Story Witch Light ((Trigger warnings will apply where I think appropriate))

[Shy2Infinity]

Chapter 1 - Truth is Fickle ((TW: Death/Discrimination))

​

She could hear them.

The truths that everyone hid, and the truth ringing clear or false in their voices. Such a fine tapestry that they weaved, in a world of liars.

Witches aren’t evil by default, but they were hunted regardless. No matter their situation, no matter how lonely of a life they lived. Their powers were evil, demonic, and sinful. They weren’t even seen as human, although, perhaps that’s the truth? Who could say? They were monsters, spouted the people. And she couldn’t even tell if that was a lie, it rang true to the people.

“No, we’re not!” Yelled the witches, and even that rang true to her.

Perhaps the truth was more fickle than anyone really thought, to be so easily bought and favored. She didn’t really have a formed opinion to care either way. Monsters or humans, they were all going to die either way. Whether by someone’s hand, or by old age. The truth held sway over her entire life, and she wasn’t person enough to resist the allure.

She just wasn’t allowed to simply be. Her very presence inspired those around her to speak the truth, no matter how grave it was. Her being wasn’t good or evil, it simply was. Just like the secrets she’s learned; the truths she’d inspired. They say when she was born, a piercing light burnt the sky, and a kingdom’s oracle devined her existence…

As the Witch of Truth, a witch whose very presence brought the truth right out into the open.

And she was turned into the most hunted witch from then on. After all, in a world of lies, everyone wanted to ensure that their secrets were never brought out into the open. It was unfortunate. All she - and many like her - really wanted was a chance to live again.

In order to avoid as much trouble as possible, she moved far away, where she would never be recognized. Into a little cabin outside of a bustling city.. Her only companions were the plants she looked after, the wild life, and a little calico that had made her house its home. She hadn’t named it yet. She was still waiting for the perfect name to come to her.

This was where she spent most of her time, tending to the herbs she grew, exploring the forest around her, and playing with her cat. But sometimes, she was forced to go into town. After all, not everything she needed could simply be gotten from the woods.

A cloak kept her form hidden from the outside world, and she didn’t dare utter an unnecessary word to a single soul. Her dark red hair cascaded down her back, twisted into a braid. Blue eyes, as pure as any gem, looked upon the world with dark cynicism. She gripped the folds of her cloak tightly closed as she took those tentative steps into the city beyond, where the many hidden truths ate at her.

She hurried on, unwilling to let herself dally for a single moment. ‘Lest she allow others' truths to surface, and they figure out that there’s a witch in the area. The witchling pulled a handwritten note out of her pocket and peered at it. There were things on there that she needed, such as bread, cheese, glass jars (she was running low on containers), apples, and more. This was the lower half of a page she’d ripped out of her journal, and it still had her name written across the top: Lunelle.

“Welcome, dear! My bread’s fresh hot out of the oven!” The baker’s smile widened at the sight of her, her eyes twinkling in joy. “That’ll be--”

She nodded, giving a forced smile of her own as she handed off her money. Most of the people in this town tended to be kind, to those that looked human. But she knew, if given the chance, they would turn on her. It’s happened time and time again, to those more trusting than she. Witches tend to be the most trusting, the most naive, when they’re first brought back from death.

No one quite understood why they were allowed to live again at all.. She’s met some witches that could remember having been dead, but the memories were blurry at best. She was one such witch. All she could remember was a gentle hand and a sad smile…

Reality intruding was like a blast of cold water, as the lady set the still warm bread on the counter in front of her. Luckily, she hadn’t seemed to notice any of the inner workings of her mind. After grabbing the bread and wishing the woman a farewell, she prepared to leave, when a shout outside caught her off guard. She turned to survey people hurrying past the windows, loud chatter making her heart beat faster.

“Oh, is it time already?” The baker muttered, pressing a hand to her cheek.

“T-Time? Time for what?” She heard the truth, before it even left the woman’s lips.

The woman looked at her, a frown making her face bitter. “Why, for the execution of course! Someone’s found a witch, it seems.”

Her heart thumped harder in her chest and she turned to leave, but the woman’s mouth opened again and with her next words, her stomach sank.

“You know that there are some people that keep witches as workers, instead of killing them? Truly a barbaric practice! I say the knights should just break into those places, and kill everyone! Even the witch sympathizers! It’d snuff out the witches and stop everyone from taking in those monsters!” The baker’s mouth snapped closed and the magic dispersed. She laughed shakily and put a hand to her lips, face coloring as she turned sheepish. “Ah… I’ve never spoken that much about them before, I apologize. But you agree with me, don’t you?”

The world seemed to narrow into a pin point focus. Her breathing came faster as what she really wanted to say traveled across her tongue like acid. She swallowed against it, reaching up to grasp her throat. She could have choked on it. The word that escaped in a whisper was harsh enough that she wanted to snatch it back. “Yes…”

Even though she was no longer looking, she could feel the woman’s glee. “I knew you would agree! You’ve always seemed like such a rational girl.” Every word was sharp and pointed, like a needle; stabbing right into her back. The woman’s smile was no longer kind; it was cruel, a lie.

She didn’t bother to answer the baker again. Instead, she left. But instead of going home like she very much wanted to, she followed the crowd. Every step was weighted with the harsh knowledge of what she would find. Whispers echoed around her, but she knew it wasn’t everyone speaking aloud; they were all silent. No, she was listening to what they really thought.

“An execution? Finally!

“Kill them! Kill them!”

“When will they hurry up with this? I’m done with waiting.”

She stumbled once, twice, and thought about turning back… But some odd part of her pushed on, unable to stop its own curiosity. Finally, they were there and her body almost seized up.

There was a gallows, upon which a witch stood. She was staring into the crowd with a look of defiance on her face. Despite how she must know that the crowd wished ill upon her, she didn’t show her fear. Or, perhaps she didn’t feel any?

It took her a moment to notice the crowd’s chants:

“Die!”

“Kill the witch!”

“Hang her!”

She looked around rapidly, recognizing the touch of her magic as it brought the people’s thoughts into the open. It was like a domino effect, when the first person had spoken, more and more people joined them. Perhaps the witch recognized the chanting for what it was, because she searched the crowd for a moment - until their gazes locked and despite the chanting, Lunelle heard her words clearly.

“Ah, how ironic.” A small smile crept across her face, and she couldn’t read the emotion there.

A man to the witch’s side unrolled a scroll. “This witch has been sentenced to death for freely participating in witchcraft. They’re a monster, not even fit to be considered alongside humans.” The man took a moment to pause and sneer towards the woman in question. “Their entire existence is a crime, and with this hanging, let their sins be purged!”

“Let their sins be purged!”

The yell surprised her. She winced and shrunk back, looking around quickly for an escape. There wasn’t one, not really. If she left suddenly, someone might think that was suspicious. So she looked back up towards the gallows, but someone was staring at her… A person she hadn’t noticed before. A gruff looking man with a scar over his eye. While one eye was closed, the other was disturbingly clear. He wore the fancy armor of a general - someone very high up in the guard. His lips twisted into a sneer, the longer he watched her.

“I don’t think it’s my sins that need to be purged,” the voice was a surprise after so much chanting blood lust. It was calm and measured, far more than the people that surrounded her. Her gaze raised to the witch once more, to see that she was staring out over the crowd. “You’ll never kill us all! There’s more of us than you all seem to think, and we will rise. It doesn’t matter how many of us die,” the longer she spoke, the angrier her tone of voice grew. “There will always be another! And we will destroy you for killing our brethren!”

The witch’s eyes flicked to hers, and she realized with startling certainty that those words weren’t meant for the humans, but for her.

“This isn’t the end. So long as there’s still another one of us, we’ll get up and keep fighting. We didn’t endure so much frustration, heart ache, and death just to be eradicated now. Search for the light, and you can never be wrong.”

Before she could think over those words, the executioner seemed to grow impatient. A vein leaping out onto his head, he reached for the lever and pulled. She gasped and bowed her head, pressing her hands sharply to her ears. Despite that, she couldn’t block out the noises of the crowd around her, cheering for the witch’s death. She doesn’t know how or when she leaves, only that she numbly carries herself to the city’s gates, groceries held close to her chest.

That witch’s last words rang over and over and over in her head...

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Chapter 2 - The Cat's Out of The Bag (TW: Discrimination)

​

Magic was truly a fearsome thing, to garner so much death and ill wishing. The true horror, she thought, came from the evilness of a society hellbent on perfection and remaining sinless. By their own standards, they were just as sinful as the witches. Though, at the end of the day, she knew that they just didn’t care at all. There was little to be done for a society that would have rathered the things they didn’t understand killed off.

Many of the witches had elected to go into hiding, to avoid having their new lives cut short. Of course, there were many others dissatisfied with the way their lives had taken a turn, and did everything in their power to change what fate had in store for them. She was one of the former; and while she couldn’t very well stay in hiding for long, she also couldn’t deny how easy it was.

To ignore everything, and let other people make changes for you. But was that really the right choice? Ah, she supposed that even she had those kinds of philosophical thoughts.

Coming back from the city, she’d spent a lot of time with her cat. It seemed like the Calico had noticed that she was in a bad mood, as he came right up to her and licked her hand fiercely. It stung, but seeing the cat’s worry perked her up a little bit. She sighed and bent down, scooping it up into her arms. As she hugged the cat close, the calico bumped her glasses with a well timed head butt.

She stifled a laugh, reaching to correct her glasses. It didn’t take long for tears to form and, with a sigh, Lunelle set her glasses on the table.

“There… Was an execution today,” she told the kitty. In response, the cat cocked its head. Tears burned her eyes and she took in a shaky breath. The jeers of the crowd still echoed in her mind. Setting the cat aside, Lunelle stood and moved to her room. She continued on to her wardrobe, where she pulled out a fraying journal. After brushing a hand gingerly along its cover, she took a seat and considered what to write.

She was a Witch of Truth, but that didn’t mean that her brain was full of all these esoteric truths that only she knew. No, she had to get them out of her head some way, somehow. One way of doing that was by writing it all down. Her journal was full of scribbles throughout various days of things she’s learned from other people (though not necessarily because they told her).

Chewing on her lip, Lunelle set pen to paper and paused. So many thoughts circled around in her mind, bleeding over into an incoherent mass of noise. It was difficult to know just where to begin, and she tried to not write without thinking. Her earliest dates included exactly what happened if she were to do just that.

There was an execution today, she penned after a moment. It seems that most people are still not ready to consider witches as people. The bakery mentioned… And like this, she penned everything that she could remember from that day. The execution itself was something that gave her pause.

Dwelling on the memory was… Distressing, to say the least. Her heart constricted whenever she thought of that woman, whose defiance only seemed to enrage the people further. She hadn’t seen them getting hanged, but she’d heard it. The choking gasps, the frantic wriggling as the woman struggled to get air, the piercing silence after the fact.

Her hand shook a little bit, and her grasp tightened.

The woman’s last words though… That was something to note. “Search for the light, and you can never be wrong.” From her research, that had been a greeting from witches to witches in times past. It had started dying out as a greeting after she came back to life. Although, interestingly, it seems that a clan of witches had recently brought the greeting back.

She sat back and considered her journal entry. Was that witch a part of that clan, or was she simply someone that agreed with the clan’s ideologies? That was the important question here, or perhaps not so important. As much as she hated the idea of letting curiosities rest, the witch was long dead. There was little hope that she would be able to get any answers now.

Letting out a frustrated huff, she slid the journal back into its hiding place.

A noise from the other room made her jump, and with a wry smile, she glanced towards the living area. “What do you think you’re doing in there, mister?” The clatter abruptly stopped and the calico cat padded into the door frame, only to let out a throaty meow. Squinting at the cat, it suddenly occurred to her why the calico might be making a fuss. She let out a laugh and shook her head, “Alright, alright. I get it. It’s food time, hm?”

As she started past the cat, she slipped a hand down and ran it along the cat’s soft fur. A content purr was her answer, drawing a smile wider across her face.


He was gone.

Her cat was gone!

Early the next day, she’d gone and shaken the container of cat food she kept on a high shelf, expecting that it would draw her cat in. But there was nothing. She frowned and propped her arm up on a hip. Okay, it was fair enough. Sometimes that dastardly devil liked to draw out the time as much as possible, only to come bother her for food some hours later.

She wasn’t too worried at this point. The young witch figured that her cat would show up later, so she waited. As she watered her garden, she expected to hear an indignant meow. But there was nothing of the sort. And there would be no hide, tail, or sound from the little gremlin as she continued about her day. By the time lunch came around, a sickening lurch began in her stomach.

She decided to look for him.

Lunelle looked in all of his favorite places, beginning with under her bed, hidden in a cupboard, stuck in a bucket or on her roof (he was perfectly capable of getting down but he liked to think that he wasn’t), and even in the surrounding area. Her cat was decidedly an indoor cat and hated going outside. In fact, he only seemed to be outside if he was coming to get her. But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t outside, of course.

As she looked, she called out for him, hoping that he would prance out of some stupid hiding spot with that smug expression of his.

She sucked in a sharp breath as she paused, looking around her green surroundings. Shaky though she was, she clumsily took her glasses and cleaned them on the hem of her shirt. They didn’t need to be cleaned, it was just a habit she’d long formed. After placing them on the bridge of her nose, she looked around the area again, hoping that by doing so her cat would just magically appear.

Nothing.

The area was ominously silent around her, as if anticipating where the next shoe would fall. There weren’t that many kritters playing in the underbrush and while, normally she might have found that odd, she was too caught up in her worry to pay it any notice. Her home that was normally so warm and welcoming, seemed like such an eerie presence in the forest that day. She could almost imagine it coming to life and swallowing down any cute, unlucky animal.

It was ridiculous. She was a witch! She’s seen enough unnatural stuff in her whole life to know that not every supernatural happening was malicious in nature. Sure, some witches could be bad but the vast majority just wanted to live normally. Like humans.

She was so focused on her own inner turmoil, that she almost missed it. The paper weighted down by a rock. When she took notice, she did a double take. Not sure if that had been there the whole time, she hesitated only slightly before bunching it between her fingers. Messy handwriting was scrawled across the yellowing parchment, such that she almost couldn’t make out what it said, but what she read chilled her blood.

“I have your cat. If you want it back, you’re going to meet me at The Claw. Tell no one, and certainly come alone.”

It would be easy to scry for more information out of that piece of paper. To see if whoever took her precious friend was a woman, male, in between or not. It would be easy to get a glimpse of their appearance, to maybe glean their age and, if she was lucky, to glean their mental state when they had written that note.

Except for the panic twisting her throat, causing her breath to shorten.

“The Claw” was just a nickname for a tavern that only opened at night, though calling it a ‘tavern’ would have been putting it rather lightly. It was a gathering place where criminals of all sorts could gather, or for the dregs of the city that didn’t have a place in the daylight world. It was the sort of place where witches could gather without fear that they would be turned in. Because in that place, everyone was on equal footing.

And even if someone caused trouble, the owners immediately put a stop to it. It was a place that was pretty much hidden, even from the city’s authority. If the authorities discovered that place because someone was angry at a witch, then everyone was screwed. Not just the witch.

She stared at the sheet of paper for a bit longer as a strange fog drifted through her mind, bringing with it an unsettling clarity. If someone had taken her cat, and brought him to The Claw, then that could only mean that the person had done so knowing that she’s a witch. The business that they wanted to conduct with her likely had something to do with that.

It couldn’t be from the city’s guard. They weren’t quite so clever to simply spring a trap on her, much less catnapping a cat to do it. They touted around their authority, expecting people to simply fall in line because they were ‘the authority’. No, it definitely wasn’t anyone from the guard.

Who else would be dumb enough to challenge a witch…?

It didn’t matter. Someone had taken her precious friend and they weren’t going to get away with that.

She hurried inside to prepare. While she wasn’t necessarily a combat type of witch, there were a couple of things she’d picked up over the years to dissuade unsavory individuals from picking fights with her. She snatched at a bag and set it aside, palming through her things to take up a dagger. She didn’t have to touch the tip to know that it was sharp. Giving a self-satisfied nod, she clipped its sheath around her lower leg. And then grabbed her journal. She cast it a searching once over, fingernails digging into the soft material. Letting out a slow breath, she released her grip and set it inside her bag.

There were times when she’s had to ‘weaponize’ the truth, but it never failed to give her a bitter after taste. The truth wasn’t meant to be turned into a weapon! It was meant to be used as a tool, and nothing more! And yet, sometimes, she had no choice.

After making sure she was sufficiently prepared, Lunelle headed out and gazed up into the sky. Judging from the lengthening shadows, it was starting to turn into evening. Gripping the strap of her bag tightly with one hand, she clutched the folds of her cloak tightly around her, and hurried into the city. The guards paid her no heed as she passed them by and, if anything, seemed deathly ill with boredom.

That was certainly a dangerous thing. When people were bored, they did ridiculous things to relieve themselves of it.

The crowd was beginning to thin out that day, with it growing so close to night. Lunelle held the folds of her cloak close and cautiously checked over her surroundings as she made her way through the town. She ignored the whispers that echoed around her, threatening to draw her in. Tempting as they were, she paid them no heed on that trip.

The shadows continued to lengthen into night and by that time, the streets had vacated. Glancing up at a swinging lamp, the young witch’s eyes glowed an electric blue. Lunelle’s feet echoed on the pavement, making her wince every so often. This town had a curfew, because of the ‘sudden increase in witch sightings’ - it was all bullshit - and as a result, she had to be very careful to avoid the patrolling guards.

She took to the alleys with a flip of her cloak when she heard the heavy clank of armor drawing near. As she hid in an alleyway, she could faintly hear the guards chatting to themselves…

“I heard that witch’s bounty was doubled!”

Hiding against the wall, those sudden words pricked at her hearing. She took in a deep breath before glancing around the corner, where heavily armored men stood just outside of the alleyway. They loitered there, seemingly not in a hurry to continue their patrol.

The other guard shrugged, looking pretty bored. “So? It’s just another witch, right? Bounties get doubled all the time!”

“No, no, no. You don’t get it!” The guard exclaimed, gesturing a hand rapidly. “This isn’t just any witch! It’s the witch! The one that presides over truth or some shit.”

“Huh…” The bored looking guard caressed his stubbled chin thoughtfully. “I thought that witch was just a rumor.”

“Nope!” The first guard stared back at him smugly. “Whoever they are, they’re gonna have bounty hunters, mercenaries, maybe even witches looking to cash in that good money!”

Her heart quickened and she pulled back sharply. Her hands were clammy. All this time, she’d done her best to avoid notice and other than that seer prophesying her arrival, she had succeeded. But soon, all of that would prove to be of little use. Everyone would be looking for her soon enough, and it didn’t matter how careful she was. Sooner or later, she would mess up.

“Hey!”

The sudden shout shot her heart right into her throat, and only after pausing a few seconds, peered around the corner again. There was a heavily armored and heavily decorated knight staring down the two men. The knight’s red eyes were sharp, and the two guards straightened to attention right away.

“C-Commander Styx!”

Styx. She’d heard of them. They were a commander of much rumor. Stern, ambitious, and willing to do anything for their kingdom. They fought with a polearm decorated with the symbol of their kingdom, the three headed serpent. It was said that the blade of the commander’s weapon was made with metals that repelled magic. It seemed like a lot of hogwash, but she wasn’t too interested in seeing if that were true.

“And just what have we here, gentlemen?” The commander’s voice was rough and despite that the two guards were taller, there was a fair bit of respect in their eyes, and fear. “Pray tell, you couldn’t possibly be shirking your duties, hmm?” They had no trouble staring down their nose at the guards. The blade of their pole arm caught the dim lantern light and threw it back into the guards faces.

“N-No, not a-at all! We were just talking about the witch! You know, that one! The one with the doubling bounty? The one that makes people tell the truth?”

“Hm?” The commander’s eyes cut a straight and sure path right down the alleyway towards her hiding spot.

She rested her weight against the wall, breathing rapidly into the night air. With each second that passed, she waited for the commander to stride right to her hiding spot and arrest her. Sure, she would do her best to run, but she had no doubt that they would catch her.

A hand against her pounding heart, she closed her eyes against the panic threatening to rise like acid in her throat.

“S-Something wrong, commander?”

“No, not at all.” She almost missed those words, whispered as they were. “Come. I have a new errand for you both.”

She didn’t wait for them to leave. Turning on her heel, she headed a different way. But as she hurried away, a new thought occurred to her.

I… Don’t think my magic affected her?

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Chapter 3 - Cat and Mouse

​

The thought that the commander was up to something was almost enough to make her want to follow, but the fear of capture was more than enough to discourage her. She glanced behind her more than once, checking to make sure that no one was secretly following her, and she didn’t sense anyone there. She might have relaxed by now if it wasn’t for the constant threat of being found.

But other than that mishap, there weren’t any more cases where she got held up and that was just as well. The thought that her cat was currently in the hands of a stranger did not make her feel comforted.

Tiptoeing out into plain view, the witchling scurried over to a bare wall. The wall was bare of any maring across its surface, other than the pink bricks that held scratches - signs of its long life. She hesitantly held both hands out to the surface, touching the tips of her fingers to the bricks - and the wall faded beneath her fingers. Stifling the flash of surprise, she took in a deep breath and hurried through. As she passed through, the dim light from the main street was gradually snuffed out. Lunelle turned to look and noticed that the wall was back in place.

“I guess the rumors were true…”

Before she could consider it any further, a light burned the darkness away. Her gaze fell to a softly glowing lamp. She looked from it to the figure. They were cloaked and even with the lamp being held so close to their face, she couldn’t see many of their features. There was the firm set of lips, prominent cheekbones, and eyes that surveyed her without the normal traces of wariness. But that was all.

“Come along, Miss witch.”

Offering a nod to her escort, she complied. She’d heard tales of a witch that worked with the owner of The Claw. The witch that worked with him was apparently one that could create wards, a kind of protection magic. That kind of thing would have been perfect for a place that harbored criminals of all types, and no one would have dared to go after them, with their ties to the tavern owner.

Though she wondered how it worked. How did this witch know who to let through? Could they sense if certain people harbored ill will? She was tempted to ask, and might have if she weren’t a little preoccupied with their surroundings.

There was something distinctly ominous about following a cloaked figure through a dark alleyway, with nothing but one lone lamp to guide them. Its soft, orange light danced against the walls, bringing neighboring shadows to life. She wasn’t normally one to be so easily spooked, but even her heart skipped a few beats and she had to remember that no one had followed her through. Her guide would make certain of that.

Clasping her hands together, she stared at her guide’s back and after a moment decided to ask the question that had been weighing on her mind.

“How… Do you know who to let through?”

The witch’s head cocked, the only sign that they had heard her at all. Silence descended and they worried that the witch wouldn’t speak, but then -- “I --” They whirled around, eyes blazing.

She shrunk back, worried that this would mean bad news for her. How could she possibly ever hide her magic if she couldn’t even control it?

“Haaa….” She’d just gotten the glimpse of a humorless smile playing at their lips as they turned away. “I see the Witch of Truth has come to grace us with her presence.” They paused, the sounds of their footsteps echoing out in the silence, and then they mumbled, “This doesn’t bode well.”

It didn’t, but she had to continue on.

“Someone took your cat, correct?”

Her eyes widened at that and her hands clutched tighter at the folds of her cloak, drawing it further around her like a safety blanket. She tried stuttering, “H-How did you--?”

“You asked how my magic worked.” It wasn’t a question. “I can create wards that react to the person’s innermost desires. If they wish for ill will to whatever I’m trying to protect, the ward stays. But if they don’t have any bad desires, the ward allows them to pass. And if they pass, I’m able to get a glimpse into what they want.” The witch’s head cocked and their gaze lit on her. “For you, I can tell that someone took your cat and is holding it hostage to try and get you to come here. I’d be careful if I were you, miss. They probably lured you out for the bounty on your head.”

That was exactly what she’d figured, but to hear it said so casually…

“I will,” she breathed.

She didn’t have to worry for long. A door loomed up out of the darkness, signaling that the time for conversation had come to an end. The witch hurried forward and rapped a couple of times on the door. The sound echoed hollowly around them. They didn’t have to wait, an eye hole opened at the top and a set of stern eyes fell first to the witch and then to her.
“We have another visitor,” the witch huffed, raising a brow as something vaguely sassy entered their expression.

“Alright, alright.” The gruff figure also huffed, before pulling the door open.

She couldn’t help but but wince at the horrible squeak of the door’s hinges. The other witch shot her what seemed to be a pitying expression before raising a hand in farewell. Despite that the witch had made doubly sure that she was safe, the bouncer continued to watch her warily as she hurried in. Once inside, the swell of the tavern’s noise hit all at once. There were multiple kinds of people in the tavern that night: big buff men that looked like they could crush a melon with one hand, small figures that tried to avoid notice, loners that watched the room with harsh eyes, there was even the unassuming types that just looked like they were there to have fun.

She wondered how she was ever going to find the person she was there to meet, but she didn’t have to wait long. A person raised their hand and even over the noise and bustle of the crowd, she knew that they were gesturing to her.

Pressing her lips together, she stomped towards them. Though she had to avoid and dance around many drunken patrons, she continued forward with single minded determination. And this close to the figure, she could see that it was a woman. She was perfectly at home in such a place as this. Even with the full force of her heated gaze on her, the woman just smirked and rested one elbow on the table, taking long swigs of her drink every few seconds.

Then, she was at the booth and was scowling down at the woman. “Where is he?” She struggled to put into words all the venom she’d felt from being forced out of her house on a little quest to get her cat back.

The woman raised a brow, resting her chin on one hand. Her gaze fell languidly over her form and the smile that twitched at her lips suggested that she liked what she saw. Normally, Lunelle might have been a tiny bit flustered to get the attention of a woman that, admittedly, wasn’t at all bad looking. But her mind was consumed by the fact that this woman had snuck onto her place of residence and taken her best friend!

“Shouldn’t we get introductions out of the way first?” Her voice was silky smooth, holding the kind of confidence that was well aware she would get exactly what she wanted in the end. But when Lunelle continued to stare at her unblinkingly, she sighed and pouted. “No fun at all~” But this time, she reached to her side and held up a bag.

She didn’t even hesitate to snatch the bag from the woman and set it on the table, reaching inside to find that her cat was definitely there and not hurt. In fact, if anything, her cat was more annoyed than anything else. The corners of her lips twitched as the cat looked around bitterly, his tail flashing around wildly. Then she remembered their onlooker.

Staring down her nose at the other, she hated to see the triumphant smile playing on her lips. She pushed down the flash of annoyance that threatened to rise and instead, turned away. “I don’t care what you want, I’m leaving.” She’d more than entertained this catnapper and regardless of what she wanted, she wasn’t about to entertain her even further.

But she’d scarcely gotten five steps before the woman said, “Are you sure that’s wise, with the bounty on your head?”

She froze in place. Her arms tightened around her cat and she only loosened her grip when her cat began squirming. Taking in a deep, calming breath, she half turned to level an unimpressed stare on the woman. “You’re a bounty hunter, aren’t you? How much even is the bounty on my head?”

The bounty hunter’s gaze positively glittered as she pointed out what she was, as if genuinely excited that she’d guessed at the woman’s occupation so easily. Then she placed her hands on the table, her glass laying forgotten, and slid out from the seat. The bounty hunter sashayed towards her, easily maneuvering around the various patrons. When she was near enough, the bounty hunter took her chin from between index and thumb, raising it to more easily meet her gaze. “Wouldn’t you love to know?” The whisper sent a breath of hot air fluttering across her skin, raising goosebumps in its wake.

And she refused to show fear. Baring her teeth, she scowled. “Why else would I ask?” She wanted to know, even if it was better to live in ignorance.

The other woman’s eyes go half-lidded and she breathes, “It’s hard to give you an exact estimate, but as of yesterday, it was raised by a million. And people have said that it’s just going to continue to rise.” Her face must have betrayed her shock, because the bounty hunter smiled wickedly. “People don’t like it, you know. The thought that one little witch can see everyone’s innermost secrets and bring them out into the open. Kingdoms have fallen because their schemes have seen the light, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

It takes a considerable amount of willpower on her side to jerk back. She feels shaky with both the knowledge and the close proximity. Struggling for the slightest foothold, she spouts the first thing that comes to mind. “They have a seer on their side! That’s practically the same thing!”

The woman didn’t make a move to grab her again. She just shrugged and said, “True, true.” There was the sort of look on her face that suggested she was dealing with a particularly petulant child, and it aggravated the hell out of her. “Perhaps, then, it’s not that you’re too powerful. It’s more so that they don’t like the thought of someone so powerful not being on their side.”

She had nothing left to say to that. Turning her back on the bounty hunter, she makes a move to leave, “This is ridiculous. If you thought I was going to come with you willingly, then you’re sorely mistaken.”

Once again, the bounty hunter’s words stop her from leaving, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I tried to be nice, but if you leave this place when I tried to make it easy on the both of us -- then you’ll be free game to everyone.”

Lunelle goes still. She’s silent for so long that, at first, it doesn’t seem as if she’s going to speak. Then she tilts her head, gazing sidelong at the bounty hunter. “With that sort of bounty on my head, I won’t be safe anywhere.” Yes, even here in such a middle ground place, if word got out of what kind of witch she was, there would be a brawl on their hands. Pressing her lips together,she turns away.

But the bounty hunter swiftly grabs her arm, lowering her lips to whisper in her ear.

….

It’s only after she’s far from The Claw and well on her way home that her brain fully processes what that woman had said.

“Lowen. Remember that name, my dearest Lunelle. Because the next we meet, I’ll be the one to catch you. So make this an entertaining game, won’t you?”

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Chapter 4 - In The Belly of the Beast (TW: more discrimination, And blood)

​

Lunelle paced the length of her living room, deep in thought. It was still dark, and without the light from a lamp, all the darker. She’d come back safe, no one had been following her. Least of all that bounty hunter.

Lowen. The name meant nothing to her. She didn’t recognize it at all and had no idea why the bounty hunter would give a name. It would have been far better for her to keep her name secret and catch her off guard when she least expected it. But thinking back to the way she had acted for that whole confrontation, Lunelle was certain that she didn’t care to take any of this seriously.

She was using this as a game. That much was clear, and had even given her a head start.

All of this just begged the question -- What could she do now?!

If she stayed here, then Lowen would waste no time moving in on her. It might have been a game to her, but she sincerely doubted that Lowen would continue to act as such if she made no move to protect herself. She was probably expecting her to flee and, as loathe as she was to admit it, she needed Lowen to think that she would play this game.

The choice was clear. She needed to run away, but to where? As nerve wracking as living so close to the capital city was, it had been her home for all of her life. She didn’t care to make friends. She was polite to any witches and humans that crossed her path, but either one would inevitably invite trouble. That was the decision she’d made once upon a time, when she’d been given another chance at living.

Tugging her glasses off her nose, she fidgeted with the legs. She was bad with breaking everything her hands came into contact with, and had broken a pair of glasses once. That had taken a fair bit to replace. But stopping herself from fidgeting with them took more self-control than she was capable of possessing. Everything was a blur of shapes that didn’t quite make sense, and in that moment, it was somewhat reassuring.

Search for the light, and you can never be wrong!

Her mind went quiet as those words formed. A memory, not quite there, teased at the tip of her tongue. The witch that had said those words… Wasn’t it possible that she’d been from that clan? A clan so rumored to be a safe haven for witches that they were elevated to high standards? That clan… She remembered someone telling her that they called themselves Witch Light.

“I wonder if…” Chewing the thought over, she made to slip the glasses back onto her nose and then hurried to tug her notebook out of her bag. She didn’t remember every single thing that she learned, so she wrote it down. It was very possible that someone had told her the location of that clan and she’d written it down, then forgotten. After all, she never thought that she would someday be considering looking for this mythical clan of witches.

As she paged through the notebook by the light of her lamp, her eyes scanned the pages.

There was the blacksmith accidentally messing up someone’s order by hammering out a blade too hard, so he said that the weird ‘lump’ was a special feature. The florist was going on a date after their shop closed for the night so they took flowers out of their own money. A random passerby had confessed to cheating on their significant other. Another one had confessed to stealing from someone else. A witch had confessed…

She blinked, her fingers stilling on the page.

---

“I met a witch today. An arrogant one at that ヽ(ー_ー )ノHe was boasting about how he’d found the Witch Light. Honestly, he’s going to get found by guards if he keeps screeching like that… When I asked about the clan and where they might be, he strangely went quiet.

Ha! Finally he went quiet! But just when I was starting to wonder if he’d answer at all, he gave me a… Riddle?

Seek for them by the light of the moon,
In a place of haunts and danger,
If you can resist the temptation of a standard wisp,
Then continue on, brave soul!
For Haven is safe at hand,
Only a witch will see the truth beneath.
​

… Yeah, I don’t understand what it means either. Ah well, it sounds pretty. I’ve always liked poetry, though I doubt I’m ever actually going to need to seek the clan out. After that witch gave me the riddle, he just up and vanished into smoke. I wonder what kind of witch he is that would include that little bit of magic ʕಠᴥಠʔ Anyway, that’s all I have to report for now! ....φ(︶▽︶)φ....”

---

Slowly, her fingers traced delicately over the words of the riddle. Even now, those words meant nothing to her. She couldn’t imagine what place the clan would be, based on this alone. But it was all she had to go by and she had to leave soon. She would just have to hope that she stumbled onto it, by some miracle.

Suddenly, her cat began hissing and glaring at the door. His tail was thrashing wildly.

“H-Hey, what’s wrong?!” Her heart jumped straight into her throat and she hugged her notebook to her chest. Seconds later, she heard it: the tell-tale clang of armor.

“By order of the crown, you are under arrest!” The voice boomed out into the night, cutting through the stillness with the force of a clean blade. “We have you surrounded, witch!”

She recognized that voice, loud as it was. The commander from earlier! Ducking low, she snuck to the window and peeked out. The darkness kept her perfectly shielded from sight of the commander and guards outside. Styx stood perfectly parallel to her door, and multiple guards were fanned out. And when she’d crept to one of the back windows, she could see that they had surrounded the house.

Her cat was still hissing, and she yearned to shush him. But her throat was tight, cutting off any words that might have escaped. She’d spent too much time figuring out what to do, and now the capital’s royal guard had made a move on her!

“If you don’t come out, we’re coming in!”

She had to think, fast! Those guards were wearing thick, heavy armor. Anything she could do wouldn’t be enough to injure or even push one aside. Not to mention, their line was far too close, she wouldn’t even be able to wriggle through them.

Her hands were clammy.

Was she… Going to be caught already? Before she’d even started her journey? If they took her to the dungeons, the chance that she would escape would be far lower. At that point, she would only have to wait for death. And the more she thought about what to do, the more impatient they would grow. Her mind was racing, desperately searching for an answer.

“Fine. We gave you a choice, but if you want to make this hard--”

The answer came to her like a burst of lightning from the blue.

“Wait!” She scrambled to the door, desperate to make her voice known. The sounds of armor clanking stopped, and silence descended. Tugging up her skirt to check on the dagger that rested on her lower leg, she placed one palm on the door. Licking her suddenly dry lips, she threw her voice out, “How about negotiations? I can give you something that I’m willing to bet you want, and in return, you let me go!”

“Oh please, witchling,” Styx drawled. “There’s nothing that you could give me that I’d want more than your death. Guards--”

“You’re wrong!” She yelped. Her body was trembling by this point. If she was even a second too slow, they would bust down her door and take her. “I can give you the location of The Claw!”

“Wha-- You’re lying.” Styx was taken off guard by that, thankfully. That was all she needed. Time. She had to buy time! “It’s true, we’ve been searching for that place for ages. We hear many of its denizens are witches, but that’s exactly why I can’t believe that you would give it up just for your life.”

Well, unfortunately, she was a coward.

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong,” she took in a deep breath to calm her heart’s rapid pulse. “So long as you make a promise, here and now, that you’ll let me go.”

She peered out of the window, to see Styx standing there in deep thought. The furrow between her eyes deepened as she frowned. It was a lucrative deal, regardless of the person giving it. What was one witch to a secret hiding place where they gathered?

One guard turned to her, “Commander, I don’t think this is a--”

She immediately snarled, “Quiet! I’ll decide what is or is not a good idea!” Her hand was still on her polearm as she cast the house a once over. “Fine, witch. So long as you show us where the underground tavern is, we’ll let you go.”

She paused for a long moment, eyes half lidded. The energy that exuded from all around the woman showed that she wasn’t lying, but even so, she was wary. After all, she could have a sudden change of heart and capture her. And even so, she wasn’t exactly telling the full truth here. She might have been giving them the location, but that didn’t mean she would tell them how to get in.

Sparing one glance to her cat, she reached to pat its fur down. “Be a good boy until I get back, okay?”

All he did was hiss and bat her hand out of annoyance. She huffed a small laugh and then grabbed her bag, making sure the notebook was thrust deep within.

She wasn’t a fool. They didn’t really intend on letting her go, but that didn’t matter. So long as she could get away with a head start, she intended to take full advantage of it. Her hands pulled at the ties binding her cloak together, ensuring that they were tightly bound together. And as she rested one hand on the door, she cast one more look around the house.

This had been her safe abode for the last few years, ever since she’d come back to life. Soon enough, she would be leaving this place behind and never looking back.

That was a sobering thought and it sank her heart with the force of it. She let out a breath and pulled the door open.

….

Shadows were peeking out of the windows at random intervals as they marched into town. She glanced around her to note the guards shadowing her. Two to either side, two behind her, and a whole other set of guards behind them. There were no guards in front of her, just the commander.

Must be real confident to think me incapable of escaping her. She wasn’t sure if this strange formation was worrying or comforting to her. If the commander was as competent as the rumors said, then she’d killed multiple kinds of witches with her polearm alone. The only reason she hadn’t gone ahead with killing her was probably because she wasn’t a threat.

At least, not a threat to her physical health.

On the way to the secret entrance, she looked multiple times for a way out, but there was none to be had. This strange formation ensured that she would be caught before she’d even taken three steps.

She was forced to bide her time and wait.

It wasn’t long before they arrived at the secret entrance and Styx turned to her, narrowing dark brown eyes. “How do we get in?”

Swallowing thickly, she prayed that she understood that witch’s power. Raising a finger, she pointed at the wall. “You have to swing a weapon at it with all your might, and then the wall will disappear.”

Styx stared at her for a moment, so long that she was starting to wonder if the commander had seen through her ruse. Then, she nodded at a couple of guards and they took turns swinging their weapons at it with all their might. The horrific screeching as their blades met the wall made most people in attendance flinch, but the wall stayed there. Unmoving.

She made to leave while they were distracted, but the commander’s eyes snapped to her. Fury in her eyes, she reached out and snatched a fistful of her shirt, dragging her close. “What’s the meaning of this?!”

… She didn’t have a choice. If she wanted a chance to leave, then she had to improvise and hope that everything worked out!

With the commander glaring daggers into her face, she didn’t notice what was coming until it was too late. Lunelle yanked her skirt up and snatched the dagger from its sheath, slashing the broad woman across the face, all in one rush. The commander roared and reeled back, clutching at her face. Blood coalesced from between her fingers, falling and painting the pavement where they fell red.

But she didn’t bother to stay and find out what happened next. She was already running, panting for breath as she slipped into an alleyway. Even from that distance, she could hear the commander’s vivid, sharp bark:

“Get her! I don’t care if you bring me her head, she’ll be dealt with one way or the other!”

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Chapter 5 - Cut Throat (TW: Violence and Discrimination)

​

They were nothing if not efficient. Within an hour, the city’s guards had blocked off many of her escape routes - including the main gate. It was beginning to look bleak, no matter where she ran they always seemed to be one step ahead of her. She was beginning to wonder if she had no choice but to give in…

When a voice surprised her.

She was racing down the dimly lit road, a couple of guards chasing her when someone called out to her. “Over here!”

Within the shadows of the alleyway, she couldn’t see much about them, only that their face was shielded by their hood. Their voice, however, was distinctly masculine. She hesitated, weighing the options but with the shouts and heavy clank of armor behind her she quickly realized that she had no choice. Hurrying in after them, she pressed herself sharply against the wall.

The stranger pulled their hood even tighter over their face, and watched as the guards clanked into view. They were absolutely still, as the guards looked around, utterly bewildered.

She covered her mouth, struggling to keep in her panting breaths. It occurred to her that the stranger’s cloak blended in with its surroundings well. Almost too well.

The guards should have seen them easily. One guard’s gaze easily passed over the stranger’s form, yet didn’t shoot back.

There was no sign of surprise or alarm.

“Didn’t you see her come this way?!”

“Wh-- Yes! We both saw her! Don’t you dare pin this on me!”

“Fine, fine… Maybe she ran further on. We can’t let Styx know that we let her get away!”

It was only after they began stomping down the road, that she realized she was holding her breath. Huffing harshly, she stepped away from the stranger and frowned at them. Still aware that a guard could be lurking around she kept her vice low, “Who are you? And why did you help me?”

As the figure tilted their head, the hood shifted and she could just barely make out vivid brown eyes and a devil-may-care-but-I-don’t grin. “This isn’t the place we should be talking, Lunelle. Those guards could still be lurking around, after all~” Turning away, the figure strode further down the alleyway, waving a hand dismissively. “I know a safe place to hang out for a bit.”

A frown pulled at her lips. The fact that they knew her name only worsened the worry but what choice did she have? It was either follow this stranger to who knows where, or continue running. She wasn’t sure that she could remain free for much longer without help…

She hurried after the receding figure, checking to make sure that her dagger was still safely in its sheath.

…

The masculine figure turned out to be pretty competent on their own, she was just finding out. Besides being able to hide in plain sight, they could also easily incapacitate guards with just the flick of a knife. And the gracefulness to their moves led her to wonder if…

“It’s almost like you’re an assassin,” she commented as she watched him wipe his dagger off on a dirty rag. Blood billowed from a deep wound on the guard’s neck.

The comment made the stranger turn, regarding her with an unreadable expression. Then a sly smile slid across their lips. “I lived in the slums, you’ve got to do whatever it takes to survive.”

Her lips pursed. They didn’t exactly confirm or deny, but that was answer enough. The stranger headed past her, whistling an all too nonchalant tune for what they had just done. She cast the guard’s bloodied body another once over and checked on her dagger sitting snug in its sheath. Her strange companion wasn’t someone to be trifled with and she wasn’t quite sure if she was relieved to have them on her side or not.

To have him as an enemy would be dreadful indeed.

He didn’t bother to fill her in on where they were going and the sun was beginning to rise, casting low light over their world. The silence continued on unabated, other than for the rustling of their clothes and the dull noise of a blade being drawn. He didn’t seem to care that she wasn’t involving himself, nor did he shoot her any bitter looks. It occurred to her after a bit, that he hardly showed anything other than good natured humor, and she couldn’t detect any fear that they would be captured.

“There.”

Shaken out of her reverie by the sudden whisper close to her ear, she frowned at him. He was standing a tad bit too close to her, pointing at something in the distance. Allowing herself to follow the direction of his finger, she grew tense.

Four guards stood close to each other in front of a store house. The waves crashed against the sides of the ships tethered in the port. The citizens had already evacuated, likely in preparation for the guards to take on the ‘big, bad witch’. But her stranger wasn’t pointing at the guards, he was pointing at the store house. She shot him a bewildered glance.

“There’s a secret passageway in the store room, it was made there in order for smugglers to pass as they pleased.” Once again, the beginnings of mischief pulled at his lips. “I saw that you have a weapon of your own. Think you can take them on?”

The absurdity of his idea made her huff, “It’s only for self-defense. I’ve never even had proper lessons to wield it.” In fact she’s only ever had to wield it once, to hurt the commander. The memory shot through her head, quick as a lightning bolt. The sight of blood dripping through that stern woman’s fingers… It was one thing to be a witch fighting to survive, but she doubted many witches had managed to inflict a blow on her before. Would Styx come after her herself?

“Neither have I~!” The man curled his arms behind his head and winked, all self-assurance as he walked out into the open. She was about to argue, ask him what the hell he was doing, when he made a gesture at his head -- using two fingers to make a flipping motion.

It took her a moment to understand but once she did, she kept her head down and tugged the hood tighter over her bright red hair. It was a good thing her hair was done up in a braid. She slipped her sleeves down over her hands and brought the edges of her cloak together, not wanting to give even one hint as to her true identity. As nervous as she was to leave it in the hands of one like him, it seemed she had to.

The guards wasted no time getting into position. “Halt! You can go no further. The docks have been evacuated. Turn around at once.”

The stranger had the decency of looking sheepish, fidgeting like he was genuinely nervous to be here. “I’m sorry but no can do, gentlemen! You see, I’m supposed to be checking on something in the storage for my company.” As he spoke, he edged himself ever so slowly past the guards. And she followed behind him at a snail’s pace.

The feeling of the guards so close by, and the sense of her magic threatening to rise and tangle around them in a sticky web made her nauseous with fear. How long until her magic decided to act against her wishes? How long before they were forced to give up their charade?

She felt a shift behind her and then a hand on her shoulder, chilling her to the bone. “Hey --”

“How unfortunate,” her stranger sighed. She peeked out from beneath her hood at him, and watched him address the guards. “I thought we were going to get through unscathed. Unfortunately, I’ve never quite been that lucky.” Despite the humor in his voice, there was something lacing the undercurrent with venom. A strange fire lit his eyes, turning them stormy as he dropped into a readied stance.

The hand on her shoulder tightened and she went to jump forward, but the guard pulled her right back and before she knew it there was a blade at her throat. She went completely still, the sting of the sword digging into her throat keeping her from wanting to struggle. The hood was wrenched from her head and she knew that the guards had recognized her right away.

“It’s the witch!” The yell stung her ear. The guard turned his face away to yell at another, “You! Go get the commander! She’ll want to hear of this!”

Her breathing quickened. It seemed like once again, her journey was about to end before it’d even started. Her heart beat as fast as a hummingbird’s wings in her chest and the shock of adrenaline turned her hands clammy and prickly. She doubted she could even reach her dagger without any of the guards noticing, much less the one that currently held her captive.

But just what else was she to do? This guy -- this assassin, had pretty much handed the guards their identities on a silver platter.

Before the guard could so much as do anything, the stranger strode forward, causing the guards to tense. “Now, now. There will be none of that~ You see, I need this witch to help me with a little something.” He’d yet to pull his daggers. The man stared down his nose at them and the corners of his lips twitched. “Does the name Mauve ring a bell to any of you?”

“M-Mauve the assassin?!” The guard holding her seemed to know exactly who he was talking about.

And she did as well. Mauve was an assassin that everyone knew little about, but rumors certainly abounded at who they were. No one knew of their age, their gender, their past… Hidden in both appearance and personality, no one had ever seen them coming until it was too late. The only thing that had been left at the destination of each kill was a card that said, “Mauve knows of what you did, consider this your punishment.”

Definitely a chilling thing to acquire, even if you weren’t on the receiving end of it.

Now, she considered the stranger with new eyes. Could he really be that assassin that everyone talked only of in whispers, ‘lest they be visited by him in the thick of night?

“Ha! I don’t buy it.” One of the guards spit at the ground ahead of them, hefting his sword at the ready. “You’re a filthy liar!” Without so much as listening to the leader, he darted towards the so-called Mauve. His sword was lifted high to cleave the man in two.

She watched the guard get closer and closer, her mouth opening to warn Mauve, but something happened… She must have blinked at some point, because at one point the guard was bringing his sword down and all of a sudden the guard was on the ground, cradling a gushing wound on his throat. Mauve wiped his bloodied dagger on the guard’s armor as best he could and raised his head, smirking at them.

Then he took a step.

The blade dug into her neck as the guard jerked her head to the side. She didn’t dare to even breathe. Though Mauve stopped, he didn’t seem concerned in the least.

The guard holding her still glanced at one of his buddies and barked, “I said go get the commander!”

“But boss! You saw what he did--”

“Because he was a fuckin’ idiot and didn’t stay put!” The guard’s voice turned more stern. “Now, that is an order!”

The stomping of hurried feet signaled to her that he had already gone off, she didn’t dare risk turning her head to check. Mauve’s eyes trailed after the fleeing guard. With two others left, they should have an easier time getting away. Assuming that Mauve could get anywhere close to her…

Who was she kidding? Why was she waiting for him to save her?!

She looked around rapidly, wondering if there was something that she could do. Maybe if she was extra careful, she could lift her leg and grab her dagger? But without knowing where the other guard was in relation to her, it was risky to even try that. Maybe if she screamed as loud as possible, the guard holding her captive would let go in surprise? But she also ran the risk of him accidentally slicing the sword across her neck.

“Wh-Why?”

“Hm?” The blade lifted slightly off her neck, just enough so that she was allowed to look into the guard’s face. “And what’ve you got cooking up, hm?”

She didn’t know. That had just left her mouth scarcely before she could think better of it, and now she had to scrabble for something more to say. Maybe if she kept them distracted for long enough, Mauve would be able to get her out of that situation!

Her hands clenched into fists, nails biting into her palms. The pain kept her grounded. Her voice trembled only a little bit as she spoke, “Why… Do you all want to kill us so much?!” Even with all of her efforts to keep herself still and steady, her magic unwound like a spool of thread regardless. It curled around the guards, yanking taught, drenching them in its power.

It was all in the effort of taking their attention off of Mauve, but she knew she wasn’t ready to hear the answer.

“Are you serious?!” She heard him laugh, a broken and bitter sound. “Because all they do is take. They’ve done nothing but spread their malice everywhere they go, families have broken because of them. People have died because of them! They’re monsters. Demons. And they deserve everything they get.”

“Exactly! Their existence is unnatural. A sin. A plague that the gods deem to punish us with! We’re just dealing with the infestation.”

Her magic dispersed all at once and her hands fell to her sides. She stared blankly at the ground as a swirl of emotions gathered in her mind. The dark blue of sorrow, the gathering red of rage, the blood red color of resentment… She hated this world. A world that would love nothing more than to kill her for something that she couldn’t help. She didn’t have the power to destroy this world like a god might, but if she did, then would have loved nothing more than to set it all ablaze.

When she didn’t answer, the leader grabbed a fistful of her braid and yanked her head back. She didn’t have the time to smother her yelp. She struggled to not let the pain show on her face. Her hands itched to reach back for his hand to slap it away. Prickles of pain dug into her scalp. She tasted blood and she realized that she’d bit down on her tongue to keep from being too loud.

The brute’s face came close and his horrid breath washed over her face. “So now you see why we absolutely cannot allow you to live?”

Her glasses went foggy and she was suddenly thankful to not have the opportunity to be forced to stare into such a harsh, murderous face.

Thankfully there was one person they’d both conveniently forgotten, and she sensed him behind them now. A dagger pressed into the soft flesh of the guard’s throat. His voice was a soft growl, “I despise insignificant insects like yourself.” And with a swish of his dagger, the guard was choking on his own blood.

She was yanked away from him and when she turned around she saw that the other guard was already convulsing on the ground. It wouldn’t be long before the other guards arrived. She could already hear the sounds of approaching armor.

“You really don’t wanna be looking,” with an uneasy chuckle, he hurried her along.

She stared for another moment longer, committing it to memory. Then turning back to follow Mauve, she shook her head. “It’s okay,” her voice hardened. “They deserved it.”

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Chapter 6 - Goodbye

​

“Where will this take us?” Putting a hand to the wall, she immediately jerked it back in surprise. A closer look at the wall revealed dark mold growing there. Shivering, she drew her cloak tighter around her. After escaping into the storehouse, so called Mauve had led her to a secret hatch that led down a ladder. It seemed he’d been right about there being a secret passageway that smugglers liked to use.

“Juuuust outside the city~” The assassin continued nonchalantly along, arms crossed behind his head. He didn’t seem to be too bothered by the fact that he’d killed a majority of their pursuers. In fact, if anything, he seemed to revel in the fact.

As she watched his back, her brows furrowed. She couldn’t help but think of what he’d said before: “You see, I need this witch to help me with a little something.” He probably hadn’t saved her out of the goodness of his heart. He needed her for something. Who knows what an assassin would need her for. All she knew, it could only be bad.

It was itching at her, the need to figure it out. Already, she could feel her magic reaching out, teasing along the other’s body. It threatened to tear the truth right out into the open. Spinning around him, tighter and tighter… And she didn’t try to stop it.

Suddenly, Mauve glanced back at her and smiled crookedly. “Now, now~ None of that~ We’re in a rush, so I’ll tell you what I want from you after we leave the city behind.”

She frowned. There was another thing that itched at her. One that she was certain he could easily answer. “When we first met, you called me by name before I’d even told you it. I didn’t bother to ask then, since we were sneaking around at the time. But surely you can answer now.”

The man seemed to consider it, perhaps wondering if he should tell the truth. Though if he truly knew her by name, then he must have known that he wouldn’t be able to lie to her. Letting out a deeply put upon sigh, Mauve gestured vaguely. “I’ve been watching you for a bit. I figured that if you were truly the witch I sought, then I’d need more than a simple hunch.”

His answer, though likely unintentional, made her falter. If he was telling the truth and she felt that he was then he’d likely been stalking her for some time. And she had no idea! What could he possibly want her for that would require all that?! The answer he gave did not reassure her of anything at all, if anything, it just brought up more questions.

She longed to pry the answer out of him, but knew it was best to wait until they were safely away from the city.

Their footsteps thudded hollowly against the tiled floors. The air was musty with the scent of disuse and old paper. Some ways back, Mauve had picked up an old lamp and lit it, so they weren’t stumbling around in the darkness. She followed its gentle light with weary eyes. She had moved around far more than she was accustomed to, and her legs ached.

But she couldn’t stop, not until they were safe. And not until she’d made sure her beloved cat was safe.

She sighed and removed her glasses and dug the pads of her fingers into her eyes, as if that would suddenly make her not tired. “Another thing, I have a cottage outside of the city and I left my things there. Including my cat.”

The man didn’t even hesitate. Just gestured a hand as if waving it away, “Of course! We’ll be going there! I can’t very well let you live out in the wild with the clothes on your back~”

“Good.”

And that was all there seemed to be to it. Despite how the route seemed to be perfectly cleared out, she’d find the occasional lizard scurrying away. Her ears were pricked for the slightest hint that they were being followed, but either they were far enough away or their pursuers were at a loss.

Despite the fact that she was having trouble keeping up with him, Mauve didn’t even seem to be breaking a sweat. She followed behind him at a stumbling pace, her calves burning, when he glanced back at her and seemed to notice right away that something was wrong.

He came to an abrupt stop, a smile spreading across his face. “Why don’t we rest, for now?”

Those words took her somewhat off guard, even as she stumbled to a stop. “Ar - Are you sure? Shouldn’t we be hurrying away from here?”

“We’ve been making good time.” Taking a strand of his hair between his fingers, he squinted into the distance. “When we ultimately leave this passage, we won’t have the luxury to rest for a while so it’d be best for you to rest now while we’re not being pursued. Besides, while I can definitely handle the exercise, it’s clear that you can’t.”

Her lips pursed. She definitely wanted to argue the point but she couldn’t deny that he had sound logic. She took a seat, smoothing her skirt out underneath her. Mauve sat across from her, drawing his knee to his chest. The silence that followed was somewhat awkward. They both seemed to have their own things on their minds. The awkward silence was only punctuated by the sounds of their shifting, and Mauve fidgeting with his lantern.

Finally, she realized she had something to ask. “Mauve--”

She didn’t make it much further than that. Their head shot up and he leveled a glare on her. It was the kind of cold look that froze her blood. And then, the look abruptly cleared. He blinked and pinched the bridge of his nose, only to mutter, “Right… You didn’t know.” He sighed, “Don’t call me by that name.”

She was still reeling from the abrupt change in personality. “Wh-Why? Isn’t that your name?”

He was already shaking his head before she’d finished. Those lips, normally so cocky, set into a grim line. “Truthfully? It’s my father’s name. He’s the Mauve that everyone’s so weary about. It just became a habit to use his name to my advantage.”

Though she nodded, she found herself reeling for an entirely different reason. It wasn’t just her that had come to believe his role. Those guards back there had as well. He’d stepped into a role and pulled it off without any of them being none the wiser. They probably weren’t the first set of people he’d done that with.

But that begged the question…

“Alright, then what do I call you?” As she leveled an unimpressed stare on him, her heart quickened. Already, she could scarcely understand the situation she’d found herself in. What did you do when it seemed like an assassin was your only ally?

The assassin in question sat back and crossed his arms, seeming to ponder the question. She couldn’t tell if he was considering giving her his actual name, or giving her another fake name. His face was impassive as he thought it over. Finally, after a fair bit of thought, the assassin snapped his fingers and his face brightened. “If you must have a name, then call me Nord.”

She considered it, chewing the name over silently. Then she sighed, “Still not your real name though, huh?”

“Nope!” With a loud pop, he turned on his heels and continued down the well trodden path.

After staring at his back for a bit, she followed. She was well aware that it shouldn’t matter if he gave her his real name or not, but if anything, she was even more curious. Either way, they didn’t speak to each other after that. And after some time, he stopped her with a hand raised.

“Do you feel that?”

It took her a moment to feel anything. A cool brush of air gathered and played with her clothes and hair. Excitement was fast behind the nervousness and she squinted into the darkness. The light of her companion’s lamp dimly illuminated the hatch in the ceiling above. She made a move to rush towards it when Nord laif a palm on her arm, drilling her hurried retreat.

“We don’t know if there’s anyone lurking in wait for us out there,” his voice lowered to a harsh whisper. “Let me check things out first.”

Frustration welled up thick and heavy and she yanked her arm free from his grip. Still, she couldn’t deny that he had a point. It wouldn’t do to leave the passageway and wander right into an ambush. And so, she stood by as he crept forward. He was every bit the assassin then: Slow and languid, balancing on the halls of his feet, killer intent oozing from every pore. He completely expected for there to be a fight and even though she couldn’t see his face, she could feel the glee emanating from him.

And then he hopped up soundlessly on the rungs, climbing the ladder until he could heave against the covering and peek outside. Lunelle fidgeted as he constantly searched for some hidden danger, but evidently, there wasn’t one because a whisper floated back to her, “All clear.”

She hadn’t even realized that she was tense until she let out a slow, agonizing breath, her lungs burning for need of fresh air.

As Nord climbed out, she hurriedly came over to climb up. But her gaze brushed over something in the darkness and she tensed. Bending to grip the lamp that Nord had set aside for her, she raised it to see into the inky blackness. But there was nothing. She squinted and was about to step off and go see what had caught her attention when her companion had grown impatient.

“Hey!” She jolted. “I know you don’t actually want to give yourself up, do ya?”

She huffed, “Not on your life!” Turning back to the ladder, she couldn’t resist glancing back over her shoulder. But there was still nothing. She huffed at her own paranoia and continued to climb.

At the top, Nord waited. He was still warily scanning their surroundings but when she came close he helped her out. The two rested for barely a moment before they silently pushed to their feet and continued on. They hadn’t spoken about their next move but that was already easy enough. Next, they were to seek out her cabin and hope that no one lay in wait.

Branches cracked underfoot as the two made their way and it didn’t take long for her to recognize their surroundings. Brushing aside the next set of undergrowth she noticed the small house ahead of them. This time, she didn’t need Nord to tell her to wait. She studied the area ahead of them, straining her senses for the slightest thing out of place.

“Seems safe,” those words weren’t fully convincing, but she felt the same way. It was impossible to tell, at the end of the day, if someone wasn’t about to launch their self out of the woods and hold them at knife point. Still, she followed his lead.

The environment was eerily silent as they crept towards the building, as if the very air itself was holding its breath. She looked around the area, searching, but not finding what she was looking for she made her way to the front door. The front door swung open easily enough and there, sitting in the middle of the floor, was a cat. All of the air whooshed from her at the sight.

Bending down, she cradled the cat in her arms, ignoring how it wriggled for a moment. She was worried that she’d never see him again, let her have this.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t allowed to have that much time to revel in this meeting when Nord suddenly said, “You can have your reunion later. For now, you need to get your stuff together.” When she peered into his face, she could see that he was anxious to get on the road, shifting from foot to foot.

Nodding firmly, she pushed herself to her feet and hurried to grab a knapsack. Occasionally, she’d ask him for his opinion on what to bring. Sure, she had moved here some years ago, but she wasn’t exactly used to traveling. As she packed, her cat stared at them unblinkingly and she didn’t notice that Nord was doing the exact same thing to the cat.

Out of nowhere, he jerked a finger to the cat in question. “Can I call him Jojo?”

The question surprised her and her hands stilled. One brow raised and she couldn’t help but wonder if she had heard right. “Pardon?”

Nord didn’t move at all except for his lips. “Your cat. Jojo?”

For a long moment, she wondered just why that name of all names? In the end, she truly didn’t care enough to ask and only turned away, refocusing on the task of filing away some clothes. “Sure. Go nuts.” Honestly, he was the one that wanted to get a move on and then he suddenly decided to ask that? He had some odd priorities.

And yet, perhaps that was simply a way to take his mind off the obvious, as he was quickly growing impatient again; to the point that he decided to take the initiative in helping her get her belongings ready! All he could do was fetch things that she told him to nab. One thing that she would be regretful of leaving behind were her dear plants. There were so many, of course she wouldn’t be able to take everything with her.

However, the herbs would be invaluable to have as medicine, and she decided to take some along in small containers.

“So unfortunate,” she sighed as she considered the garden before her.

“Indeed,” the voice behind her made her jump slightly, the hint of his dangerous aura quickening her heart. “It’s a beautiful garden, you’ve clearly spent a lot of time here.” She looked back to see him examining the plants with an unreadable expression.

She sighed and nodded. “Yeah.

And that was it. As she stepped onto the path, with ‘Jojo’ in both arms, she glanced back at her cottage for the last time. This would likely be the last time she ever laid eyes upon her home. It wasn’t much, but she had to make do with what she had. All in all, it wasn’t the worst home she’d ever had, though she couldn’t remember her prior place of residence.

Taking a big breath of warm air she whispered, “Goodbye.”

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Chapter 7 - A Bargain (TW: Mentions of discrimination)


(??? POV)​

There was a legend among their people, about how they were made. It spoke of a group of humans that had the worst lot in life dying. And all they wanted was the chance to live again.

A God took notice of their plight and felt sympathy. Humans were endlessly cruel, he’d seen it time and again. Truth was, he despised humans. So why should he give them what they wanted? It was because, deep down inside, he couldn’t refuse a person in need. Instead of bringing them back as humans, however, he decided to compromise.

He gave them powers beyond their wildest dreams and made them the “Keepers” of the human experience. So while they looked human on the inside, they no longer were. Every single witch presided over a certain aspect of the mortal realm. There were witches that affected emotions like love, joy, anger, hatred; or even the absence of it, apathy. There were witches for things like memory, weather, protection, travel, literature.

They were more so akin to muses, with the way they influenced those around them.

At first, the common people were wary, but they didn’t seem too inclined in paying them any attention. Yet, as it so often did, there were those so scared of the change, they leapt on any chance they could. Sure, most witches just wanted to get by, but there were always those troublemakers. They had already grown tired of the looks people shot them whenever they practiced magic, and now, it was about time those disrespectful humans got what was coming to them!

Of course, this was just the spark to the fire and the humans suddenly felt justified with their hatred. With the years long resentment between the two groups, the God considered them and felt unbearable anguish for the witches as well as ever growing hatred for the humans that had treated them so horribly. Really, those humans genuinely thought that they were the heroes in this story?

The thoughts swimming through his head were wrong. A god like him shouldn’t be thinking about getting involved!

Just then, a human on the verge of death came before him. Even though their physical body was broken, their spirit shone brightly. This god was someone that had grown tired of the humans mistreating his creations, and he thought it was high time to teach them a lesson. Yet this human didn’t let him, they even struck a deal with him.

If they could find humans that treated witches normally with no trace of prejudice, then he would leave the humans alone. If they couldn’t, however, then he could do whatever he wished. It was a deal with extremely high stakes for the person, yet they were confident that they would win.

“I saw the way you perished, and yet you still insist upon this?”

“...” They had no answer for him, other than a self-satisfied nod.

And so it would be, until the day of reckoning… When they would once again come to the end of their life and be forced to justify the choices they had made.

…..

“15… 16… 17... “

Tiny tally marks were chiseled into the stones, proof of their long days there. The scraping of their sharp implement was the only thing to pierce the silence, along with the sounds of their muttering. Seventy-eight marks were written across the wall. Over and over and over again, they counted them up. It was their only entertainment most days.

Rags covered them from head to scratched up feet. The only thing that was the least dirty was the scarf that hid the lower half of their face. With skin the color of ripe acorns, and eyes the color of freshly mined gold, they would have made quite the sight in public. But here they were, trapped beneath the castle, whiling away their time in the dungeons.

Before long, the sounds of footsteps met their ears. Their head cocked, listening intently. The feet were heavy set with the clank of armor that made them positively menacing. Heart pounding in their chest, they crawled into one of the corners and hugged their knees. As the sounds grew closer and closer, they tried to make their self as small as possible. It was futile, they knew. If the guards wanted to, all they would have to do was drag them along.

They were certainly small enough that that was possible.

Two armored men and an armored lady stopped outside of their cell, the former of the two leered at them. The sight sent a cold shiver down their spine and they gripped their knees tighter. That was why the woman was there, they supposed. She looked capable enough to keep the two men in line. Bright red hair fell in wavy lengths around her face, framing an impressive jaw line. Intense, brown eyes seemed to pierce right through all that dared to meet her gaze.

Though what interested them the most was the vicious scar that swept, jagged across her face. It started on her right cheek and danced across her nose, ending under her left eye. The scar was still red and angry, assumedly from a harrowing close-call and it made her face seem infinitely less friendly than before.

She shot the two a disgusted look as she unclipped a set of keys from her waist. She slid the key into the lock and with an ear splitting screech of metal on metal, the key turned.

In anticipation of the horrific sound, they’d already had their ears covered. The three guards weren’t so lucky, but though they flinched somewhat, that was the extent of their revulsion.

The woman looked at them, “Come along, witch!”

For a moment, they wondered if they should pretend to not have heard. Maybe… Their mind began to rationalize. I could claim to be deaf? Or listless even? I could pretend to be a broken doll, and they’d have to throw me out. It wouldn’t work, of course. They could daydream up solutions all they liked, the truth was they were trapped. And these guards weren’t quite so stupid as to so easily fall for something like that.

They had an intense staredown with the woman for what could have been a few seconds or a couple of minutes, when finally, they cautiously pushed to their feet. They were unsteady on their feet, putting a hand to the hard cobblestones at their side to ensure that they wouldn’t take a tumble.

The stones were cold beneath their feet, but they’d long gotten used to it.

The guards were as patient as one could be as they waited for the witch to exit and leave with them. It was just three guards, but as they closed in around them, they had never felt more trapped. They fidgeted with their beloved scarf, pulling it more firmly over their lips. The witch was small beside the guards, they barely reached the woman’s chest. They tucked in on their self, knowing that if the guards wanted to they could pull their swords at a moment’s notice and all they’d have to say to their superior would be that they tried to escape. A dead witch was better than one not under their thumb, after all.

The whole way, they didn’t bother to speak. Instead, they studied the tiles beneath their feet. Even as their heart beat quickly, they couldn’t help but be sorry for the maids and butlers that would have to clean up after them. They probably had it hard enough with the constant cleaning, cooking, and general servitude.

The guards soon brought them to a door. They looked up at it. It seemed to tower over them like a menacing guard. There were symbols carved into its surface, that of dragons entwining around its edges, circling around the center as if they were chasing each other. Normally, they would have spent much of their time tracing the dragons’ lengthy bodies, but the clank of armor beside them reminded them that they didn’t have the freedom to.

The red headed woman opened the door and then promptly shoved them in. They stumbled forward, crossing the door’s threshold.

“There will be someone to see you both momentarily,” before the door could completely close, she had turned to the two other guards. “Stay here and make sure she doesn’t attempt to escape.”

Then the door was closed and they angrily jerked their scarf over their face. They, they corrected mentally. And then they remembered what the scarred lady had mentioned before. Both? Golden eyes glimmered dully as they fell upon the only other person within the room.

The person clearly wasn’t someone that fit in among denizens of the castle. Her body was lithe and fit, with the traces of muscle peeking out of her clothes. The woman towered over them, even slouched as she was. Her hair was a pale, dirty blonde and was tied up into a messy bun, strands of wispy hair slipping free to play with the meager breeze.

Her expression wasn’t exactly friendly, but it was even less so as she took notice of them. “Oh. You’re here.” She leaned into the wall behind her and sighed, rubbing the back of her neck with a trace of nervous energy.

“Um…”

Had they pissed her off somehow, already? They couldn’t remember ever meeting her before and as much as they racked their brain, there was just nothing familiar about her.

“I’m… Sorry?”

Their voice was soft, half-muffled by the scarf that covered the lower half of their face. Even so, the stranger must have heard because she gave a disgruntled, “It’s nothing you did.” Those words had scarcely gotten the room to settle in before she was pushing away from the wall, offering them a shark-toothed, “Name’s Lowen~ What’s your name little--” They abruptly paused, taking them in with a curious look. “Actually, what even is your gender? It’s hard to tell.”

Good.

They considered lying and calling their self a boy, but that also wouldn’t have made their self happy. “I… Don’t have a gender,” they decided to be truthful after all.

“Sooo….”

She was being super casual about the subject, and not in a mocking way. Maybe that was why they decided to indulge her. “Mx. Just say Mx.” As they spoke, they anxiously fiddled with a thread on their clothes. This was the most they’d ever deigned to say on such a personal subject. Usually, people ignored them whenever they mentioned it, and daring to correct these guards would have earned a dirty look or a slap.

Perhaps they were desperate for some sort of kindness, but Lowen’s casual respect went a fair way towards dispelling some of their caution.

The woman snapped her fingers, an easy-going grin on her lips. “That’s it!” With that little issue taken care of, the woman asked them properly, “What’s your name little mx~?”

… She really should have left out the ‘little’ part. Or phrased the question differently. They looked away, nervously considering the floor beneath their feet. Why was she here? Who were they waiting for? As much as they thought about it, no answer immediately came to them.
Their voice was still soft as they muttered, “Viv.”

Suddenly, Lowen snickered and before they could question her, the woman pointed out. “Your name’s small, like you.”

That did it. Their face darkened with the beginnings of a flush. “H-Hey--!” It was the feeling of someone lurking behind them that stopped them from continuing on. They shivered and took a few good steps away before turning around. They didn’t know when it had happened, but a man had gotten behind them easily. He was far taller than them, nearly towering over even the other woman.

Speaking of, even Lowen’s posture stiffened at the sight of this other person. Her arms crossed behind her back as she regarded this new variable. “So,” and yet, her voice was increasingly informal. “Finally gonna confess why you brought me back here, boss?”

Boss???

They looked at the man with new eyes, taking in the pronounced lines of his face and the frown that seemed perpetually etched across his lips. His clothes seemed ironed out perfectly and held the perfect amount of badges to show off his station of the castle; as the Head Advisor, one of the people closest to the royal family.

“Still as horrid as usual I see,” he sniffed. “You better hope you don’t get brought before the King.”

“You can’t do anything to me so long as I’m hunting down your feared witch,” she sing-songed. “Which, by the way, she really doesn’t seem that bad. But, ah well, money’s money.”

He didn’t seem none too pleased by the answer, but was content to ignore it for now. “Right…” Swiping his tongue across cracking lips, he finally turned his attention to the lone witch in the room.

They were rather hoping that he would just continue talking to Lowen, but suddenly having his eyes on them shot their heart right into their throat. They buried the lower half of their face into their scarf and shrank away from the scrutiny. Oblivious to their discomfort, or simply not caring, the Head Advisor continued to watch for another moment.

“I want you to use them to locate the Witch of Truth.”

“Huh? And how am I supposed to do that?” Lowen crossed her arms, frowning at the older man.

The man was in no hurry to answer and took his time on it. “You see, we don’t know too much about witches but one thing that we do know is that they all come in groups. If a Witch of Love were to be born, then they’d be perfectly synchronized with a Witch of Apathy, and/or a Witch of Hatred. In a pinch, witches can be used as compasses to feel out where their companions are.”

Lowen’s frown deepened and she dropped her hands, “That’s…”

They couldn’t look up. Of course they’d heard about the Witch of Truth, but they didn’t bother seeking that person out, especially considering all of their issues. Not to mention how it didn’t occur to them that certain witches were synchronized more with certain witches. They’ve met witches that seemed to have an oddly closer connection than they did with others, like Soul Mates…

Well, that doesn’t matter, they thought bitterly. I’m now going to be used to find my companion.

“Witch.”

The pointed word made them look up to see that the Head Advisor was staring pointedly at them. They resisted the urge to fidget and balled their hands together. They weren’t sure what to expect, but what he said next was certainly not it.

“If you cooperate with Miss Lowen and bring the Witch of Truth back to us alive, then you’ll be free.”

They stood stone still, eyes blown wide open as they waited for him to take those words back. It was a joke, it had to be…! “I… What?”

The Head Advisor raised his chin, a flash of annoyance flickering across his face. “I don’t like repeating myself. If you and Lowen bring that witch back to us, alive, then I’ll grant you your freedom.”

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Chapter 8 - The Race is On
​

(Viv’s POV)​

It was a wonder how they were still walking on their two feet. That meeting had lasted into the night and, despite the cheery glow of the lanterns, they were having difficulty seeing in the dark. They’d always suffered from a bit of night blindness, and it seems that proved especially true here. As much as they squinted at the ground below them, their feet found every pebble and sharp piece of concrete.

They tried to keep the wince from their face but when Lowen glanced at them, they knew they’d failed.

“Is something wr-- Why aren’t you wearing any shoes?!” The woman looked at their feet with a mixture of befuddlement and guilt.

A flood of warmth found its way to the tips of their ears and they wasted no time in pulling the edge of their scarf over the lower half of their face. “I was lucky they let me keep my scarf,” even half muffled their voice still came out disinterested.

Lowen squinted at them and then turned to survey the rows of buildings. This late at night, there was hardly a soul to be seen. Lights spilled out of the windows at either side of them but the people were too focused on their own doings to notice two strangers lingering outside.

They were bewildered, to say the least. “Sh-Shouldn’t we be finding an Inn?” They clutched at the rags they called clothes, trying to keep out the chill that invaded their bones.

“In a moment,” she waved them off when her face abruptly lit up. Before they could think to question her, she hurried to one building in question. It looked just like any other home. With beige bricks lying crooked in its foundations. Flowers sat snug in their flower pot, straining to escape it seemed as they bowed over the lip of their containers. Lowen made sure to avoid the golden light pouring forth from the windows as she ducked behind the corner of the house.

It was as she reached out a hand that they realized what she was doing…

“Got it!” She grinned triumphantly as she strode back over to them, a pair of shoes in tow.

“Wh-What are you doing?” The sight of Lowen with such a huge smile on her lips, swaggering over with a pair of shoes as if she’d caught big time game somehow made them wary. They shivered in the evening chill and hugged their arms.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Before they could ask, she dropped to her knees and took one of their feet.

Their mind went blank. She hadn’t touched them before this. In fact, it had kind of looked like she was avoiding them. It had been just fine at the time, because they were still trying to figure out how to feel about her. She was a bounty hunter. Someone that hunted down all sorts of unsavory individuals for money -- including witches…

They jerked back, yanking their foot out of her hand. Lowen paused, blinking slowly at their empty palm before raising her face to meet their gaze. A frown played at her lips, “I’m just trying to put your shoes on your feet. It probably hurts to walk barefooted, right?”
Was she being serious?

No, even if she was…

“Don’t…” Their jaw clenched for a moment, a spark of anger turning their dull eyes a bright gold. “Don’t treat me like a child!” One moment she was metaphorically poking the bear by commenting about their height, the next she was attempting to put their shoes on their feet for them like a child. They had to set things straight right away or she would continue to do so!

The bounty hunter seemed to get the memo, at least. She laid the shoes on the cobblestone pathway and then raised her hands in surrender, an uneasy chuckle slipping from her. “Alright, alright~ I gotcha. You’re capable of doing such simple things on your own.”
She rocked onto her feet and stepped away, perhaps well aware that she’d already pushed them too much. As they watched her, they realized that she had her eyes on the house she’d taken the shoes. Perhaps she was checking to make sure they wouldn’t notice? They breathed a huff and slipped the shoes onto their feet.

The shoes fit almost perfectly, other than for a bit of looseness in the back. They tested them out by walking one length of the path to the other.

“We can find you a better fit later, but I’m sure that’ll do for now.” They looked over to see Lowen smiling at them, leaning against one of the houses.

As she got ready to continue down the path, they found their gaze inevitably drawn back to the house. “Is it really fine to take their things?”

That gave Lowen pause, though it wasn’t a long one. She turned on her heel, waving a hand dismissively. “The people on this road are rich, far more so than us~ And people like you and me have to use any means available to us to survive.” As she turned away she mumbled, “It’s not a huge loss for them.”

They stared after her as she walked into the light of a lamp. It hadn’t occurred to them that she might be in as much of a rough spot as they had been. Sure, at least she had a job. But maybe that was the only thing she could afford to be? They restlessly pulled at their scarf and hurried after her.

…..

(Lunelle’s POV) ​

That night, they trekked out as far as they could away from the city proper. Nord had told her to be cautious of possible guards on the way, but she couldn’t see nor hear anything irregular. The night was quiet save for the chirps of crickets, the hoots of owls, and the wind rustling through the branches overhead. The darkness was piercing, or it would have been without the gentle glow of Nord’s lamp.

At first, she wanted to inquire if that wouldn’t draw unwanted attention, but she took one look around and decided that she’d rather run that risk instead of stumbling around in the dark. She kept close to the man’s back, thankful for the lack of chatter from him.

It gave her time to think. She’d yet to tell him of her plans, but he’d also had yet to tell of his plans. He still needed something from her. Perhaps he was waiting for them to find a safe place to bunker down before discussing the important stuff?

She was hyper vigilant the whole way through, struggling to see through the darkness for anything that shouldn’t have been there. They’d managed to find a path that wasn’t so littered or closed in with branches and things that might trip them up. But she still kept a firm grip on the folds of her skirt, keeping it firmly away from the sharp points of twigs and the like.

She didn’t think that Nord would talk so soon, so his whisper took her off guard.

“Hungry?”

So focused on their own surroundings rather than what was right in front of her, she almost bumped into his back. She came back to herself to notice that he had stopped entirely and was considering her, the glow of the lamp lighting up his sharp features.

She blinked as she processed the question.

Was she? Her stomach was a ball of painful tightening of nerves, but it was hard to tell if that was just because of the nerves or if she was hungry. Maybe it was both.

“Maybe a little bit,” she admitted under her breath.

He nodded in understanding and then pointed ahead of them. When she followed the trail of his finger, she noticed an alcove almost hidden by the shadow of a cliff. It would be the perfect place to hide out for the night. “Then help me gather up a bundle of firewood, if ya don’t mind~”

That night, with the spark of the fire warming their faces, she was at a loss as to what to do. She bit into a dry energy bar, struggling to not wince at the stale taste. Nord had mentioned being able to hunt, but it was too late to do any of that. So for now, they were forced to eat stale energy bars. Of course, that was the least of their problems.

The exhaustion of the day was finally catching up to her. After hours of her body being filled with pure adrenaline, she had begun to doubt that there would be an end to that manic energy. But now, even as she tried to eat, her eyelids grew heavy. Her legs were sore from the intensive exercise and it was all she could do to not hug them to her chest.

Not to mention her brain was foggy from both the physical and emotional strain.

“So, what are your plans?”

She jolted, the sudden question surprising her. With the impending silence, she had almost been lulled into thinking that she was the only one at the fireside. Unbeknownst her, he had been periodically watching her for those past five minutes and had only just dared to speak up. “What plans?” She echoed, blinking owlishly at him, only to rub fiercely at her eyes.

On one hand, she understood that it was an important question. On the other hand, she wanted to actually get some sleep.

“Ya know, plans? You’ve got the whole kingdom scheming to murder you and you kind of need somewhere to go.”

Every thought seemed to come in slow motion but she found herself latching onto the one that refused to leave. He was acting like she had a choice, but… “Hang on. Hang on,” She sighed and squeezed her eyes shut, pinching the bridge of her nose, as if these actions would allow her to focus more clearly. “What about your plans? You need me for something, why would you just let me go that easily?”

If the sparkle in his gaze was anything to go by, he was infinitely amused by the question. She had to wonder just how he had the energy to be amused at all. “It’s not that I’m letting you go~ I’m just confident that we can finish my quest on the way~”

Her frown deepened. Whatever quest he had, he was certainly confident that she would end up doing whatever he wanted.

Shifting, she propped her weary head up on an upturned hand. Her eyes struggled to stay open as she looked him over. Perhaps in her more awake state, she would have noticed what drowsy her didn’t.

“I think you’re just stalling because you actually don’t know where to go,” the man’s sing-songy voice drifted through the air, rubbing at already fraying nerves.

With a glare she huffed, “I’m looking for the Witch Light.”

At that, his teasing attitude died. The look he shot her now sent shivers racing down her back. It was a grave look, far graver than anything she’d witnessed from him so far. His eyes closed and he sighed.

“I know where they are.”