I quickly focused my mind on my surroundings. I could feel my ability to sense my surroundings was diminished, and penetrating the fog was almost impossible. Shit, I was somehow in the creature's home turf.
My senses warned me. A tingling feeling down my spine told me something was watching me. I suppressed the urge to turn around and focused on the periphery of my vision. I could see a presence in the fog on the edge of my eyesight. A shadow that did not seem to be made by the constant random movement of the mist, a shape that persisted in the swirling.
For now, it was observing me, but it would probably try something soon.
I needed to think fast. Whatever it was, it should not be able to pull my consciousness out of my body, and certainly not without me noticing. Entering my dreams was also not likely. Thanks to a ritual I underwent in childhood, entering my dreams was suicide for anyone who tried.
Then, there was one option left—an illusion. I’m actually standing in my room, and the spell is tricking my mind into believing I’m in the creature's trap.
Not bad, I relaxed a bit now knowing what was happening. The illusion was extremely well made, how it was cast was another problem to solve, but now was not the time. I could see the presence get a bit closer to the edge of the fog, probably preparing for an attack.
Suddenly, a sharp movement from the fog as two shadowy spikes went for my knees, aiming to maim me. The projectiles were quick, and they made contact before I could do anything. Blood spattered as I looked down at my mangled knees.
It was the creature’s mistake. The illusion would work if the subject panicked and sank further into it, believing in anything they saw. Then, mental damage would accumulate until all but a husk was left. But the ghost picked the wrong opponent for that strategy, probably the worst in the world.
“Impressive spell work, bad execution, though,” I said, toward the presence, using black speech. “If you can't convince me that I'm hurt, I won't be hurt, my shadowy friend,” I informed the creature calmly, but I got no response in return.
Well, it doesn’t matter. If the subject panics, the subject can be hurt, but if the caster panics...
“I know you can speak. So, since this is our first meeting, let me give you a free lesson. It’s very dangerous to keep a subject in an illusion after he realizes what it is.” I gave it a creepy smile. “Let me show you why,” I said, extending my consciousness, trying to sense the connection made for the spell to work. Then, I started pressing my own mental energy into everything around me, corrupting things, overtaking the spell, and slowly creeping towards the mind on the other side.
The floor and furniture around me started to rot and twist into weird, otherworldly shapes. I could feel the creature panic. It tried to drop the whole spell, but it was too late. I was anchored.
Then, I let the ink on my hands float to the skin's surface. Like a sea monster popping its head from the water, shapes and runes started to appear on my skin. My tattoos were used for curse weaving, and I had a perfect curse in mind.
“Oh, don’t leave yet. We haven’t gotten to know each other,” I said playfully. It should be panicked enough to be convinced that I could hurt it. My fingers danced in a couple of runic shapes as I chanted Decay and put my hand into the fog.
The previously white mist started to turn greenish black, and the thing howled in pain. I was right. I was hoping that maybe I could destroy its consciousness now, but then the floor around me cracked, and I was back in my room, sitting on my bed.
Running by cutting off your own tail, huh? Smart.
I managed to injure its mind slightly, but it was quick, and I didn’t manage to put any permanent curse on it.
One might think that getting my opponent hurt before the battle was great, and it was, but not all was good news. The thing picked the wrong spell for the target, but it was capable of more complicated magic, which suggests very high intelligence. Moreover, it was capable of magic outside of its lair, which means that it should be able to do much more inside of it.
Also, how was the spell cast? I doubt it sneaked up on me or had any spell component that would lead the magic to me. The fight might not be as straightforward as I believed it would be.
I went to check the house, but as I walked out of my room, it hit me. A smell of burning hair and clocks frozen at 2.34 a.m.
The next day was it. Time to deal with the ghost.
I was planning on going after midday. If the ghost made use of its intelligence, it wouldn’t show itself when the sun was still up. And even if it did, playing whack-a-mole with a ghost was not on my to-do list. So I started to get ready to move around two hours before sunset.
Before me lay a black robe, screaming Fantasy wizard. Unlike normal decorated ones with wide sleeves, this one was a simple battle robe. It had silver details and a series of runes around the seams, a bit more material on the chest area, and tight sleeves ending a bit before the wrist, a mark of a curse weaver.
After putting on the robe, I locked my black skin belt around my waist and started adding weapons to its many holders. I liked this part. It made one feel like Batman or an action hero in an arming montage.
Next to my right hand was a black obsidian dagger with a white bone handle, ready to be pulled out. There were a series of bottles at the back and a couple of talismans in holders on my left, with the chains sticking out of the cases for easy access.
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And finally, the most important part of the get-up. A black and gold staff with an arcane focus at the top and five smaller crystals underneath it. Each smaller one represented a spell to be instantly cast without any components at the speed of a thought.
Three spells of the first circle and two of the second. The whole thing was almost my height and made from black wood with golden vein-like lines going through it. There was a sculpted skull at the top of the staff, looking like it belonged to an elk, but smaller, a size more fitting for the weapon. In the forehead of the skull sat a red crystal with a black center, which was the arcane focus, a basic tool for quickening the casting process.
I was really putting the ‘dark’ in ‘dark wizard’.
I double-checked everything and activated the staff as it snaked around my wrist, shrinking and bending until it looked like a bracelet.
Finally, considering last night's incident, I ensured all my mental shields were up and that the robe's mind-boosting effect functioned properly. I still did not know how it materialized in my apartment. The plan was to get rid of it and then check the house for an explanation. Whatever it was, I’d confirmed I could hurt it in the illusion, so I was going to take the risk and fight it, especially since I could not let something that could sneak up on me like that just walk around.
I arrived at the place after about fifteen minutes. It was a typical suburban American house. Two levels, porch and lawn in front. The house was well taken care of, the only thing suggesting it was empty was the newspapers lying on the porch. I looked through the window and immediately recognized the place. It was the same as the one in the dream slash illusion.
I entered and looked around to get to know my surroundings. I had about thirty minutes of daylight, and I could already feel a presence in the house, but as I thought, the ghost was hiding, waiting for the sun to recede. And I was waiting for the same thing. I made my way to the porch. Uncorking one of the bottles, I dipped three fingers in the red substance and began writing a seal on the front doors.
Once I closed them again, only one of us would be getting out of that house alive. It was a bit excessive, but I didn’t know how the creature functioned or what its limits were, and I didn't fancy a chase through the streets with a ghost-like creature.
After around 10 minutes, with my work done, I stood there looking at the setting sun. The sky was turning a deeper shade of red as the shadows lengthened, overtaking the world from the grasp of light.
I raised my left hand towards my heart and felt my pulse. It was a steady but loud beating, slightly faster than usual. A smile made its way to my lips. Those were the moments I was living for, the moments when I remembered that I was alive, really alive, and not just mindlessly going through the motions of the same routine. I raised my eyes, and finally, the shadows covered the final tile of the house’s roof.
As I crossed the doors, I could feel a presence once again, but this time it was tangible, like someone standing at the edge of my sight, prompting me to look behind me. Yes, the thing was here, waiting, finally fully manifested.
I took a breath and looked at the fog slowly filling the house, rising out of nowhere.
‘It’s time to hunt,’ I thought as I heard the doors close behind me.
And with the click of the lock, the seal on the house came alive.
A delicate fog filled the house, not exactly blocking the view but making the shadows and contours a bit obscured, seeming not entirely real. It gave the house a dream-like, ethereal feeling. Also, there was the silence, the silence where you could hear your own heartbeat. It was unnatural and unnerving for anyone present, making you want to turn on a radio or music to make it disappear.
I had two possible actions. Catch the spirit in action and destroy or seal it, or find the place where it was anchored to the world. So the plan was simple, if the anchor was here, I would assume it was somewhere near the place the dude died. Strong emotions help create it, after all.
But preferably, the creature would show itself, and I could just kill it with a spell. Hopefully, it would double down on mental attacks and try to do something like reading my fears and phobias.
Once it did, I would be ready to start on the plan.
I slowly made my way through the fog towards the stairs. The floors that previously were fine now creaked with my every move.
*Bang!* A loud noise echoed right behind me, coming from the doors to the kitchen.
Anyone would take a look, but it was not my first rodeo. Instead of checking it, I immediately used one of the spell charges in the staff. Decay. A black and green, squirming ball flew out of the staff and exploded right in front of me, making some of the wood rot and wither. Just in time to see some of the shadows vibrate and adjust, retreating to their correct placements.
I couldn't feel the attack coming or the spell finding the target. My spell dispersed it, but the attacker was nowhere to be seen. The presence was still here, but also not entirely here. It didn’t have to get closer to attack, it seemed.
Wailing Armor, I cast, making a couple of hand gestures, and I could feel some energy wrapping itself around me like a wet blanket. It was not the best feeling, but it could take a direct attack, increasing my survivability.
Was the whole house a big anchor? Impossible, I would have felt it immediately. The attack originated from the shadow, but the presence didn’t strengthen.
Should I go for an exorcism right away? No, I needed some time for the exorcism, and I couldn't go through with the ritual if I could not see an attack coming. I had the vial of the blessed liquid, but no target to use it on.
‘Fuck’ I swore and activated another spell by chanting Watchers Circle to give myself some breathing room. I felt the space around me come into focus in my mind despite the fog.
Then I took one of the talismans from my belt. It was a contraption similar to a compass, but the needle was not moving. Pushing some of my magic into it activated the talisman. Now I just needed to catch just a sliver of mana belonging to the creature. Touching the compass to an attack would work, but that was a dangerous maneuver.
Deactivating the circle, I made my way towards the stairs. Two more attacks came my way from the shadows. I managed to defend against both, not using the staff this time, but I could not catch any mana, they were way too quick and unexpected.
But I noticed a pattern.
The attacks always came from the shadows. The creature probably had some connection to the shadow element, making attacks powerful but limited in variety. It was annoying because it was stealthy, but at the same time, it needed a medium.
I cast Light, and most of the shadows around were dispersed.
I went up the stairs, each step accompanied by an eerie squeaking. The portraits on the walls seemed to follow me with their hollow eyes as the fog downstairs thickened, making it look like I was walking over a white swirling abyss. Read complete version only at novᴇlfire.net
Any misstep threatened to throw me into it.