LEGEND OF THE STRIGA {LOTS}

CHAPTER 2 * THE CURSED ONE*

“Naï! Axúdame Naï, Que non me saquen Naï. Por favor, Naï.” [Help me mother, don’t let them take me away, mother. Please, Mother.]

Most nights the stars came out at night to play in the sky, running around the moon in a shimmering happiness, however the sky tonight is completely dark without the laughter of the stars, and the gloom casting a blanket of darkness on Akeldama.

The Maior of Termagant saw this blanket of darkness as the perfect opportunity to drag a wailing ten-year-old boy out of his mother’s bosom. 

“Dicirlles Que foi un Erró Naï, non me renuncies Naï por favor.” [Tell them it was a mistake mother, don’t give me up mother please]

The ten-year-old boy cried as the Maior dragged him outside, the place he called and his mother watched with bleeding eyes. 

“The chief has requested him for trial.”

One of the Maior announced, holding the little boy by his garment as they stepped on the thresh-hold of the house. 

The little boy looked up to his mother with heavy eyes, depending all his hope on her, believing she would save him from the men taking him away from home. 

He could swear his mother loves him, even if he isn’t the favourite of the household he knew his Naï loved, and he wanted to believe that love would be his saving grace and his mother will stretch out her hands for him.

if only he knew what the next words of his mother, perhaps he wouldn’t have looked up to her with so much hope. 

“Quita o cabron, non é o meu Fillo.” [Take the bastard away, he is not my son.]

The young gasped, staring at his mother in shock.

The words that left her mouth shook him to the very core of his being, and the way her eyes held no remorse or emotion shot through him and his heart constricted. 

“Nai?”

The 10-year-old calls weakly, staring at his mother wide eyed, hoping he heard wrong or she would take back her words. 

“You are not my son. You are a demon and you killed my only son. Stop calling me Naï, I am not your mother.”

The woman he believed to be his mother screeched, spitting at him before turning her back and she walks back into the room. 

“Arrástrao, contigo.” [drag him with you]

The leader of the Maior says to the other two, holding the young boy.

As his feet dragged against the stony floor, the boy snapped out of his sheer-shock and he feel the veins in his chest tighten against his heart, squeezing it for dear life. 

His mother renounced him? The thought of her words caused the veins to squeeze his heart more, and his throat ached to release the pain building up in his neurons. 

Feeling the aching need for release, the young boy let’s go, opening his mouth as he gives way for the boiling anguish in him as he screamed. 

The Maior’s holding him let go of their grip on him to cover their ears as pain they’ve never felt before gripped their heart and the skin felt as though it would break apart with every pain filled scream that escaped the mouth of the young boy. 

The woods that held the Palloza of the dwellers in Termagant shook with vigour, and the thatched roof threatened to rip apart. 

 The scream woke sleeping babies, and mothers covered the ears of their young. The witches of Termagant have never heard a loud cry filled with so much pain, sorrow and betrayal before. 

The leader of the Maior quickly casts a silent spell on himself and the others, shielding them from whatever power the young power was projecting through the scream and he instructed the men holding him before to pick up again.

As they did, the boy quiets down, and the Maior’s almost sighed in relief, thinking that was the end of his display until the boy lets down another cry that forces them on their knees. 

“MOTHER!!!” 

The young boy called, crying loudly, trembling against the face of the earth.

The Maiors could swear on their lives that they saw the boy’s eyes change from natural warm blue to ghost white for a split moment and it caused cold shivers of fear running down their spine. 

It was unnatural, even for a witch, to control the change of their eye colours, even their most powerful wizard didn’t horn such powers. 

But it appears the witches of Termagant weren’t the only one that heard the boy call for his mother.

Suddenly a force pulls away the blanket of darkness cast over Akeldama, revealing the slow rise of the moon, breaking the silence of the sky.

The sudden brightness from the moon caused the Maior’s lifting their up to the sky beholding a pale crescent moon, shinning like a silvery claw. 

Despite the beauty of the moon, its sadness loomed over Akeldama as the boy cries died down.

The two Maior by his side grabbed him one more time.

Draping the hem of their garment over his mouth and they dragged him to the High wizard, ignoring the sudden appearance of the crescent moon in the middle of the third quarter and the rising from the west. 

The Maiors hurried down the spiral rocky stairs caved out of cave walls, leading to the bottom of the Coven-Lugar where most meetings take place with the high chief and older Maiors or trials ruled or deliberated over.

Seven Befana Maiors stood each behind the seven stone carved sculpture of Actaeon, the stag horned god a classic syncretic deity of the witches, with their capes covering their faces. 

The guard Maior holding the boy drops him in the middle of the silver line pentagram without and they take five steps back away from the Actaeon.

“Bring forth the censer and the chalice.”

The High Wizard instructs, taking his seat on the altar as he awaits the leading Maior who walks past what looked like book shelves but carved out of stone, with neatly cut out symmetric rolls and columns, holding different antique and scriptures. 

The Maior walks out with the censer and chalice in hand, walking to the stone head sitting a few feet away from the alter, with candles burning without cease on it. 

The Maior, knowing what to do next, prepares the censer, walking over to the boy crouching in the pentagram and he orbits the burning incense over the boy’s head and body. 

An action done to purify the accused before their Trials begin, the witches of Termagant believes it cleanses their beings of any form of impurity. 

After the third orbit of the incense around the boy, the Maior, fills the chalice with liquid running out through a hollow passage in the rock. 

He passes the chalice to the chief wizard who conjures a spell into the liquid, giving it back to Maior, and the Maior walks over to the boy, forcing him to drink from the chalice. 

“ICARUS VARDR HREIDMAR, YOU HAVE DRANK FROM THE HORN OF TRUTH, HENCEFORTH YOU ARE COMPELL TO TELL NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH TONIGHT AND DISPEL YOUR HIDDEN DESIRES.”

After saying this the Maior takes a step away from the pentagram, walking over to stand beside the throne and the High Wizard clear his throats. 

“Stand on your feet and face your jury.”

The High Wizard says voice quivering as he spoke and the boy without protests stands on his feet eye boring his into that of the High Wizard who looks away with difficulty. 

“As we all aware, we bring Icarus before us the Maior Jury for committing murder against his kind.”

One of the Befana Maior says, looking to the others for confirmation, and they all answer with a chorused yes. 

“Although, every witness and evidence brought before the Befana’s points you out as guilty, this trial serves as your only chance to prove your innocence.”

“If the reasons behind your act of murder are relatable with no intent to kill, but happened due to circumstance. The Jury would tamper justice with mercy and serve you a lesser punishment as a lesson for your wrongdoing.”, 

The Befana says, one after the other, and Icarus nods at every word. 

“Icarus, do you have anything to say about killing your playmates?”

The oldest Bafana asks, and the boy turns his head to the voice.

“It was only trying to defend myself, I didn’t mean to kill anyone.”

Icarus says, sniffing as he revisited the incident that brought his young self to this point.

“Self defence?, eye witness told us some boys, tried stopping you from fighting with your brother and you struck them to death.”

“I didn’t. Mother wanted me to go out with kids but I refused. I hate going out with them, because they don’t like me, they say I am a klutz.”

Icarus tries explaining and one of the Befana cuts him off. 

“Is that why you killed them? Because they make fun of you?.”

“No, I never mind them. I didn’t want to go out. Mother forced me to. Brother started it first. He always hit me when the kids are out to play, and the other kids would join. Brother and his friends, dragged me away into the woods after beating me, they tied me to a tree. Brother said they would leave me there, for Captador de nenos to eat me and they would tell mother that I stole and ran to Sottolunare. It scared me, I didn’t want to get eaten by the child catcher. I just wanted to escape.”

Ten years old, Icarus explained, shaking at the memory of the incident, how he had desperately wanted to escape the three of his brother and fear tied him to, how his body trembled when he heard they would leave him out in the woods alone. 

“So you killed them with magic.”

The older Befana affirms, and Icarus shakes his head. 

“I didn’t do that, I didn’t mean to. I swear I didn’t mean to.”

Icarus wailed, hoping they would listen to him, believe him, he told to the High Wizard with teary eyes.

“Please father, tell them I didn’t mean to, tell them you believe me.”

Icarus pleads with his father, and High Wizard Olephiar sighs, looking at his second son. Icarus might be young but in Akeldama, they teach every child the law from the first time they learn to say their first words. Parents recited the laws of the three kingdoms to every child like a mantra, and it sticks with them as they grow up.

Icarus has witnessed the treatment murderers get in Akeldama and Termagant and the young boy doesn’t wish any of that execution type on himself. 

“I’m sorry, son, there is nothing I can do about this, until you’re proven otherwise not guilty. You killed your elder brother, Icarus. It is devastating for your mother at the moment.”

Chief Olephiar says to his son, shaking his head as a sign of resignment. He loves his son, but the current situation is beyond what he can control. 

The people of Termagant already know about this, since the incident witches in the kingdom avoided Icarus like a plague. 

“I loved brother father, I didn’t mean to. Please believe me.”

Icarus pleads, crying as he rubbed his fragile hands together for mercy.

“It would have been a lot easier if the only victim was your brother, Icarus you murdered five kids, at once without even lifting a finger. That scares the entire kingdom. The parents of the deceased boys cry for revenge. I want to know how you did it? How do you burn five boys to ashes in the blink of an eye without raising a finger, including your blood brother?”

Chief Olephiar asks, staring at his son, hoping there was a way for him to save the boy, but the chief wizard knew better. 

“I don’t know how it happened. I was thinking of a way to escape, then I started getting scared. They hurt me. It made me wish I wasn’t weak. I wanted them to disappear from my life forever. I only thought of it and when I lift my eyes, I heard their screams and they turned to ashes. “

Icarus confesses, even if he didn’t want to. Drinking from the horn of truth had already placed a compulsion on him to speak nothing but the truth. 

His confessions caused murmurs to erupt amongst the Maiors present as they whispered to each other. Anyone who walked into the Lugar at the moment would immediately sense the fear radiating within the cave. 

“That is murder with intent, High Wizard.”

One Befana speaks up, causing Chief Olephiar to raise his head.

“And he is also guilty for using dark magic.”

Another Maior adds to the claim of the first one. Icarus shook his head, looking at his father with pleading eyes. 

“His crimes are not one to overlook because he is your son. Those kids died in the worse kind of way My Lord justice needs to be served.”

The third Befana speaks, holding a staring competition with the chief who sighed. He lost his first son, now he has a duty to serve, and that duty requires him condemning his second son to death. 

“Icarus, do you know what happens to the soul of a witch that dies by burning with fire either naturally or conjured?”

Chief Olephiar asks, looking at his son with a broken heart.

“No, father.”

Icarus answers, casting his head down. They already condemned the young boy to death, and he knows even without the final decree. 

“Their soul is; lost forever. They can never transcend to our ancestors. Your brother and those boys, you condemned their soul to eternal damnation. They no longer exist in this lifetime, not in the next nor with our ancestors. There is no reparation for that son.”

Chief Olephiar explains, and Icarus nods as he weeps silently. 

“He is a threat to us all, dark magic is forbidden Termagant, this should terrify us, how did he master dark magic enough to horn such powers.”

The fourth Befana says, causing another uproar of murmurs in the Lugar until the Maior standing on the right-hand side of the Chief speaks up.

“The boy didn’t learn it. It is a curse.”

“What do you mean Maior Rourke, that my son is, cursed?”

Chief Olephiar questions and Maior Rourke turned to him.

“My Lord, I read about the curse of the Lúa gibosa minguante in the scrolls of old times. I believe there is a prophecy stipulating the curse falls upon a pure soul that cries for vengeance. As I have read, the Lúa gibosa minguante will slowly shrink the light of a worthy soul replacing it with darkness that would bring an end to everything.”

Maior Rourke says surprising the High Wizard who blinks several time as he stared at his son, ever since the incident the wizard has tried nonstop to make sense of how his ten years old boy possessed such power, when witches his age are, considered infants and not allowed to practise spells until they are twelve. 

“I know about the Lúa gibosa minguante and if Icarus is the cursed one he is a danger and threat to us all you have to make the right call, your honour.”

The high chief sighed as he closed his eyes. This is his son, how do they expect him to sentence his own son to death. 

Chief Olephiar knows without a doubt that the Befana’s are right. Still, his heart can’t deal with the thought of killing his own son.

“This is a tough call for me as a father and leader who needs to do right by his people and judge fairly.”

Chief Olephiar says, staring at the Befanas then he looked to his son

“I lost one of my sons already, and I cannot sentence my second son to death. I cannot do that, but I am the one whom every coven in Termagant looks up to and I must serve justice.”

Chief Olephiar says as he stands on his feet, holding the staff of Elements that implement a final verdict.

“Icarus Várdr Hreidmar, we find you guilty of murder by using black. I henceforth banished you from the land of Termagant and the neighbouring surrounding it. If anyone sees you near the kingdom, he or she can harm you if they will. We will escort you out of the kingdom at first light and you shall your not return. This is my verdict.”

Chief Olephiar says, hitting the staff to the ground, and he marches out of the Lugar up the spiral stairs while Icarus wailed and called for his father in sorrowful tears.