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I was in the Greenwood Forest, the city of Grosswardein to the East of me when I felt the dark grief of Vlad the Impaler Dracula sweep over Valachia.
The unexpected, intense force of it hit me in the gut and had me keeling over as the magic of an all-powerful, centuries-old, God-like vampire tore viciously into me.
I felt his anguished rage like it was my own, I screamed loud enough to wake the dead, and decided knew that I would tear humanity apart in the name of the martyred woman who I loved, a woman whom I'd never met, with my teeth if I must; All the while, I wanted to flee to the safety of my coven, fortify against this violent extermination with defensive magic, and then plead for the mercy and forgiveness we, myself included, did not deserve, as I knew this genocidal hatred would not overlook me.
And then it was gone.
The grief, anguish, rage, and intent that was Vlad Dracula disappeared like dust in the wind; The fight or flight instinct, desperation, hope, and fear of death that was entirely me lingered a moment, and then it too was gone.
Without Dracula in my head, assaulting me inadvertently, I could take a minute, raise a defence against a secondary mental assault, and with a controlled mind, think rationally: what was it to me if Dracula meant to exterminate all of humankind?
As a collective, humanity was a disease, a weed that the divine should've pulled out at the roots aeons ago. Individually, a few may not deserve what was to come, I may even cast a spell of life and peace, or simply weep, for the few; Still, though, I wasn't one to stick my neck out for “the people”, not if I could avoid it. Call me apathetic, cruel, and wicked; I valued my life more than I did anyone else’s and would not put it on the line for the good folk of Valachia.
Not that it was my life to lose, anyway.
And as for how Dracula's intent would affect me personally; It wouldn't. The Vampire King's night horde comes of hell which, incidentally, is what grants me access to, and taught, the darkest recesses of magic. It would take a lot more than the night to wound, let alone kill, me. Unless Dracula, or the aristocratic vampire council, took to the field after lone witch-kind, I'll live. And even then, if it came to that and I needed to find safety, a coven is a powerful force that not even Dracula could quash.
Not that I intend to flee, pathetic and defeated, to my coven. Not to be dramatic, but I'd rather die.
No, Vlad Dracula's crusade meant nothing to me and had nothing to do with me. What did though, was the tales of a divining artefact in the East, one that a wise woman was, so I’m told, using to make a few quick coins.
As a witch, even though divination was not typically my cup of tea, I imagine that I could put such a tool to more use than a charlatan; And, as an altruist, I really should move to confiscate dangerous magic when I find it, as the general safety of the people is so important to me.
A flurry pulled me out of my own thoughts, the Autumn wind shaking the trees and catching my copper red hair as it passed through. Adjusting my cloak and hood, I made to continue East, following the scream of crows deeper into the forest.