The rain was pouring down as if fate itself wanted to do them a favour. The black, thick clouds hung low in the sky, and somewhere in the distance, in this cursed wilderness, there was the sound of a drawn-out wolf howling. The marshes in Blotnica. A place that even drunken peasants in taverns preferred not to talk about after dark.
The sodden, sticky ground gripped at the boots like a hungry mongrel at the gnats. Each step was a quiet, sickening clatter, as if the ground was trying to suck them under. The fog drifted low, thick as soup, and the darkness the darkness was like a living thing here - enveloping, suffocating, whispering.
Sharon walked first, upright, with her chin raised as if she were stepping onto a red carpet rather than into the middle of a muddy inferno. Her black cloak dragged heavy behind her from the rain, and her high boots tinkled every now and then in the swamp.
- "I'll tell you one thing, Brito," she spoke in an icy tone, without even looking back, 'this country really can make a person sick.
- "Veltera, lady sorceress," muttered Brito, gritting her teeth. - Proud, beautiful and, as you can see, bloody wet.
She was shorter than Sharon, stronger in the shoulders, younger. Her red hair was sticky to her face, and in her eyes smouldered the stubbornness typical of someone who had been wallowing in this mud since childhood and saw nothing strange in it.
- Veltera the beautiful? - snorted Sharon, sweeping the landscape with her eyes. - This swamp looks like the gods vomited drunk here.
Brito snorted with laughter.
- 'In Velter we don't have wonderful cities, rich and fertile soil, or even security. Yet despite this, people here would give their lives for Veltere and love her beyond life. And do you know why?
The sorceress raised an eyebrow.
- Because they are naive to go as cannon fodder to war without even knowing what they are fighting for?
- No... - She sighed with a slight irritation on her face. - For the people of Veltera may be simple, but they have bravery and patriotism....
Sharon looked at her as if with a slight admiration mingled with a dose of nonchalance. But she did not say a word.
They walked on, and the rain drummed on their hoods and shoulders. At one point Sharon stopped and looked under her feet, where something in the mud had moved.
- 'What's that...' - She asked panicked.
- Toads. Big ones. - Brito passed her as if nothing had happened. - The ones here are bigger than normal. They like to watch someone drown.
- "Lovely place," muttered Sharon with distaste, shaking the mud off her shoe. - Really, I'm beginning to understand your wariness. If I'd been born here, I'd want to punch someone juicy too.
- What about you? Where are you actually from, the perfect lady from the big world? - asked Brito, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye.
The sorceress smiled crookedly.
- From places where women don't have to fight toads the size of a dog, just men the size of their egos.
- Hah! - laughed Brito sincerely. - Well this is where you'll feel at home. We have egos here bigger than toads.
They walked in silence for a while. Only the rain couldn't get enough - it poured endlessly, heavy, steady, until it seemed to a person that there would never be a dry day again. From the dark water at the sides of the path, every now and then something would stick out its blind eyes - once yellow, once milky white. Someone less observant might have thought they were just frogs.
At one point Sharon spoke up - quietly, without a shadow of warmth, so matter-of-factly that it sounded sharper than any pretension.
- 'Tell me at last, Brito... who this boy is. Elrik.
Brito did not answer immediately. For a moment, all that could be heard was the clink of mud and a distant crack - as if somewhere behind them a branch had snapped under the weight of something bigger than a fox.
Finally, she spoke up calmly, with that tough country simplicity of hers.
- A boy like many here. Son of a drunkard. Mother long since run away.... Or dead, no one asked.
Sharon walked beside her, not looking, just listening.
- Sometimes I gave him something. Food. I taught him how to fish and things like that....
She snarled quietly under her breath - more bitterly than playfully.
- He was bad at thieving. Always walked around too loud. Always heart on top.
Sharon furrowed her brow slightly, but remained silent.
- The last time he was seen going into the woods. To get brushwood. And that was all that was left of him. - Brito spat to the side. - Somewhere in here. In this fucking hollow. Somewhere near where people started talking about the witch.
The rain had picked up. Something splashed to her left - hard, as if something had gone into or out of the water.
Sharon paused for a moment.
- 'So he's not your brother. You are not his mother. And yet you are lying behind him.
Brito raised her head. There was a hard glint in her eyes.
- You don't have to owe someone blood to care about them.
Sharon glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. For a brief moment, something intangible flashed in her gaze - a shadow of recognition, perhaps.
- Naive. - She summed up coolly.
- Maybe. - Brito shrugged her shoulders. - But here in Velter, without such naïveté there would be nothing left. Just toads and swamp. Anyway, aren't you doing the same thing I'm doing now, sorceress? Why are you helping me find him, eh?
- Me, you know... Maybe I'm just doing it for fun, or maybe I know a bit about magic and witches, so I decided to help a lady in need. You have something about you... Something that the nearby residents lack. You don't seem as stupid as the rest. - The sorceress revealed admiringly.
- What are you actually doing in Velter?
- I'm doing good deeds," Sharon said with obvious irony. - Let's go. - threw Sharon icily, glancing into the thickening fog. - 'We're getting close, I can sense the magic.
- By the way... - spoke up Brito as they walked on. - What do you actually know about witches?
Sharon smiled out of the corner of her mouth, without merriment.
- I know as much as I need to know. That you shouldn't mess with them.... Unless your name is Sharon.
Brito snorted under her breath, but quickly turned serious.
- 'And when we find her? What then?
The sorceress shrugged her shoulders as if she were talking about the weather.
- 'It depends. Sometimes a witch is just a woman with herbs. Sometimes something much worse. We'll see what we're up against.
They walked for a while longer when suddenly Sharon stopped.
- Can you smell it?
Brito furrowed her brow. There was a smell of wet moss in the air, but underneath it.... something else. Cold, metal, ash? Or maybe it was just imagination.
But then...
Whispers.
Quiet, lulling, like the voices of familiar people. Like a mother, like an old friend, like Elrik.
- Brito... - rang out from the mist. - Brito, here I am...
The girl moved as if in a trance. Step after step. An emptiness glazed in her eyes.
Sharon cursed under her breath.
- Well, no. I've missed this yet.
She snapped her fingers. The silent flash of a rune, barely visible in the rain, cut through the air. Brito settled into the mud - inert, calm, as if she had fallen asleep.
The whispers immediately grew louder - as if something had become annoyed. As if something had noticed Sharon.
She looked towards where the whispers were coming from. Now they sounded like dozens of voices, overlapping each other, promising everything the soul desired. Elrik, the mother, peace, warmth - and underneath.... something that creaked, as if something big and wet was crawling through the mud.
Sharon knelt by Brito and touched her forehead. The runes flashed once more, protecting the girl from the further effects of the spell.
- "Stupid, stubborn village savage," she muttered, but her tone was more affectionate than malicious. - 'But you have a heart bigger than all that Veltera.
She stood up slowly, throwing the hood off her head. Her black hair stuck to her cheeks and her eyes flashed ominously.
- Good. Do you want to play, witch? - She threw into the mist. - 'Then you've come across the wrong woman.
More runes began to appear around Sharon - luminous, quivering in the air like kindling warning signs. The mist swirled, moved restlessly, as if something inside her felt fear.
And then the words came - quiet, disturbingly close.
- And you... Sharon... Are you ready for what you will find next?
The sorceress smiled coolly.
And she took a step forward - straight into the thickening darkness.