» Hauntings & Healings

I'm no hero and I'm not made of stone

For an instant, her gaze is caught by the demonic red glare of the wolf's eyes, and for that fraction of a second Erthë felt as though time had ceased to flow around her. Internally she balked beneath the dead god's gaze, but strangely enough she felt no anger in that brief glare, no hatred or begrudging of her existence even though she'd had such a part in his demise. Indeed, all she saw and felt was, oddly enough, appreciation, and it was so baffling that she all but forgot the battles that raged around her, and would have failed to notice the onslaught of dark spirits if the fang in her grasp had not reacted in her defense. It flared up in a bright, painful red glow and shattered, vanquishing several wraiths as it did so, and fell to the ground.

All around her the wraiths were disappearing. One by one and in droves they were herded towards the grinning wolf fangs and disappeared in a ear-splitting wail of dismay, and before Erthë could speak a word of thanks or plead the shadow of the god for a way to defeat Kaos, it too vanished. Gone, as if it had never been there at all... with the bloodied bodies and warped magic left as the only proof of its existence.

For a while, Erthë merely stood there, numb and still in the swirling mist while the echoes of shock and grief reverberated through her. There was disappointment too, for not only had the wolf failed to revive, it had caused the fang to explode as well, leaving nothing left for her to pin her hopes on. It felt like a defeat, even though on the whole they must have emerged victorious from this skirmish with the dead, and its taste was bitter in her mouth. Reluctant to part with even the shattered remnants of her hopes, the little mare searched the ground for the fragments of the fang, but was surprised to find not shards of black tooth but three whole fangs, as black as the one had been but without that eerie black glow.

Bemused but grateful, the hybrid mare gathered them up and tucked them away for safekeeping, and once she had made sure that there was nothing left there for her to do, she retreated from the clearing. There was much to think about, much to consider, but before she could do that she would need to rest.

Fighting ghosts was draining business, to be sure.

Right or wrong, I can hardly tell
I'm on the wrong side of heaven and the righteous side of hell

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