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Water Belongs to the Dead

Sadly, on indefinite hiatus as I suck at writing FL (I suck at ML too but less) A healer woman with a gun falls for the right-hand man of her sworn enemy. Serenica Ingram is a cold-hearted action heroine, a doctor and a healer witch. She's searching for patients to keep her job in a fantasy world when she finds out that a local businesswoman wants her dead. The enemy has her own weapons against Serenica - an army of city guards, social power, and most of all, the male witch whose visits bring trouble along with something else. A feeling. When Serenica finds out that the businesswoman is courting her most trusted lieutenant, something within her iron heart moves. The love triangle takes her across an ocean as she hitches a ride from pirates while collecting resources to take her enemy down. Three witches, two of them women, guns. Action. Serenica has an obligation to hate the rest of them, but with the Ink Witch, it's simply impossible to fulfill her duties. She needs gold to be the best doctor in the land of Sennas. He needs to dethrone the businesswoman, Mariana Kinley, to expand his princedom. Kinley needs to soothe her paranoias by killing all other witches. Everyone is a violent bastard. R18 for blood.

IkuSaari · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
12 Chs

EDC

Helen didn't seem to care about the brains she had all over her casual dress.

After all, it wasn't an expensive one. Cost only half of Serenica's yearly income. Unless Helen also liked to lie about her spending habits.

"Gods!" Helen gasped.

Serenica looked at her.

The doctor knew she was bad at displaying genuine concern with her expressions. She tried.

Helen knew her well enough.

"Are you alright?" the blonde woman gasped.

Serenica happened to look at the teacup on the table.

The tea was no longer a human-appropriate beverage due to a fair amount of human tissue in it.

"Yes," Serenica replied. "Are you?"

This had happened before the first whiff of pipe tobacco in the morning. Serenica fixed herself a little nugget of loose leaves that were a bit too moist for the occasion. The throat hit was decent, but nowhere near optimal.

"No," Helen said. "I don't think I should stay around much longer."

"You should leave," Serenica agreed.

She knew Helen wanted her to talk back.

The blonde shrugged, resigned to her fate, and packed up her things. She always slept on the kitchen couch as Serenica needed her private space.

The apartment also functioned as an office. Right now it didn't look like a competent doctor's hiding place. It didn't even look like a hospital tent on a battleground.

It straight up appeared like a butcher was working here.

Serenica Ingram sighed and grabbed a bucket and a mop.

She left a few blood stains to appear more credible in her job. She knew someone would be coming for her. The witch made her suspect they had been doing something more than threatening her. Or whatever the cool kids called witch hunting these days. Why else would the witch have disappeared at command? No, this had been an intel mission.

Serenica knew the witch had either given up or gotten exactly the information he wanted. What information had he gathered?

Serenica could deal with guns? That was hardly a rare talent.

Still, that was her best guess. Were they planning an ambush and trying to gouge out what weapons she had at her disposal?

"They could have asked me," she muttered. It disappointed her to find out such a mundane reason for her shock at first. When she thought about it, it actually became quite flattering.

They had already clocked her as a dangerous individual.

When it came to hiding the bodies, being a doctor was a bit worse than being a gravedigger.

It was only after she laid down on the kitchen couch that still had Helen's perfume on it that she broke.

Not all glass shattered the same way.

Finally letting the shaking pass through her arms and hands, she felt waves of terror all over her body. No tears came.

"I swear to the Root Mother," she began her prayer out loud but stopped in the middle of it.

She shook her head. If she was going to perform to the old gods, she might as well pick one she believed in.

"Mother of Worms, if you take one more from me, one more human being, I will kill you. Death will be dead unless you do as I ask," she whispered.

She shook no more.

Her eyes glimmered with some wet stuff. To an alchemist, it would have been salt water. She couldn't connect the liquid to the pain in her chest.

She wiped her face and got up.

Serenica had a couple surprises in a locked cupboard.

None of them were guns. That was sad.

The first was a folding knife. Easy to carry and conceal, easier still to flick open due to the great locking mechanism. The second was a sword.

It was a military grade weapon, hard and flexible Karshaan steel. It did the job of any sword while piercing with more strength. For a survival knife, Serenica had a regular fixed blade knife.

She strapped every weapon to her belt, except for the small folding knife that she hid in her boot.

She walked out.

No matter which expensive linen clothes one chose, the rainy season was too much. A second, wet skin appeared around Serenica as soon as she had left the protection of her walls.

She spent the minimal amount of money on her appearance. She'd be old soon, anyway, and a witch was still a witch. Her brain wouldn't get any wrinkles no matter how hard she tried.

"Fuck Helen for being ready to sell me," she muttered. "I swore that I'd defend her with my life. Now, I'm not so sure anymore."

She strolled downtown.

Each corner reminded her of something the blonde had said that had made her doubt the nature of Helen's loyalty. Fair-weather friend!

Serenica was slow to forgive. She decided against doing any information gathering with a clouded head.

The Blue Girl was a much better idea.

She'd be likely to find customers there. The owners had named the place after someone had thrown a prostitute through the window. The city guards had revived the strangled woman whose face had indeed been blue. She had stirred and returned to the tavern to accept a few free drinks.

Serenica pushed the door open.

A wave of tobacco smoke hit her. She felt like she was dying.

In this dizzy state, she walked in and saw someone inside she didn't want to think about.

The male witch.

At first, her instincts kicked in, moving her hands to her weapons.

Then she remembered where she was. She'd get shot. The man didn't have to do anything about it.

He got up, raising his right hand and gesturing to her without looking at her.

Follow me, said his fingers.

I'll kill you, said the coldness surrounding him.

She followed him to the restroom.

"We'd be able to burn this house down easily," he said.

An offhanded comment. It made her chuckle a bit.

"So, let's not make this harder than it needs to be." He wasn't smiling, but nothing about him was threatening any longer, either. Her guns and his offensive magic canceled each other out.

"Someone sent you," Serenica said.

He nodded.

"I suppose I need to bribe you," she continued. "Short on gold right now."

"No need for that." He shook his head. "You're a good doctor but lacking in witchcraft. I feel terrified about accepting favors from you. Bad luck to accept money from a poor witch."

Serenica raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

"I want you to do something just for fun," the man said. "I want you to kill your blonde friend. Then you'll learn who gives me my orders."

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