Maeva and the Corpse draft 2

The blade went through the witch’s abdomen.  She let out a blood-curdling shriek, yet the ironclad soldier did not flinch.  This was the fate of all heretical witches. This was for his comrades who fell to her wicked spells.  The ring of fire that surrounded began to subside.  The screaming stopped. It was over at last.
Yet as he pulled the blade away, the witch raised her arm and a burst of flame emerged from the palm of her hand.  Before the warrior could react, a fierce blast of flame from the witch sent him flying upwards toward the sky.  The flames were searing hot, burning away half the warrior’s body.  His consciousness began to fade, his smoldering body tumbling down into the waters of the marsh.  The witch fell on her back and began to disintegrate to ash.  Such was another day in the war of Hektee, so long ago.
Maeva decided she would go into the swamp tonight.  Her Fae companion, Abitibi, had told her of a hidden cavern underneath a giant tree in the middle of the swamp.  .  “Now are you sure this was the tree Abby?” Maeva said as she carefully inspected a tree. Supposedly, one night Abby caught the scent of rotting flesh beneath the swamp and while it seemed preposterous at first, Maeva did notice a suspicious amount of rusty metal scraps floating on the swamp water.
	Abby buzzed happily.
	Maeva smiled, “I thought I knew this place like the back of my hand, but it still surprises me how deep it gets.”  She carefully cut through the foliage beneath the tree and noticed a gap between the roots, leading her to believe the cavern could be down there. “Aha! Well you said it my buzzy dear, there’s a cavern! You’ll eat well tonight, I assure you!”
	Abby spun happily in the air.
	“Well, here go-WAH!” Maeva attempted to carefully step through but the ground beneath her began to collapse, sending her sliding through the hole and plunging into the waters below.  Abby flew down to assist but the water was fortunately deep enough for a safe fall. “Gah! That’s what I get for staring so long,” said Maeva as she wrung out the water from her hat.  Abby began to emit light from her wings, illuminating the cavern around them.
	It was astounding yet so very bleak.  Multiple corpses were floating in the water, still clad in rusty iron armor.  “By Mort's grace! Abby, you little rascal you hit the motherload…”  Maeva wanted to smile, yet grief began to seep in.  All these soldiers so unaccounted for, so many not given proper burials.  Even if it was a daunting task to retrieve them all, Maeva could not stand such disregard for the dead.  “A long night ahead of us it seems, let’s take a closer look around in case we missed something.”
	The swamp’s preservation of the corpses had the nasty effect of keeping the last expression the soldiers had on their faces.  Many were stuck looking angry, others in despair.  10 corpses were accounted for, many in bad shape as they were not completely submerged in the swamp water.  “No worries boys, I may not know your names but I’ll make sure you’re given something more proper.” She fastened a rope between the corpses and was about ready to get them out of the hole until Abby began to buzz excitingly.
	“What is it?  Did I miss something?”  Maeva looked towards Abby and noticed she was motioning a deeper part of the murky emerald water.  Upon closer inspection, to Maeva’s shock, there was a body that appeared to be completely flawless.  “That’s…no way! There’s barely a scratch on him, this has to be a trick!”  Maeva carefully lifted the corpse out of the water.  As it finally emerged from the water, Maeva gasped. The right side of the body was completely charred, saved for the melted armor.  “Almost a 50/50 split… How did you end up like this?”  It was disappointing that the body wasn’t perfect after all, but with how unusual the battle damage was compared to the others, this gave her an idea.  A smile came across Maeva’s face, “Abby, I think I just found a volunteer for my trial.”   Abby tilted her head in confusion.
	After a few hours traversing through the swamp with the corpses in tow, Maeva and Abby returned home to their cabin at the edge of the swamp.  It might have been rather meager considering the average citizen of Hektee lives in a more lavish home, but it was just cozy enough for the two of them to reside.  A storm began to rumble above as Maeva finished her chores and headed to her personal mortuary.  There the corpse of the half-burnt soldier lay, his expression seeming like he was in a deep slumber. Maeva carefully began to write runes around the corpse.  They had to be perfectly aligned with each other or nothing would happen or worse a severe miscast that could tear her body apart.
	Abby became worried and placed herself in a jar as precaution.  “I know you’re scared Abby, but I have to do this.  Every other body I’ve come across was not in the best shape.  Even his body isn’t quite what I wanted but it’s about as close as I could get. I need to show people that this CAN work!”  Maeva removed her purple gloves, revealing runes that were carved in the back of her hand.  The sight of them reassured Maeva; it rekindled memories of how long she studied and practiced to become a witch in the first place.  But to pursue a career in communing with the dead had many witches tell her it was futile.  Death was not something the witches of Hektee could not completely comprehend.  There was no way of seek out the powers of the dead and many had tried before but failed.
	Still, Maeva shook off any doubts she had.  This was the moment that it could all change and this soldier was the key.  “Forgive me sir, but I need your strength.  I promise you the rest you desire afterwards.”  Maeva began to chant in an ancient tongue.  Chants were not always necessary to cast any spell. Most of it relied on the will of one’s soul and mind but a chant was to beseech the higher powers to strengthen the spell, beyond a witch’s mortal limit.  Maeva’s chant was like a song, speaking out to the dearly departed of this realm.  It was a song for those who were unseen but clearly about, still lingering in the mortal realm.  The runes began to glow, one by one.  A light enveloped the corpse.  Abby struggled to screw on the lid on top of the jar.  The cabin began to shake and shudder, the noise drowned out the storm outside.  Maeva’s song intensified, her voice cracking as she continued. She sung praise of those who lived their lives to the fullest, those who lived by the sword, those who were witches, those who were of the Idoneus, those of who were of Vetus.  The light was blinding, Maeva ‘s rune-etched hands began to bleed.  It was a like lightning kept striking the inside of her body over and over.  But still she persisted, singing louder and louder.  Then with a loud bang, Maeva was sent flying against the wall.  Abby’s jar was sent tumbling down to the floor, shattering in the process.
	Abby quickly flew over to Maeva, buzzing about.  Maeva slowly got up, coughing up blood, “I… guh… I’m okay… really just… feel like my ribs got torn off is all, hehe-ow!”  As she got up, the smoke began to depart from the scene and the body was nowhere to be seen.  “Where did he…oh no, the spell must have backfired…all that for nothing?”  Maeva frowned as she looked around the smoke covered room. Suddenly she was grabbed by the throat.  A hand clad in rusty iron held her up and as Maeva looked to her assailant a growly voice spoke up.
 “WHO.. ARE... YOU?”
Maeva beamed as she realized who her assailant was.  The ritual was a success and standing there with a charred portion of his body and holding her by the neck was none other than the corpse himself.  “Agh…I see you finally awoke dear friend! Welcome back to the realm of the living!” Abby charged towards the reanimated corpse, but her tackle against his head was ineffective and she fluttered away.