Ten years had passed and the shaman had co to the conclusion that her adopted granddaughter was for lack of a better term “Gifted”. A prodigy when it ca to learn shamanism. A bright child that loved to play around and experint, with a character that did not befit her appearance. She was so much of blessing that even The Fog had taken a liken to her.
For these and several other reasons, the shaman had decided that her granddaughter would inherit her role as the next shaman. Since she specialised in [Totem Magic], she believed that would be watch she should teach her.
It did not take long for the child to beco proficient with that brand of magic and move out to discover others.
Truly a bright granddaughter anyone would wish to have. She was content with all matters, but little did she know there was a budding problem. That was her son’s wife had eventually laid an egg and from it was born a powerful beautiful granddaughter. Though she was not stronger than her predecessor, she was indeed powerful.
Her son ca in to argue that she train her “True” granddaughter instead. Angry, the shaman banned her son from ever visiting her again. She instead took in his daughter for lessons and made it well known that she would only pass on her job to whover proved to be superior and that neither would be allowed to see their father till after.
Due to this, both were raised as “proper” sisters. They played together, learned together, worked together, but under no circumstances did those two ever fight. The shaman would never allow for such an instance and both knew this.
However, to the Shaman’s dismay, this only furthered the distance between the girls eventually. The oldest of the two had the most magical potential and this made the other feel insignificant in almost every other way. Since both couldn’t argue about the issue, the latter would simply run away on a daily.
Instead of practicing magic she would be inspecting whatever looked curious to her. In fact, it didn’t take long for her to encounter so other adolescent copperheads, of whom she had not seen for the past two years. Quickly, she beca friends with them and would sneak out to go play with them all the ti.
Till one day, they requested to see where she lived since she had seen their hos. Reluctant at first, she was pressured till she finally agreed and snuck them into her ho when her grandmother was not around. They played around for a bit, then they saw her sister practicing magic.
They were all appalled by her looks and went out to call her nas. At first, she tried to ignore them, but the children got quite physical. They started to attack her, even though she possessed a bigger fra. She did not respond with violence because of what her grandmother taught her, so she simply took the beatings quietly and looked at her sister for help. Her sister only looked away from what was happening
The shaman returned later that day only to see her granddaughter with quite so minor injuries on her body. She asked the two what had happened, but none of them spoke. She asked if they fought and both denied ever fighting. Unbeknownst to them, the mist that shrouded the South was a sentient entity that always spoke to the Shaman and told her what happened. Angrily, she returned the youngest child to her father for lying to her.
The shaman’s son didn’t want to believe that and started to spout so nonsense about how the shaman only treated his daughter badly because of how much she hated him. She ignored his claims and tried to sack him from her cave, but in a rage, the son ended up choking his mother to death.
After realizing what he had done, he started to cry out tears for his mother. The shaman’s granddaughter witnessed the entire incident and quickly rushed to her grandmother’s side to see if she was still ok.
The son started to scream at her for being the cause of his mother’s death. Being a child and still not understanding what exactly what was happening, she received the blunt accusations from the person she rembered said would be her father from when she was an egg. This caused an uncontrollable heartbreak that made her run away from the cave for so weeks.
The one thing that really stuck with her was when her father called her the Second Coming of Zatana.
Which was what had brought her to her current predicant. A few days ago, she found a weakened dragon that was hiding out in a cave in the swamp. He called himself Ongril. He was the only thing in the harsh cold swamp that treated her with any sort of warmth after her grandmother.
So, it was not shocking that she had grown close to the wounded dragon. She was currently recounting her reasons for being lost in the swamp to him.
‘That copperhead is a real bastard, tch. Want to burn him to death?’
Ongril asked her half-jokingly.
“I’ll take responsibility for what I did.”
She said with tears in her eyes, still failing to understand what exactly had happened.
“I killed grandmother… I-I… am not any better than Zatana. Maybe I really do deserve that na.”
It hadn’t been long since he had t this creature. However, being the only creature he was able to communicate with for the past three decades, he easily ca grew attached to her. She was a bright child who hadn’t even shown that she was in pain the past few days he had been with her. At this point, he was willing to do almost anything just to see her genuinely happy. Seeing her in such a sorry state had really pissed him off. If he could see that useless copperhead, he would make sure his death was a slow and painful one.
‘Who is this Zatana you speak of?’
“My grandmother said she was a wicked shaman that terrorized her people and had killed several other races in a quest for power.”
Ongril started to think about what he had just heard. A wicked shaman that terrorized her own people? The only ones he could think about were the mages from so centuries back during the Great Witch Hunt period.
‘I won’t accept it.’
“W-What?”
The child took a step back, surprised when Ongril started to stand up. Being so large he made her – who was always bigger than normal – feel like an insignificant ant.
“I, Ongril of the Red Tower, Brother of Fell, hereby adopt you as my daughter.”
He proudly announced, wanting to make sure not even the fog would hide his presence from all others. His voice bood mightily and echoed for all others to here.
“From this day forth, I na you Zana. Zana of the Swamp, my adopted daughter. Let it be known to any who wishes to bring harm upon her. Touch her, and you cross .”
As soon as he nad her a yellow light engulfed her. She could feel her body being riddled with power. Her mana soared through the roof. However, once the light cald down and she managed to reel in her power, she noticed that the dragon was no longer speaking.
“Ongril?”
She tapped his snout, but the dragon didn’t respond.
“O-Ongril?! Ongril! Ongr-il…”
She shouted her beast. Through tears and phlegm, she shouted so the whole world would hear, but her cries were shrouded by the unnatural fog that wished to shield her from the dangers of the world.
It was on this day, that Ongril the Dragon of the Red Tower died. A blessing to most, a curse to few, and nothing but pain to Zana. After a week of crying non-stop, Zana finally succumbed to hunger. She went out to feed, but all she found was Goliath the Sleeping Emperor.
It was on this day, that the Tyrant of the South, the Swamp Queen Zana took her first steps to overcoming her trauma and becoming the best version of herself that everyone wanted.
***
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
The necromancer exclaid with arms wide open.
“Zana of the Swamp.”
A foggy apparition of Zana before her stood about three feet above her. The apparition was scowling and even though it couldn’t possibly produce the sa amount as she was doing in her real form, the apparition retained a certain level of presence one would expect her to possess.
“Is this your way of signing yourself over to ?”
She asked, yet the apparition only stared at her.
“Hmm? You still have regrets? Co on, if you sign up, nobody has to die, except everyone.”
She mocked; her cracked face made for a horrifying smile. In her hands, the orb glowed a faint blue and humd with power. From monts souls could be seen bashing up against its innards, but to no avail.
“Do you see? The souls are so cheerful they cannot stop themselves from moving about so mu-“
KINK!
Before she could finish talking, the sounds of a weapon being deflected entered her ears. Looking behind her, one of her highest ranked undead held a halberd made of fog in his hands. The necromancer upon seeing this simply couldn’t contain her excitent.
“Fog that is just as deadly as iron? That is exactly why I want you first, Zana!”
The foggy apparition struggled against the grip of the undead, before simply leaving the weapon and fading back out into the atmosphere.
“I take this as your declaration of war, then? Haa~ I never planned on making it a silent affair in the first place. Let the slaughter begin.”
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