The upir is a type of vampire in Eastern European mythology. Generally described as dark-skinned and bloated, they are reanimated corpses who subsist on the life force of living people, usually by drinking their blood.
In Slavic folklore, the soul is thought to depart the body upon death. Proper burial rites must quickly be observed, lest the empty corpse be possessed by an unclean spirit, generally that of a murderer, an unbaptised child or one who suffered a violent death. These spirits can enter a recently deceased body and transform it into an upir.
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“Geralt!” Jaskier greeted him jovially. He sat down at the witcher’s table with a small loaf of bread and a mug of ale. “I have a proposition for you.” He slid both over to Geralt. If he took the food, he’d listen to the proposition. If not, that was that and Jaskier would go elsewhere.
Geralt knew this too, and while he hesitated, he did bring the food and drink closer. This was a routine, and while it hadn’t happened in years, they both knew what this really was.
“There are whispers on something happening in the next town over. Right now it’s a ‘series of coincidences’ but nothing is ever a coincidence.” Jaskier knew that Geralt was about to say something in his pause so he continued one. “I’ve already spoken to someone in the village and they agreed to pay half of the service upfront and half after, as well as a room and a meal for two nights so no worries there-”
“Did they describe anything?” Geralt interrupted. Jaskier smiled at this. Asking questions showed interest. And interest is what Jaskier needs.
“They said two girls with red hair, and they specified red hair, went missing two days ago, and then all of the chickens in the town died within hours of each other. And at night rocks can be heard being thrown every which way.”
“It sounds like those two girls are bored.” Geralt said, shoving a large piece of bread in his mouth and washing it down. “But the chickens are strange. I’ll leave in the morning to check it out.” Geralt got up and began to head towards the rooms.
“I take it you already have a room?” Jaskier teased.
“And a cub in my bed.”
“So you found her. I’d heard she went missing after the fall.”
“Hm.”
“Well then I’ll let you rest. Good night, Geralt.”
Across the flattened earth, they came under cover of night.
Like spectres, they had descended from their mountainous home.
Like ghouls, their eyes burned through the mists. Shadows cast by their terrifying visage, silhouettes of horns and claws and fangs.
The woman watched as the Ubir crossed the distance, a travelling caravan of fiendish looking warriors, making their way to the Dawn Throne. They donned themselves in thick furs, long cloaks of pelt and skin. Trophies and bones from their hunts adorning near every one that came. It was not an unusual sight, but the young Oronir had heard tales of the Ubir.
Of The Gaolers.
The Eaters.
Their Khan had come, seeking an audience with the Khagan. Unusual in of itself; to see the Ubir outside of their forests high in the spines of the mountains.
Worrisome, even, that these monstrous beasts would seek audience with the chosen of Azim.
She sighed, as she watched the guards hesitantly allow them entry. As they made their way to the height of the Dawn Throne, settling patiently upon the level ground, waiting.
The Khagan would not bend to the whim of mountain savages, they could wait, to say their piece; she thought.
Curiosity and concern, had her eyes seldom waver from their small gathering. A fire lit, as time passed. They huddled close, aware of the eyes that lay on them. All but one turning their back to the scrutinizing eyes and whispered words of the Oronir.
“Ghouls...”
“Gravekeepers...”
“Abominations...”
Their Khan, sat facing the seat of the Khagan, his eyes closed. The sight of him was enough to make her gulp. As imposing as the largest warrior of any tribe she’d seen. A mountain of a man, his presence palpable even as he sat cross legged. A man any would hesitate to approach, for certain.
It was that thought, that had her heart skip a beat, as brave or foolish enough, a huddle of children slinked up to the man. Curiosity alight in their bright eyes, enough to blind them to any wariness or worry.
“Is it true you eat the dead?”
“You eat eachother!”
“I heard you were ghosts who only come out at night!”
Her eyes went wide, feet rushing to carry her across the short distance, as she heard a rumbling sound, like the beginnings of a mighty roar. The Khan’s eyes opened, and his mouth split into something that looked like a terrible snarl, rows of sharp teeth bared.
Her blood ran cold, and her feet came to a halt, as she heard him laugh. As loud as any roar, harsh yet easy, like water crashing upon stone.
“You’ve heard many tales, little ones.” A wide grin creased his features, as he tilted his head at the children.
“Some of what you've heard is true. We consume monsters, so they cannot return to haunt us all.” His voice carried with it, the sing song quality of an old wives tale, the children quickly falling under the sway of a story. The Oronir woman approached slowly, soon finding her own eyes filled with curiosity.
“Monsters I’m sure you've heard of, young ones. Demons that snatch naughty children from their homes. Monsters that suck your blood, should you not finish your mothers meals!” The children gave way to a quiet fit of giggles, as the Khan of the Ubir threw his arms wide for dramatic effect. “We are torchbearers, that light the night, we illuminate the monsters so they cannot hide.”
“Ahh...” He cast a cursory glance to the woman, as she settled behind the children. “And what else you’ve heard...”
“Yes...We eat the dead. So they may not rise. And the creatures of the shadow realm known as the void, so they may not return.” He nodded. “But, I will tell you this, young ones...”
The children leant in, as he gestured for them to come closer. His eyes looking left and right, before he met his fiery gaze upon the Oronir woman, a secretive, knowing look, as he took a deep breath.
“I prefer the taste of children!” He roared, suddenly lunging forward to throw his arms out. The children squealed, reeling backwards as they lost themselves to fits of laughter. The Khan’s face bright and grinning.
“...I would not think you fond of children, Ubir.” She spoke softly, a hesitant smile creasing the corner of her mouth.
Chuckling, Temujin glanced back to her. His features softer now, eyes glazing over with melancholy as he let out a heaving sigh.
“These lands will be theirs, one day. Everything we do, we do for them. No?”
“And besides...”
“A father never forgets, how to make a child laugh.”
Jaskier watched as he went up. His wasn’t sure he liked the way it made him feel.
“That was easier than I thought.” A voice said behind him. The woman turned him around and pulled at his waist.
“We could have asked him for help out right.” She kissed at his neck. “He would have been more than willing.”
“Maybe,” She laughed, “But what’s done is done. Now, I have work to do to make sure everything is ready, and you, darling, have a role to play. Now act.” Her voice grew cruel and Jaskier rolled his eyes.
“Darling, you are about as threatening as a plucked begonia. Now run along and play your game.” He watched as her she disappeared into the tavern.
Jaskier was absolutely sure that Geralt would have help them, they truly needn’t put on such a badly done charade. Geralt may not like Jaskier, may never have, but he was a good man. He wouldn’t just let something like this happen and not try, or at least look into the problem. Honestly, if it were up to Jaskier, he would have told Geralt of the horrors occuring. The deceit was only going to blow back in their faces.
The Elder spoke softly across the flames, features obscured by the acrid smoke. Colours swirling up from the crackling embers, gently wafting into the night sky upon the chill breeze.
The Khan inhaled deeply, slowly opening his eyes, his voice like stone, softened by the daze of the smoke.
“The same again. Darkness. The world fallen into shadow.”
The Elder nodded. “Imbalance. The world sits on a knife edge. It will tip into the void, and be destroyed, if left unchecked.”
Temujin let out a breath, smoke upon his lips, eyes burning as brightly as the very flames he gazed into, searching for answers.
“Is what I see true?” He looked up, gentle gaze turned to the clear, night sky.
“It is. The long night comes, Temujin. The time of The Great Devouring will be upon us.”
Temujin hummed, reaching up to his chest, fingers rubbing the bone charms that hung from his neck.
“Are we them?”
“The Khan’s Who Consumes.” She bowed her head.
Temujin sighed. “Are we the ones who will lead our people, on this task? To consume, and consume, until we devour the void itself? What if we cannot be this?”
The Elder smiled, leaning forward, features obscured by smoke and shadow, and medicinal haze.
“You must be, Temujin, now, more than ever. Your dreams are not false. You and your sister must lead this crusade.”
Pushing himself to his feet, the Khan of the Ubir stood to his full height. Looming above the Elder, embers and ash cascading around him. The immense form of the Xaela casting a shadow across the fire, a monstrous silhouette in the smoke.
“Light the lanterns. Summon the tribes. Then, if we are to defeat the darkness...”
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Finally got myself in gear and finished a new #blog! It feels like a lot longer than a month since #kakadu and starting this amazing #adventure... https://hexandpeps.wordpress.com/2016/09/16/the-outback-adventure-begins/ #ntaustralia #ubir #whataview #blueskies #australia #girlslovetravel
