The Coven of the Black Rose

Chapter Seven: A Hero's Name, A Town's Phantom

It was almost ten years ago when Tasra was younger and doesn't know anything much about sorceries. The city of Xetram had its own new name. Tasra, together with Floressa and Ronan visited Xetram one night. The three of them joined the assembly of coven in its stronghold. It was the time that Trisida, the coven head of Xetram, had gathered an army of warlocks and witches. She was once a great witch as Floressa was. She was wise and tactful, too. Yet none among Floressa, Ronan, nor Tasra knew that she would start a revolt within the city.
In a vast open-space of bricked-surface floor, Trisida, Floressa, Ronan, and Tasra stood before five dozen of warlocks and witches in their usual black cloaks. With their faces veiled they all listened to every word of Trisida.
"Tonight, everything will change." She spoke with her clear voice. She was years younger than Floressa. Her hair was black and long, skin was white, and face was beautiful and confident. Tasra and Floressa have never thought that she would instantly start a revolt in their own city. As if in that moment, her plan happened in a sudden and none of them could change her mind about it. Her hope and courage flows within her. "We have to strengthen ourselves, and fight for what's ours! So everyone, brace yourselves and we will retrieve our own freedom!"
"For Xetram! For Mirillios!" They all yelled in response then walked their way out.
"I wish the best for us, Trisida." Floressa gave her a worried look. "And I have faith in you."
"Yeah. This has to change something for all of us." Trisida replied. "Of course, I taught them well. We could win this, the magics and spells we have today will be our weapon. We don't need those ancient dark spells in order to make our kind stronger."
Ronan nodded in satisfaction. "By the change that we had, we would never repeat the same mistake that our ancestors have done in the past."
Trisida's sight shifted to Tasra who was staring at the dozens of warlocks and witches who marched away. "I knew that you're not that good yet. But I know you're a fast learner, Tasra. I know you can do it."
Tasra was a bit shy to her since they both didn't communicate or interact for most of the time. He seldomly visited Xetram but when he does, Trisida was one of the people who guides him about their place. "Thank you." Trisida gave him a hug. She was like a distant older sister to him. She was kind and friendly. "Always take care of yourself."
"Yes. You, too. I'm sorry if I couldn't join you."
Trisida patted his back softly. "It doesn't matter. Your skills aren't enough as you're yet a beginner. I know that you could be greater than us, sooner."
"Yes. Thanks. May the gods favor your journey."
"Thank you, Tasra." She pulled away from him then turned to Ronan and Floressa. "We should go now."
The both of them nodded, then turned to Tasra. Ronan patted his back. "We got this, Tasra. You could go home if you want."
"No. I'll just stay here and wait for you."
Ronan smiled. He, Floressa, and Trisida was about to follow their army but four veiled witches  emerged from the hallway behind them. They convoyed two unconscious prisoners who were both in armored suit and helm. Two knights of Forgon were captured and shackled. The witches dragged them towards one of the chamber inside, to keep them as prisoners.
Floressa's eye widened and gave them a scornful look. "What are those doing here? We must kill them right away!"
Trisida softly held her arm. "Calm yourself, Floressa. They are now our prisoners. I think that keeping them for interrogation will be good. We might discover more about Luison's plans."
Floressa thought about it. "Fine." But her sharp gaze was still locked at the knights. "Let's go." Together, they followed their army going outside their stronghold.
On the outside, they strode out from a hidden underground passage of a temple found in the central state of Xetram. Even in the evening, the knights of Forgon scattered everywhere in the city. Many of them patrolled around houses. When Trisida's army marched out of the temple, they whispered different incantation which makes their palm flare with green flames. The knights in armor drew their swords as their foe's presence has startled them. In defense, they positioned their stout shields. They have never seen so many warlocks and witches gather many as these. Later on, one of the knights walked to face the army of warlocks and witches. He heard their continuous whispering of incantations but that didn't bother him to speak out loud. "What is this? How many of you gathered to destroy us?" He laughed. "You really think you all would be enough?" Behind him were dozen horsemen who were armed with swords and bows. Their footsteps echoed through the wind of cold evening breeze.
Trisida, with her veiled face, kept walking to the frontmost line of her army. The knight who spoke earlier drew his sword and pointed at her. "Is it you who initiated this? I'll give you few seconds to surrender and stop this right now."
Trisida smiled without any response to him. She whispered something very softly then her palms flared green, too. "We went here, and we will fight for what's ours."
The horsemen who have bows drew arrows from their quiver and loaded their bow. "This is your last warning!" Called the knight.
"Then let it be." Trisida responded. Her eyes flared green as she gazed at him. The knight was horrified and took a step back. She opened her arms then the swirl of wind around them got gutsy. All of her kind remained there standing, letting their cloaks and hair be brushed by the strong blows of wind.  Eventually, thick white mist emerged from nowhere, shrouding the entire scene. All the knights hardly stood against it. They peered through the mist. The swirling gusts trembles their balance. Some of them stumbled off their horses and fell to the ground. They barely managed to get on their feet. Few accidentally dropped their swords and shields then later on was blown few feet away from them. For half a minute, they waited until the windstorm ceased.
The knight who spoke to Trisida remained standing. He shook his head and yelled. "Enough!" He glanced at the horsemen behind him then gestured to attack them. The horsemen held their weapons tightly yet they noticed that their swords were fully rusted and dull. Even their silver armors earlier turned rusty brown and orange from its polish silvery texture. They felt that it became weaker for their protection. Even all the knights there had the same. It just happened in a blink of an eye, right after the windstorm. All the horsemen hesitated to charge, even the knight was baffled on what just happened.
Within that moment, Trisida stepped forward then placed her flaring palms on the ground. Suddenly, a huge explosion of emerald flame blasted the horsemen from the land they were stepping on. The horses groaned, knocking them out to the ground together with the people who mounted on them. Their corpses laid on the ground with flames burning green. Every knight retreated in fear.
Trisida stood up and snapped her fingers. At once, all the warlocks and witches behind her marched forward. By their flaming hands, they blasted flames to the knights. The Forgonians raised their shields to protect themselves. Yet when it was hit and easily devoured by flames, melting it in an instant. The Forgonians retreated as they cannot do anything against the warlocks' and witches' magic.
In the middle of night, zaps of emerald rays of light flashed through the air. Their foes' rusty armors did no good to protect them. Petrifying shrieks of dying men has deafened the tranquil of the evening. Later, there were archers positioned on the houses' roof and released their aim at the witches. The arrows hit them but they just plucked it off themselves then marched as if nothing happened. There were no mundane villagers outside and both parties knew it.
Trisida's forces were winning and continued to march throughout the city. Soon, there were no Forgon army on their view. Many of them retreated, others have died with their corpses being consumed by blaze. Few of the houses were damaged, too. But they assured that no innocent was harmed.
Trisida cannot find where Floressa and Ronan were, yet it doesn't matter to her. As far as she could see, none of them were slain nor injured. All of them gathered before Trisida and bowed. Their palms were no longer flaming.
"Is everyone alright?" She asked them. They all nodded to her. Some have glanced around to look out for others with a wave of murmurs passing through. Trisida was feeling tired yet she felt she could still fight and continue their battle. She looked around and none of their foes were seen.
Suddenly, the sky was rumbled by thunder. Orange lightnings struck in the heaven. In the sky, they heard a high pitch of an eagle's whistle, and flaps of wings going to their direction. Trisida glanced on her right where a towering house was seen. On its roof, a creature landed. It has a figure of a horse but  it has huge feathery wings. Even from afar under the night sky, she can see that its anterior was feathery too, and has talons while its posterior has furs, hooves, and a horsetail. Upon looking at its eagle head, Trisida knew that it was a hippogriff.
Trisida was frightened as she saw a person in white cloak mounted on it. "Sorcerers of Light." She hissed then whispered an incantation to flare her magic in her palm once more. She saw that the veiled sorcerer held a staff on his right hand, a wooden rod with a gemstone on its tip.
"You've been warned but insisted to fight. Now, your lesson awaits you all." The sorcerer spoke.
All the warlocks and witches whispered and their palms flared again. Few of them were about to zap the sorcerer above with their flames but the sorcerer swiftly raised his staff and the gemstone illuminated. Thunder roared in the sky. The blow of wind got gusty again. It distracted them from casting their spells. He stomped the foot of his staff to the surface of the roof, then four lightning smote some of the warlocks and witches below.
Petrifying howls rang through the atmosphere. Trisida wasn't surprised but started to worry on how they would face this sorcerer. When the wind went calm again, she opened her palm where a sphere of emerald flame grew in an instant. Without hesitation, she threw it to the sorcerer and it hit him. The upper surface of the building was destructed by her blast. Its walls and structure were trembled. Its ground was heaped with debris. Trisida kept scanning for the sorcerer. In a swift, the hippogriff flew above the sky, the sorcerer was still alive. Trisida knew that he would summon another lightning from the sky.
"Agahas, sod zokes." She said and opened her palm to a huge boulder of rock beside her. It levitated then she dragged her hand directly above herself. The boulder flew above her, just in time before a lightning struck at her direction. It was broken into smaller fragments, but she was all good and unharmed. She glanced behind her and saw that some of her comrades did the same thing to protect themselves. Distressingly, others laid dead.
Whatever happens, they continued to blast flames to direction as more Forgonians marched towards them. Thunder continued to rumble, more sorcerers on hippogriffs emerged flying from behind the clouds of the night sky. It was difficult to hit them as they soared through the air. Trisida managed to take down few of them but later, she was hit by a gold and glowing arrow on her right arm. She tried to pluck it out but she felt nauseous. It was late for her to realize that the arrow was enchanted, unlike the ones earlier. She glared at where the arrow came from. Somewhere between the houses was an army of Forgonians archers whose arrows in their quiver were glowing gold. It did not take any longer when most of Trisida's forces were taken down. Few of them managed to escape and ran sneakily from the carnage. The knights in armor just stood still. They just watched the flying arrows rained down on the witches, and on how the lightning incinerate the warlocks.
Later that dawn, Tasra was awakened from his slumber and jumped from a couch as Floressa stormed in to a hallway where all Trisida's army had gathered.
"Aunt, what happened? Where are they?" Tasra was feeling nervous before Floressa say a word.
She took a deep breath and was trying not to be emotional on her tone. "We lost, Tasra... we lost."
Tasra's heart sank. How was that possible? He knew how great Trisida was. Her army was skilled enough. "But how?" He sat on the couch, as if all the energy inside him were consumed by the news divulged by his aunt. In disbelief, he gazed blankly on the floor.
All witches, who stood around them, bowed their heads upon hearing it.
Ronan emerged behind Floressa. His face was heavily traced by anguish. "Trisida is gone. Many of our brethren has been slain..." He sat along with Tasra and bowed his head. He was stunned in disbelief. All emotions of distress was crippling him.
Floressa clenched her fist. Her eyes flared with raging emerald flames. "LUISON WILL PAY FOR THIS!" She roared and blasted the wall before her. Fury has driven Floressa. Her glare shifted at the witches behind her. "BRING ME THE REMAINING PRISONERS, NOW!"
The witches were shock yet they obeyed as she desired. Soon, the shackled knights were brought before her. They were murmuring for help and begging for mercy. Floressa grasped their helm and threw it away. Her flaring eyes fixed at their scarred faces. Both of them has frizzy hair and reddish eyes, as if they did not have any sleep for several days. One was an old and bald bearded man while the other has short blonde hair but was younger.
"No please, spare me! I promise to not follow the Forgonians again!" The old man pleaded.
"Don't kill us! Have mercy!" The younger knight cried.
Floressa grasped the neck of the old knight.
Ronan rose. "Floressa, what are you doing? Stop that right now!"
"WHAT'S THE SENSE OF KEEPING THESE STUPID PEOPLE? THEY MUST DIE AS WELL!" Her grip tightened. Her hand was flaring emerald, too. The skin of the man was being scorched.
"NO!" He shrieked in pain. "I TRULY APOLOGIZE! JUST LET ME LIVE-" By then his whole head was incinerated. Floressa pushed his body to the floor.
"Floressa!" Ronan called and was about to stop her yet Floressa already griped the other knight's throat.
"Don't please! I have my family and-" Just like that, his face was burned, too.
"Floressa! Why did you do that?!" Ronan exclaimed.
She released the body and turned to him. Her hands were tainted by blood. The flares in her eyes have quenched, but her blue eyes were still traced by rage. "From this day, we won't be lenient. We will fight them and continue what Trisida has began." Floressa walked out to the hallway behind her.
Ronan shook his head and followed Floressa. Tasra wasn't surprise on how his aunt reacted. For him, he understood the way she was feeling. Tears trickled on his cheek, his watery eyes watched the burning remains of knights being devoured by emerald flames on the floor.
Until the next morning, the Forgon army cleaned up the mess of the midnight bloodshed. When dusk came, Luison and his people arrived along with more sorcerers of light. The king was in his silver armor and a golden crown on his head. Judging on his bearded face and long black hair, he aged same as Ronan. Near the temple of central Xetram, they all gathered before a wide platform of logs where corpses of warlocks and witches laid dead. In the middlemost was a tall standing log. Trisida was tied to it, grunting and half-conscious. Behind Luison's army were the villagers, the witnesses of Forgon's malice. The king walked towards the corpses, and spoke out loud to everyone. "A lovely morning for citizens of Xetram. As you can see many witches were defeated by our hands."
His malevolent green eyes glared at Trisida, then a knight handed him a torch. "Another day, another triumph of Forgon must be celebrated. And I hope that this serves a lesson for every one of you to not trust these creatures!"
He dropped the torch on the wooden platform then a flame kindled. It slowly grew and crawled throughout the surface. Luison glanced at the sorcerers. At once, they raised their staffs then summoned lightning which struck both the corpses and wooden platform. Trisida glanced over the crowd of villagers and saw Floressa, Ronan, and Tasra. Ronan has a scar in his face yet he was able to hid it by wearing a shawl. Even from afar, she saw the tears dripping across their cheeks. She doesn't have enough strength to respond to Luison nor to speak any last words. Subtly, she gave a smile to three of them. Finally, one of the sorcerers raised his staff then two lightnings smote Trisida's log. With all of those lightnings, the flame grew instantly and devoured the bodies. None among their remains, nor the hem of their cloak were seen.

From then, the city of Xetram was changed into Xen-Trisida as its new name. No matter how distressful the memory and the name could be, all the coven, the villagers, and surprisingly even the Forgonians acknowledged it as its new name. For Luison, hearing it reminds him of his victor's reminiscence. He also knew who Trisida was and it took him many years to capture her. But for all witches and warlocks, her name will always be a legacy of honor for the city.
———
"No. No. I don't want that to happen." Ronan said softly. He bowed and placed his palms on his face. Floressa felt her words upon saying the city's name. She and all of them closed their eyes and bowed.
"You might be right." Ronan continued and placed down his hands to the back of the table. "But I wouldn't dare to risk our lives on trying to summon dark spells."
Floressa glared at him. "Think about it, Ronan. With the dark spells we can use it to end this war. We have no clue on how powerful it is but it is our destiny to find out."
"No." Ronan leaned back, his expression hardened. "I know part of you wanted to witness the dark spells yourself and use it. 
Floressa gritted her teeth and slammed the table. All of them, except Ronan, were surprised. "Yes, Ronan. You're right. I can be kind and gentle as a loving elder but I can also be vile and dreadful whenever I must. I won't hesitate to burn everyone who goes on our way. And I will do everything for the sake of Mirillios."
He sighed. "We're having this again..." He drew a scroll from his lap then handed it to Floressa. "Another plan I thought about, I wrote an agreement with Forgon."
A wave of calmness brushed on her face. Floressa raised an eyebrow and read it. "Hmmm... You think they would accept this?"
"Sharing half of our general resources with them in exchange of peace that the witches and warlocks wanted."
Tasra though that it was kind of unfair to them. "So it is like, we will let them colonize us without harming us?"
Ronan frowned. "Not entirely. It is written there that we, as Mirillios will stand on its own and we will just share our resources with them. I just thought that maybe they would consider that."
Tasra nodded but same thought as Floressa, he has doubt if they would be considering this.
Floressa spoke once more. "What about the others? Do anyone of you thought of another plan?" One by one, they shook their head in response.
"So what do you all thought about the Chamber of Dark Spells." Floressa asked. "Do any of you think of using those?" Three of them raised their hand. Floressa's face was neutral. "How about those who stick with Ronan's agreement?" Four other people raised their hand. The others who did not raise their hand were understood as undecided.
"But if we will think about using the dark spells..." Ronan leaned closer. "How will we open it? It requires a key, doesn't it?"
Floressa stared at the table. Tasra forgot about that and none of them mentioned about that certain key.
"I don't know about that." She replied. "And, yeah, I have no clue on where we will find its key."
Ronan nodded. "Okay, then. But we still have to figure out how to find it."
"Yes, and I'm on it. Even though I never really thought about finding the key ahead..." She cleared her throat once more, and rose. "If we don't have anything else to talk about, I guess we have to proceed to our burial rituals on the cemetery. Shall we?"