Gusts of wind blew, it seemed the trees would part, and 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. He felt the chill of the night despite his thick wool clothing.
Still, there was something wrong about the night's breeze. He closed his eyes and simply went back to sleep.
A creature of gargantuan size snaked through the air like a desperate worm, its blade sharp arms flailing as it ran from the wardens. Trees blew apart, gales spun as it drifted. Behind it, and above, men and women clad in black uniforms pursued tentatively, and despite the creature's incredible speed, there was no struggle to keep up.
Kutashibe was a witchspirit that has devoured nations, ended tribes—a name mystic and legendary, and yet, these warriors scared it, they were its poison, and they were persistent.
It spun arcing it two right arms. A splice of energy materialized in that moment, taking the shape of nails and soaring through the air to hit the wardens.
A piece of paper was thrown up by a warden releasing an identical energy and stopping the attacks in mid-air. A dagger whistled past the witchspirit, landing right in front of it, stabbing into the soil. A piece of cloth was about the knife's pommelrand on it were the words summon written in bold Cekain.
Kutashibe froze, and then tried to turn away from the blade. A burst of energy erupted from the blade and a witchspirit materialized above the knife. It held the great witchspirit from behind as it tried tp flee.
"Now!" One of the wardens yelled. They were close to twenty, a little battalion that had been on his tail since he had destroyed that village. He roared: an eerie whaling sound that echoed through the forest.
He turned frantically, and sank its massive jaw into the witchspirit that was nothing more than a massive head and tusks with two disproportionately over large arms.
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 psuke 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, a desperate last call. His energy flared, bursting wide and beyond his body, forming a wide beeth 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, "Sealed!"
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, he morphed his arm into a Psuke reinforced blade and swiped at the silver bar. It was impervious to his strike.
He roared and thrashed. He had seen that over the years, humans tended to help another when they hear cries of help, no humans would help him, they were far from a human settlement, and no witchspirit would dare move close to men powerful enough to end the reign of Kutashibe. He realized, that in times of great fear, he too was hardly different from humans, pathetic.
Half his torso had sunk into the gleaming bar of silver. The wardens watched intently. More of him sank in, 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 bore right through it.
"What?!"
A miniature kutashibe 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. It tore through the air with renewed desperation, 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 psuke, 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 silver bar sucked in the witchspirit, devouring it steadily. The creature stretched open its maw, releasing a streak of energy in one final act of defiance, the psuke blast dissipating in the clouds, turning the sky into a pink sea momentarily.
"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.