Lidiya Witchain - the forgotten bride

Spirit in the bottle

The room was shrouded in an eerie, thick darkness, the air dense with the stench of Zelda’s concoction. Bat hair, lizard saliva, the seed of rezinash, holy well water—ingredients from nightmares simmered in the bubbling pot before Zelda. Lidiya watched in morbid fascination, her face pale under the flickering candlelight, her mind reeling from the putrid smell that filled the room.

"Is he… going to drink this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Zelda’s lips curled into a dark smile. "No, my dear. We’re going to apply it to him. He needs to be… ready."

Zidane lay in a circle of rock salt, his body still, his breathing shallow. The anticipation in the air was thick enough to cut. Lidiya’s stomach churned with anxiety, but she kept her silence. She had insisted on staying, but now, every instinct screamed at her to run.

As Zelda and Lidiya began rubbing the potion onto Zidane’s skin, Zelda’s face grew grim. "No matter what happens," she warned, "do not cross the circle. His spirit will be put into a deep, unconscious state, and his body will be vulnerable. We’re trying to pull Oswen’s spirit out and into this." She held up a small glass bottle, filled with strange etchings.

Lidiya nodded, swallowing hard, her gaze fixed on Zidane. The room seemed to grow colder, shadows slithering along the walls. Zelda knelt by Zidane’s side, muttering ancient words, her voice like a haunting lullaby as she painted strange symbols on his skin with snake’s blood.

Suddenly, the room pulsed with energy. A chorus of voices, whispers not belonging to Zelda or Lidiya, echoed in the room, rising and falling in a haunting rhythm. The candle flames flickered violently, and a strong gust of wind tore through the chamber, chilling Lidiya to her core. Her heart pounded as the air grew heavy with unseen forces.

Then, Zidane’s body jolted, his eyes snapping open. But the blue of his eyes had vanished, replaced by a bottomless, terrifying blackness.

"Oh, my sweet Lidiya," the figure sneered, his voice dripping with malice. It wasn’t Zidane. "Did you miss me?"

Lidiya’s blood turned to ice as Oswen’s spirit, now inhabiting Zidane’s body, fixed her with a twisted grin. "How tragic," he mocked, his gaze sweeping over her with a mixture of desire and disdain. "My dear, betrayed by the only woman I thought I could trust. Such a… harlot, aren’t you? Throwing yourself at this man."

"Shut up, Oswen!" Lidiya spat, her fists clenched.

Zelda’s chants grew louder, more urgent, as she continued the spell to expel him. Oswen merely chuckled, turning to Zelda with a taunting smile. "You think your little parlor tricks can contain me?" he sneered. "I’m no longer the weak spirit you once imprisoned."

"Leave his body, Oswen!" Zelda commanded, voice trembling with intensity. "You belong in the bottle, nothing more."

Oswen threw his head back and laughed—a dark, hollow sound that seemed to resonate from the walls. "You’re wasting your energy, witch," he sneered. "Zidane’s body is mine now."

Lidiya’s breath quickened as Oswen’s gaze shifted back to her, his lips curling into a smirk. "Tell me, Lidiya," he taunted, stepping closer, "Did you think Zidane could ever truly love someone like you? A mere peasant, clinging to fantasies. Did you see his beloved Aurora? You’re nothing compared to her—just a pathetic substitute."

Lidiya’s hand itched to slap him, but Zelda’s earlier warning echoed in her mind. Her nails dug into her palm, but she held her ground.

As Zelda’s chanting grew more desperate, Oswen’s grin twisted into a sneer. He slid a dagger from Zidane’s boot, holding it up for them both to see. "Shall we see how far your little love will go to save me?"