33: Witches of the Seelie
Just as Phantasia was prodding the circle with wisps of her magic, contemplating if she could just flood the whole thing with her power, two figures entered the room behind a nonchalant Dante.
“D’ya make a habit of poking round things without tellin’ anybody?” said Ceres, pulling down the hood covering her face, “What in the Goddess’s name are ye doing here?”
I could say the same to you. “Just…trying to help…investigate rumours,” replied Phantasia, “We found this funny symbol on the floor. Dante thinks it might be used for demon-summoning!”
Ceres huffed. “Right. Been hearing the rumours of the ghost, ‘ey? Been plenty of ‘em going about now that Godhand’s buggered off. People ain’t so scared to talk and I can be meself for once.” She strode towards the circle and beckoned the other figure forward. “Korrie, give us a hand with this, will ya?”
Korrigan pulled off her hood, tossed Dante a friendly giggle, and joined Ceres, handing her an ornate knife she’d been hiding under her robes.
“Now stand back and let us deal with this,” said Ceres.
“Ooh, now this doesn’t look very welcoming,” said Korrigan, leaning down to take a closer look at the magic circle. She jerked back and squealed. “It’s blood! Ceres, it’s drawn in blood!”
“It’s a binding circle, Korrie,” explained Ceres. She flicked a glance in Phantasia and Dante’s direction. “You two pay attention an’ all. This circle’s for trapping stuff. Ain’t too powerful by looks of it, an’ you gotta have a greater power in the circle than whatever you’re trying ta bind has, so whatever’s caught here can’t be a demon or anything dangerous. Judging by those creeps holed up ‘ere, I’d say it were an innocent. Probably using it for a drug,”
“They’re using someone’s spirit as a drug?” cried Korrigan, “That’s horrible! You’ve got to stop it, Ceres. You have to!”
“Ain’t much that’ll stop me,” she replied. Taking the knife in one hand she used the other to sprinkle some powders and herbs over the edge of the circle. She mumbled some mantras, slashed at the air, and then performed a mudra with her free hand as she stabbed the knife into the circle’s edge. The energy she’d focused through her various tools cut through the flow of magic encircling the oblivious spirit, beginning a chain reaction that snapped each of the ethereal shackles in turn. One advantage humans had over faeries was that their strength wasn’t relative to the world around them,
“May the Goddess bless your spirit,” said Ceres, hands clasped in prayer.
While the purple-hared girl looked proud in her ability, unbeknownst to her the freed spirit lingered, weighed down by the corruption. Phantasia focused all her strength into extending a ribbon of her essence across the attic to meet her, just as a demon such as the leansídhe would reach out to devour another’s energy. With the connection made, she funnelled her purifying energy into the ghost.
I… remember… said the girl.
Memories never leave you, thought Phantasia, but sometimes you just lose track of ‘em. They could steal your spirit, but they could never steal you. You’re safe now.
You…really are an angel…
The girl smiled, and then her spirit exploded into a thousand tiny particles that were caught in the streams of mana and swept away like dust in the wind. The joy and relief Phantasia had felt through their brief connection brought a tear to her eye, and she wondered how Death faeries coped dealing with this on a regular basis. No wonder they were so aloof!
***
