Worst Curse: A Ghostwalkers Journey, Book II

Epilogue

     Underneath a layer of fog, blood still drained into the gutters. The nostrils of those sick, camped out underneath the city, could now smell a fresh death, relieving them of the stale decomposition happening around them. For hours the air had been calm. Silence was a relief to those left behind in the city. Around the perimeter of the void that once was the Light Witch's fortress, moans of the wounded haunted the land. Crowds of refugees began returning to the city with the morning sun, but no one was available to open the gate to allow them access on the South end; unknown to them the Northwest gate was busted open. All evil had retreated into hiding with no plan on returning anytime soon.

     After making an escape, what was left of the Counsel pulled themselves back to the Mayor's mansion. They were quickly guarded and brought to safety. From a distance the Mayor watched the collapse of the Light Witch's mansion with joy. His hope resided in the fact she had been overtaken, and he would now be the one left in charge. The willful ignorance the Light Witch let spread across her city caused a detriment in them all. No one knew of the real trouble her fall would bring.

     Ladieta's followers were not depleted, but they were leaderless. Jarus' survival did give them someone to turn to, but he was far from having the answers they needed. There was one saving grace, and it resided in the weight Jarus carried back to his home. After a few feeds, Demini was beginning to heal, but it would be a process to completely recover from the destruction her body took. Barely coherent, Demini struggled to even stay conscious. Jarus lurked in the shadows making it back to the safety of the house he was abandoning just a day earlier. They would both find refuge in the hidden area underneath his home used to keep Ladieta hidden for years.

     The Light Witch, Yasmina, and Austesh arrived at the old witch's coven, trying to put the carnage behind them. Anxiety dug its claws into the Light Witch's brain. Wrapped up in all of the chaos, she was unable to fully grasp all the loss she had just encountered. She gave light to the cave system, and took time away to gather all of her thoughts. When she was finally alone, she fell to her knees hard, covering her face with her hands. Tears ran through her fingers, washing away the dirt from her skin. Her wail echoed throughout the halls.

     Yasmina and Austesh made eye contact at the sound of the Light Witch releasing her grief. Their eyes only met for a moment. Both of them were now processing the night's events with some sort of clarity. Standing in the heart of the cave, Yasmina turned from Austesh and focused on the throne before her. Austesh took one more look over his shoulder before walking away from the area. Once she was alone, Yasmina took steps toward the throne reflecting off of her wide eyes. She was finally here. Her goal was achieved, and it was now only a matter of time before she could take her rightful place. At the top of the stairs she spun around, and gracefully sat down. With perfect posture, she put her back against the throne, held her chin high, and looked out into space ahead. She felt, her time arrived.

     Austesh walked down the dimly lit hallway, away from Yasmina. His heart was torn. Self-deprecation began gnawing at his soul. So many of his actions led to the end result he found himself in at the moment. Thoughts of his father made him sick. Still lost in infatuation of Yasmina, Austesh allowed himself to forget the harm she brought on his father. He sacrificed a lot to help the woman who ruined his life. To help with his doubt, he thought of where everything took him. He was now at the threshold of power. With his father still out there, maybe this power would be able to bring him back. No matter the discontent he had for Yasmina, if he played his part, he might be able to right his wrongs. Faking it, just as she did, could put him in the position of redemption.

     All of the supernatural beings involved in the mayhem of the night vanished without a trace. Vampires turned to dust, Therion transformed back into his human form, and the Light Witch remained the myth she always had been. The gates were finally opened, and the residents began to make sense of their surroundings once again. Fallen guards were given a special cemetery outside the gate. Very few soldiers were able to escape the battle uninjured. The hospital was busy for weeks recuperating the wounds of that night.

     One of the biggest wounds, one doctors couldn't fix, was the vacuum of power. Leaderless, the city fell under the control of the Mayor. Influenced by the Council, the Mayor made very few of his own choices. He felt this was finally his time to receive the curse; if he only did as they commanded. Their plan was finally being implemented without any resistance.

     A ghost of that night haunted the minds of the population. There weren't any more protests in the street. Tension was replaced with fear, and anxiety. Youthful ignorance would be the only thing to overcome the stain left behind from the supernatural war. The less anyone spoke of the events that transpired that night, the more strength the ignorance gained. There was no longer a job for Ghostwalkers; even though there were still those with the knowledge of the art; all lotus flowers had been destroyed, and there could be no more. Travel into the forest was forbidden, keeping anyone from ever stumbling on what the Light Witch was creating in the mountains. A wall was built around the Light Witch's fortress, and the land was condemned. The Mayor did everything he could to block out the past.

     Outside the wall of the condemned land, late one night, a dark cloud formed. From out of the cloud, a black stagecoach, being pulled by an invisible force, exited from the spiritual realm. When the wheels slid to a stop, the side door flew open. A tall slender man, dressed in a dark suit with a long black coat, placed his shiny black shoe on the street. He stepped to the side, and extended out his hand back toward the doorway. Out of the dark confines, a glove of the finest black materials took his hand, and used it for support. The bottom of her dress escaped from inside before her body did. In fabric foreign to the city, the woman would have stolen the eye of any local. She wore a veil, and hid underneath the shadow of her wide brimmed hat. Once she was out of the way, he repeated his actions, and another lady exited. She was dressed alike the other woman, but her designs were different, and unique to her personality. When they all stood on the street, the man snapped his fingers, and a cloud engulfed the stagecoach, taking it out of the realm.

     The man ran his fingers through his long hair as he looked over the wall. "What have they done, ladies? What, have, they, done?"

     "Nothing that hasn't happened before," said one of the women.

     "Yes, but we're to have perfected it by now. Why is this always happening," he said.

     "You give them too much knowledge without supervision," said the other woman. "They always just make a mess of things. Ignorance. That's the key. I keep telling you."

     "It's just terrible for it to exist, and not be appreciated."

     "You're too much of a romantic...Now, let's get this started."

     The man steps toward the wall, and waves his hand across the surface. A cloud extends out from the ground and they all walk into it. On the other side of the wall, they all exit, and stand on the condemned land. One of the women walk ahead, extending out her arms. She focuses on the energy flowing around her. When she locates the strong surge of force, she approaches with caution. Kneeling down to the ground, she digs her fingers into the dirt as the other two approach.

     "It's here."

     She stands back up, and they form a triangle around the area. Using a combined force, they tear at the ground, unearthing what they came to find. The makeshift coffin rises from the ground, and they place it beside them. With a little force they open the top, and stare down at a hibernating Pilo.

     "What, have they done," he asks.

     "No, the question is...what are we going to do with it?"