ACROSS THE GRID

For this piece, Wicca delves into the world of drows with fashion, places to visit and a story of fiction.

The night was not good for hunting, but the Beast now had a taste of Drow blood – a child’s blood. The youngling had wandered away from the safety of her home when she came to a bloody and violent end.

It was bad enough the Beast took the feed animals for itself; now it would come after the villagers, too. Each day its tracks grew closer and now that it boldly attacked a child, there would be no safety until the Beast was killed.

The village Elders had called forth the three most experienced and fiercest hunters to slay the Beast. They were to begin their quest in the deep, lush forests south of the village after daybreak. This is where the hunting was the richest and where the child was found.

The Elders were wrong. The hunters would not find the Beast there. It was clever. It was cunning. Yes, tracks were found in the forest. They were easy to follow and led into the dense growth where no Drow had traveled. The hunters would never find the Beast there.

Though only a novice of two seasons, Vi’Cah had proven herself as a good hunter; almost as though she could feel and understand her prey and anticipate their actions. But the Elders refused to listen. The hunters told her she was too inexperienced for this hunt and she must remain behind.

So in the cloak of darkness and rain, Vi’Cah defied the Elder’s decree and slipped unseen from the village. She did not head south, but west toward the desolate and treacherous mountains where no life could survive. That is where she will find the Beast.

The climb up the mountain was difficult in the darkness. There was no trail since no Drow ever traveled here and the rain-slicked rocks made footing hazardous. Yet Vi’Cah endured. Just as Vi’Cah reached the third plateau, her foot slipped and she lost her grip. She would have plunged to her death had a hand not grabbed her wrist and pulled her to safety. When Vi’Cah reached the ledge, she looked up to see a strange Drow wearing a costly cape with a deep hood covering her face.

Nodding her thanks for the rescue, for even a whisper might alert the Beast of her presence, Vi’Cah rose to her feet beside the stranger. Even in the darkness, Vi’Cah sensed the stranger was a powerful warrior. A great owl sat perched upon the warrior’s shoulder; its eyes glowing with an eerie and unnatural light.

Vi’Cah knew the warrior was here to hunt the Beast and she was about to protest when a voice stopped her.

“The kill is yours, young Vi’Cah.”

The words were not spoken from the warrior’s lips, but came from inside Vi’Cah’s very being. She opened her mouth to ask the many questions that filled her soul when Vi’Cah heard and felt a rumble so deep it could only come from one source – the Beast.

With a steady and practiced hand, Vi’Cah loaded an arrow on her bow and pulled back the taut string. She was strong, so Vi’Cah could hold the arrow in positionfor hours if needed, waiting for the perfect shot.

It was the smell that hit Vi’Cah first; the putrid odor of rot and decay. Then she saw movement from a large cavern on the side of the mountain. The Beast moved with infinite indifference; it knew a lesser prey was close at hand. The razor-toothed maw shifted into what Vi’Cah could only describe as a malevolent smile as it stared at her. Predator and prey, but which was which?

The Kingdom of Taure Ru-Medieval Fantasy- Taure ru

A childhood memory of a drawing in an ancient scroll flashed through Vi’Cah’s mind. A Beast older than time and so powerful it had no name. And no known way to kill it. Many had died in the attempt.

Beside her, though well armed, the warrior had not drawn a weapon. The strange Drow appeared unaffected by the Beast’s presence. She did not flee either, but remained motionless beside Vi’Cah.

“You must clear your mind and heart of vengeance, Vi’Cah. It is the only way to kill the Beast.”

Once again the warrior’s voice filled her being and Vi’Cah felt serene tranquility consume her body. Vi’Cah knew she would only have one shot; for even though she was fast, there would be no time to load a second arrow. A blade would be useless in close combat. Vi’Cah would be dead if the Beast was allowed that near.

Vi’Cah filled her lungs with air and held it there. She was ready. The arrow was released and found its target – the center of the Beast’s snout. For what seemed an eternity, the Beast just stood motionless; red, angry eyes still locked on Vi’Cah. Then the light faded from the orbs and the Beast dropped to the ground. Dead.

“Well done, Vi’Cah.”

When Vi’Cah turned to speak to the stranger, her eyes widened with awe before she dropped to her knees and bowed her head in respect. The warrior had pulled the hood from her head; the Goddess Eilistraee stood before her.

Vi’Cah heard stories of the Goddess of hunting walking among her people, but they were only stories told to children at bedtime. Never had Vi’Cah imagined them true.

“Rise, young Vi’Cah. Your village awaits their Warrior.”

When Vi’Cah rose and opened her eyes, she was no longer on the plateau high above, but at the base of the mountain with the Beast at her feet. Eilistraee had disappeared as mysteriously as she had appeared. Was it a dream or a waking vision? It did not matter. Vi’Cah had killed the Beast. She did not feel victorious. She did not feel elated. She felt … empty. The death of the Beast could not bring back the child.

It could not bring back her daughter.