Red Wizard — Roleplayer Guild

S   i   m   b   e   l   m   y   n   ë

With the moon as her only companion, Simbel soared high above the roofs and chimneys of the town. She liked it up here, far above the troubles and hardships of the world. The night sky was silent, tranquil even. A sacred place, unlike the filthy streets below, with their smell and their ruckus. She needed time to think about all that had happened tonight. It was a lot to take in. Most of all, she wanted guidance, but Mother was not there to help her. Why had she abandoned Simbel like that? Why had she put her up for this task, with these people? None of it made sense. Simbel felt lost and lonely, far away from the comfort of the woods of her coven. She wondered what the other witches would have thought of this. Did they know? Simbel couldn’t tell.

She spotted a small grove a ways outside of the town, and flew over. It was a small place, no doubt set upon by hunters and loggers during the day, but it would serve her for the night. She found roots, berries and mushrooms to eat, and a small stream provided water. It had the tang of livestock to it, but Simbel could find no alternative and so was contended. The sounds and scents of the night descended on her like a comforting blanket, and she found herself at peace. A fox eyed her warily from a bush nearby, and when Simbel greeted it, it came to her for warmth and comfort. With the small animal in her lap, the witch pondered her next course of action.

She had decided upon holding her word to the group and would return to them in the morning. As much as she was suspicious of the entire affair, she wanted to see where the path would take her. It also seemed like the best way to find Mother, and for that she was almost desperate. There were too many uncertainties, though. She needed guidance. And Simbel knew where to find it.

The fox leaped from her lap as she stood. She gathered twigs and fallen branches for the fire, and prepared the runes around it just as she had been taught. Finally, she produced the small effigy of the Horned One and put it in the center of the pyre. With that, the preparations were done. Next came the summoning.

The sounds coming from Simbels mouth would have sent grown men scrambling in horror. The incantations were of the secret tongue of the Wilder, privy only to those initiated into the circle. As she finished the first passage, the pyre lit up with an otherworldly flame, bathing the grove in hues of azure, emerald, and amethyst. Simbel continued with the second passage, the fox observing her with curious eyes from under its bush. As the incantation came to an end, the flames went out as suddenly as they had appeared.

Now, she would wait for an answer.

It came creeping through the shadows, slithering in the wind, crawling at the edges of Simbels vision and in the back of her mind. She felt the tug, sudden and harsh, her eyes rolling. Then she fell to the ground, and all was black. In the darkness, she was carried by strong arms, caressed by sharp talons, to another place and another time. She saw herself, filthy and bewildered, hunched over in an alley, looking to and fro with eyes struck by paranoia. Her right hand was grasping something, the knuckles white from exertion. 

They cannot have it, the Simbel that was not Simbel whispered to herself, Cannot see it, cannot touch it. Never! It is mine.

There was a nervous edge to her voice, a restless quiver, that felt unnatural and worrying. The Simbel looked down at her hand, slowly opening the fingers, revealing the object inside. It was an amulet, looking eerily like the token that Mother had left behind. Before Simbel could investigate further, the other Simbel closed her fist once more. She turned her head, and for a moment they were looking right at each other.

You cannot have it either, the Simbel said, baring her teeth in a snarl. Then the strong arms carried her away once more, leaving her deranged mirage behind in the darkness.

Simbel woke on the forest floor. The fox sat by her side, observing her. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. The vision was already becoming unfocused, but she remembered the message: there was something off about the amulet. The effigy was left, unscathed, in the remains of the fire. Simbel picked it up and placed it back where it belonged. A new day was dawning, and the time had come for her to return to the group. Whether she would tell them of her discovery, she had not yet decided. She bid the fox farewell and took flight once more, heading for the town.
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