The Hush of the World (ONC 2024)

Chapter 9

The morning sun, a soothing shade of blue behind a veil of perpetually swirling purple clouds, filtered through the narrow windows, rousing me from a restless sleep. My body ached, and the weight of the bargain pressed down on me like a physical burden.

A glint of amusement flickered in the Haider's eyes as I entered the grand hall. He sat upon his throne, adorned in a black robe that shimmered with an otherworldly light. "Ah, our guest awakens," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the hall. "I trust you slept well?"

I nodded curtly, refusing to meet his gaze. My attention was drawn to the figures congregating at the far end of the hall. Dark faeries, their delicate wings shimmering in the dim light, formed clusters, their hushed whispers carrying a sense of anticipation.

Haider gestured towards the gathering crowd. "Today, we have a special event. A spectacle, if you will," he announced, his voice resonating with a dark humour. "The Nether Witch, that impudent hag, has dared to trespass upon my lands. It seems retrieving her... misplaced item," he shot a pointed look at me and winked, "will be quite the entertainment."

Entertainment? This wasn't some game. This was a life-or-death situation. But before I could voice my outrage, Haider clapped his hands, and the chatter in the hall ceased.

"Let the festivities begin!" he boomed, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

Shadowfang materialized beside me, his expression cold. "Follow me," he rasped, his voice devoid of emotion.

We emerged from the palace and into the sprawling grounds. Lush, emerald forests gave way to a desolate landscape of twisted, skeletal trees and a carpet of black ash that crunched beneath my feet. In the distance, a natural amphitheatre had been carved into the hillside, rows of onyx seats already occupied by the faerie nobility.

A sense of dread washed over me. I wasn't just facing the Nether Witch; I was performing for the amusement of an entire court.

Shadowfang led me to the designated spot in the amphitheatre. Despair threatened to consume me as I surveyed the vastness of the arena, the hostile audience, and the looming, ominous presence of the Nether Witch's tower in the distance.

Just as I began to sink into the depths of despair, A sardonic snort escaped my lips as Shadowfang tossed the pouch at me. "A gift from your... host," he rasped, his voice devoid of emotion. A gift? More like a cruel joke. I ripped open the pouch, expecting some kind of weapon, a magical sword, anything remotely useful against a soul-sucking witch. Instead, my fingers brushed against something smooth and cold. Pulling it out, I stared at the delicate wishbone in disbelief, this one was dark with golden scrawls over it in a language I didn't understand. I couldn't find the one Rani 'handed' me last night. I suppose the dark king disposed of it, nothing of the light to taint his domain.

This had to be some kind of twisted faerie humour. What the hell was I supposed to do with a wishbone? Throw it at the Nether Witch and hope for the best? A surge of anger coursed through me. Was the king mocking me? Did he think I was a little girl playing a game of make-believe? But as I held the wishbone tighter, a faint blue light pulsed from its surface, mirroring the otherworldly glow filtering through the windows. A sliver of unease snaked through me. This wasn't a regular wishbone. Whatever it was, it might be my only hope in this twisted spectacle. Clutching the bone in my sweaty palm, I steeled my resolve. Time for childish games was over. It was time to face the Nether Witch.

The Wraith King's voice boomed across the amphitheatre, silencing the murmuring crowd. "Welcome, loyal subjects and esteemed guests, to this momentous spectacle! Today, a brave human, Ayina, has volunteered - or perhaps been... persuaded - to face the Nether Witch and retrieve a most... valuable possession of mine."

A ripple of amusement ran through the faerie ranks, their cruel laughter echoing through the desolate landscape. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stand tall despite the churning pit in my stomach. The king gestured towards the towering black monolith that dominated the horizon.

"The Nether Witch resides within that obsidian monstrosity," he declared, his eyes, now sapphire, gleaming playfully. "Her... hospitality is notoriously lacking, and the consequences for failure are... permanent."

My heart hammered against my ribs, but I refused to show fear. This theatricality, this spectacle, served only to mask the true danger of the task ahead. What exactly was this "possession" the king prized so dearly, and what horrors awaited me within the witch's domain?

A hush fell over the amphitheatre as a colossal horn, carved from some monstrous beast's bone, blared a chilling challenge. The sound reverberated through the desolate plains, echoing off the inky tower and stirring a sense of unease in the very air.

A slow rumble emanated from the tower, growing louder by the second. The ground beneath my feet trembled, and cracks snaked across the black ash like malevolent veins. Then, with a deafening boom, a section of the tower wall crumbled inwards, revealing a gaping maw of churning purple mist.

From the swirling vortex emerged a horrifying creature. The Nether Witch.

She resembled a grotesque caricature of a woman, her body a writhing mass of inky smoke that coalesced into a vaguely humanoid shape. Her face was a twisted mask of rage and hunger, with glowing red eyes that seemed to pierce my very soul. Long, barbed tentacles lashed around her form, dripping with an oily, luminescent ichor. The air around her crackled with an unnatural energy, the stench of decay and despair overwhelming my senses.

Terror threatened to paralyze me, but the image of Rani, strong and defiant, flashed in my mind. I wouldn't let fear consume me. Clutching the wishbone in my hand, I took a deep breath and stepped forward.

As I approached the vortex, the whispers from the faerie audience grew more vicious. "Foolish human," they hissed. "The witch will devour her whole!" "A tasty morsel for the hag!"

Their taunts fueled my resolve. I wouldn't be a helpless victim in their twisted game. I was here to save Rani, and I wouldn't falter.

Reaching the swirling vortex, I hesitated for a moment, the churning purple mist seeming to pulsate with an unnatural malevolence. Then, with a deep breath, I plunged into the unknown.

The world dissolved into a chaotic kaleidoscope of swirling colours. The stench of decay intensified, burning my nostrils and making me gag. My stomach lurched as I tumbled through the vortex, the sound of the cheering faerie crowd fading into a distant echo.

Finally, the chaotic motion ceased, and I landed with a thud on a cold, damp surface. Disoriented, I scrambled to my feet, my heart hammering against my ribs. Around me, stretched a desolate wasteland bathed in an eerie purple glow. The air hung heavy with the smell of rot and despair, and skeletal trees with gnarled, twisted branches clawed at the blood-red sky overhead.

In the distance, a colossal white fortress loomed, its forboding spires reaching towards the crimson heavens. It was the Nether Witch's true domain, and a sense of foreboding washed over me. Here, amidst this desolate landscape and within the confines of that ominous fortress, lay the key to my freedom, Rani's safety, and perhaps even a way back to the human realm.

Clutching the wishbone tighter, I took my first tentative step into the Nether Witch's domain, the weight of the bargain hanging heavy on my shoulders. With each step, the oppressive atmosphere intensified, the very air seemingly charged with a malevolent energy that pressed down on me.

The only sound was the eerie moaning of the skeletal trees and the distant cackle of unseen creatures. Every shadow seemed to writhe and twist, concealing unseen horrors. A wave of terror threatened to consume me, but the thought of Rani spurred me forward.