Odder The Demon Hunter - The Blood Curse
Chapter 15: THE NAMES OF DEMONS

Odder sat at the edge of his bed drenched in sweat. Faces of goblins, monsters, and dead elves haunted his dreams. He stood, his body drifting to the window. He peered out into the scenery hoping to distract his mind from his hauntings.

Clouds drifted like phantoms in Ophelia’s blue light. Kellas had not yet risen, allowing the pale blue sun to have full sovereignty for a brief moment.

Odder spotted the old split tree. Amazing, he thought. What spell is powerful enough to keep us hidden? He closed his eyes and took in the cold brisk air. A high-pitched screech interrupted his moment of calmness. He froze with fear, but quickly composed himself, and ducked under the window. He lifted his head just above the windowsill and darted his eyes back and forth searching for danger.

“Can’t sleep, laddy?”

Odder’s pulse raced, his hair shot straight up as if he had just seen a bog witch. He jolted around. “Finkle!” he whispered in a harsh tone. “As if I don’t have enough to fear.”

“Sorry.” Finkle rubbed his eyes and yawned. “I heard you get up. I’m having a hard time sleeping too.” He walked over to the window and peeked out. “Strange creatures out during the light of Ophelia.” He pointed at several lights slithering through the brush past the split tree. “Some creatures only come out during this time.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Only if you’re senseless enough to be out alone.” Finkle yawned again. “Kellas will be up soon. Best get your rest while you can.” He climbed back into his bunk.

Odder stared out once more. Satisfied with only seeing the dead calm, he closed the wooden shutters. He made his way back into bed and climbed under the blanket. He stared at the markings on his forearm, rubbing the outlines of the symbols, and tracing the poison stained veins up his arm. His eyelids became heavy, and he fell fast asleep.

“Wake up, laddy. It’s eating time.”

Odder rolled over, pulling the sheets over his head.

“Suit yourself. Just more for me.”

The sound of small feet pattered across the floor, a door squeaked open, then slammed shut. Odder’s left eye sprung open. He lifted his nose. The aroma of fried eggs and crisp gris enticed his senses. His stomach pleaded with him to get up. He slowly opened his right eye, sat up, stretched his arms out, and exhaled a long, low-pitched groan.

At the foot of his bed was a basket filled with clean clothes. A tin filled with fresh water perched on a table across the room. Odder pulled the basket to the table. He scooped the water in his palms and immersed his face in the solace of the warm wash. Feeling somewhat revived, he cleansed the rest of his body and changed his clothes.

He stepped up to the window and opened the shutters. The bright light of the new day temporarily blinded him. His eyes adjusted and he surveyed his surroundings. The old split tree appeared harmless during the day compared to the night’s light. The vantage point from the second story allowed him to see across the field, past the marsh, and even a sliver of the Cydin Sea, which separated the elven lands from the Xenduri shadow region.

His stomach barked and bellowed. “Alright, I’ll feed you.”

He headed to the door, pulled the latch open, and rushed into the hall nearly colliding with Aimma. “Oh, sorry Aimma.” He stepped back and waved his hand. “Please, after you.”

Aimma curtsied. “Thank you.”

Odder followed her down the stairs. “Your change of clothes suits you.”

She wore a light gray blouse with a thin brown leather jacket, leather belt, and tan leather pants. Her wavy white hair curled around the sides of her face.

“Thank you. No doubt compliments of Martha.”

“And how was your sleep?” Odder asked. “Better than mine I hope?”

“Nightmares at first,” she replied, “but after a quick downing of sleeping potion, I slept like a bugbear under a stump.”

“Have anything in that bag strong enough to wake the dead?” Odder pulled his cheeks down, accentuating the dark circles under his eyes.

Aimma giggled. “There’s no help for those.” She looked in her satchel. “I do have some warung beans. I’ll mix you a drink after breakfast. It’ll help wake you.”

Martha greeted them at the base of the stairs. “Good morning. I see you found the clean clothes.” She gripped Odder’s arm and practically pulled him to the dining table. “Come, I saved you some food. It’s been so very long since we have had guests. I hope you enjoy the meal.”

“Of course,” Odder said, taking a seat.

“It looks and smells delicious,” Aimma said.

Martha grinned. Finkle was already eating a healthy portion of eggs, fried wild gris, and bread.

“Slow down Finkle,” Odder said, shifting in his chair. “You might fall off the stack of books you’re sitting on.”

Finkle pointed a dull knife at Odder. He started to mumble but choked before he could get a word out.

Odder and Aimma chuckled.

Odder looked around the room. Martha was back in the kitchen. “So where’s Karzan and Serra?”

“Oh, that old wizard is in the cellar tinkering with his potions.” Martha grabbed a plate and sat with them at the table. “He wants you to go down there when you’re done eating.” She took a bite of her bread and sip of her water. “Serra’s on the field practicing her spells.”

“I’ll be joining her,” Finkle said, after clearing his mouth with a drink. “I’m curious about her dark elven magic.”

“I’m sure you have lots in common,” said Aimma.

Odder nudged her, attempting to restrain her sarcasm.

Martha squinted, her pursed lips faded into a smile. “And you, Aimma. I understand you’re a healer?”

“Yes,” Aimma grinned and pulled up her sleeve to show off the symbol of a diamond with two snakes wrapped around it. “I’m a conjuror. I studied under my grandmother.”

“Oh how exciting. Only a step away from wizard.”

Aimma lifted her chin. “I hope to get my wizard of healing within a couple of years.”

“Perhaps I can help. I have an extensive library on healing spells and magic herbs. Do you want to see them after breakfast?”

Aimma perked up. “Oh yes. That would be wonderful.”

“I could use that warung drink now.” Odder winked at Aimma.

“Warung?” Martha’s eyes brightened. “The Celestines’ gift to this world. “If you have the beans, I have the press and hot water boiling as we speak.”

Aimma stood and picked up her satchel. “Wonderful, let’s make some brew.”

Finkle tidied up his plate and walked toward the backdoor.

“Aren’t you going to wait for the brew?” Odder asked.

“Nah, that stuff makes my head spin. Enjoy, laddy. I’ll be out back with the vixen learning a few spells.”

“Here you are, Odder.” Martha placed a thick ceramic cup filled with a hot dark liquid in front of him. “Now, it’s an acquired taste. I added a few spices to give it some flavor.” She sat back in her seat and watched with a keen eye as Odder took a sip.

He immediately jerked his head back, looking like he’d bit into a lemon.

Aimma sat across from him. “I can tell you’re not terribly fond of the brew.”

Odder licked his lips. “Terrible is right.”

“Once you’ve taken a few more swallows, you’ll fall in love with the stuff,” Martha said, grinning with confidence.

He took another drink. His head lightened up, and sure enough, the flavor became pleasant. A sense of wellbeing bubbled inside of him. He smiled. “You’re right. This is good.”

The house began to shake. Odder glanced left then right. “Is this what Finkle meant by head spinning?”

Martha laughed. “No Odder, that’s just the potion master at work. You better finish your drink and run downstairs.”

Aimma, who also glanced around, let out a sigh of relief. “Good, I thought I might have mixed the wrong beans.”

“Odder, he’s in the cellar.” Martha pointed toward the wooden door he came through last night from the split tree. “Instead of opening the door, turn the knob and move the entire handle to the right of the door.”

Odder lowered his eyebrows.

“Don’t look so confused lad. Run down there and do as I said.”

He approached the door and turned the rounded knob slowly.

“Now drag it to the right.”

“I can help him,” Aimma said.

“No dear. He has to do it himself.”

Odder hesitated. Fear and doubt crept into his thoughts. He shook his head and pulled the entire handle to the opposite side of the door. His frown turned into a wide-eyed expression.

“Now open it, lad. What are you waiting for?”

The door, this time, opened to the left, revealing a new passage with spiral stone steps leading down.

Just before he took a step, a deep voice whispered in his head, “STOP.” He glanced back at Martha and Aimma. “Are you sure this is the right path?”

“It will lead you where you need to go?” Martha replied.

A knot formed in Odder’s chest. He fought the strong urges to flee.

Odder, unsure of his footing, slowly placed his boot on a dirt floor as he stepped off the stairs. The dimly lit hall smelled like old dirty beets and looked like it was carved right out of the soil with a pick ax. Roots tangled and weaved throughout the walls, and he could hear the creeping of crawly things hidden in the crevices. He pressed on, sluggishly, to the heavy iron door at the end of the hall. It creaked open.

“Come in, Odder,” Karzan said. “Welcome to the potion room.”

Odder stood wide-eyed and opened-mouthed, looking across the cluttered room. “This is amazing.” Vines crept across the tall arched ceiling which held sizable bulbs that illuminated the room. Hundreds of clocks, of many different designs, mounted on the walls, and the potions… “You must have a thousand vials, containers, and jars.”

“Closer to ten thousand, I would say.”

Odder walked over to a table with a large iron container that looked like an upside-down octopus. Several metal tubes projected from its side with glass bottles attached on top. “What’s this?”

“A potion mixer, for certain potions at least.” Karzan tapped on a bottle filled with a purple liquid. “And this is mulder berry juice, the base ingredient for potions. I can replace any of the jars and with a turn of this spout, release the liquid into the iron container.” He pointed at several other jars then slightly turned their spouts. He quickly spun a small crank wheel mounted to the container.

The potion mixer started to vibrate and tremble. Then it shook the entire room. Odder grabbed onto a wall to keep from falling. Moments later, a pressure valve at the top of the container whistled.

“And now I have a potion,” Karzan said with a proud grin.

“So, this is where the tremor came from,” said Odder.

Karzan placed a small clay cup under a spigot at the base of the container and twisted the valve until the cup filled to the brim. “The tremor was an unexpected result from a project I’m working on. Here, It’s for you.”

“What is it?” Odder leaned in and took a whiff. It smelled like berries mixed with toad spit. He wrinkled his nose and turned his head. “No thank you.”

“Suit yourself.” Karzan took a swift drink. His face turned a lively shade of pink and his spectacles fogged up. “It’s just a morning tonic.” He cleared his throat. “Would you like to look around?”

“Absolutely.” Odder wandered to a wall filled with different glowing jars. “Something’s moving.”

“Step closer, lad. What do you see?”

“Incredible! The jars, they’re filled with small creatures, but why are they ghostly?” he asked tapping on a jar holding a jumping frog.

“Not so much living anymore. Each of these jars encases the magic essence of a creature.”

“The magic essence… Yes, Aimma explained that to me.” Odder moved on to a shelf filled with marked vials.

“Ah, and those are the potions.” Karzan smiled.

Odder squinted, his head moved from side to side. He tried to read the labeling, but it appeared as a jumbled mess of lines and marks.

“Enchanted labels,” Karzan explained. “Only deciphered using magic.”

Odder moved along the front of the shelves not willing to give up. He stumbled on an old tarp covering something very large. “What’s under here?” He tapped it. The tarp pushed back. Odder’s heart jumped as well as his feet.

Karzan held his stomach and laughed. “That, Odder, is one of the most wondrous creations in all of Arcaina.” He raised his voice. “Corbin, please show yourself to our guest.”

The tarp puffed out as if ready to give birth. It moved upward, making a clicking metallic sound, and exposing two golden metallic legs. Odder stepped back and watched the tarp lift to the ceiling, nearly twelve feet. He glanced at Karzan, who gave him an amusing smile. The tarp fell to the ground. Odder blocked his eyes from the glare, then took a peek. A shimmery golden creature stood before him with a glowing red heart, pulsating behind an exposed ribcage and a network of moving gears.

Odder stood wide-eyed. “What… is… it?” He stepped back further to get a better view.

The creature bent down slowly, humming and whistling as it did. Its two large round blue eyes blinked. Odder lifted his hand to touch its face, but the creature retreated to its upright position.

“Corbin may look formidable, but he’s quite shy and timid.” Karzan held out his hand. “It’s alright. This is Odder, and he’s a friend. He won’t harm you.”

A square plate where Corbin’s mouth would be, moved. “Friend?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Karzan.

His heart pumped faster, and several gears turned within the creature’s chest. He stretched out his metal hand to Odder.

“Nice to meet you,” Odder said. He could barely wrap his hand around one of Corbin’s fingers.

“Nice to meet you,” Corbin repeated.

“Alright, Corbin, sit.” Karzan motioned down.

Gears at his joints moved and clicked, and the creature hummed as he descended to the floor.

Karzan gripped Odder’s shoulder. “Let’s go to the other room.”

As Odder followed, he took a quick look back at the creature. “Is he made out of gold?”

“He is?”

“How can a creature be made from a worthless metal?” Odder asked.

“He’s no ordinary creature. He’s a golem,” Karzan said, “a golden golem. As far as I have tested, he’s made from a mixture of gold and silq, making him a hundred times stronger than the metal alone.” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Odder’s curiosity spiked. He lowered his brow and asked, “What’s a golem?”

“Rare and magical creatures. No one knows how they are created or where they come from. They are living elements. Sometimes made of stone, sometimes made from earth. I once heard rumor of one made from dragon’s fire.”

They entered a semi-lit room with a stone table surrounded by two chairs. Mounted on the walls were shelves filled with hundreds of books and scrolls.

“Please have a seat,” Karzan said.

Odder examined the room as he sat, “How did you get him?” Odder asked.

“I found him, or rather he found me. I was in the deep woods searching for herbs when a pack of dargens surrounded me. I used my magic, but their numbers were too great. I knew they would soon overtake me. Suddenly, I heard a loud rumble and trees snapping, like something large plowing through the forest, and there it was, the golden giant. It hurled rocks at the pack, and they ran off in fear.”

“I would too.”

Karzan nodded. “Once safe, the creature collapsed on the ground. He hummed and whined. I couldn’t pass the opportunity to see it up close, so I approached. I saw the sadness in his eyes, and he looked devastated. I circled him and found that his limbs had been nearly ripped out. I was amazed he could move at all. I managed to bring him back to my workshop and fitted him with metal gears, as best I could, to reattach his limbs.”

“Does he feel pain?”

“Oh yes. He feels hurt, sadness, pain, and even love – he is alive.” Karzan pulled a foot-long knotted root from his belt. He waved it in the air like a wand toward the bookshelf. “You see golems are rare and precious. In most cases, when discovered, they are hunted.”

“For what?”

A leather bound book vibrated and then flew off the shelf and onto the table. “Their hearts.” Karzan cleared his throat. “Their hearts are filled with powerful magic that gives them life. This priceless life magic is so tempting that many will kill the golems to obtain it.”

“Sounds horrible.”

“Indeed.” Karzan opened the book and turned the pages. “He’s taken care of now, so let’s focus on you and find out what demons are cursing you.”

“What about proving that I’m the Champion?”

“You could never be a Champion,” said Odder’s inner voice. “Forget this foolishness and flee far from here.”

“Odder?” Karzan moved close to Odder and peered into his eye. “You seemed distant for a moment.”

Odder shook his head. “No, just doubting all this.”

“I believe once you confront your demons, you’ll know the truth.”

Odder rolled up his sleeve and held out his forearm. Karzan hovered his wand over the markings, chanting. The markings began to glow red. A wave of nausea overwhelmed Odder. He covered his mouth with his right hand until the feeling passed. The muscles on his left arm tightened, his fingers twitched. His confused eyes pleaded with the wizard for answers.

Karzan, using his wand, stretched out the glowing crescent moon and eye pattern from Odder’s arm. The marking resisted, and Karzan’s hand shook. He gripped his wand with both hands and forced the marking onto the book. The book slammed open. Its pages flipped until it stopped on a blank page. Letters started to bleed to the surface. Formeteu.

A sudden coldness traveled up Odder’s spine.

“Old elven for fear,” Karzan said, without taking his eye off the book. More writing appeared and the outline of creature started to form.

Odder’s arm started to tremble. “Karzan?”

Karzan moved his wand back to the markings. He pulled out the second pattern resembling the face of a dragon and placed it on the book. Again the pages flipped until stopping on a blank page. This time the word Bilusund, and a picture of a demon burned on the page. Black smoke twisted up from the writing and dissipated into the air.

Odder’s blood raged. He gnashed his teeth and scraped his fingernails across the table. He had a sudden urge to rip at Karzan’s throat.

“Wrath,” Karzan said, in a low, harsh voice.

He quickly moved his wand back to his forearm and pulled out the third symbol, the upside down five-pointed star. He placed it on the book. Pages flipped once more, landing on a blank sheet. Ink spiraled and swirled in all directions until the writing and picture became clear.

Odder’s face became pale. His knees weakened, and his shoulders hunched. “Stop you fool,” said his inner voice. “It’s useless.”

Karzan placed his wand into his belt. “Infadecus, Self-loathing.” He leaned back and clasped his hands. “These are your demons.”

Odder started to reach for the book but hesitated. He felt an uneasy combination of fear, anger, and distaste occupying him like vagrants staking a claim on private property. He took a deep breath and pulled his hand back. “I want them out! What do we do now?”

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