch of the Marble Tree, and the witches search the valley now. We cannot find her."

There was a vein at the back of Caligula's neck that threatened to burst.

This, this was a direct act of defiance. And he would not be defied. He was being disrespected by not only

his

keromedio, but by her quibbling, lowly servant, who dared defy

him

, Caligula, the most powerful witch in all of the North realm.

"I want her found."

"Something troubles you, my love?"

Caligula glanced over to the only witch that would dare approach him in anger.

"Salurra."

The cool Asian beauty strode forward. Salurra's blood red fingernails walked up his arm, reminding him of the many nights when she had dug them into his flesh in a fit of passion. The rites of Bacchus had been quite fun in her company. Still, she was weak, and he could never accept a mate who was so much weaker. Etaceh, despite her flaws, was closest to his equal.

But...well, he didn't have time to think of why Etaceh would rather die than become his. He controlled her with fear, and he controlled Salurra with sex.

"Has your keromedio been misbehaving?" she cooed.

He frowned as she wound her arms around his waist, her dull eyes staring up at him with her best imitation of love.

"Have you been leaving the nymphs alone?"

The corner of her mouth twitched.

"...yes, though I have no idea why you order it, my lord. Those beasts want to be fucked. I don't think they—"

"I didn't ask you what you

think

."

Salurra swallowed, and Caligula chuckled. Ah, a genuine emotion, fear. He put a hand under Salurra's chin and she shivered.

"If you don't know where she is," he whispered. "Get out of my sight."

He released her roughly, and turned toward the bath. "

Where is Etaceh

? This is her valley! I need a locator spell!"

"I can perform a locator spell, my lord."

"You can perform a

weak

locator spell. If I wanted that, I could do so myself."

Salurra's fist clenched as she watched Caligula rage on and on about a stupid human girl. Her blood boiled as she thought of how the girl bested her. She had attacked her in a cowardly manner and had gotten the best of her. The human was rarely alone, she was protected, and it infuriated her that she could not sink her fingers into the pretty girl's face. To make her feel the pain she had felt on the inside when Caligula...

"I can find her," she snapped. "I can bring her back to you!"

She ran in front of Caligula. His eyes were unkind, but she pushed her fear back.

"My lord, she defies you because of your mercy towards her. She has been coddled by your kindness. She believes she is powerful."

Salurra put a hand to her chest and smiled. "Let me show the girl. Let me put her in her place. And then...she will not

dare

defy you my lord."

Caligula said nothing for a minute or two, letting Salurra sweat, before a smile broke out onto his lips. "I knew there was a reason I cared for you."

Salurra's heart skipped a beat and she beamed with a smile that never quite hit her eyes. "I will go right away my lord."

She tossed her brown robe behind her and headed towards her chamber.

"Oh, Salurra?"

"Yes my lord?"

Salurra gasped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Caligula's violet eyes glowed ominously. "Do not fail me."

Salurra nodded. "Y-Yes my lord."

She strode away, determined to prove her worth. Caligula would mate with her, he would be hers, and under his care she would be the most powerful witch in the North Realm. And for kicks, she'd torture the nymph Mother Tree until the nymphs begged for her with their legs spread wide, kissing her feet. Then after that...well, there would be no use for Etaceh, or the human. She would paint her nails with their blood.

-

"What's your name, little girl?"

Nima blinked owlishly at the tall man before her. The more she looked at him, the more uneasy she became. But she couldn't show fear. Both Momma and Auntie had taught her to always show a brave face.

"I am Nima, daughter of the Rovian Chieftess Kyzu, niece to the Rovian Lead Huntress Zyra, and heir to the Chiefdom of the Rovian forest tribe."

The man smiled. "What a long name for a girl so small." He patted her head and she jumped. "And pretty too," he added. "You must have a lovely mother. And...your aunt. What did you say her name was again?"

"Zyra."

"Heh. I see."

Nima swallowed, and took a step back. "I have to go back to the village now. Paj will be looking for me."

"I understand," he said warmly. "Go ahead."

Nima took a few more steps, before asking, "Did you see Rell on your way here?"

The man shook his head. "No, I didn't see her. But if I do, I'll let you know...Nima."

Nima opened her mouth to correct him, but she could hear her Auntie's voice spitting,

"Think before you speak."

She walked, thinking about why a fellow Ursie wouldn't know the name of an Ursie heir.

How could...

A sick feeling settled at the bottom of her stomach. This man wasn't an Ursie. He was a stranger. And Paj should have found her by now. Nima took one look at the stranger, and ran.

Creedon laughed, as the little piece of girl darted away. From behind he could hear the sullen shuffling of paws.

"CoCree."

The Nightlock's shoulders were slumped as she stood beside him.

"Bring her to the cave. And kill anyone who tries to stop you."

The Nightlock winced like she wished to resist, but her haunches buckled and she sprung into the forest.

Creedon shook his head. Foolish thing.

"Now, where were we?"

Creedon walked back to the circle of flowers. The female huntress' lay unconscious, serene against the grass and flowers. Creedon sat beside her and pulled her in his lap. She stirred briefly, her eyes fluttering in confusion.

"Hello darling."

Before she could move he lifted her head up and pressed his lips to hers, pushing his tongue into her mouth, kissing her deeply. She woke from her paralysis and struggled against him in a panic, but he held her, amused by her vain attempts. Her struggles grew weaker and weaker, until she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

Three-thousand, nine hundred and fifty-two years old, and he still had it.

He pulled her closer and heard a little girl scream.

One down, several more to go.

-

"Lies. Simpleton lies," Medean spat. "That is impossible."

"It is not a lie," Mourabet shouted, jumping to her feet. "You witches are the only ones who are comfortable with lying!"

Medean stood. "You're a slanderer!"

"You're a hypocrite! You of all of us should know your own history!"

"Oh, my own history?"

"Yes! Of lies, and deceit—"

"Wow, wow!" Zyra put her hands between the two parties, shocked that things had escalated so quickly.

"Let's just calm down. Everyone calm down. Okay? Why is this so important?"

"Ask the

witch

!"

Medean's jaw clenched and he avoided her gaze.

"Medean?"

She watched him sink behind his mask of politeness, before taking a seat.

"Forgive me, Mistress. Mourabet, I shall leave my comments until the end. Please, continue your

story

."

"I shall continue my account," she growled, her fangs protruding threateningly. "And I will provide you with a tale so vulgar, so bereft of decency and morals, that you will not doubt its authenticity."

"Yes, what a tall tale indeed."

"

You

..."

"Am I to endure this bickering much longer?" Zyra snapped. "Or will the parties who both claim to outrank me in years and maturity, start acting their age?"

"Why Mistress, how you've grown in our brief time here. The dishes you've thrown at me would be proud."

"As

proud

as..." Zyra took a breath. She would not be baited to sate Medean's passive aggressiveness. "Mourabet. Please continue."

"Huh, maybe you are a keromedio," River chuckled.

"You mediated that pretty well."

"As I said, Creedon was one of the Three," Mourabet continued. "And he was the most powerful, but Creedon had a weakness that is intolerable in a witch." She glared at Medean.

"He was a romantic. He forgot his place in our world."

Zyra raised an eyebrow and looked to Medean. How did that apply to him?

"Creedon ventured out into your world, the world of humans, and fell in love with a human woman. With the aid of magic the woman became pregnant with a son, but the woman died, leaving Creedon with a child that was neither human nor witch. Creedon had a choice, a difficult one. He could leave his son with the humans, most likely to never see him again, or, he could keep him."

"Why was this so difficult?" Zyra asked. "Surely with all his power he could raise one child."

"Witches do not have children," Medean said. "We have no need to mate. Witches are made, not born. A born witch...well, it would be a monstrosity, according to the law. Even a half-one."

"So to care for him...was to sentence him to death?"

"Yes." Mourabet sighed. "I know not how Creedon raised him for those first few years. It must have been incredibly hard, and there are not many places to hide a newborn in the uncivilized lands. When he grew older, he pushed back his memories. Valor forgot his father, his childhood, and was placed where he would be cared for. Creedon watched over him, and when the time was right, he revealed Valor's location, and he made him keromedio."

"And he didn't tell him?" Zyra asked. "Valor didn't know?"

"No," Mourabet said miserably. "Valor didn't know."

She stopped talking, her body tightening as though she could hold her emotions in if she squeezed. River touched her shoulder and whispered a few words to her. Mourabet nodded.

River leaned in, the newly appointed storyteller of this tale. "Valor was summoned by the witches for what would be a long adventure. He was gone for many months the first time. He was tired, but glad to see us. The second time he was gone for a year. Valor returned to us changed. He became a recluse, straying no more than 15 feet from his cave. He did not return to the village. We went to visit him, and he played with me, but his eyes were sad when he watched me. I can never forget them."

River looked to see how Mourabet fared. She had crossed her arms, holding herself.

"During this time, the village got word of a feud between the witches. To this day we do not know the exact cause, but we've no doubt that Valor's deterioration played a part. But—"

"River..."

The listeners turned to the ogress. Mourabet

appeared to have called on some reserve of strength.

"I will make this brief keromedio," she said stiffly. "Then I must ask you to leave."

"Mourabet!"

"No, River I am serious. I have already tampered with a keromedio," she looked at Zyra. "They have taken everything from me."

Zyra didn't know what to say. Medean didn't speak. She felt the urge to reach out for his hand, to hold it, to know that things would be alright. For him to say that she had heard enough.

He didn't say a word, and she couldn't ask him to. She needed to know what happened to him, and what any of this had to do with Kail.

"We'll leave," Zyra said.

"And never return."

"

Mourabet

."

"And never return."

Mourabet nodded. "Valor was sent on one final mission. The Three had quelled their squabble, and he was to complete this task and be free of them for the duration of his life. Kanusha passed soon after Valor came from the second mission. He could never fully recover, and refused magical aid. It was as though he waited for his sons to all be together to leave this world. Valor left us for eight long months. What we did not know was that two of the Three had plotted against Creedon. This mission was not for the benefit of the valley, it was to obtain an item that would stop Creedon. Permanently."

"But, his own son—"

"Yes," Mourabet said. "They used his own son. Valor completed the task, and then went on a separate mission, not knowing the witch's purpose. When he returned, the witches had Creedon in a seal. Creedon understood what they were doing, and knew the only way to break the spell was to kill the bearer of the magic totem. He could not kill his own son. In his last moments, he removed the block from Valor's mind, and showed him who he was. Creedon's memories of his son flooded into him, and while Valor was distracted, the witches sealed Creedon into The Void."

Zyra's stomach churned as she thought of the horror revealed to her. "What is the Void?"

"It is a barrier of pure magic." Medean answered, his face grave. "The border that separates the magic of the valley from spilling out into your human world. It is toxic to all life, and spreads if not contained. No force, human or not can survive being thrust into such a thing. Nor could they bear to touch it without being tainted from the inside out."

"Yes," Mourabet said. "And Valor touched The Void. He tried to save Creedon. The witches pulled him back, but he had already touched it. Valor was as dead as Creedon, and Creedon knew this. As he sunk into nothingness, Creedon swore he would return and wreak his vengeance. The witches left Valor to us, broken and mad. He lived in the cave, living off of...insects, and dirt. His mind was too gone, and the trees outside his cave withered and died. We tried to feed him and he refused. Kail mixed every kind of elixir Valor had taught him, and while some eased his pain, he could not be cured. He had moments of lucidity, when I spoke with him, and he cried to me. But we knew we were losing him. We knew he was gone."

Zyra held her head, a migraine coming on. So, this was the fate of a loyal keromedio.

"So then, Kail killed him as a mercy?"

"No," Mourabet snapped. "Then Caligula came, summoning the broken boy for one last task. Valor snapped beyond repair. He grew violent, he tried..."

She coughed, clearing he throat. "He tried to rape me," she said softly. "Kail wrestled him off and they both fell into the cave. There was a terrible noise, then silence. Only Kail came out. The witches came, saw Valor's body, and took him and Kail away. I have not seen him since. That was two years ago, two years before you came here."

Mourabet stood and Zyra looked at Meela, who had been silent the entire time. The old woman was crying. Zyra had enough.

"Thank you." Zyra stood, her heart breaking for this broken family. "I won't return."

She bent to the old woman and wiped her tears. Zyra pressed a soft kiss on a wrinkled warm cheek, and she gave a small smile when Meela ran a hand through her hair.

"Safe. Be safe."

"Thank you."

"Thank

you

."

Zyra went to River and stuck out a hand. "River."

He looked at her strangely, and then took her hand. She stretched out the other and he grabbed it. Then she gave him a Rovian shake of farewell.

"Take care of your family, and should you ever need me, I will aid you."

Two red splotches appeared on River's face and Zyra raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, well. Thanks," he grumbled, pulling his hands away.

Zyra turned to Mourabet. "Mourabet, I—"

"I hope you don't misunderstand," she interjected. "We will not be asking you for help."

Zyra nodded. Mourabet reminded her of a certain stubborn huntress who had been too blind to see reason. Brave, virtuous, and foolish to a fault.

"I offer my condolences. May we never meet again. Let's go Medean."

Medean bowed to the Shashanen, and they headed back to the square.

"Keromedio!"

Zyra turned. "Yes?"

"Kail is not a hero," Mourabet shouted. "Don't think that what Kail did was noble. Valor was in pain, but the pain that Kail could not bear was his own.

He

could not bear Valor's condition. He was not killed only because he was the best blacksmith in our village and the witches depend on us for the tools of their trade. Make no mistake...Zyra. Kail is a coward. He gave up on his brother and fiancée. And I do not think you are here because you wish to be. Kail gave up on you too, didn't he?"

Zyra ground her teeth, her heart clenching.

"Goodbye Mourabet."

"You know it's true!"

"The centaurs are waiting on us, Mistress."

"He's a coward!"

"..."

"A coward!"

"Mistress?"

"I

know

Medean...I know."

-

"Where is my daughter?"

Kyzu had just finished mediating between yet another huntress dispute. Since Zyra's absence there had been a shift in power. Some did not side with Zyra's decision, specifically Imjah, who had a few huntresses in her corner as well. Rair did not argue, she simply performed her job and ignored Imjah. This only served to further infuriate the woman.

No matter, Kyzu was done and wanted to feed her child lunch.

"She has gone out to the flower meadow with Paj," a young woman said, handing her water.

"Thank you." Kyzu sighed. "Have someone send for them. Have you heard any word about the ogre?"

"Yes my Chieftess. He has not been spotted since Zyra's departure."

"I see." Kyzu rubbed her temples. This should have been something good, something she should be relieved to no longer carry, but it unnerved her. Kail and Henna's disappearance did not bode well. She doubted the two were together, but she did not want Zyra to return and find Kail absent. She owed her sister that much.

"Make sure the huntresses know they are still to look for the ogre. I want him and Henna found."

"Yes my Chieftess."

Kyzu watched the woman scamper off and groaned. Just the sight of her was irritating. She wouldn't need her assistance if Zyra was around. What a horrid time this was becoming.

"Oh sister, when will you return?"

-

"LET ME GO! NO! NO!"

"Silence you little brat. No one can hear you. The master wants you."

"MOMMY! MOMMY!"

"Ah! That's

it

!"

Henna tore off a piece of her cloak. The girl was tied up and she still screamed. Glaring, she made a gag and sealed up Nima's mouth.

"Maker I wish you were still mute."

Henna glared at the Nightlock in the corner. The beast hadn't given her any warning. If she knew that the little heir was on her way, she would have hidden her face. It was too late now.

Nima struggled, kicking up the dust on the cave floor, but she didn't cry. Henna was glad. Tears irritated her.

"You. Nightlock," Henna snapped. "Watch her. I'm going to find the Master. Unlike you, I can't be summoned mentally. Our dalliances are much more...intimate."

Smirking, she walked past the slumped Nightlock who eyed her with disgust. It made Henna uneasy. It was like it...no. No matter what it was like, it was a simple beast now.

Nima watched as Henna walked off. Shaking, she turned to the huge Nemlock. It looked at her moodily. She had never seen a Nemlock, let alone a Nightlock before, but she had heard stories of giant midnight beasts with razor sharp teeth, and purple blood. For some reason, this one didn't seem that feral. It had grabbed her by her dress with its teeth, and ran with her so fast her feet didn't touch the ground, but it had placed her down unharmed.

Now it just...seemed depressed.

Nima wriggled her mouth until the gag settled underneath her chin. She huffed, the massive beast eyeing her.

"You don't want to be here either, do you?"

The Nightlock lifted its head and gave her a look that said, 'What do you think?'

Nima sat up, trying to wriggle out the arm bindings. She strained and strained until she felt might hurt herself and gave up. They were just too tight. Henna was a huntress after all.

"Don't worry," she said to the Nightlock. "My Mommy will come for me, and then Henna and that man will be in big trouble."

The Nightlock snorted.

"Hey! Don't laugh, I'm serious! And when they do, you can come with us. My Auntie Zyra is the keromedio—"