Daughter of the Witch Wood Pt. 12

Author's note: this chapter is one of a series, and does not contain erotic elements.

-rb

12.

The Battle of the Basin

A sister.

Min had a sister.

And she was that twisted, evil witch.

As Erden and Ilay stepped forward to stop San's attack, Min grit her teeth and pushed up to her knees. She grabbed the elbow of one of the twins—which one, she hadn't a clue. But they both turned to look at her, just as she'd hoped.

"You both can...sense the infection inside me, can't you?" she asked, fighting to talk through her pained breathing.

They nodded in time together.

Ilay had picked up one of the discarded saplings and was swinging it like a cudgel at San, moving with spry, quick steps for one of her age. San was younger, faster, and she bobbed and weaved without much difficulty. Fire jumped from her hands, forcing the older witch to dodge as well, but it was obvious Ilay wasn't as fast as San, regardless of vuk making her stronger and faster than any normal human should be. Meanwhile, Erden hung back, trying to stay between Min and San, as though protecting one from the other. But the battle wasn't going to be won through defensive actions...or was there some other reason she hung back?

"If you sensed it in someone else, could you heal it?" Min asked, turning back to the twins again.

The girls looked at one another, then nodded again.

"Good." Min grabbed their wrists in both her hands; they looked surprised, but helped her to stand. A plan—frantic, desperate—had taken root in Min's mind, but it was all she had. Otherwise, San would tire the older women out, burn them to death, then take their time on the younger women next. "When I say, I need you to blind her again, even brighter and stronger than before. Be ready."

Their fear was almost palpable—on their faces, in their bright eyes—but the twins nodded again.

Min's head was throbbing and her body hurt in a dozen ways, but not in one particular place. She forced herself to walk forward, leaning from tree to tree. By now the air was an inferno—it hurt to breathe, but Min forced herself to keep going, to not look away from the struggle ahead of her. She reached her mother, putting a hand on Erden's shoulder for balance.

It was obvious that her grandmother's strength was failing. Ilay's face was a mask of concentration. Her earlier weapon was broken or had been thrown away, and now the old witch was forced to go hand-to-hand with the younger woman, but she was already burned in places, her fair skin singed or blackened, streaked with dirt and ash.

"San!" Min shouted.

"I'll kill you after I kill this one first," San said, not looking away. But Min's shout broke her concentration—when Ilay lashed out with a bare foot, San spun away, going back with the unnecessary flair of a backflip before landing on both feet, still grinning like a cat over a cornered rat.

"Now!" Min shouted, and both Asra and Arke obeyed: rou's light, even more blinding and powerful than the first time, filled the little clearing and swallowed up the witch with her green flames, like sealing her up in a bubble of unbreakable light.

There wasn't time for pain or discomfort. Min ignored her mother's sound of surprise, pushing past her to grab Ilay's arm and yank her back. "Can you break this?" Min said, gesturing to the swirling marks on her injured shoulder.

Ilay, still reeling from her fight, breathing heavy, seemed dazed but she quickly understood Min's meaning. "I don't think—"

"Do it," Min said, squeezing the other woman's arm tight. Looking displeased, but obviously in pain and with no time to argue, Ilay pressed her hand hard into Min's flesh; Min felt a tingling, a rush of needles creeping across her skin from fingertips to neck, and then...nothing. The pain in her head, her body, the aches and discomfort of being tossed about, all of it vanished.

"Take the twins, find Sergen and the Chief," Min said next, pushing her grandmother toward the twins. "The bears are tainted somehow; those two can cleanse it."

"No!" San screamed with anger from within her blinding prison. A column of green flame soared into the dark sky, and again the healing light disappeared. But it was too late: Ilay had the twin girls in either hand, and was running so fast back in the direction of the falls that they were out of sight in moments.

Min sized up the other woman in a second: they were of similar height, which wasn't much to speak of; Min was heavier, rounder in both bust and hips, which meant more for San to grab hold of, but it also meant in terms of pure physical strength, Min had the upper hand. San was angry, furious even, at her kill being stolen, but Min was now under the full sway of the corruptive power swimming in her veins. She couldn't feel a thing, like her body was a lump of solid flesh. The only thing keeping her breathing was instinct.

"I'm going to kill you for that," San said. The flames in her hands had gone out, but it would likely only take a thought and a word to bring them back.

Min pushed her mother behind her—she was the protector now. "You want this one? You really will have to kill me for that."

"Oh?" San tilted her head, looking at Erden for a long moment. Min would have called her look contemplative, as though observing a creature she'd never seen before. "Hello, Mother... That is what I should call you, isn't it?"

Erden hid her face, resting against Min's shoulder; she moaned, such a low and mournful sound that, any other time, might've broken Min's heart.

San looked at Min, pursing her lips. "Who are you?"

"Yasemin." Min swallowed; her voice sounded thick, like her throat hurt. But she didn't feel any pain. "She's my mother." She swallowed again. The air was thick with smoke—it was hard to see, hard to breathe. "I won't let you touch—"

San threw one of her tiny fists forward, catching Min in the belly beneath her breasts. The force of the blow was hard enough to send both her and Erden sprawling, rolling through the ash and dying grasses. Min caught herself on hands and knees and was up fast, faster than she thought was possible, and it was still almost too slow: San was on her again, hands aflame, green eyes so bright they were almost blinding.

Min couldn't feel aku's power, but it was there, and now there was no pain, no struggling, no pressure. She drew it in like a drowning man drinking in water, filling her belly and lungs until she was about to burst. She could sense San's power, a crackling flame of emerald filth that Min knew was wicked and foul, but now it couldn't burn her. She tried to snuff it out, the same as the attacking bears, but that fire couldn't be quenched so easily.

San spat right in Min's face. "I can feel you in my head—do you think it'll be that easy to save yourself?"

When San tried to hit her again, Min pushed the hand away and got in a blow herself, catching the other witch hard across the face, sending her spinning away; the other woman would've fallen if she hadn't caught herself on a nearby tree.

"I don't need to save myself," Min said. "You won't hurt my mother!" She screamed, leapt on San, driving her to the ground.

What happened next was a violent, rabid brawl of fists, clawing fingers, kicking, scratching, and other viciousness. San's deep magic was too strong, too set in for Min to smother it, but San couldn't use that magic if Min didn't give her an opening. And now Min's corruption was unleashed—she was an unfeeling, unstoppable machine of flesh and sinew, aware that her heart was pounding, that her bare chest was heaving with every breath, but beyond that Min felt nothing at all.

As she smashed her sister's head in the dirt, she felt nothing. When San's nails left bloody furrows on Min's face, she felt nothing. When San pulled out some of Min's hair, scorching her scalp, she felt nothing. Slapping San hard enough to knock a tooth loose earned her a wild scrape on her palm and bloody knuckles...or she just noticed the knuckles when she had both hands wrapped around her sister's throat, pushing her down hard into the dirt as fire burned over them and ash rained down on their heads.

San flailed at Min's hands with hers, the green fire sputtering before it went out. Then she scratched and pulled at Min's hands with just her pitiful, feeble strength, her mouth opening and closing, gasping for air before she stopped moving entirely.

Min stared down into San's face—so very much like hers—and felt nothing at all.

"Yasemin! Stop!" Erden was suddenly there, grabbing at Min's wrists, her hands next to San's; their skin looked so similar, like mirrored images of each other. Her voice was heaving, sobbing, so different from its usual beauty, the softness Min knew and loved so well. "Don't kill her! Please don't kill your sister!"

That one word, to hear it from her mother's mouth, broke through the red fog that had swallowed Min—she fell onto her backside, watching with a sort of numb, detached attention as she saw Erden check that San was alive, swiping a hand across the other woman's neck, leaning in close to hear that she was breathing. Erden curled one of her daughter's—San's—arms around her neck, then pulled her unconscious body over one shoulder before standing up. "Hurry!" she said, barking the word through a sore throat.

Min didn't move. She just sat and watched her mother hurry away. Not until Erden turned around and shouted "Yasemin!" did Min stumble to her feet and follow, putting one numb foot in front of the other, forcing herself to walk.

The Witch Woods were burning. Fire leapt into the sky, which by that time had turned dark—either from the hour or smoke, Min didn't know which anymore. She couldn't see stars, or even the moon. There was nothing but darkness as far as she could see in every direction.

They walked—for how long, Min didn't know. But it was easier to breathe when they reached the edge of the river. Erden set San's body down on a patch of soft grass, then hurried back to take Min by the arm.

"This is going to hurt," Erden warned.

Min started to open her mouth to argue, but then her mother's black eyes were boring into her, her fingers were digging into Min's arm deep enough to bruise, and the feeling of something, some power that was both familiar and foreign at the same time filled her up.

Min's sense of touch, of feeling, came back like a thousand needles driving into her flesh, her naked body, over her in the same instant. Min's mouth opened, but she couldn't speak, couldn't breathe; the air still tasted like smoke, but at least she could taste it again. She looked up, finding herself on hands and knees, with her mother's arms wrapped tight around her. Tears were sliding down her ash-stained cheeks; she licked her lips, could feel her lips, and tasted blood. Her tan arm and shoulder were covered in a fresh tattoo surrounding that cold center, but where Ilay's design had been a swirling, coiled design, Erden's was thin, slender lines following her veins, spreading out from that numb patch of flesh like trails off an ink blot.

"Why...didn't...you tell me?"

Erden looked down at Min, stroked her face, pushed her dark hair back. "When I fled the tribe...I ran, ran as far as I could, covered my tracks, did whatever I could do to get away." Erden looked down at San, touching her cheek as well; she bit her lip for a moment, reliving an old pain. The look on her face made Min want to start crying.

"But...when Ozan found me again," she continued, her voice going dark, "you both were cubs, only days-old—it's obvious to me now that he had my scent, likely stalked me for weeks, maybe longer. He threatened to kill me if I didn't give one of you to him." Fresh tears slid her cheeks. "I...I h-had to make a choice."

"And you chose me," Min said.

Erden nodded, shedding silent tears. "H-her name..." She looked down at San again. "I named her Busan. Deciding between the two of you...it was a blind choice, and it nearly killed me. I hated it. I hated myself for years after it. I've hated him for your entire lifetime, and I am so tired of Ozan's memory haunting me at every single step."

The sound of a howl stopped Erden from any further explanation—it was loud and long, and somehow it just sounded wrong to Min's ears. Her mother's head snapped up, looking upriver, towards the Basin. "He's here," she said, her jaw set, teeth clenched. Erden stood, draping San's body over her shoulder again. Then Erden started running, arms tucked tight around the sleeping body over her shoulder, while Min followed.

Min wondered how the fight against the bears was going, if Sergen was still alive. There wasn't time to feel fear or worry that he might be dead—Min refused to think about it, so that meant he was still alive. He had to be. The alternative was too terrible to consider.

I'm coming, Sergen! she thought, trying to reach out to him, willing him to hear her.

They ran along the river, the fire still burning all around them. Min understood why the sky had gone black when she heard the rumbling of thunder overhead—another storm was coming. The scene before the Basin was one of death and madness. Bodies were strewn about or torn to pieces: bears, wolves, men and women alike. It was impossible to see who'd won the battle, but most of the beast-men were transformed by that time, and the fact that she saw more wolves than bears made Min breathe a little easier.

But two figures caught her eye above all others: a huge, black-furred giant of a wolf-man squaring off against a shorter but stockier silver-furred beast of the same kind. Both combatants were bloodied and injured. The black one had a long scar across his face—he was missing an ear, and one of his eyes on the same side was gone, but those scars looked old. His shorter opponent—Erkin, she guessed—seemed more hurt, more troubled by his injuries, which were numerous: the blood that soaked both fur and flesh was dark and left a trickling stain on the grass and stones at his feet.

Just as the black one was rushing forward to cut his enemy down, Erden dropped San roughly to her feet, pinned her arms behind her back and slapped one hand over the smaller woman's mouth. San's face was dazed, her eyes unfocused and blinking out of sync.

"Ozan!" Erden shouted the word loud enough that anyone within sight of the falls—and plenty that weren't, most likely—could hear it. Min's ears were ringing, and she saw her sister's eyes pop open in surprise and sudden fear.

The two wolf-men paused their battle, and every head and pair of eyes turned to look at the witch, her face an angry mask, her dark eyes blazing. Min saw some familiar faces—Ilay, the young twins—and even though they were transformed, she recognized the shapes of Sait and Sergen, as well. Her mate was alive; Min only had time to feel a deep rush of relief, and then her mother was speaking again.

"You've got nerve, showing your ugly face in this part of the Woods ever again," Erden said. Thunder crowed from behind the dark clouds, while ash blown on a strong wind fluttered and snowed down around them. No one moved.

Ozan's transformation from the neck up looked especially painful to Min's eyes as she watched. When it was done, the human face left behind showed some remnant of rugged handsomeness, enough that she could see why her mother might have fallen for him, but the scarred side of his head marred it: from brow to chin he was maimed, beyond any attempt at healing, magical or otherwise. His one good eye shone a bright, eerie green. A scar might make some men seem handsome, but Ozan was ugly both inside and out.

"My love!" Ozan said, giving her a twisted attempt at a smile. "How long has it been?"

"Not long enough." Erden's voice was hard, but Min heard a tremor in it, like she might shatter at any moment.

Mother, what are you doing? Min asked.

What I should have done a long time ago, Erden answered. Don't interrupt. "I have Busan," she said aloud. "If you want to live, take any of bear-men that are following you and go."

San's eyes went wide. She started writhing and wriggling in Erden's arms, squealing and complaining from behind the impromptu gag she'd been given. Min watched her mother's eyes narrow and she squeezed that hand tighter and tighter until San ceased her struggles.

"Bold of you, thinking you can order around an entire tribe that way," Ozan said. He didn't sound winded or troubled by his injuries. "But then, I suppose I was a good tutor in that regard."

"You were nothing but a disappointment—to everyone," Erden said. "You ruined my life, and plenty of others."

"All for a good cause," Ozan said with a sniff.

He'll try something, Erden's voice whispered in Min's head. Be ready. "There's nothing good left in you anymore. I don't know if there ever was."

"Perhaps not." Ozan shrugged. "But now I have you to thank, at least."

Erden frowned, a suspicious look on her face. "For what?"

"For this." Ozan came up in a blur of black fur and flashing claws, slashing his hand at Erkin's unprotected throat. There was a sound of tearing meat and a cry of pain as Ozan's blow struck.

"No!" Ilay's scream of horror pierced the air, followed by the sound of wild howling and a concussive blast of thunder as lightning streaked across the black sky. Erkin fell to his knees and then onto his stomach on the mossy stones, blood spreading out before him where it trickled into a pool.

Rain began to fall in a torrent. The skies opened, and the world flashed in shades of black and grey.

Chaos fell over them. The battle, which before had frozen to a standstill, erupted into new life again as bears and wolves fought one another. The bears were outnumbered, but they were larger than their enemies and it took multiple wolves to bring combat just one bear.

San wriggled out of her mother's grasp and tried to run. Min tackled her from behind, and they went rolling into the dirt like before, but San obviously didn't intend to be taken again: she slithered and wriggled out of Min's grasping hands, running for the trees and jumping into the swift-moving river, letting it carry her away.

Both Sait and Sergen leapt towards Ozan, who slapped their strikes away with ease—Sait went back with a kick to the neck, sputtering and gasping for air, while Ozan flipped Sergen over one shoulder, throwing him into the pool.

"Sergen!" Min reached out, wanting to run to his aid, but then her father leapt towards Erden, hands outstretched, scarred face twisted into a wide, wild grin.

Min was ready for him. Auk's power rattled in her head and pounded the inside of her skull like the thunder over their heads, but a hand against her temple helped to even the pressure. As her father rushed towards them, she stepped in front of her mother, and swept an arm towards him. A stone large enough to crush all three of them, twice her height, gave a grinding crunch as it thrust out of the black earth, blocking his path. Ozan jumped to the top of the barrier, but before he could leap down towards them, Min touched his mind with hers.

Some of the things she found in her father's psyche would haunt Min until her dying breath—thoughts, desires, the things he'd done in his lust for power, until she wanted weep a river of blood to drown them out of her memory. But in her frantic searching, she found the bond between human and beast and slammed the door between them.

The black beast-man's body shattered and reformed in real-time, but he never made a sound. Ozan's one green eye stared down at Min as he crouched on his perch, his body shrinking and shifting until the human body remained. He jumped down, landing on his feet, a sneer on his lips. "Impressive trick," he said. "What else have you got?"