The First Massacre

August walked slowly toward the village, unsure of what she’d find. Umbrella in hand, her other shoved in her hoodie’s pocket, she trudged slowly in the rain with Bimala and Kirin by her side. Bimala, the necromancer and her partner, looked at her, worry carved into her features.

    “Are you okay?” she gently touched August’s arm.

    “I’m fine,” August felt a heaviness settle in her chest. She leaned on Kirin’s body. “Just a little shaky.”

    The truth was that she didn’t know if she was fine. She didn’t know how she felt. All she could think about was the moment when Miss Clementine told her of her task. How only a few weeks after Arabelle’s disappearance, the citizens of this town witnessed the fearsome witch with the golden braid decimating their home. She couldn’t believe it was her at first, so Miss Clementine suggested she go see for herself. But it couldn’t be Arabelle, it just couldn’t be...

    As she wrestled with rhyme and reason, Kirin seemed to notice her unease. He nudged his beak towards her and gave her a look that said: You are not fine. You haven’t been fine since we left.

She turned to him as her hand trailed his furred and feathered body. “Okay, okay, I’m not fine. I’m sorry, I just...”

Bimala rubbed her arm again, offering a warm smile. “Hey, it’s alright. Whatever happens, you have me and Kirin with you."

August nodded. Bimala has been the closest thing to a therapist since Arabelle disappeared. Still, she felt like she should be strong and push her feelings away. There was also this feeling of wanting to blame herself. She could’ve done something, anything, those few months ago…

Kirin nudged her encouragingly. Her familiar was a griffin, and he had been with her ever since she found him with his wounded wing all those years ago. He had been with her through thick and thin, just as Arabelle had.

As they walked, the path opened up and small homes started to appear. Or rather, what used to be small homes. They were merely charred structures now. August noticed Bimala’s eyes were wide.

    “What’s wrong? Do you see anything?”

    “Sorry,” Bimala’s expression became stone-like. “There’s just… so many of them…”

    August realized that she meant the ghosts.

    As they entered the more urbanized part of town, it greeted them with charred buildings that were half of what they once were. What was once a church, a bank, a school, a bakery, was now an ashen shell. What was once a thriving town, was now abandoned, dilapidated rubble. Bimala started whispering to the spirits. 

    “They tell the same story.” She rubbed her tired eyes. “A witch with a golden braid… I’m sorry, August.”

    “It’s fine, Bee. Did you ask them how it happened?” She didn’t want to focus on the emotional part of this mission at the moment. She would push her feelings aside for now.

“They all say that it happened suddenly and without warning. One woman says she was just cooking dinner, and then their house was consumed by flames.”

    Surprised, August thought aloud. “That’s strange. Do you think that she used some sort of combustion spell and the town just instantly exploded? But that would take a lot of blood. I thought she was smarter than that.”

    “Maybe she isn’t working alone?” Bimala suggested to the ghosts. “No, they say they didn’t see anyone else during the attack.”

    There was a pause as the two witches became lost in their own thoughts.

Finally, it was decided. “Maybe we will find more clues elsewhere.” 

They trekked toward the center of town, which seemed to be the area with the most damage; the ghosts told Bimala that it was once a small but pleasant park with a fountain, and now it was a large pit of blackened stone and cement. A few yards away, off to the right, a small trail of blood led away from the pit. It somehow withstood the rain, as if staining the cement.

“Looks like a combustion spell to me.” August watched the rain patter against the wretched scene as if trying to wash the destruction away. She tried to keep her tears at bay.

“She can’t be far from here. A spell like this would take a lot out of a witch, even one like Arabelle.” Bimala started toward the blood trail.

    “Actually, do you want to…” August hesitated. “Do you want to find more ghosts while I follow the trail? They might be freaking out after what just happened.”

    “Are you sure? I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Bimala touched her arm again.

“I’ll be fine," her voiced cracked slightly. She was convincing herself as much as was convincing Bimala. “I should be able to handle her when I find her.” She tried to keep from crying again. She really just wanted to talk things out with Arabelle alone. She turned away before Bimala could answer. 

“Come on, Kirin.” He had been following them, listening for a clue all the while. He clicked his beak and walked alongside August, flicking his tail in a farewell to Bimala.

    She followed the blood trail, entering the decimated streets leading out of the center of town. The feeling of being a mouse blindly moving into the cat’s claws was coming over her. Kirin sensed her worry. He touched her cheek and they looked into each other’s eyes. I’m here. I always will be. His thought entered her brain. She smiled. I know. 

    There was a sound around the corner. August’s head swiveled, and her body turned.  There in the crumbling alleyway, was a figure. It stepped forward to reveal a face of Roman features and russet brown eyes, framed by plaited blonde hair, trailing past the collarbone.

“Arabelle?”

    She didn’t answer. She took August by the arm and led her to a secluded corner, right next to what was once a cafe. The arm the woman used to grab her was wrapped in gauze. Kirin followed, surprisingly not making a sound.

    “Arabelle? Wait- please, why--”

    “Shh,” Arabelle looked deeply into August’s watery blue eyes and touched her brown, shoulder-length hair. August noticed she was shaking slightly. Her expression twisted, tensed, and to August’s utter shock, she hugged her and wept on her shoulder. 

    August couldn’t reconcile these two versions of the same person. The one that destroyed a whole town, and the one sitting here, weeping. Despite this, she hugged back. As they pulled apart, they both wanted to make their cases.

    “Arabelle, please, why have you--”

    “It’s been so long! I have to tell--”

    A pause. A breath. Trying to keep the tears at bay.

“August?” 

“Did you do this?”

Another pause. There seemed to be a mad, almost iniquitous glint in her eyes, despite her recognition of August. Suddenly there was a sinking feeling in her stomach.

“That’s what I came to tell you!” Arabelle was smiling now. “I’ve finally found the answer!”

“The answer… to what?”

“The answer to eternal life!”

August was at a loss for words. She thought Arabelle’s fascination with immortality had been just that. A fascination. This was no mere fascination. It was a full-on obsession. 

“And what is that?” August tried to keep her voice level.

“Human souls,” She was more excited than ever. “Do you know where the people’s ghosts are?”

Kirin sensed the growing tension and tried to put distance between them. He communicated with August, saying, Whoever this is, it isn’t Arabelle. She has been consumed by this madness and sleeps within it. Even if she weeps at the sight of you, this new Arabelle doesn’t care whether you live or die.

She does believe that I’ll tell her where the ghosts are though, August replied. “I’m not a necromancer, Arabelle. I don’t know.”

“But you had a necromancer with you, correct?”

“She’s not here to tell you.”

“Why keep secrets, August? I thought you loved me.” Arabelle wasn’t smiling anymore.

    That’s when the tears finally came, without warning. “The Arabelle I know and love wouldn’t go around destroying entire towns just to achieve something that’s unachievable!”

“But it is achievable! Don’t you understand? The power of the human soul is powerful enough to grant eternal life--”

“That doesn’t mean what you’re doing isn’t wrong and immoral,” August, despite the tears, despite the emotional baggage, was furious. Betrayed by the one who wanted to use immortality to save lives. And yet here she was, destroying them. August knew she was better than this.

Arabelle looked furious as well. “I thought you would help me. We could’ve made the elixir of life like we wanted to when we were kids. Don’t you want that?”

August gritted her teeth. “I thought we moved past childish dreams. I don’t want it if it means this,” she gestured to the destruction, with the rain falling steadily. 

“Then I don’t need you anymore!” Now she could see Arabelle’s fists emitting steam, preparing to attack. Instincts took over.

Kirin! He quickly allowed August to mount, then he swooped into the air before Arabelle could strike her.

Looking down, she could see Arabelle’s hands stop steaming as she fell to her knees. The combustion spell had weakened her, and August realized she might’ve used it to get her attention, not just to acquire souls. She still looked dangerous, so August and Kirin went to retrieve Bimala, who wasn’t too happy about August leaving Arabelle alone. 

The rain had soaked them by now, and they approached the scene with caution. They turned the corner,  hearts beating heavily in their chests.

Arabelle was nowhere to be found.

The End