Nimer trekked through the snow and mud, blind to the fact that he had no leads on where to look for Annabelle's dead body. The frozen air burned his face while he rode deep into the drab wood. Her body still had to be out there, or so he thought. He clenched his teeth as he slowed his horse to a trot and soon to a stop in the middle of a thicket of pine.
Bewildered, his eyes turned upwards towards the blanketed sky while he caught his racing breath. Rage shot through him like an arrow piercing prey and he let out a loud yell of frustration that echoed through the trees. He did not want to face it, the brutal truth that was now bestowed upon him. The bitter memories of his sister would haunt him though eventually, he hoped they'd come to pass.
Slapping his reins against the thick muscle of his steed's neck and moving forward into the brush. Light snowflakes drifted from the dark clouds above, settling on Nimer's coat and skin. The delirious man slid his hand into his coat pocket, withdrawing his brass flask and fumbled with its top.
In the middle of a drink, his horse snorted loudly, becoming restless. He scrambled about, seizing the reins to try and control his horse, his brass flask tumbling from his grasp and hitting the snow with a soft thump.
"Easy Night," Nimer grunted. He slid off his saddle, his boots causing a light crunch as he landed in the snow. Nimer retrieved his flask from the snow, his face scrunching in disappointment. Half of the liquid splattered the white coated ground.
"I'm low on healing brew," he mumbled and turned to mount once more when a different splotch of what he assumed to be liquid drew his eyes. It had left a trail through the woods of a dark red substance. Nimer knelt down, lightly placing a finger in the red snow. It melted away and dripped from his fingertip. With a light sniff, he could smell the scarce scent of iron.
"Blood," he thought to himself and glanced up, finding the trail was accompanied by human-like footprints.
"Peculiar…" he hummed and followed the trail, scanning the trees on high alert, placing a hand on the pommel of his sword, ready to draw his blades at any sign of danger.
Nimer reached a point where the trail of footsteps dissipated, leading to a dead end. The trail of blood did not stop, however, and smears of hearts bleed soiled the bark of a nearby tree. A sudden drop of liquid dripped onto his cheek, startling him slightly. He wiped his face, pulling his hand away, dread filling him from head to toe as dark red blood dripped down his fingertips leaving a vein like trail down his palm.
He went pale, his gaze darting to the treetops. A corpse perched in the high branches looking down at him with green illuminated eyes. The corpse smiled a familiar crescent moon that gleamed in the darkness. A reverberating voice in a thousand monotonous tones met his ears.
"Hello, Kitten."
"Annabelle…" Nimer stammered. Quick breaths spilled from his mouth and his heart raced.
Annabelle stood slowly, blood dripping from her mauled, bloody corpse. Her slender hand caressed the rough bark of the tree. The sounds of laughter reverberated in the still air of the wood. Sliding off the branch, she landed crouched in the snow. Her limbs were that of a rag doll. Her head rolled about her shoulders, a crazed smile on her face.
Nimer took quick steps backwards and drew his swords, gripping them tightly. He would not hurt her if he could help it. Nimer turned to retreat when, in a blink Annabelle moved in front of her brother, blocking his path.
"Where are you going?" she cooed. "You look frightened, Kitten. That's not like you." Her slender fingers framed his face and beard smearing blood across the rough skin over his cheek bone.
Nimer grimaced and shoved her away with force, holding the end of his blade to her neck. "Unhand me," he growled.
The girl stared at him as more chaotic laughter lingered from her breath. "This isn't like you, Kitten. Aren't you happy to see me? Your one and only sister?" She limped forward, piercing herself on the blade.
"Anna stop!" Nimer commanded and withdrew his blade from her chest. He flexed his hand outwards towards the nearby branches. They contorted, coming to life like a stringed puppet. Like a mass web, the ends sprayed in every direction, the ends snaking around her wrists and ankles retraining the corpse. Nimer began shaking trying to hold Annabelle still.
It took a great deal of will power to do so. She thrashed her arms and legs, pulling hard at the restraints and screamed wildly with rage. "You will not hold me here, Nimer. Release me, at once!"
"I can't do that! I must put you to rest! You are not well Anna!" Nimer barked back.
"This is my awakening, Nimer! It has begun!" She screamed. "I will be a god!"
Nimer's life force drained from him the longer he held onto her, sweat beads forming on his brow. Her efforts to escape were frivolous and he did not know how much longer he could hold on. With a cry of pain, he began to chant, "Taurion, heed me, take her soul and put it to rest!"
Suddenly, shadows sprouted from her back in a mass span of raven like wings that gleamed a subtle hue of greens and purple. Her head flung backward and bore her teeth savagely and she yelled as new power enveloped her body. Fresh tears met her eyes, rolling down her cheeks leaving fresh clean trails in the blood and grime that smeared her face.
Nimer kept trying to extend his power and ability, trying to reach her soul. Soon, a glowing orb of light rose from her chest like a whisp rising from the mists and soon silence fell upon the wood once again. The only sound heard was Annabelle's body falling into the fresh snow with a thud.
Nimer released the restraints from Annabelle's wrists and ankles. The branches settled back into their original position appearing still and lifeless like before. Nimer broke out into a coughing fit and heaved as he fell to the forest floor. He only lifted his head a moment when the shrill tinkering sound of a small bell caught his attention. The miserable man met the shimmering, yellow eyes of a black cat wearing a worn red collar with a worn, golden bell.
"Myrkatha," Nimer gasped.
The low hum of a purr rolled from the cat's chest. It looked up at the glowing orb from Annabelle still suspended in the air and hovering and flickering like a small ball of fire over the corpse.
"Wait!" Nimer pleaded and scrambled vigorously to his feet, but he was too late.
The black cat had leapt into the air and stroked it with one paw. The orb disappeared into the bell on the cat's collar. With a small ring, the cat's slender form dissipated into a shadow before Nimer could grab the animal.
Nimer lowered his hand in defeat. He slowly stood, his clothes now wet and soiled with water from the snow. Nimer walked forward, glowering down at Annabelle's body. Her still, glassy gray eyes stared up at him motionless like silver voids, now devoid of any soul. Nimer knelt down placing his palm to her rounded cheek saying his last goodbye before closing her eyes before finally putting her to rest.
Nimer left her laying in the snow as he staggered around picking up several sticks and large stones. He used the sharp edge of his cutlass blade to cut away at fallen logs along the ground, getting as much wood as he could carry himself.
His efforts continued for a few hours as he piled the supplies into a resting bed in the middle of a small clearing. Rummaging through the bushes, he managed to find a dying patch of sage and a barren bush that in the spring would bloom wild lavender. He lined the resting bed with what he could before turning back to where Annabelle lay.
The small man scooped up the corpse, one hand behind her back and the other tucked under her knees. She proved a handful to carry, her body just about the size of his own. But he handled her like glass, with much care in handling her flesh vessel left behind. His head was bowed as he walked, a shadow cast in his stern, blue eyes. He placed her body on the resting bed and neatly folded her hands over her chest. He slipped a dry lavender branch between her fingers then stepped back to admire his handy work.
Nimer extended his hand, palm upward and with a small spark, a flame soon danced and flickered against the crevices of his hand. Kneeling down, he burned the wood and sticks with the fire and her body was soon engulfed with flame. Nimer stood like a stone, orange hue from the fire mellowing the dark, rigid shadows of his face. The putrid smell of burning flesh did not deter him from his spot.
"You cannot kill me, Kitten," Annabelle's voice loomed again.
Nimer instantly panicked as a shadow of ash lifted from the flames and sprayed against Nimer's face then scattered among the trees. From the flames rose fiery images of animals; a horse, a raven, a boar, a rat, and a spider. The guide's jaw slacked and he cried, "No!" He cursed, then turned and ran back toward his horse. He needed to get back to Dalharst.