A History Through Blood

“Ambonisye!” Cried out Kosoko as he barged into the sorcerer's hut, sending the shelter's door slamming into a collection of mystical staves. “Ambonisye, the girl vanished!” Letting out a sigh, Ambonisye turned to the panicked child to find out what delusion he had this time. The child had a history of acting out and misbehaving, something which he could never seem to correct. Instead, he had chosen to pass him around the various families, something which only made the habit worse.

“So... how did that girl vanish, hmmm?” asked Ambonisye, head tilting to his left side. “I approached her from behind” began Kosoko, stammering out his words. “I grabbed her... She then screamed and turned into … ash? Black smoke? Shadows?” This child lacked the magical skill, not to mention intelligence, required to perform a spell capable of performing such a feat. So, assuming the boy spoke the truth, the question then was... what did the boy do to supposedly defeat the bird faced sorceress?

Ambonisye carefully examined Kosoko, much to his growing irritation, to find any explanation as to his bizarre story. His small body did not possess any form for magical energy, nor did he actively carry any mystical trinkets. “Are you sure about this, Kosoko? Ya lacking any proof of ya claims. She be having a powerful spirit protectin' her, not something ya can just destroy in a second.” Scared and confused, Kosoko just stood there. He tried to come up with some justification. “But...she...” was all he could stammer. “Maybe this story is just a game from that bird woman.” Mused the sorcerer, finally abandoning the trust in Kosoko's words.

“Wait! It wasn't the bird woman!” Kosoko protested. “It was her younger sister!” Rushing forward, Ambonisye grasped onto the child with his bony fingers. “Sister, that woman had a sister!? How did I not see such a thing? Tell me about the sister, now!” Fear entered the child's eyes, unable to look away he simply froze. The longer he stood there, the tighter the sorcerer's grip became; creating streams of blood that trickled down his small chest.

Realizing that the child was useless in his current state, the sorcerer released him from his strong grip. “Catch ya breath, tell me about this second woman.” As Kosoko recovered, Ambonisye rocked back and forth on his staff, impatiently waiting for any information as to the woman's weaknesses. If she were a foul spirit, then defeating such a thing would increase his notoriety and bring other villagers back with apologies.

“She was a young girl... Maybe a few seasons older than me...” Kosoko's sentences were staggered, still shocked by everything going on. “She was doing something with the vines people had gathered from the forest. I tried to touch her... but she vanished before I could get a good grip.” “Did she have any markings, writings or other such patterns on her body?” “No...” replied Kosoko, straining to remember her feature. “Aside from her white skin, she looked the same as us.” “Strange... maybe she was a source of power for the bird spirit...” Ambonisye asked out loud. “You did fine, rest over there. This requires a more delicate touch.”

“Go my minions” commanded the sorcerer, pointing his staff towards the caravan. “The rain has stopped, so you are free to roam the night. Observe the bird spirit and report back to me.” From the supporting roof beams a skeletal rattle could be heard, followed by a light thump as something landed onto the dirt floor. Few knew that he possessed a small group of Tokoloshe*, that silently kept the remaining villagers in line.

After the communal split years ago Ambonisye had been desperate for some form of blessing to show the remaining villagers that Akake nla was the correct path. In an attempt to boost morale, the sorcerer had purchased a sacrificial slave to offer to Akake nla in order to receive even greater blessings. The death god had been extraordinarily pleased with the offering and had taught him a secret technique, taken from his homelands far south in return. Although it pained him to admit it, he required much support from Akake nla to be able perform such an extreme ritual. Had it not been for his presence, the slave may have been able to escape deep into the woods. However, once he had found the courage to do it once... any guilt he had soon disappeared as the power washed over him.

Once he had performed the sacrifice in a deep forest clearing, Ambonisye had begun to slowly prepare the now lifeless corpse. By carefully piercing the slave's eyes and skull with a hot iron rod, he removed any lingering attachment between the soul and its former body. After the body had been prepared, all he had to do was apply Akake nla's special powder to the body. It took long several hours of waiting in the humid jungle, but soon it shriveled up to something the size of a baboon. By placing a smooth pebble, taken from a nearby stream, into its mouth it became invisible to all but the sorcerer. Despite the power given to him, it took far too long to become comfortable in the presence of his minion. It's dehydrated appearance repeatedly entered his nightmares, something which took many creations to finally adjust too.

-

After being woken by Rose's scream, Arthur had taken up watch from the side lines while the others got ready for an early departure. This village had been nothing but a bad source of luck, with only the rain's slow easement providing any positive news. Only through Victoria's efforts did they maintain their weakened morale. She had provided everyone with a slightly bitter drink that sent waves of warmth throughout their cold and fatigued bodies. Whatever the remedy was, it did not ease their growing paranoia. It was almost like something unseen was watching them from the shadows.

He had asked Julianna about Rose's condition when she passed around the herbal mixture, but only received bad news. “She... is not in a good state right now. We are tending to her as much as we can, but you can only do so much while preparing our departure.” Whatever the other priests thought of Victoria was none of his concern, even so he did have a soft spot for the young girl. While her mistress emotionally distanced herself from her surroundings, the small familiar often made up for it tenfold. He lacked many of the details, but something had occurred back in England which left lingering effects that manifested at times like this.

Something caught his attention in the woods. The long grass parted in an odd manner, as if resting on some unseen form. He could not see the cause of the disfigurement, even though grass refused to bend back even under the effects of wind. “Victoria,” he called quietly. “Come here a second, don't look directly at that broken fence.” One of the things which Arthur took for granted was that only their translator and the odd high-ranking spirit could understand their language. While he did not abuse this in his travels, it did give them an advantage over the native people, especially when he had picked up the odd Yoruban word.

“There is something in the grass about ten feet left of the rotting fence post. Look at the grass itself.” Arthur casually commented, misdirecting to a random point far to the right while doing so. “I cannot see anything,” responded the vampress. “But I can see the indent you are referring to. My usual incense isn't effective against whatever it is.” Victoria paused for a second as if confirming something. “There is a tree, right side, behind an old wagon wheel. Third branch on the left, look at the stems.” It took a second to adjust to the moonlight, but there was another indent in the dense leaves. “Julianna and I will try to count them,” Victoria said, moving towards the far end. “They seem content to simply watch us for now.” Had it been months ago, Arthur would have considered challenging the hidden sentries. But he knew how fruitless the endeavor would've been and that it would only worsen their position.

Arthur continued to split his attention between the two invisible watchmen, looking for anything which could yield a weakness. Then something briefly formed on one of the tree branches. A twisted humanoid figure that was hunched over a branch. For a brief moment, every few minutes, the creature seemed to shimmer into existence. Its gaunt and tortured visage staring from the treetops. The other one, although far more exposed in the overgrown field, did not hold a similar defect. Unfortunately, all he could hear what the occasional droplets of rainwater landing on the ground and the occasional movement of small rodents.

“I count six.” Victoria said as they returned under the pretext of bringing a fresh cup of soothing medicine. “You find anything?” Arthur nodded, “See the one you spotted in the tree? Every few minutes it briefly comes into view.” As he said that, the creature's camouflage broke again, unintentionally revealing its form to the vampire. “It appears to be a cadaver,” she noted slowly extrapolating based on the brief glimpse. “It was likely an adult human male with, what appears to be, punctured eye sockets. The skeletal structure has been altered, shrunk down by some magical process. I would guess your purifying magic could cleanse it, but you would have to get close to do so.”

As they spoke, something in the trees moved, sending the nesting birds to frenzy. The movement sent a downpour of stagnant rainwater down onto the ground below. Now soaked with rainwater, the corpse was sat hunched and exposed on the tree branch before quickly retreating into the jungle to avoid detection. “So, water exposes them?” Asked Arthur. “I believe so.” She murmured in response. “They don't seem to have much intelligence and assumed we did not see it. Our plans may need to change.”