The Little Dark One

3

FALLON

Fallon groaned in frustration, throwing his head back. He had been trying to speak to his spirits for the past three hours, but his mind kept getting distracted. It was the Wiccan from the woods, such a fiery red-head. He couldn’t get her out of his head. Something about her intrigued her, and he didn’t know what to think of it.

“My friend,” Tobias drawled from where he lay curled up beside him. His tongue flickered in and out. “What’s on your mind?”
 
Fallon sighed and closed his eyes. “Nothing,” he insured his scaly companion. He unfolded his legs for a second to stretch them. He’d been sitting on the floor of his living room with his legs crossed for hours, and his knees were starting to lock. 

"I don't believe you,” Tobias replied. He finally looked at Fallon, and Fallon merely glared at him. “I may not have my human body anymore and I may be stuck in the body of this snake, but I’m still your closest friend. I know when something is bothering you.”

Another groan. “I’m fine, alright?” Fallon crossed his legs again and placed the backs of his hands on his knees. “Naperta, ad ni portam atrari mundor. Mellin loquori inim animabus morturom,” he chanted in the Ancient Tongue. 

Wind began whipping around the room, and Tobias hissed in annoyance. Smoke billowed out from Fallon’s mouth as he repeated his chant over and over. The smoke swirled around his head and body, covering him entirely. 

“Naperta, ad ni portam atrari mundor. Mellin loquori inim animabus morturom,” Fallon continued. 
 
Why have you called upon me, Necromancer? A sinister voice echoed.

Fallon stopped his chanting to see a beautiful woman standing before him. The edges of her body shimmered, as if she was just a projection of thoughts. Fallon stood, his eyes immediately drawn to the black markings all over her lean body. Wiccan markings.

“I have called you to ask you something,” Fallon said. The woman tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “First, may I ask your name?”

You may call me Aithe, the woman replied. What is your question?

"Well, first, I must tell you: a new Wiccan has emerged in this world,” Fallon told her. The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Which is interesting to me, because from what I have read, Wiccans have never reproduced. They merely lived very long lives and never had children.”

For most of us, that was true, though one of us was drawn to a Fae male. Aithe informed. It was towards the end of the Great War, and she became pregnant with the male’s child. The Crone, the leader of our people, banished her. To be honest, I believe it was justified. 

“Can you tell me her name?”
 
Aithe scowled. If what you have said is true, it does not bode well for the rest of your kind, Necromancer. I will tell you all about the Wiccan in question if you tell me how you came to learn of the presence of this new-born.

"Sounds like a good exchange.”

The name you seek is Sloan. At the start of the war, she was very shy and did not approve of all the violence and death. However, as time went on, she realized it was kill or be killed. After that, she became one of the fiercest warriors, with more kills than the rest of us combined. Alone, she slaughtered over four hundred men and Fae alike. That is, until she met a Fae male, Ostren. For them, it was love at first sight. By the war’s end, Sloan had become pregnant. When it came down to surrender, Sloan had a choice. Save her Sisters and kill Ostren, or be killed herself. So, she killed Ostren, as well as a Fae female, Astrava, whom Ostren had been fighting alongside. Ostren was her final kill of the war.