Four
The Heartless Swamp
The young warrior Micah had traversed mountains, forests and thickets with a single unyielding goal. He would gain the power to track down his sister, kill any vampire that got in his way and cure her curse.
Even the foulest soul can be redeemed became his mantra.
Eventually Micah found himself in the withered mangroves and the overgrown marshes of The Heartless Swamp.
This was a huge wilderness to search but he was determined to find the witch and become her student.
He cut his way through the vegetation as he scoured the swamp. The flies, the foul stench and the sinister noises did nothing to tire his determination.
Finally, he reached a small grove; the short-deadened undergrowth marked it as unholy ground.
In the center of the grove on a small tree stump he saw a strange young man in a black cloak meditating. Even with his eyes closed, Umbra sensed Micah's approach, and had a small dagger concealed in his sleeve.
"Maleficus!" Micah called out unaware that Umbra had already peered into his mind. "I request a favor."
"A favor from a stranger, is there anything more uncertain?" Umbra mused as he swept back his hood and approached Micah. But he could see Micah's heart was pure and sheathed his dagger. He could see the same determination in Micah's eyes that he had when he first tracked down Lady Crow.
"I know who you are," Micah replied, much to Umbra's surprise. Even in the wilderness of The Heartless Swamp word travels. "You're Lady Crow's acolyte."
"Yes, I am Umbra of the wilds," Umbra sized up the traveler, they were the same height, similar build, but Micah's blue eyes and blonde hair were a stark contrast to Umbra's black mess of hair and brown pupils.
Umbra had grown weary of travelers, avoiding them as best he could, but for some reason Micah intrigued him.
A raven landed on Umbra's shoulder. Cassius often took this form to avoid detection. "What do you think?" Umbra whispered to the shapeshifter.
"He looks too pure," Cassius crowed. Micah glared at the raven making Cassius flinch.
"I think he has potential," Umbra assured the changeling.
"I want to be strong like you, all your powers, all your skills," Micah insisted stepping forward, reaching out his hand to shake.
Umbra scoffed, his initial impulse to turn the traveler away, but Micah's unyielding attitude changed his mind.
Seeing this dirt-encrusted traveler with naive determination reminded him of how he was not so long ago. He held up a fist surrounded in his signature blue magical fire and aimed it at Micah.
Micah had never seen blue magical fire before, but didn't even flinch. "I will see your master, and I won't take no for an answer."
Cassius was uncertain.
But Umbra was convinced. I like this guy; he has what it takes.
The maleficus and his raven companion beckoned the tired traveler forward as they departed for Lady Crow's cabin.
Later...
The dank odors of the Heartless Swamp stirred with the murky mire and animated the opaque brown waters around the nearby gnarled mangroves.
Today would be Micah's first lesson in sorcery, but not from his so-called teacher, the Malefica Lady Crow.
Instead befitting her dismissive attitude, she had pawned off the task to her apprentice Umbra to "waste his time" while she prepared for a sabbat.
But Umbra could sense something special about the new arrival.
In truth, Umbra was lonely, lacking any familial bonds with anyone besides his abrasive teacher and her disgusting familiar.
As Micah stood before him in the torn rags of his logger regalia, Umbra readied himself. He had never taught before, but knew he could do a better job than his abusive master.
His shoulder still ached from when Lady Crow dislocated it during a confrontation. She was stronger than her withered crone appearance would suggest, especially when enraged.
It was nights like that Umbra found himself sleeping outside in the rainy swamp.
Umbra took a deep breath, pleasantly surprised to see his pupil watching and listening intently. "Think of magic as drawing water from a well deep inside. We all have a well within us, beyond the reach of most people."
Micah seemed to understand the metaphor well. "Do I have a well of magic?" he inquired meekly.
Umbra placed a dirty hand on Micah's head, concentrating deeply to look inside and sense potential. "A very deep, very powerful well just waiting to be tapped."
Micah beamed, relieved at the news.
Umbra withdrew his hand for a demonstration. Stepped a few paces back in the slick mud, he closed his eyes and concentrated. Blue flames danced between his fingers, expounding quickly into a roaring blue fireball. "Our wells can be attuned for different magic. I am calling upon elemental forces," he clicked his fingers, dousing the fire. "We can also draw from the void, or the verdant realm, the heavens, or even from Hell itself."
Micah perked up at the last mention. "Did you say you can call magic from demons?"
Umbra paused for a moment. "Well, yes but most need a little help from the other side..."
Micah was confused. "So, you bargain with demons to make your well connect to Hell?"
Umbra nodded but pleaded caution when approaching such a dangerous path. He implored that they begin with the basics before they can even discuss such dangerous magic.
"Trust me, you don't want one of these," Umbra displayed the demonic brand on his hand. The wound still ached after years of enduring the initial pain. It glowed slightly sending a sting through Umbra's arm. He winced to stifle the pain.
He was still unsure if Lady Crow had a similar mark concealed on her wrinkled body, the thought of even asking was nauseating.
Changing the topic Umbra pressed on before Micah could ask another question. "You need to reach down deep. Draw upon a trauma you endured, a single powerful memory to keep you anchored."
Micah immediately thought of the anguish he felt when his sister was torn away from him and turned into a monster.
He strained, allowing his feelings to well up and his eyes gloss with emerging tears. Blood ran from his nose and his head began to ache, sweat beaded on his face.
He pushed harder, forcing himself to focus on the pain and give him the means to overcome it.
Umbra watched intently as Micah struggled, silently praying for his success.
Micah clenched his fists, his fingers pressed so deep into his palms that blood began to run between them.
His body started convulsing as he reached down deep.
And then he felt it.
Just a droplet at first in his mind, followed by a rushing pillar of power.
Cinders danced on his bloodied fingers, a strange power now drawn forth.
At first the cinders stung him, but as the power settled and his body attuned to it, he relaxed before succumbing to his exertion.
"Look down," Umbra implored his distraught pupil.
Micah slowly opened his eyes. There was no mistaking it, he was conjuring fiery cinders in both hands.
But within an instant they dissipated leaving only strange glittering flakes in the air.
"Where did they go?" Micah was more tired than confused.
"Do you see them? Mana residue, a sort of magical leftovers. Invisible to most." Umbra inquired as he remembered his first time tapping into his own well of power.
Micah could see and smell them. "They smell a bit like ash, like an extinguished fire. You are a great instructor, Umbra." Micah piled on the accolades but coughed lightly, his breath labored.
Umbra was taken back, he hadn't heard his name used so warmly in a long time. Lady Crow usually barked slurs like fool, peon or worm at him instead of his name.
Umbra was eager to present Micah as a new acolyte to his master, a potential friend in this hostile wilderness.
He would do anything to ensure Micah became an apprentice to his insolent master, Lady Crow.
"Now you need to look the part," Umbra modelled the black cloak and robe he was wearing, luckily, he had a spare. "Let's get you looking the part," he paused, "...friend."
Micah was elated at the news and equally determined to join the Crow Coven himself.
Regardless of the bad reputation of his prospective master, Umbra could feel a strong bond with his fellow disciple already.