The Reborn Witch had a nice 'Tea Time' with the Dragon Queen today
Chapter 65: Bloodhound’s Funeral

Chapter 65: Bloodhound’s Funeral

Black Bloods splurted from the runed soils, splatters of greives, whispers, regrets and hatred tainted muds and coiled the ungrown flowers, snuffing out any future just as theirs were denied a fitting end. Adil narrowed her silvery eyes, trembling with a hint of shock, as her roots coiling before lunging to silence the chant she was all too familiar with.

"I shed the mantles of mercy and honor."

The pooled bloods surged, tainting before drowning the the roots, the malice too heavy as the barks slumped down, Manasseh’s eye tranquiled as she stretched her hands, the leylined blues coursing and slivering from her cheeks, down to her neck, then coil around her arms like chains.

"I cast away paths for decays and haunts."

The blackness answered, as it toiled and impaled into Manasseh’s palm. No pain, no comfort either, just quiet murmurs of crumbling wills and tragedies, veined blues within giggling as they annilated blackness and formed anew, her skins finally tinted black blues, as cloaks of liquided dreads draped over her arms and shoulders. No forms from the cloaks, just shadows of what had been a glory and dominance.

"So may this houndmaster laugh: A Bloodhound’s Funeral."

Shadowed hoods stretched from the cloak as it covered her peaceful expression, her thoughts ever a sea of bubbling steams the vampire willed to drown herself in, as blackened pools once again surged to answer her dying will, liquided bones clattering from the ground as they crickled, trickled, dangled, before reforming, as three hounds of black blood answered to the final duty of the last vampire noble.

The Druid’s silvery eyes shuttered, a twisted visage of her old friend’s magic bent for her greatest enemy’s vengeance, the draped hoods and grunting hounds of blackened her perception of death, a grim reaper for the one who disrespected souls.

...but not now. One day, she will pay her dues, but not now...

Green leaves fell to Adil’s shoulder, her gaze returning to stillness as roots lunged for Manasseh once again, the need to end a now unpredicatable apparent in their swiftness.

Yet Manasseh merely stood as she stretched out her hooded arm, the liquid boiled as it lunged silvers of shaded iced threads, tapping the rushing roots as the threaded tips crawled, stringed and veined frostbites, the movements halting to a sudden stop.

A slight waver in her scepter, but Adil commands as the frobitten roots spawned sharpened vines and rushed to finish the frozen roots’ journey, only to freeze right before Manasseh’s cloaked eye. The blueness slumped, and the houndmaster tilted her head from the vine to meet Adil’s cautious frame as she merely pointed.

"Claim your mourns, my bretherns."

Black hounds roared as they dashed, liquided steps drenching each footprints with inked malice. Adil clicked her tongue as with a tap of her sceptor, spikes spawned from beneath the hounds and pierced...silks, the hound’s body coiling just as their master did, each thread dripping blacks on the ashen bark. Adil’s pupils twitched as with another tap, branches pooled together for a net to snatch the hounds. Yet the bizzare coilings merely slipped through the miniscule cracks within the wooded net, as they launched themselves for Adil’s raised walls.

Teeths met roots as tars sunk in, roots flapping before dampening, revealing unstilled silvers. Adil’s right echoed footsteps as she raised another wall to meet the houndmaster’s claw. Her gaze widened as the claw sprawled frosts before snapping the roots, as another lunged for her head.

Quick thinking saved the Druid as another root launched beneath her like a jump pad, as the Druid glanced at the pouncing hounds mid-air. Gritting her teeth, she summoned rushing roots to herself as she grabbed it like a surfboard, driving herself away from the blackened onslaught before commanding orchids to be hurled.

Manasseh frowned as she clawed through the orchids, flowery poisons of whiteness spraying from the shredded pieces as it tickled her lungs. Blinking in a slight gasp, she latched onto one of her hounds and, without hesitation, bit into the liquided flesh. The Druid’s widened gaze as she landed back on the soil, following the brutality of the betrayal, as a deep breath of sorrow escaped the noble’s lips. The calm blues met silvers in suffocating inks, as the noble lunged once again with the two hounds.

...she is out of time. Sterness returned within silvers for urgency, as she gathered and gathered, all of her manas coiling from her wretched body into the roots as they once again lunged a sea of ashen greens. Her wraths for it all, the exploit of her old friend’s magic, the strengths coming from the undeserved, and most prominent...the hollowness that emptied out her vengence, all of it was carried in this one swarmed seas.

Manasseh’s eyes widened slightly, yet her blues fluttered tranquility as she pointed again, hounds lunging at the rooted seas. Tars splattered as no gaps were found, hounds yelping their last laugh as the walls slowed. The noble lunged into the air, the tarred wars curled up as they struggled to follow, before the noble stretched out her palm, and lauched another threaded silk.

Clicking her teeth, Adil drummed up the last of her will to command another wall, her eyes heaving at her vessel almost emptied of manas, the wall blocking her vision and yet....her ears perked up. Silence, everything from the rushing tides of roots to Manasseh’s frostbiting silks, nothing trembled her ears even as the frostbite retreated. Retreat? Did the vampire pull herself with the web?!

Her plump figure shook as she turned around, yet her waist already met the silken ice claw, impaling through her guts and stomach, claw on the other end as if to mock her fragility. <Silence>, the one she used against her daughter...A regretful frown, then a surfaced stillness returned to her silver pupils, as the houndmaster for the first time returned with a frown of her own.

"This is the end, Lady Adil."

"..."

Adil chuckled, her thoughts plagued and unknown to the nobled vampire as she twisted her claw, blackened-reds spilling from the wound with a slight gasp. Yet strangely, Adil merely glanced at her, for perhaps, it is not relief in her eyes but a twisted solemness and sympathy for the vampire as she neared the death’s door.

For a moment, the question ’how does revenge taste’ almost came from her mocking mouth, and yet...is it because of the children that once ran with vigors? Or Selene who once cared for this wasteland that used to be a garden? Or...perhaps it is merely the avengers’ bond as they found themselves trapped within the cycle of hatred.

And so, with what strengths she has been left with, her arm raised as she...tapped against the vampire’s arm. You have done well, the gesture trembled a disgusting sentiment to the lone vampire, as Manasseh’s expression twisted and cracked an abyssal rage. Her loneliness melded with the bonds she strangely weaved with Lady Adil, who was partly the cause of her every sacrifice, as her heartbeats drummed a vile malice to cut the avenger’s threads.

And so, she pulled out her arm as blackend-red sprayed, the silver’s stilllness finally wavering, waning like tilted roots desperate for a drop of water, as Adil collasped onto the soil, ever the only place the vampire found the druid should belong. The strange thought of her mother being buried beneath a similar soil just as Adil, Selene’s mother, coiled her lungs with a hiss, as she merely walked away without a glance, here to finish what she has started.

She reached into her chest for a black-root ball, the final piece for La Llorona runes, along with a ritual dagger from the noble houses. The vampire soverign once promised: She would lend out her death for her betrayal, but should the vampirity collude once again with humanity, find her again in her slumber, drenched with a bloodied awakening.

She arrived before a rune, the carved words pulsing red as the vampire cut her wrist, blood of a noble that is corrupted with humans fell like petals to the soil, the runed words swallowing every last drop like a child in a dessert, as a tremble of the ground called for the greater being, the wind hissing against the weeping like natures against bloods.

The vampire blinked in wonders. This is it, as bloodpools surged upwards from the runes as it collapsed into itself, molding, reshaping, coiling, swirling, then weaving liquids into a....cocoon. The cocoon is shaped round like a ball, almost like a children’s play toy, an ironic outlook considering the disaster hidden within.

Yet as Manasseh admired the irony, the ’corpse’ behind her twitched, Adil’s finger shook against the soil, breaths returning to her lungs in a renewed freshness, as her nostrils breathed in not tickles from ashes, not irons from bloods, but lushness from greens, greens that she once smelled from her sisters’ flowers and embraces a long, long time ago.

Tragedies born from roots of vengance, yet those who survive won’t merely burn, but branch off for a new beginning. The Druid closed her silvery eyes, tranquility that mirrored Manasseh’s returning to them, as lilies bloomed around her hairs, tints of greens sprouting amongst the whiteness.

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