It was only a small village, a neat little place that was out of the way, but the duty that brought her here was none the less important. A few nights ago, miraculously she had seen a vision that hadn't been a few minutes into the future. This was one that was quite a bit further. A body, washing up onto the rocks of an island. This body leaked such dreadful things from it, a strange blight that poisoned the very rocks themselves. The island's name was not important, she knew however the location of it, and had set sail the next morning. Her small craft was a sleek vessel, it was meant to transport no more than four people. She knew a little of the seas, one had to when you were born to island chains, and her father had taught her the ways of sails and knots. This helped her to manoeuvrer the craft as it cut through the water like an arrow through the air.
Her trip took her only a day, but she was ever vigiliant as she awaited a sign of her vision. It came finally with a strange flicker in the air. Something was odd...and she felt an uneasiness. The young woman, dressed in a black robe that hugged close to her body stood on the shores, far from the rocks of her vision. Her eyes were bound by the purest of white silk clothes, shielding her eyes from the physical world. Her hood was drawn up, hiding her soft blond hair in the darkness of the garment. By the time she made it to the rocks of her vision, there were villagers around the site, pulling a body from being battered by the waves. A zombie had been enlisted to do this chore, and it was no easy one as an advanced rate of rot began to affect the zombie.
It was nothing more than a pile of rotted flesh and soft bones as it dragged the man's carcass from the waters. It was unrecognizable, the man's skin had all but been eaten or rotted away, and there was something terribly wrong with the smell. The woman regarded the corpse with disgust. Though faint, she could hear the soul crying out to her. However, that would have to wait. She approached one of the young men who stood looking apprehensively at the body.
"Tis a grave thing afore us, Goodman, and erelong I fear that thou shalt have needs of me." Her tone was docile, it was soft and smooth even under the archaic language that she used. "Linger here not long, for if thy group of villagers wish to knoweth the identity of he who's life hath been spilt, I wilt require a goodly number of items for mine ritual." Some could be a superstitious lot, but the group was level minded, and knew what she intended. To speak with the dead.
Night had to fall, and well into the night, before midnight, were the villagers prepared. A number of torches had been spread out around the body, more to show where the blight was, and where it was unsafe to tread. The young woman had looked pensive all day as she delegated orders for what she required. Sage was the hardest object to obtain, but it was something she required, if only to clear her mind.
"I call to thee, O spirit of Slain, thou shalt not linger long in thy ephemeral form, I shalt not keep thee from rest, but I doth require answers." She called her, focusing herself to call upon the soul. It was a wretched thing that stood within the blight. A soul should be beautiful and untouched, unmarred by death, but this soul was...disgusting to the woman. It was dark, faint, struggling to appear almost. "Please...Please no...no more..." It cried helplessly at her.
"Thy rest is at hand, harken to me O spirit. What manner of creature hath done such atrocities to thee? Answer soothfast, and speak swith, as the moon wanes, so doth my power...I fear erelong our conversation shall be closed." She urged the restless soul, who just wished no more than to pass on. "He came without warning...so quiet...and his touch was excruciating. I felt my body cry out, and my soul itself cried as well. He showed no mercy as he took from me my life, but I didn't care. However my soul...he could touch my soul, and his touch was...How could I bear it? I tried to flee, but he held me there, his face alight with mirth. Please...let me go...I want to rest...I am dead, and I am tired." The wretched spirit spoke softly, and there were murmurs in the crowd as they listened.
"Prithee, didst thou perceive a name from this vile monster?" She inquired, her brow marred with sweat, and the white symbols upon her cheek did now glow as she tried to hold onto the soul for just a little bit.
"Beware of him, the Ugly one! Look not at his face, his beauty is a trap! He is ugly! Run from the Ugly One! He comes not to these islands, but beware him!" The soul cried out in anguish as it was forced to recall the being that slain him.
"Thy shalt feel his wrath no more...My power over you wanes, and so go thereinto comfort, rest, and be at peace. We shalt mind nowise." Her tone was consoling, as she did indeed feel pity for the soul. Such a grievous tragedy to one who did not deserve it. She rose slowly and turned to the villagers, the runes on her face no longer glowing. "Burn it all. Let the fires purge and cleanse the land from this monster. Take care, lest thou shalt find thyself in such a fate." She retreated a little ways to observe as the villagers set fire to the blighted area and the corpse of the dead man and their decayed zombie. It was but all they could do at this point. The fire was quite large, and it burned away merrily without a care, consuming the tainted area and bodies. The woman was almost sure that very few people on the island, or even on the ocean itself would not miss the blaze.
