Alma's Dreams (are Default) [An Eldritch Thriller]

"It was anything but." Zulema grimaced at the witch's excitement. She wouldn't wish on anyone the things she has had to endure, no matter the power received. "And… like it or not, the power had to be excised from me if I were to truly be free of Macha's influence. It was hard at first, but as I slowly regain my senses, it's seeming more and more like it was the only logical choice."

"Wait, how did you get rid of it? Maybe we can do that for me!" Heloise looks from Zulema to Derleth happily.

"Derleth removed one of my eyes." Zulema clicked her teeth at the unpleasant memory.

The witch yelped in horror, shaking her head.

"The same procedure would not be possible regardless." Derleth's solemn voice once again broke through their conversation. "The Old One has a much weaker othering. It does not have as much resistance against an Elder One like myself, and due to its arbitrary nature and the fact that it is spread amongst many, made it more difficult for her to fully control her monomyths. The sorceress is afflicted by two very powerful Elder Ones, and both seem to have very deep claims on her soul."

"What the FUCK is an Elder One?! You keep saying it like you expect me to have any idea what you're talking about!"

"Elder Ones are very powerful beings," stated Zulema. "More powerful than gods. I've been told they are higher beings which live outside of our universe." The ex-priestess looked over to Derleth. "He was once one of them."

The eldritch man grumbled. "My power has not waned as much you wish it has, Orphan of Macha."

Heloise leaned toward Zulema and whispered, "Sis, there is some crazy tension between you two. Have you guys…?"

Zulema gawked at her with a mortified mix of disgust and disbelief on her now flushed face. "What?! W-With him…? That's—How would that even…? No! Why would that thought even enter your brain?!"

"Oh, honey. You're even funner to tease than Alma." The witch giggled.

"Loise, this is not a laughing matter! Your life is in grave danger!"

"Well, I'm not hearing any solutions! First of all, whose asses think they own me?"

"Your magic prowess suggests that you should already be aware," said Derleth. "Were you not boasting of your connection to the Archmage when you were attempting to fight me earlier?"

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"Azotha? Hello~? He's just my patron god. Do you know how many mages pledge themselves to him? Every witch and warlock pledge themselves to one of the twelve when they become a mage. Usually when picking out their magic specialty. Everyone knows that." The witch strutted up and repeatedly poked Derleth in the chest, pressing in her acrylic tip haughtily. "But like, you bizarres keep going on about how magic is distinctly not the same as othering. So which is it?"

"Exactly how much do you know of your Azotha?"

"Eh? The usual? I mean, sure I've studied up on him more than most, but in-depth info on the patrons themselves is few and far between. Uh… He's like, the dark patron god of botany and agriculture? Pretty much anything that grows on the planet falls under his domain. He watches over us farming and hedge witches." She puffed up her chest proudly. "Apparently, he paid some grand cost to attain more power. And that's why they call him the Anguished Archmage, among other names. Like patron like witch, I guess. But I thought he was just a regular god like Macha. You're saying he's stronger? Heh, can't say I'm surprised!"

"He paid a mortal price, but with it he attained the status of a higher being. His body is kept bound by the seven stakes, painfully piercing through the vital points of his being eternally. He stands pinned to the wall of his domain, watching over the purview of his proxies. He suffers so that you may continue your mystic journey."

"Oh my… Dark God." The witch was intrigued. "I can't believe he never told me shit! And you still haven't answered my original question! I'm a witch, not a mono… whatever! And what about all the other mages that have pledged to him?"

"Those are nothing but base practitioners, who dip their toes into magic and esoterism simply to make their lives easier. You are different, sorceress. You weren't simply drawn to magic. It was drawn to you."

"What? Like she was destined to be a witch?" asked Zulema. "How is that possible? I thought sorcery was nothing but a profession."

"When a mortal is still very young, before they fully gain cognizance, there are moments… during the twilight hours between sleep and waking, where the underdeveloped, infant soul travels the outer domains. They slip through into the fringes of The Real and enter these areas where no lower being is meant to go. At times, one of these wayward souls will enter his domain and gain his notice. He bestows onto them his othering—an attuned body capable of wielding powerful, ancient magic. Thus, a true witch—an Aradia—is born."

Heloise looked up at him in a state of total disbelief. "An… Aradia? Like, I always knew I was particularly skilled, but… chosen? Quoi…! Je rêve ou quoi ?"

"The magic of this world is not particularly evolved. Have you not wondered why it is simply used in trades? Technology would not have advanced to this point if powerful magic was common."

"So, you're saying I like, have the potential to become the most totally fab witch on the planet?!" The bubbly witch was erratically jumping for joy. "Oh my totally sexy Dark God! I could kiss that old bastard!"

"That might have been the case," Derleth continued. "If not for the other othering pulsing its way inside your mind."