Tyler took every step with caution as he made his way through the red fog. Isla stayed close behind. Nothing felt as it should. The air was hard to breathe, the ground was far too soft, wet from the blood. The ashes in the air were warm to the touch, almost glowing from their red hue.
"Keep quiet." Isla whispered.
Tyler nodded. "What about the mansion? What was that?"
Isla shrugged. "My guess is Morrigan found a way back. She’s probably pissed at the state of the house."
Damon spoke up from behind. "Let's hope she calms down before she finds out Tyler’s alive."
Isla raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"There's no telling how she'd react. He almost got killed before, and this..." Damon tried to find the words. “This is a lot worse.”
"What's going on? Why is everything red?" Tyler asked.
Damon shook his head. "No clue. I've never seen this before."
Static lingered in the air. Every spell added to the pollution, like fallout. The more spells you cast, the more static remains afterward. Tyler found it hard to think. He could feel the spells being cast, but couldn't determine where they originated, which direction they moved, or where their intended target was. He tried to use the crack, snap, and electric hum from spells to get an idea, but they echoed in the red mists, making sound just as useless as the static in isolating the direction of potential danger.
The fog flowed like an ocean. Every push and pull from cast spells formed currents, forcing the sea of vapor to react. The mist felt cold as it brushed across Tyler's skin. He watched the mists gather and disperse. It looked like it was breathing. He turned to a bubbling sound on his left. The current in the fog pulled toward it. Isla grabbed him, pulling him out of the way by his shirt, and throwing him to the ground.
The current changed, reversing its flow. As Tyler was thrown aside, a blood-red spike, or possibly a spear cut through the air, narrowly missing him. No screams followed, but Tyler watched as the force behind the spear carried the mist with it, clearing the fog in a large area around them.
Tyler looked for the spear's source. Several women in red stood on the edge of the clearing in the mist. When they realized who they aimed for, they looked uneasy.
Tyler felt static build up behind him. He turned and saw a second spear fly through the air. It shot overhead, carrying a stream of red fog behind it. All the women dodged out of the way, save for one.
The javelin pierced her chest, and she began screaming. Not from pain, but in anticipation for what was to come. The spear appeared to shrink, breaking and embedding itself into the woman's body. She tried to rip the spear out, but the act sped up it's invasion. It sought to hide under her skin, and kill from the inside out.
She convulsed as another woman rushed to her side and hovered her hand over the wound. She drew the spear out, threw it away, and pulled blood from the red mist around them to heal the wound.
Tyler heard an earsplitting wail. It didn't sound human. He jumped up, and looked in all directions, unable to determine where it came from. The fog closed in around them, spilling back into the clearing with a slow and steady crawl.
Isla pushed Tyler forward. "Fuck it, We gotta go."
Damon, along with the other prisoners, were already making their way to the edge of the clearing. Tyler followed Isla, catching shadows moving in the mist. The Ladies-in-waiting pursued, or perhaps they were running from the same thing.
They reached the edge of the clearing, knee-deep in the mist. A form appeared in front of them, the fog billowing off its frame. It was taller, and its hulking size forced them to stop.
Damon stumbled back, Isla turned to run in the opposite direction, but Tyler couldn't help but stare.
As the fog cleared, so too did Tyler's view. He saw a complete picture: a humanoid with no visible face and vaguely feminine features. It's upper body was obscured by impossible shapes unfolding in fractals of countless arms, flowing rivers of red, and endless weaves of red hair.
Tyler felt lost in shock. The very presence of such a creature spat in the face of everything he knew. In an instant, his will to fight faded. Even with what power he had, how could he fight something so beyond him? He couldn't even look at it without shaking, without desperately seeking to follow the outline of its shifting form.
He couldn't tear his eyes away, couldn't turn to run, and could barely muster the will to breathe. At first, the image reminded him of Morrigan's description of The Maiden, but it was different, twisted, and half formed.
If it wasn't the maiden herself, what could this monster be? Tyler thought, then paused to ponder a more pressing question. Monster?
"Don't fucking touch me," Isla screamed. Tyler turned and found one of ladies-in-waiting in front of him. There were ten of them now, each wrestling guns away from and forcing his allies to the ground.
The woman in front of Tyler reached out and grabbed him. He tried, but couldn't resist, the woman having linked her veins with his. She took control of his body, and he sat where he stood like an obedient puppet. The others did the same, lined in a row as if on display.
Tyler felt his body move on its own, condensing the static to his thumb and snapping his fingers. He felt the static pulse over the field, unable to make out any details due to the fallout and mist. The creature stepped forward. Despite its size, it had a remarkably light step. The nails on its elongated fingers were weapons of precision. It was agile, graceful even.
Tyler heard a maddening scream, angry and beyond consolation. Tyler recognized the voice. Were they trying to lure Morrigan out? You can't identify the person static belongs to. Am I meant to be bait, or a target? The thought hurt more as time passed. Tyler hadn’t seen Morrigan in over a week. It’d be a shame for their reunion to end in his murder.
Tyler tried to internalize the static. He knew she couldn’t find him if he held it in. The ladies in waiting noticed, but before they could act, Morrigan emerged from the mist. Tyler expected a murderous grin, but she appeared with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw.
She stepped into the clearing, held her hand out, and the fog spiraled toward her. The fog condensed into an stream of blood, pooling at her feet. Three spheres of blood rose from the pool, straightening into red spears. With the flick of her wrist, the spears thrusted forward, one meant for the creature, and the other two targeted the ladies in waiting.
The creature dodged the spear. It darted forward, so fast it was hard to follow. The ladies in waiting didn’t see the attack. Blood doused tylers face as the spear found its target, puncturing a woman’s back and protruding from her chest. The other spear collided with another, puncturing a clear hole through her skull.
Tyler felt the grip on his body loosen. The cultist tried to remove the spear from her chest, but screamed as she fell to the ground. The others dodged a series of red spears sent their way, joining the creature in the fight.
Morrigan didn’t run. She didn’t walk, but seemed to glide on the blood at her feet. It moved with her, adding speed and agility to her every movement. She skated across the clearing. With every inch traveled, the pool of blood grew.
The cultists hurled spells of all kinds, but the blood reached up in tendrils to block and deflect each one. Morrigan responded with spells of her own, spheres rising from the blood and coagulating into spikes before thrown.
The creature kept close to Morrigan despite her speed. It reached out, tried to knock her off the flow of blood at her feet, and missed. The creature swung again. Morrigan dipped the tip of her cane in the blood, and lightly tapped the creatures hand.
The creature tripped, rolling over as it cried out. A red flame sparked, surrounding its hand and eating away the soft flesh. Morrigan turned her attention to a lady in waiting. Morrigan tapped her on the chest with the cane, and another flame burst forth. It consumed the body as the woman screamed. When the fire faded, it left nothing behind save for a pile of red ashes.
The creature stood once more, leapt forward to the ashes and cut into its own arm with its nails. The blood poured over the ashes, absorbing them. Something rose from the blood, a hand without flesh or muscle. The skeletal figure began to form nerves, tissue, and finally skin as it crawled away.
Tyler didn't watch in horror, he watched with fascination. The same woman who burned to ashes crawled from the blood, screaming at the trauma of a second birth. When she managed to compose herself, she stood, and continued the fight. When Morrigan noticed, it only seemed to make her anger grow.
Tyler looked to the woman on the ground in front of him. She dropped her rifle as she writhed in pain. Her body twitched, convulsing in all directions as something tore her apart from within. She gave him a pleading look, arching her back and clutching her chest.
Tyler saw something poking from under the skin on her arm. The blood from the spear passed through the highways and byways of her body, so that every single joint filled with barbs. It began as a small bump. It pierced through, a red barb forming in her veins and jutting from the skin. Several more appeared, somehow not allowing her to die.
He couln’t watch it any more. Tyler reached forward, grabbed the rifle, and aimed for her head. Pulling the trigger was a struggle, a moment he couldn’t come back from. He could feel Isla watching, her hand rising and falling as if to stop him, but unsure if she should. He could still feel the woman, their veins connected in the static. She could have stopped him, even with the pain she felt, and he realized it when the gun fired.
The connection was gone. Her body went limp, and an eruption of red mist sprang from the body as the barbs shattered. He felt something, something she wanted him to feel. Spells cracked around him. Screams of both pain and anger soared through the clearing. He didn't turn to see. He watched the body as the barbs continued their work. He should have felt that pain. She buried it, kept the pain to herself, and instead forced her sadness upon him.
She was distraught at what the cult was doing, nearing a breaking point. The cult was more than divided. The cult was nearing civil war. For a brief moment, as he pondered the possibilities, he heard music. Somewhere in this twisted field stood a musician playing a violin. It was gone as fast as it began.
Isla placed a hand on his shoulders, “Don’t dwell.” Tyler failed to notice he was crying, a nausea growing in the pit of his stomach. “Turn away, Tye.” Isla said, moving her hand to the center of his back.
“Why aren’t we helping her?” Tyler said, wiping the tears from his eyes and nodding in Morrigan’s direction.
“I don’t think you’re paying attention,” Isla said. “Look at this shit.” She gestured to the surrounding horrors. “This is not our element. No spell we could use would stand a chance.” Tyler never thought he’d see fear on Isla’s face, yet here it was, plain as day. “These are some of the most powerful women on the planet. Discordians do not excel on the front lines.”
Tyler watched as another Lady in waiting was revived by the creature. He turned his attention to Morrigan. She looked sick, lightheaded. The fighting was wearing her out.
The creature lunged its hand forward, skewered Morrigan through the chest, and tossed her away. It rushed to her body, slammed its fists down on her over and over. Tyler could almost feel the bones crushing under the weight.
Tyler’s eyes went wide. He screamed, ran forward, but felt Isla and Damon holding him back. The creature stood tall over Morrigans body, the form folding in on itself to reveal an old woman with fading red hair, Gemma. The woman coughed, violently. The ladies in waiting swarmed around her, offering aid. She brushed them away with a wave of her hand then pointed to Morrigan. The cultists obeyed. They picked up the body and followed Gemma into the fog.
Very cool. A lot of interesting chapters and you do well to lay out the difference between the members of the cult with the cultist that attaches herself to Tyler. The magic system is interesting here as there's so much to consider with this. I feel like you probably need to renovate a few of the descriptions to show how Morrigan was consumed by her hatred as this seemed more like a normal fight for her. You also don't really allude to her being affected by the passion at all. Not sure if this is intentional or not, but it felt a little bit out of place as Morrigan was meant to be consumed by the passion in the previous chapter from her perspective. Maybe do something similar to what Gemma did? At first, I thought that the creature might have been a consumed Morrigan, but instead, it was there to kill Morrigan. This juxtaposition made Morrigan feel all the more human, which is counterintuitive, as I've mentioned. Conversely, the fighting was really cool. I liked the utilization of the Scarlet Arts as well as the conflict between the Ladies-in-Waiting and Morrigan. It's clear that the only one in the cult who could truly stand against Morrigan is Gemma, which makes the divide even more interesting as it's between the two most powerful members of the cult. That's about it. I would normally assume that this is the climax, but the fact that Morrigan is taken at the end of the chapter suggests that more is to come. I look forward to it, even though you posted this at like 2 am so I had to wait until morning to read it.
That's something i was worried about regarding Morrigan, The spell itself is meant to display this. I was worried the fight was lasting a bit to long. Ill add some more description to really drive home that hatred. The creature will be explained, or maybe it should be established before when Morrigan takes the pilgrimage. Ill try and fix this. So during my edits, I realized eliminating the chapters and combining a few messed with the plot a tad, and i had to make some alterations and add some scenes. There are 8 more chapters. The climax occurs in 3-4 chapters. I have some loose ends to clear up in the next chapter.