Samhain Night

Author's Note: Just a quick tale I wrote for Halloween.

Night of the Witch

A ring of turnips surrounded the isolated hut. From within the grotesque faces carved on them, flames flickered in strange patterns upon the darkness of the forest. Out amid the trees that groaned, the haunting cries of the dead echoed. Standing before her hut in the middle of a ring of stones and the jack-o-lanterns, Ravyn narrowed her eyes out to the surrounding woods. In one hand she held a candle, the wax dribbling down the sides, until it stung her fingers. Even then she didn't move, but watched.

Above the last vestiges of day faded into night. The dark blue finally giving way to the black sky glittering with thousands of stars, while the moon started its ascent. A crescent with a faint glow that bathed the thatch roof of Ravyn's home, as well as the gardens and grass within the circle of turnips and stones painted with ancient wards. The soft light though could not pierce the forest's canopy, leaving it engulfed in thick shadow.

Even still figures moved within, scarcely seen. They seemed as shadows even within the shadows. Ravyn took a long breath and reached across herself to run fingertips across the hilt of her sword. The rounded pommel etched with tiny runes was comforting as she waited to see the dead test her wards and the repelling power of the jack-o-lanterns. As she did every Samhain.

A dead man stepped out from the woodline. He carried the stench of decay with him, though even the light of the jack-o-lanterns and the moonlight could not dispel the pitch black of his form. It hid any true details, save the silver eyes that stared across the line of carved turnips and planted stones.

"Be gone draugr. This is no longer your realm to walk," Ravyn said, and let her fingers curl around the hilt of her sword. She stared down the dead thing standing but five paces from her.

The draugr hissed, a faint movement the only show its mouth was opened. Thick smoke poured out, curling around its head. Slowly the creature turned to shamble back out into the woods. For a moment Ravyn watched it walk away. Only visible as the pit of life it had become in death. And tonight the veil between the realms was weak. That which had no right to be upon the world anymore broke back into the realm of the living through its hatred and bitterness.

But the draugr were the least of all spirits that could be out tonight.

Letting out a low breath, Ravyn relaxed her grip on her sword and turned back towards her hut. More jack-o-lanterns were nestled carefully on her window sills. They glared at her with their macabre sneers as she pushed open her door and stepped within the dim light of her home.

A cozy fire in the hearth kept the autumn chill at bay, while the soft snap and crackle of the burning wood gave a calming distraction from the haunting cries from outside. Its light wavered across the single room of Ravyn's home as she walked to the small table in the centre of the hut. A small mouse sat upon its surface beside a brass candle holder. The tiny creature nibbled at some of the crumbs from Ravyn's dinner, turning the little piece of bread over and over in its paws as it ate.

The mouse didn't even pause as Ravyn slid the candle into the brass holder. She looked down at the creature, before gently stroking the top of its head. The mouse let out a tiny squeak and went back to rolling over the crumb and nibbling as Ravyn walked over to her bed. Broad, meant for partners. Though it was far too rare any came out here.

Walking past her bookshelf of collected tomes, and a few of her own grimoires, Ravyn scraped dried wax off her finger. The little chips of it fell off her skin and pattered on the floor, the near silent sound lost amid the wails from outside.

Unstrapping her belt with the lace sarong that hung off her hips, Ravyn sighed as the weight of her sword came free as well. Carefully she laid it on the side of the bed, sword and its dark leather scabbard capped with silver that swirled upwards in twisted vines laying on top. Outside the dead continued to cry out, lost amid the woods, seeking anyone to join their damnation. Ravyn doubted she'd sleep tonight, even as she pulled the lace shawl from her shoulders and draped it at the foot of the bed.

Crawling atop her plush bed, the skin tight black leather of her pants sliding across the thick quilt, she rolled over and sighed. Didn't even bother to take off her riding boots, the tall heels pressed against the foot board. For a moment she just stared at the beams of her ceiling, and breathed deep to calm herself. She inhaled the wonderful smell of burning wood, while her breasts pressed against the leather of her corset as she took in another slow breath.

Black hair sprawled across her soft pillows she focused on her breathing. Outside the dead and other spirits continued their clamour in the dark. The sounds sinking into Ravyn's calm, and she didn't dare shut them out entirely. If any wards failed, if any spirits slipped past the jack-o-lanterns, she needed to be ready.

Then she heard the pitch change outside. Hunger, malice. A frenzy of damned souls singing out a cacophony. Ravyn shot up in bed and pulled her shawl back on. She stared at the shuttered window as she picked up her belt with its sarong, and pulled it back on. The weight of the sword, and the pouches of dried herbs, comforting once more.

After a moment the chaos died down, but something didn't feel right.

Then a man's voice called out to her from her yard. A voice she recognized.

"Ravyn. Ravyn are you in there," he shouted, the voice getting louder as he got closer to the hut, and the witch sighed.

One hand gripping the hilt of her sword, she walked to her door and pushed it open. Just a few steps away stood a man she not only didn't expect to see, but certainly didn't want to. Antoine; one of the village's carpenters, and also the man who married the woman she loved. Had made that woman love him in turn. Taken her from Ravyn's arms, and left her alone out here in the woods.

"Here to finally kill me Antoine?" the witch asked, looking at the axe in Antoine's hand. Black blood dripped from the blade, even as he stared at her from behind long bangs of dishevelled hair. There was fear in his eyes, jack-o-lanterns hanging from his belt. The candle in one extinguished while the other flickered still.

"I come to beg of you. For your help," he said and fell to his knees. The axe hit the ground with a thump as he clutched his hands together. He stared up at her, his hands lifted before his face as he shambled forward on his knees.

"Marion made her choice. Neither of you have darkened my doorstep for many years, and I am made pariah by those I protect for my craft and my rejected love. Why should I help you?" Ravyn demanded as Antoine came closer. She could see the tears now that cut grooves in the blood of the damned spattered on his face.

"Please. Please, something has taken her. It's... inside her," Antoine said, clutching at Ravyn's boots. Muddy and blood slick fingers slid over the black leather, his lips coming close to it. The man reeked of desperation. Ravyn pulled her foot away, frowning down at him as he fell onto his face.

"I've seen your home. You have ignored my warnings, refused my wards, and only now do I see jack-o-lanterns in your possession. Why should I help you, when you and Marion have done all you can to cut me out. Even your priest has listened to me," Ravyn said, tempted to pull her sword free. "Why not go to your church. Ask them for help?"

For a moment Antoine sobbed into the dirt. His shoulder wracked with the cries that tore from him. He spoke, but whatever words he said were lost amid the sobs, and heaving gasps for air. He reached out again, fingertips once again clawing at her boots. Streaks of blood and mud dragged across the leather. This time Ravyn didn't pull away, as pity began to worm through her bitterness and hate. Eventually Antoine looked up at her.

"You know. You know that the church is more concerned about killing the demon within. The life of the possessed is secondary, and that's for a kind exorcist," Antoine said, and Ravyn sighed. Of course he was right. And she had no desire to have exorcists and witch hunters running about these woods in some misguided crusade against darkness.

They all pretended to understand it, but they didn't. There was no pity in their light.

Then Antoine spoke again.

"I... know you still care for her. And she for you. Please. Help us."

His words cut at Ravyn's heart. Opening old wounds she thought were nothing but scars now. She almost kicked him, screamed at him, but knew he was right all the same. At least, when it came to herself. She closed her eyes, the hungry moans of the dead and the damned filling her ears, mixing with the wet sniffling of the man at her feet. For him to rush all the way out here on Samhain, he must have been incredibly desperate. To come to her.

A sigh spilled out from her lips and she rubbed at her face a moment.

"Very well. Let me grab what I need. And light that other damn jack-o-lantern," she said and pulled her foot away again. She turned to head back into her home, not bothering with the door even as she wondered why she even agreed to this. On top of helping people who had hurt her, cut her out, she had to get to their home.

Through the woods, currently crawling with all manner of spirits.

Going to her shelf, Ravyn ran her fingers along the spines of a few tomes she'd collected. From the table she heard the mouse squeak again. Ravyn smirked as she found the book she was looking for.

"I know. I know. It's a dumb idea," she said without bothering to look at the little creature on her table. Instead her eyes were locked upon the dark red leather book she was pulling from the shelf while the mouse gave a little squeak in reponse. One of her own grimoires, stitched down the spine with gold thread. This had everything she'd need on spirits and possessions.

Finding her satchel, with small little bone charms tied to the straps and filled with everything she needed for a ritual, Ravyn slipped her grimoire inside and stepped back out into the night. Antoine was were she'd left him, but now sitting on his knees. He looked up at her with a pleading gaze. She sighed, and clapped her hands.

"Light that other jack-o-lantern. We might not have much time," Ravyn said, as she collected some of her own to hang off her belt from her window sill. She spent a few moments making sure the knots were good. Much as time was indeed of the essence, she had no intention of getting killed out in the woods. Or pulled into that strange realm of damnation the draugr dwelt within.

Antoine finally got to his feet, and used the candles within one of Ravyn's carved turnips to light his own. He let out a shuddering sigh as he collected his axe again and turned to look at the witch. She glared back at him with years of built up hatred.

"We go slow. If we rush, we risk putting out the candles. Then, Marion doesn't get her body back," Ravyn said walking to the edge of her property. She stopped just before the stoned painted with the old wards. With a slow breath she drew her sword. Behind her Antoine stood with both hands gripping his wood axe, a few sniffles still coming from him. Ravyn though stared out into the darkness of the woods, seeing the shapes shuffling about.

This was a foolish idea.

She stepped out from the circle and immediately felt the chill press in on her. The jack-o-lanterns hanging from her belt flickered, and the whispers of the dead pressed in on her. Unintelligible, but full of confusion and rage. These were the ones who never properly crossed. Locked between realms and damned to wander. Among them were worse things. Spirits from beyond that had no love for humanity.

One foot in front of the other, Ravyn started forward, following the footpath she and the few visitors she'd taken had worn through the forest. Around her draugr groaned and snarled. Their shadowy forms getting close to the path but never quite stepping close to Ravyn. She took another slow breath, praying to the Gods that the carved turnips continued to work their magic.

Behind she heard Antoine's footsteps. His rapid breathing as fear clawed at him. She glanced back to see his wide eyes as he looked at the lost souls about him. It was a wonder he had even made it to her place. Luckily the village wasn't too far. She had built her home just out of sight from it.

She was about to look forward again when a draugr stepped up to the side of the path. It almost hissed at Antoine, getting close to him, kept just at arms length by the jack-o-lanterns that flickered at his belt. Antoine stopped and gaped at the creature, his fingers flexing around the hilt of his axe.

"Antoine, ignore it. Keep moving," Ravyn warned, twenty paces ahead of him, but the lumberjack shook his head. His lips peeled back in a snarl. "No!"

Ravyn's shout didn't stop him as he lifted his axe and crashed it hard into the chest of the draugr. Bone crunched, blood sprayed, and the thing screamed but it was far from slain. It lashed out in blind panic, and its forearm crashed into the side of Antoine's head. The man stumbled to the side and fell face first onto the path. One of the turnips crushed beneath him, the light of the other snuffed out.

Darkness swept in around Antoine, and the forest itself seemed to screech. The black figures of the draugr emerged from between the trees. Bark flaked where they grasped the great trunks. Hissed growls spilled from them as they encroached upon Antoine who scrambled on his belly up the path. The man's axe still lodged in a dead thing's chest. It pulled it out with a spurt of blood and a scrape of steel against bone.

With a grip on the axe's haft, the draugr raised its hand as Antoine pulled himself along. Pain throbbed in his head while he crawled to the approaching light.

The axe caught against Ravyn's sword. The light of her jack-o-lanterns washed over the draugr and the others behind it. They shrieked, stopped their advance. The one before her though thrashed in panic. Desperate to claim the soul upon the ground, even as old magics drove into it, demanded it flee. Ravyn twisted her blade to the side, ripped the axe from the draugr's fists. She heard it crash in the forest somewhere to the side as she hacked at the dead thing's neck.

Bitter black blood spattered across her face and neck. She spat, and hacked again as her blade hit the creature's spine. It grasped the edge of the sword and hissed at her. Blood ran along the sword's fuller, and Ravyn tried to pull it free, but she was no true warrior. She grunted and only slide the steel through the damned flesh. She slammed her hand into the creature's chest, felt the wound against her palm.

Ancient words flowed from Ravyn's lips, while Antoine stopped at the edge of her circle of light. He curled up and whimpered, seeing the draugr surrounding them. They stared at him with unseen eyes, the lantern light failing to show any details.

Power swirled in the air around them, drawn from the forest and realms beyond. Flesh sizzled and crackled beneath Ravyn's palm and the draugr shrieked out in agony. It fell to its knees, head thrown back as the flesh peeled back from its chest. The ribs beneath cracked and foul, bitter smoke poured out from the wound.

With a firm shove, Ravyn pushed it to the ground, where it lay still. Its blood frothed upon the ground as she stepped away, unsure if she'd put it down for good. One of the others twitched, and shoved its hand into the light. Her spell had weakened the power of the lanterns. Spindly fingers grasped Antoine's hair and he tugged away with a scream. He grasped the creature's arm as pain flared in his scalp. The draugr stumbled inwards, and Ravyn spun.

The edge of her blade caught on its elbow. Flesh burst open, bone snapped, and the arm came off with a spray of blood across the ground. The draugr fell past Antoine, who hurriedly pulled the fingers from his hair and tossed the severed limb away.

"Kill it," he shouted as he sat up, but Ravyn just grabbed him by the tunic and tried to haul him to his feet. He was heavy though, and she grunted at the strain in her arm, while the man scarcely budged.

"No, just... get the fuck up," she said, and glanced back at the fallen draugr. It was getting its remaining hand underneath it. Palm and bleeding stump against the dirt it started to push up. "Get the fuck up and lets go."

Antoine pushed himself upwards, stared at the thing now on its knees. A faceless creature with a face the world had forgotten. A soul scrubbed bare in the beyond. It turned its head to them, its maw opened in a hiss. Antoine took a step towards it, but Ravyn firmly planted a hand on his chest.

"No. We need to go. If you keep fucking about, you will get us both killed," she said firmly, while the draugr got its feet. Antoine watched it, almost entranced, and Ravyn regretted her choice intensely. She let out an annoyed growl and pushed past the man that had stolen her love.

The ring of her light moved with her, the other draugr letting out their shrieks as they stepped away. The light's edge reached Antoine's feet when he stepped back and turned to follow the witch. He shuddered as he felt those unholy eyes upon his back. Felt the thing's rage and hunger seeping into his mind. A physical thing brought forth from beyond.

Antoine hurried then and caught up to Ravyn. His eyes snapped at all the things lurking in the dark. Some with less shape to them than the draugr. Formless beings that wanted to slither into his flesh. Take him into some unholy pit. It dragged his thoughts back to his wife, and he felt tears gather.

"Don't slow. Keep pace," Ravyn said, and she almost spat on the ground before they turned a corner. Ahead were the squat thatch roofed buildings of the village. The entire place was lit with more jack-o-lanterns, sending shadows dancing across the walls of homes and shops. The sign above the inn's door creaked as it swayed in the wind, not a person to be seen wandering the streets. Above the buildings though, shadowy forms darted to and fro. Lost souls, spirits. Some malevolent, some merely desperate.

And one of them had found its way into Marion. Something that wouldn't have happened if she wasn't trying so damned hard to distance herself from Ravyn.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she looked over her shoulder at Antoine. She could have beat him for what he did in the woods, much less what he did to her already. But she kept her hands and her blade to herself. She couldn't give the local priest just what he needed to finally drive her away. Or worse, get a witch hunt going.

"Lead the way," she said, gesturing towards the village, and for a moment Antoine just looked at her. Ravyn couldn't imagine what was running through his skull at that moment. Much as she hated him, he couldn't have a high opinion of her either.

When Antoine finally started walking, Ravyn kept close behind. Even in the village they needed the protective magic of the jack-o-lanterns. She kept her sword out, in case something of flesh had spilled over from the otherworld. A small trail of black blood pattered on the ground in her wake.

Antoine led them to a small little home. Single story, thatch roof, well made wooden walls. It looked like almost any other in the village. Unlike the others which had their jack-o-lanterns perched on sills and doorsteps, Antoine's home was devoid. The others all had light glimmering through the cracks in their windows, but Antoine's showed only a dim light. Ravyn frowned at that, even as Antoine stepped up to the front door.

He stood there a long moment, his hand stretched out but paused just inches from the doorknob. He stared at it, fear in his eyes along with something else. A look Ravyn was familiar with, just not one she wanted to see on Antoine.