Chapter 4-107: Silver Magic (1/2)
“You finally brought her in,” Serene Mother Tania of the Temple of the Hidden Stars murmured to Sama, watching Leslie being escorted off by two white-clad nuns with kind yet determined expressions.
Saving true Hagchildren from the Hag Curse was one of the sacred duties of the Sylunar faith, and they would do their very best to literally save her body and soul from it.
The New Moon was in three days, so to have any chance of success, they needed to do it tonight.
Sama had informed the Priestesses of Leslie’s existence some time ago, and they had mutually come to the understanding that the process should be delayed as long as possible, that she might enjoy a normal life and strengthen her will somewhat before the Curse Awakened. Trying to perform the Ritual of the Silver Queen too soon would likely only rouse the Curse early, and trying to condition her against it would do the same.
The Curse wanted an innocent soul to assail and corrupt with the evil inherited from her Hagmother. They would deny the Curse success, and that applied even if they had to kill a new Hag themselves.
“Citybound Quissio warned me that there’s a Hag in town. That Hag obviously knows I’m here, because she avoided getting anywhere near the Mix.” That being the area of St. Paul with the widest variety of races, and consequently the most energetic and vibrant part of the city, as non-humans often had magical talent to throw around. “There wasn’t much choice at that point.”
“Her Hagmother is here? She will definitely try to interfere with the Ritual.” Tania’s composed face hardened in both revulsion and trepidation. Hags were often Witches, and brutal killing machines on top of that. The combination would be bad.
“I certainly hope so.” Sama’s smile had all the edges to it. “That’s my job. I imagine that butchering the Hagmother trying to pass on her Curse will really cause some problems for it.”
The Serene Mother eyed her speculatively. She was a Caster, and had a spellflinger’s mindset. Dealing with the immensely dangerous physical prowess of a Hagchild as skilled as Sama Rantha was actually quite a bit outside her experience. “You can take out a Hag?” she had to ask.
“She won’t be the first.” Mother Tania blinked at that statement, considered what she knew of Sama, and the stories the two Amazons assigned to the temple often said about her.
They had seen her beating up a troll, with her fists. And she was a swordswoman, not an unarmed fighter...
“The great danger will be her infiltrating and getting into range of the Ritual. I can call up some faithful to help with security, but they are not her equal in combat, and we do not know her Casting power.”
“I’m not worried about it. I’ll make a ruckus, and you can come over to Dispel the shit out of her and any friends she brings along. She’s stupid to come in to a Temple in the first place, punish her for it. If she comes here, she’s going to die. She won’t be able to leave, and I’m not afraid of her at all.”
“Will you be able to intercept her?” Mother Tania asked reasonably.
“There’s no way she can escape my notice if she gets close. The same thing that lets her track me and Leslie lets us sense her.” Her Curse went pure radiant blue-black suddenly, losing its mottling, leprous appearance. “It’s a territory thing.”
“Right.” Mother Tania rolled her eyes, and Sama just grinned. Dealing with Hags and Hagchildren was going to be difficult at the best of times, as they were not Casters at all, and so were happy for physical conflict. Amazons loved to fight, too, but Sama simply took it to another level. None of the Amazons in St. Paul stood any chance in a fight against her, much to their chagrin.
If she could stand toe to toe with ogres and trolls, what was an invading Greenhag?
“Is her magic truly not going to be a problem?” Mother Tania had to ask.
Sama’s blue eyes, especially the wicked one, seemed to glow with anticipation. “That is what I am least afraid of at all.”
Serene Mother Tania had the wisdom to feel some trepidation of anyone who could profess to just ignoring the magic of a Hag, but also a very healthy level of respect...
----------
The border of the temple grounds was delineated by a low eight-foot wall. In a world with random undead going here and there, the defense was sufficient to basically stop most normal undead from the carefully-attended grounds inside, and even if they entered, the Wards over the grounds would instantly send it flaring alight with colored faerie fire, impossible to miss.
Anyone with magic active passing on these grounds, who did not also bear a suitably blessed holy symbol of Sylune, would also stand out like a light bulb.
There were ways around this, of course. The first was to not have any magic active or magical items upon you. The second was to be a Forsaken, and simply push away the Ward effect from your Gear so it didn’t radiate.
The third was to use a Blackflame Aura of Shoul to counter the radiant effect of the Wards, the darkness of the blackflame covering the betraying light of the Ward.
The Hag coming in was invisible, passing through the undergrowth and over the grass and leaves without leaving a trail or scent, making no sound despite her size. She was alert as she looked around, marking the Casters scattered here and there. They were scanning the grounds for signs of magic or intruders, while always keeping line of sight to at least two others.
Her claws clenched, wanting to pick off at least a couple of them. Illusions to replace those rapidly killed would teach these fools a lesson about underestimating Hags...
Danger!
It screamed in her forebrain, a merciless and familiar killing intent, a looming menace spearing through her at the very sudden impression that she had intruded on a territory that she should not have, and now she was going to pay for it!
She abandoned any thought of plucking her daughter from the cursed grip of these Sylunar. She had forever... she could get her revenge at any time later. But to do that, she had to survive the wrath of the Hag whose territory she had just infringed upon, and who was coming to kill her for her effrontery!
She had never felt such terrible killing intent from another Hag, and no Hag she had ever met had ever flinched from killing. But that was against others; among themselves, there were too many alternatives to killing for such minor grievances.
The Jump went off... and the bending dimensions refused to bend. She metaphorically slammed into dimensional walls that felt like solid steel, and the spell bounced.
“An Interdiction...” she murmured, and spun around at the rustling behind her.