A Touch of Magic

She walked barefoot through the garden, the dark colored robes she wore to sleep gathering at her feet and collecting dirt. It was no matter to her, however, for she could easily clean it later.


It was early in the morning, the dew gathered on the leaves of her herbs as she bent down and whispered sweet words of encouragement laced with a touch of magic to help them grow healthy and strong. The herbs around her feet were of a great variety, from healing herbs such as sage to poisonous plants such as wolfsbane and nightshade.


All served their purpose and all were just as useful to the young witch, and she figured she would be needing all of it for the time that was to come.


Yes, she knew of the man that sought her out, his importance. The markings in the stone had told her that much during her last divination session, and she was certainly eager to see what he had to offer her.


Cora knew little about the man, other than his importance to the kingdom, and she cared little to learn more. After all, she would be seeing him face to face in no time at all.


Normally, when she knew that someone was getting near her cottage, she would cast a glamour to disguise it in the forest or a spell to lead wanderers astray whilst the witch managed to flee to another location. However, she would make an exception in this case, for the man who was on his way would be able to offer her much. And Cora? Well, she was just as eager to take.

At the beginning of the journey, the prince had left with a small entourage following him. He'd left the capital in full style, with a servant, two knights, and a good friend to keep him company. Dressed in full attire, half-cape with the family crest draped over his shoulder, his horse near the same, none of the civilians would have been able to mistake him for the king's son. But that was for the first leg of the venture.


What had first seemed like a straight course to the forest full of rumors became more harrowing the further out they went. The good friend was sent back to the capital, fearful of the plague as it became more apparent in the further villages. The pales, sickly skin and the horrid, hacking coughs. Jacques kept his eyes forward and a handkerchief over his mouth when he feared the worst of it.


By the second leg, and fearing that they were more lost, the servant went back with one of the knights. Still undeterred, Jacques kept going, heeding the words of the villagers as they were told they were getting closer to the cottage. But it didn't seem so, and before Jacques knew it, he was alone int he forest, looking far less regal than before. Dirty, tired, and somewhat ragged, he prayed as the horse trotted softly through the forest. The sun was coming up, making it much easier to see all the details in the distance.


He went towards what he thought was a home, but his own weariness made him unsure. He prayed he was right.

Cora was seated on a tree stump, a cup of tea held in her hands. It was an herbal blend, although nothing with any magical properties -- the tea was just simply soothing on her tongue. Her bare feet dug into the grass, dark robes pooling at the roots of the stump as if they were melting into the very ground.


As she finished her tea, she turned the cup over on top of the saucer, letting it sit for a moment before flipping it over once more and examining the grounds as a form of divination. A cryptic smile twisted her lips as the tea leaves only reinforced what she already knew to be true.


"Ah, it appears I have a guest," she mumbled to herself amusedly, setting the cup and saucer down on the stump as she gathered her robes. She could see the man through the tree line, just as she was sure he could see her. The prince looked a little worse for wear, but he was alone, just as Cora intended for him to be. Servants and knights were pesky little buggers, quick to draw their swords on a woman such as she. And Cora did not want all the knights of the kingdom to know where she resided. So a little intervention on her part made sure to deter this meeting from any... unwanted company.


And besides... if the prince wanted to see her so desperately, then he would have to work for it -- just as everyone else who sought her out for her magic.


Cora stood up from the tree stump and faced her visitor, who was nearing her cottage. "Out for a walk, Your Highness?" She asked, giving a mock bow towards the man and a roguish smile that only spoke of trouble.

A person standing up in the clearing was as much of a surprise as it was a relief. Jacques pulled against the reigns, bringing the horse to halt several feet from the woman. This had to be who he was looking for. And just in time for it to feel as though the forest surrounded them, the early morning light still casting heavy shadows.


Drawing in a deep breath, as though he hadn't breathed throughout the whole expedition, he peered down as she bowed, sarcastic in manner just as she was in word. "I suppose you could it could be put that way," Jacques said, and offered her a small smile before letting himself rest simply on the relief that he had gotten here.


But that was only the beginning, he was sure. He'd heard the rumors; the fact that he found this witch was more than luck, and it made him scared to think that she was anticipating his arrival. Guiding him, maybe, because he only seemed to feign being lost until he found the edge of the forest. Everything was quaint, from the cottage to the garden, and seemed more like a simple dwelling compared to the the stories of a dark house with dying shrubs and a cauldron bright as fire laid out to scare away the children. "You are who I seek, I hope. You are the Witch they tell stories of?"

"Hm," Cora hummed. "You people do so love those stories of yours." She stepped forward, circling around the man like a predator eyeing its prey. "I wonder which of those you heard?" She mused aloud, her bare feet silent against the grass as she came full circle.


The witch stopped when she was facing him up front once more, and lifted her gaze to meet his own, an amused glint in her eyes. "Although, the stories you heard couldn't have been that bad if you still came of your own free will, I suppose," she shrugged with a false casuality, leaning back and looking the man up and down. He was well-bred, of that much she could tell, even with his journey having left him dirtied and worn down.


"You need my assistance," she stated. It was not a question, she knew exactly why he was here, but she wanted to hear it from the man's own mouth before the witch made any demands of her own. "Come, let us discuss inside," she waved a hand at the cottage behind her. "I'll make us some tea." And with a fluttering of her robes, she turned back towards the cottage as if she were simply inviting a guest over for breakfast and not about to make a deal that could mean life or death for the very ruler of this country.

It took a second for Jacques to grasp what he needed to do, mostly because he was sleepless, and she was asking questions faster than he could open his mouth.


Something was unnerving about her-- not that she was fearsome; she seemed quite amicable, but it made a chill run up his spine.


Dismounting the horse and walking it to a nearby tree, Jacques tied the reigns to a branch and followed the mesmerising flutter of robes in towards the cottage. "Tea would be lovely," he managed, stepping inside behind her, thinking little that she knew why he was there. "And um...I've heard of...a dark character in hiding. If that's what you want to know about...stories," he tried not to make it seem like he thought she was evil, but he couldn't be sure.

"Ahh," she hummed as she set the kettle atop the small fire she had going in the fireplace. "I suppose I was not the decrepit old hag you were expecting then? Sorry to disappoint," she said sounding more amused than anything. The stories of her being an evil old woman were just as true as any other stories. For reasons she cared not to share, Cora would occasionally go under the guise of an elderly woman. It served its purpose every once in a while, but as a result, many of the stories about the legendary witch contradicted each other -- some depicting her as a hag, and others a younger looking woman. All were true, however, she liked to keep people guessing as to which guise was the true her. Few truly knew.


As the water came to a boil, Cora poured the boiling water over her own special tea blend made with the herbs from her garden into two simple-looking cups. She set them down upon a small table that was pushed against the window that looked out on the garden and gestured for Jacques to sit. "Now," she spoke, lifting the cup of tea to her lips, "let's discuss exactly why you're."

With little reluctance, Jacques took a seat and picked up the cup, feeling the warmth of it against his lips before taking a sip. It took him aback, and he thought only after that she might have enchanted it. Either way, having somethinf warm awoke him from a somewhat sleepy demeanour, and he cleared his throat.


"You put words in my mouth," Jacques said to her assumption, but nodded to her want to know why he was here. "I have come here with a purpose--there's an illness in the land and it has, unfortunately, taken the king." He said. Whether she had loyalty, or not, to the crown, may effect her feelings. "M-my father. He's very sick and I know--I've heard--that you're able to cure almost anything with your magic." The strength in his voice was waning from strength to something like a scared boy.

Her eyes remained fixed on the man across from without wavering, her expression carefully neutral even as she could tell how the man was getting emotional. "Almost anything," she repeated Jacques' own words. "This plague is .. peculiar - I have not encountered anything quite like it before," she sighed, taking a sip from her tea. Honestly, if she didn't know any better she would have been inclined to think it was magic in origin for it behaved unlike any plague she had encountered up until this point.


"You have not been the first to seek me out to help with this illness, and certainly not the last. I cannot guarantee the king's survival, just as I could not guarantee the others'," she spoke with a grimace that twisted her lips like a snarl as if the very idea of there being something out there that she had little power over displeased her greatly.


She had managed to cure a few people since the plague first began to spread, however it cost her a great deal of blood and energy to do so. And even then, it didn't always work. Typically, her job was either to ease the symptoms of the dying or still the winds around a town to stop the plague from spreading through the air. There was more powerful magic she could yet try, however -- so all was not lost. "I will help you," she finally spoke after a beat of silence. "But, it will cost you."

Without taking a moment to hesitate, he replied: "Of course, I had every intention of giving you whatever it was you needed to be able to do this. This is very important." But even as she said that, he was trying to read her very stoic face. She gave little away other than annoyance, and the plague seemed to be something of annoyance to her--even anger. Like there was little she could do. It was her eyes--dark, penetrating, that were maybe the most unsettled and forced him to look at the table.


And even though Jacques answer was swift, he quickly had to wonder what she would ask for. Being a witch, he expected the unconventional. Some strange herb, a need for a sacrifice--children maybe even. He flinched back, scaring himself, but he leaned back to hide it and sipped more at the tea.


"What do you want for this?" Jacques asked, wanting to rid himself of the fear and wonder.

"What indeed," Cora said, the corner of her lips twisting upwards in a grin that appeared almost as if it were a snarl. "You are so quick to promise so much of yourself. You must be truly desperate," she commented, taking a sip of her tea and turning the cup upside in its saucer as she had done earlier. She wasn't surprised that he was willing to offer just about anything though. Anyone who sought out the Witch of the Wilds truly was desperate indeed if the stories were not enough to deter them -- Prince Jacques was no exception.


Cora leaned forward in her chair, elbows resting on the table and fingers laced together for her to rest her chin on. "I will help you," she declared, staring at him fixedly with unblinking blue eyes. "But, in return, you must give me the Crown Jewel."

The quickness of his emotions to go from elated joy to stricken worry were enough to cause whiplash. The very thought of handing over a symbol his ancestors had fought so hard for was nothing short of terrifying. If it were his brother, denial would have been swift and soon, while in delirium, their father would have died.


Even as he clenched his fists in fear that sprouted anger, asking so much, Jacques knew he offered quite a bit for her to choose from. The anger could only be put on himself. So when he looked back up at her, convinced he saw a conniving smile that wasn't there, he replied: "It will be yours if you can help him." All of his fear, anger, and worry were hidden behind a face of calm stoicism.


"How quickly can we move out? We haven't much time--I wasted too long to get here." He admitted, the facade breaking for a moment. He reached for his own teacup and drank even beyond its emptiness, just to hide his expression.

Cora refilled her tea cup and raised an amused brow at the man's calm. She was impressed, it was not a request to be made lightly and not something to be given so freely. But, that showed this man's devotion, she supposed. This.. the witch thought, will be an interesting task indeed.





"I have little I need to bring. We can move out now if you so choose," she said offhandedly. "But first, we need more time." A sharp-nailed hand rose up and waved over the cup of tea. The tea began to swirl and reveal an image of the sickly king like that of a reflecting pool. Using her nail, Cora made a small cut on the inside of her wrist. Blood welled up along the cut and she tilted her wrist ever so slightly, allowing the blood to drip into the liquid and caused the tea to turn pitch black.


With a flurry of movement, she stood up from the table. "That should hold back his illness from spreading for a time," she stated. "But there is not much else I can do from so far away. Let me get ready and we can be off." Many of those who sought her out expect her magic to be flashy and powerful, but Cora had long since learned that the most powerful magic is the most subtle. She does not need to conjure a great ball of fire to show her power, she is just as effective with a simple cup of tea. With that thought, she left the room to head to her private quarters and gather her things.

As Cora had worked some sort of magic, the nuance of it was impressive, and he had to lean forward to watch, his curiosity forever getting the better of him. But the prince had to lean back in an attempt to not make her feel uncomfortable. He'd ask enough questions on the journey.


As she stood, so did Jacques, and at her hurry, the prince went outside of the cottage and looked around, wishing to find a well but not seeing one in sight. His water supply was low. Maybe he could ask her, but once they reached the next village he could restock. There was plenty of gold to be had.


Pulling off the cloak and throwing it over the saddle, Jacques looked down to how dirty form and sighed, it was a long way from the palace, and he was out of his element. For all he knew, this witch would kill him on their way and use his organs and bones for her rituals.


Going back inside, lingering in the open doorway, Jacques called: "Do you have a horse or are you riding with me....or flying?" He asked, half-sarcastic, half-honest, not particularly sure.

In her quarters, Cora quickly changed out of her robes and into something more suited for travel and draped a dark cloak over her shoulders. She grabbed a satchel and began filling up with the necessary supplies. She wasn't overly concerned with bringing everything she needed, they would be traveling a great deal so there would be plenty of opportunities to gather resources. If she needed herbs she could scavenge the forests, if she needed supplies, they would stop at a market, etc. Although she did make sure to bring a few glass vials with her to collect said herbs or to mix potions in.


With little else needed to bring with her, she was quickly ready to go. Stepping out of her room, she spotted the prince leaning against the doorway and grinned. With a flourish of her hand she dismissed his comment. "Flying is incredibly overrated," she denied. "I do not have a horse myself so it would appear I am riding with you, unless you would prefer I walk alongside. Either way, I think you'll find it incredibly difficult to leave these woods without my instruction."


She had done so purposely, long ago. It was the only way in which Cora was able to have some semblance of peace at the cottage without having unwelcome visitors appearing whenever they so choose. And when she was away, no one could ever hope to find her little dwelling so it was left undisturbed by the time she returned. The forests weren't impossible to cross. In fact, it was very simple -- one just has to stick to the trade route that connects the two villages on either side of the forest. It is when one strays from the path that they find themselves unable to find it once more.

"I can only imagine. Getting here was hellish enough as it was," said Jacques, and he made room in the doorway for her to leave, seeing that she hardly had anything inner person except the satchel. "It'd be rude of me and my chivalry to make you walk beside me. So long as Cellus gets water soon we should be fine until a village."


There was something...intriguing. His wasn't a woman he would welcome at court, dance with at a party, invite even for other electors curiosities to see the being who spawned the stories, but he did himself find her intriguing in the moment. The magic, the spells, the herbs. All dark topics avoided by a religious kingdom who spurned 'the old ways' except for those who clung to ancient beliefs. He wanted to learn, just to know. And with her likely holding his waist as they rode, it was his chance.


"I do apologise in advance--I'm something of the questioning sort. I'm likely to pester you the entire way there." At least Jacques was lifting his spirits.

"Very well, ask away," she replied honestly. "I'm sure I can keep up with your inquiries." To be honest, she was surprised at his curiosity into her magic. Most were all too quick to jump to conclusions and persecute her. That, or they did not care for the intricacies of magic only so long as the witch could give them the thing they sought for.


Cora strode past the man and to the horse tied outside to a tree. She reached out to the horse and untethered from its place and hopped onto the saddle. "You getting on or what?" She said, clasping the reins. "You need me to navigate out of this forest, don't you? So get on," she ordered, gesturing to the space in the saddle behind her.

Though Jacques always felt like the centre of attention, and the centre of command, he was mildly surprised to see her big literally and figuratively taking the reigns. Putting his foot in the stirrup and hitching himself up into the saddle, an immediate feeling of uneasiness hit him, and he wasn't sure if it was because he was being so comfortable or if it was because it been a long time since he hadn't been in control.


The plague took control away from everybody. His hands on her hips gently, touching back and forth as to whether or not he should. Finally he settled them to the edge of the saddle and kicked into Cellus' side to get him going.


"Well...I suppose I have to ask what is it you really do mostly? Everyone acts like you're just...a witch who casts curses and dark magic. Some...some think you've caused the plague." He ended, somewhat quiet.

Spurring on the horse, Cora began to guide the animal through a familiar path among the trees - one that only she knew. There was no trail that marked the way or wearing on the ground that showed a well-traveled path. In fact, the forest around them was dense and overcast, the sunlight just barely peaking through the brush. She went at a leisurely pace ahead as they went forward. Cora did not want to rush through this forest for one misstep and they would end up back where they started. Such was the way of this forest.


"I do many things," Cora answered cryptically and unhelpfully. "Sometimes that involves curses and killing. Sometimes it involves help and healing. I am simply what those who seek me out need me to be." The witch let go of one of the reins to wave a hand through the air. As she did so, the dense underbrush parted just enough to let their small party of two through before closing once more behind them. "I can promise you this, however," she said, taking a moment to glance back at the prince with her dark blue eyes. "I have no reason nor means to cause a plague of this scale. Casting such a curse would drain all the blood out of my body and for what? Chaos?"

Watching the surroundings, wondering if there was any way that he could actually tell where they were going and maybe remember it in the future. The way the brush moved made his eyes widen, and he couldn't help but be almost amused by all of it. It was something that he was trying to hide by allowing himself to pull back, but it was hard. Listening to her, though, was more interesting.


"You're not going to be very forward with me, are you?" the prince asked, but he took note that she wasn't the cause of the plague. Why would she? What did it give her that she would cause the plagues of the kingdom? Other than maybe trying to get help out others to seem better than she was. Then again, she didn't seem like the kind of woman that liked people. "I can't imagine why you would want to. But you hear things in passing. I...don't think I asked your name, have I?" Jacques realized. "I got caught up in the fact that you knew mine."

"I have been called many names in my lifetime," the witch responded with a smirk and an amused brow lifted after the man had called her out on being so cryptic. She thought about giving him a false name for this, but decided against it. Cora was not her real name anyways so what would be the harm in giving it to him? Her true name had been cast away ages ago.


"You can call me Cora, however," she answered as they broke through the forest and onto the familiar path of the merchant's trail. She slowed the horse to a stop as they arrived at the dirt path before hopping off and setting forward on foot. "There's a stream nearby, you mentioned the horse needs water, yes?"

Suddenly, it seemed like they had entered the familiar area. It seemed strange, because he felt like he had been wandering for hours when he finally found her cottage, and now she had gotten them out of the forest in a matter of minutes. Seeing her jump off, Jacques followed suit and took Cellus' reigns and lead him along the well-worn path. "Well, then it's nice to be travelling with you Cora. And yes...."


And he kept looking out for the stream that he could hear in just the distance. This was awkward; travelling with a witch put a target on their backs. Him being a prince did the same, though the sword that was slapping against the side of the horse. He stayed close nonetheless. Afraid that they may encounter something on their way, the more he thought about it, the more he actually worried. Then again, he did have a witch with him. "Why do you want the Crown Jewel?"

"Why does anyone want anything?" Cora asked at the question as they arrived at the stream. "Knowledge and power, obviously." She didn't deny it, Cora has done many things in order to gain power -- the legends told of that much already. And this was no different.


"Gems, minerals, and jewels have a certain.. Energy to them," she explained. "They help us witches focus our power, enhance it. They can even tell the future or reveal the past if one knows how to go about it." She slipped out of her sandals at the stream, dipping her feet in and bending over to collect a few herbs that she could stick in her pouch. This particular plant was plentiful in this forest but incredibly scarce elsewhere. She would save them both time and money if she collected some while they were still here as opposed to later.


"Can you imagine what such an old jewel knows? The stories it could tell, the secrets it holds so tightly," she spoke softly, staring at her own reflection in the stream's surface. "It has so much history and been in the hands of the kingdom's kings and queens for generations. That type of connection and residual energy is not something that can be found in a simple rock."

Letting go of the reigns by the stream, the horse ducking its head down to drink from the flowing water, Jacques pet at its neck before taking off his boots and settling by the stream, enjoying the chilled water on his feet, reaching his hands in and splashing water up on his face and to the back of his neck.


"It does hold many stories," said Jacques, knowing the things his father had told him about their bloodline. The things that he had learned from the scholars and the monks. "It's...nothing impressive. An old stone taken from kingdoms past. Before us were the Tynes, and it was said to be taken from the Great Elder himself, blessed in their hands to make a great and vast city."


Jacques shrugged, watching as she picked at the herbs. "It's power doesn't have to come through magic. You wield it in front of the commoners and they'll make you Queen. Not that you...seem the type of the people." he laughed a little bit. She was a recluse, he was going to poke fun at her for it.

Cora snorted, "Hardly. Queen is not something I desire - after all, a queen is simply a title that comes along with power. And I already have power without any title to my name." Her hands skimmed along the surface of the water, disturbing her reflection. "Well.." She paused, "unless you count the 'Old Hag who lives in the forest' as a title." Not the most flattering name but Cora would occasionally take the form of an old woman when she appeared before people.


For one, it made the accounts of encounters with her inconsistent. The stories of the witch of the wilds being an old woman directly contradicting that of a young, youthful woman so that no one truly knew what to believe. And also... Well the world was not such a forgiving place for a young woman out alone. Cora was perfectly capable of defending herself, but that was one obstacle she much preferred avoiding. It was inconvenient.