Gusts of wind blew, and it seemed that the trees would part as leaves rustled violently. Kel slowly opened his eyes, a thin piece of wood in his mouth. He did not look down, one did not when they were tens of meters above on a tree with the ground seeming like nothing but a blanket of darkness. He felt the chill of the night despite his thick wool clothing.
Still, there was something wrong about the night's breeze. He had gone an entire day with no catch, no gullible prey in sight, and now this chilly strangeness? Just how much worst could it get? He chose not to think about it, uncomfortable and difficult situations were not new to him, he was after all a hunter. He simply went to sleep unbeknownst of the great battle that took place kilometers away, a battle unseen.
Between rows of trees, a creature of gargantuan size snaked through the air like a desperate worm, its grotesquely huge arms flailing as he ran from the black clad figures that drifted and merged with the dark. Trees blew apart, gales spun as he zoomed. He moved at an incredible speed and yet these figures could keep up. How was he, one who was at the pinnacle of spirit magic driven this desperately to a corner? It was unheard off, a cat would not simply be hunted by a bunch of rats, however he was in that very predicament.
Kutashibe was a witchspirit that had devoured nations, ended tribes—a name mystic and legendary, and yet, he would fall so low, at the mercy of a bunch of humans with magic originally of witchspirits—wardens they were called.
He spun, arcing his two right arms, and releasing a splice of energy that took the shape of nails and soared through the air, directed at the wardens.
A piece of paper was thrown up in response releasing an identical energy and freezing the attacks in mid-air. Kutashibe had turned to run again when a dagger whistled past the him, stabbing into the soil in front of him, stunning him momentarily. A piece of cloth was about the knife's pommel and on it were the esoteric words summon written in bold.
The witchspirit froze, understanding the situation, and tried turning away from the blade. Immediately, a burst of energy erupted from the blade and another witchspirit materialized above the knife. Its large arms came around Kutashibe as he tried to flee halting his movement , an impressive feat for a curse spirit that was barely a one-fourth of the legendary witchspirit size.
"Now!" One of the wardens yelled. The figures were slightly above a dozen, a little more than twelve and they had disgraced him so. He roared, an eerie whaling sound echoing through the forest.
He turned frantically before sinking his massive teeth into the witchspirit that bound him.
The spirit wailed in pain, and Kutashibe found his reprieve, he tore through its grip and sought to continue on, except that it was much too late this time. He was surrounded entirely by humans in black uniforms chanting simultaneously, their spiritual energy surging and responding to the rhythm of their chants.
He turned frantically, and then he saw it, the tool of his destruction. A thick silver bar lay embedded in the ground, it too bearing the distinct chill of an enemy's energy.
"No," the witchspirit uttered. He had roamed these lands for over two centuries, none had come close to hurting him not to mention driving him into such a corner.
"Sealed?! Me?!" He tried to resist, and as desperate last response, his energy flared, encompassing him, forming a wide berth that clashed against the synchronizing energies of the chanters.
The wardens in black had finished their chant however, and in cold uniformity, they all uttered the words, "Seal!"
A sharp whistle sound, like the dying screech of a large bird tore through the air as a vortex formed at the heart of the silver bar. Kutashibe legs were immediately sucked in, and he morphed his arm into an energy reinforced blade, swiping at the silver bar however, it was impervious to his strike.
He roared and thrashed, fighting desperately against the negating powers of the silver bar, a great witchspirit would not leave without a fight.
Clang! Clang! Clang! His blade against their metal, nothing changed. Pathetic.
Half his torso had sunk into the gleaming bar of silver, and the wardens watched intently as more of him sank in, and more of him died. Just his massive head and shoulders were unbound, and it seemed that Kutashibe was eventually going to resign to a myth.
'No!'
He arched his neck, and on its right side, a swelling rose, and then popped revealing another witchspirit.
"What?!"
A miniature kutashibe swiftly drifted from the hole, zooming in the air and away from the main body. It was a laughable attempt, the piece was barely a one-twenty of the witchspirit yet It tore through the air incredible speed, free from the abilities of the silver bar.
The wardens were shocked, but they quickly rose to action. Not a piece of the witchspirit would be let to roam the lands.
It snaked above them, diving into the trees. It was small, about the size of a man on the cusp of manhood, and most importantly, it was not the legendary spirit itself.
Five wardens broke away from the group in hot pursuit of the human-sized fragment. They had seen were it had passed and they could sense its evil spirit energy, but the dark and the trees hid it. Kutashibe had been too large to seek refuge in the dark and between trees, this one had no problems with that.
The parent witchspirit was getting pulled in , steadily dying, and becoming undone. The creature stretched open its maw, releasing a streak of energy in one final act of defiance, the energy blast dissipating in the clouds, turning the sky into a pink sea.
"The terrible witchspirit lord Kutashibe has been exorcised." The leader of the hunt stated, and another wrote.
*****
"Huh?" Kel jolted from his sleep to see the sky pink. First it was the eeriely chilly winds, now it was a strangely pink sky. These were no good signs for a hunt.
His eyes locked on the pink skies, until they fell dark and void again.