The Dark Witch, page 11
part #3 of Crimson Black Series
Casey whimpered and attempted to get out of my arms. “Hey—don’t…” Not wanting to drop her, I plopped her rear on the ground and she dashed along the trail. “Casey—no!” I called out to her, the sound of my voice shattering the silence of the night. I immediately lowered my voice and half-whispered Casey’s name, hoping she’d come back. I didn’t know how many creatures lurked in the pitch-black forest, but I had to doubt they wouldn’t hesitate to make a snack out of a little lost dog. She traveled about twenty feet ahead and halted to peer back at me as if to ask, ‘are you coming or not?’
“Come here!” I tried to sound commanding, but she kept trotting forward, not listening to a single word. “Casey!” I ordered in annoyance. “Dang-it, dog.”
I took a sharp breath and prayed to the gods for our safe passage. “F-it…,” I groaned and followed her, struggling to catch up to her brisk trot. “Sheesh—for a short-legged dog, you’re fast.” She ran, maintaining the distance between us. I kept my eyes on her miniature body, dashing along the dirt path without a care in the world that predators could be around us.
Suddenly, I spotted what appeared to be a dim light in the distance. The light flickered in the blackness like a beacon of hope. As we got closer, more flames appeared, and suddenly I realized there was an iron rod about my height, mounted into the ground with a bowl welded to the top, which was holding burning oil. The smell of kerosene reminded me of my grandmothers antique oil lamp. As we got closer, the heat warmed my cold cheeks, and I brought my hands near the blaze. I couldn’t help but to exhale in relief, happy to have found light after roaming in the pitch blackness. The darkness has always stirred my anxiety to the point where I’d have panic attacks and pass out. I feared the dark more than anything else and being next to the torch allowed me to breathe once again, before regaining focus on my brave little dog.
Casey kept racing forward, and the other torches revealed shadows of bridges and homes, high in the trees. A village… Here of all places…
I squinted to see the bottom parts of the wooden carved houses with what small light the flames offered. I noticed rope ladders dangling from high in the branches. The trunks of these trees were wide in diameter, and broad enough to be a traditional-sized home, but taller than the skyscrapers in New York City. Green moss covered the barks as we passed by, struggling to tiptoe over the gigantic roots exposed above the ground.
Casey leaped and crawled under the roots, while I followed and gazed up at the cleverly designed homes. Each section raised in rows to the top like a layered cake. Although, I couldn’t quite see the details and colors. I could only see the frameworks of the dark creation like evaluating a silhouetted drawing. I saw no lights in the treehouses, so I assumed whoever lived in them were still asleep or, so I thought.
A hand suddenly clutched my forearm, causing my heart to slam against my rib cage. Panic stricken and I slowly turned my head to look at what had grabbed me, it was a guy. His twinkling blue eyes captured my attention first, later I saw his short curled blonde hair. Then I noticed his ears, they were long and pointy! “An Elf,” I breathed, still paralyzed. My forehead ached from how wide my eyes opened, but his calm face expressed no signs I was intruding. He just gazed into my eyes, and for some odd reason a crooked grin appeared on his lips. Why was he smiling?
As the Elven male loosened his grip, a vision came surging back. It was an image of him that had appeared throughout my childhood. I identified him as the one who held my hand while escorting me home in the night, after the first time I discovered the village. Every evening since then, he’d wait in the forest’s entrance, to bring me into this enchanted place. “I remember you…” He was my friend. “Quynn...” I stepped back enough to get a better look at him since I hadn’t seen him for years. Back then, I was half his height but now I was almost as tall as he was.
Even though I was all grown up, I noticed his age remained the same, unaffected by time. Wearing the same hunter green leather clockwork vest with black onyx buttons, tight black slacks and high-boots with brass buckles on the belts and golden seams along the leather. His black diamond earrings contrasted with his fair skin and Celtic symbols tattooed on his bare toned arms. One that stood out the most was near his right shoulder, the insignia of the tree. It was the same design as my grandmothers ring! I waited for him to say something, then I remembered he couldn’t speak. Quynn was born mute from what faded memory I had left of him. This was a woodland Elf village that migrated across the sea. They came from the Norse country to organize a settlement away from the vast population of humans.
An Elven village cloaked in heavy magic and not discernible by the mundane. Although, those with the vision to see beyond the shroud can discover the villages and more. Unlike the rest of my family, I was the only one blessed with that sight, entirely believing all I encountered was just an enchanted dream. Forever, I thought Quynn was a figment of my imagination and Elves were just fairytale characters from novels. “You’re real.”
Quynn rushed in for a hug, enveloping me in his slender arms. His scent was familiar, like honey. Which was soothing, since I remember his tender embraces from when he piggybacked me through the forest. However, we were always with another Elf who was our friend. The redhead… Who was she…?
“Quynn…” A female voice echoed in the shadows behind me. “Who are you...? What are you doing here?”
I swung around, spotting a fiery redhead approaching us. She directed her darkened eyes towards me with an unpleasant glare. She halted a foot away, where she became more apparent in the light of the torches. Wearing linen slacks and high-boots that went up to her knees.
“Kristen…” The Elven woman knew my name. Her eyes softened and her pink lips fell open in amazement. “Is that you?”
Still not clear who she was, I stood silent, trying to observe her in the faint lighting. She wore a black vest that extended passed her hips like a dress, fitting her curved slender frame. Around her waist was a broad belt with a glittering dragon shaped buckle to pair with her bangles, bracelets, and earrings. They were all shaped like serpent dragons with jade stones for the scales and emerald gems for the eyes. Her appearance was more Asian-like, which was unusual since Quynn looked Nordic. Then I remembered the Elven woman I’d seen in my vision who was with us. “Faylen…” I recalled her name.
She sauntered up close and embraced me as Quynn did. Only she was softer, and her perfume reminded me of my grandmother’s flower gardens. As I returned the hug, I started to have flashbacks of her showing me the forest and the creatures she nurtured. There was nothing to fear with them by my side, revealing the magical wonders of the forest.
“I can’t believe I forgot you guys!”
“You’re all grown, I see.” Faylen took a better look at me and caressed my face with her tender hands. “You grew out your hair.” Her fingertips combed the side of my head and found my ponytail tucked inside my hoodie. She pulled it out and held it in her hand. “I’m pleased to see not everything has changed.” She smiled. “Always letting your beautiful hair become a knotted mess…” Her eyes became serious as her hand found its way over my heart. Then she looked over at Quynn. “You must feel confused about everything now. I assume you forgot about this place and us?”
“How did you know?”
“It happens often to human wanderers who find openings into our villages. It’s the enchantment placed on this forest, if one doesn’t come back for a certain time, all their memories will lock away. Only coming back can unlock all your experiences. However, none has ever found their way back—except for you. I should have realized then you were different.”
“Different—how?” I held still as she gingerly touched my chest wound. “I’m sorry I forgot and still can’t remember much about this place and… you guys.”
“Most of the time, that’s what it is to a human, but you—somehow, found your way back.”
“Not on my own,” I confessed not wanting to lie to them. Quynn stood next to Faylen, staring and waiting for me to say what’s going on. By the expression on both their faces and how Faylen kept glancing down at my chest, there was a possibility they sensed something was wrong.
“We should take this somewhere more private.” Faylen suggested. “The others will be waking up soon.” She angled her head for all of us to follow her. “Welcome back, young one.” Her words carried warmth, even though concern still lingered on her face. Casey trotted ahead as if she knew where to go, even though it was her first time being here.
“I see a familiar has bound itself to you.” Faylen commented. “That means you have awakened into a Witch.”
“What—a familiar?” It didn’t occur to me Casey could be one.
“You have awakened, and you haven’t at least learned about familiars?” Faylen added. “How much have you learned already?”
“I studied about familiars, but I didn’t think it was a real thing.”
“Oh yes — throughout the ages, all true Witches are assigned a familiar as a gift from nature.” She answered. “They present themselves in many forms. To the human eye they can appear as simple as a butterfly, bird, cat, or even small dogs in your case. However, their true forms are divine in the spirit realm and powerful. When they’re assigned to you, their job is to make sure you don’t destroy yourself while learning to control and manipulate energy… Magic. Some can protect you against the dark forces at hand.”
“Casey—a protector?” Then I remembered when she stole the crystal and laid it in the corner. “So, do familiars know about rituals of magic?”
“Yes…” Faylen answered. “They are knowledgeable on spells and rituals. Some familiars become the muses to their masters in a way. For instance, by producing poetic spells and enchantments. Then there are some that can perform their own rituals and incantations. However, all familiars act differently according to whom they’re assigned to. Not all would be as active, depending on the potential of the Sorcerer or whether they serve the light or dark.” Faylen watched Casey locating her cabin on the outskirts of a stream. “Well—she seems to know where she’s going quite well.” She giggled at my dog walking through the open door of the logged home and waited by a small burning fireplace.
We all walked inside and Faylen closed the door. Inside, the space was small with a single bed against the corner. Casey strolled over and leaped on the thick woven red blanket covering the feather-stuffed mattress. There were shelves along the walls cluttered with books, jars full of herbs, and vials of white milky liquid that glowed in the dark. On the right was a table, on top an ink container with a feathered quill made with a silvery tip, lying next to a large leather-bound book. When I got closer, I saw that it was open to a page with an inked-drawing of a Belladonna plant. A close-up image of the berry and flower, along with words scribbled around the additional space, which wasn’t legible enough for me to read from afar. To the left, there were branches of sage dangling upside-down above the stone-built fireplace and an iron cauldron hung over the flames. Inside was a golden broth boiling with vegetables.
“Would you like soup?” Faylen offered while I gazed at the potatoes, carrots, and greens inside the pot. The aroma alone made my stomach growl. “You must be hungry by now since it’s almost dawn.” She grabbed three wooden bowls and spoons off a shelf above the fireplace. “Quynn and I have what you humans call breakfast at this hour.”
“I would love some, thank you,” I answered as the hunger grew. “I guess Elves don’t use terms such as breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
“Us and many from the other realms have adapted to the human tongue,” she explained. “We learn the new vocabulary and urban terms throughout the ages to communicate with your kind. All creatures and gods of both light and darkness adapt themselves to the evolving ages. Otherwise, you would not understand me if I talked to you in our native tongue or the old English from the renaissance period. We would struggle to understand each other, am I right?”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “I’d never thought of it that way. So, that makes you and Quynn immortals then? Because you both look exactly the same from fifteen, sixteen years ago.”
“We are not immortals, silly,” Faylen answered.
I saw Quynn from the corner of my eye snickering.
“Don’t laugh at her, Quynn.” she mock-glared at him. “She is only learning our world. There was no way of understanding all this as a child. A child only sees the mystical beauty of our existence.”
“You may be right,” I touched my wound where it throbbed.
“Now you’re an adult and from what I can sense, a maturing Witch… The surrounding energy in your aura has become stronger.”
“I haven’t been practicing for long though,” I confessed. “Things kinda got a-bit out of control.”
“You were not ready yet to receive the gifts,” she explained. “However, you will learn and understand more about our world and your gifts as time progresses. I assume you’ve not had it easy then. When I met you for the first time—when Quynn brought you here, I figured you had seen things no other human had. To wander in the dark forest all by yourself, it was peculiar. A dark night as this, yet you were fearless. Then I sensed what had visited you often. It concerned me and Quynn how much the darkness followed you, even though your heart emitted sweetness and innocence—full of light.” She sighed while filling our bowls with steaming soup. “Our time apart, that light has faded, hasn’t it? Even now, I sense a shell encasing your heart little by little. It makes me wonder what has happened to you, Kristen.”
I remained silent as she passed me the bowl and a spoon.
“To correct your assumption about us, we are not immortal—we age much slower than humans. Time in the realm of man goes a lot quicker than ours. Our kind after a certain age, will not show signs of aging for centuries. We bleed and die the same as man—from the blade of a sword, an arrowheads tip finding our hearts, an enemy taking revenge—from war.” Her eyes gazed off into the fire. “Our kind suffers the same burdens as man.” She turned and gazed at me once again. “Immortality is only for the gods—or the cursed.”
“The cursed, huh?” My wound throbbed harder as I took a sip of the savory soup. The broth hot against my lips but tasted balanced with a flavor of saltiness and sweet richness from the carrots and onions.
“You mentioned something about not finding this place on your own,” Faylen reminded me.
“Yeah…” I pondered in my head about how much to tell them. “How I ended up back here wasn’t by sheer chance. Earlier yesterday my uncle and I came down here to cut down the dead tree near the archway.”
“Oh, yes—the one the lightning struck.”
“Something or someone revealed the path to me again,” I answered. “How me and Casey ended up here this morning was because of the owl who has been following me since I left Virginia. I think she’s a Witch. I’m not sure, though.”
“Mm—I know who you speak of,” Faylen responded. “But why—why is she guiding you?”
“Is there a problem?”
Faylen and Quynn eyed each other. “The Witch you speak of—she goes by many names in both man and our world. Many appearances… However, her real name has disappeared from history. In your realm, in the Greek ancient history, they knew her as the Oracle of Delphi, Pythia. A powerful seer who many sought to get an insight about the future. In the Hebrew bible they called her ‘The Witch of Endor,’ a necromancer who summoned the spirit of Samuel under the command of King Saul. To us—she is the cursed one known as the Sorceress of Exile. The highest God of all realms cast her out of the grace of the 9th heaven and nature, when she broke the natural law of bringing back the dead. No one knows her actual identity since it happened before any of us were born. Elders have even forgotten who she was. Only her sins were mentioned throughout the ages. She is the only oldest living Sorceress who suffers the curse of immortality, and her kin suffer a similar fate as a part of her punishment by the heavens. The Gods themselves don’t interfere and only they know of who she is. That’s why Quynn and I are not taking this lightly.” Faylen approached me once again and tugged the shoulder of my hoodie. “Take off your jacket.”
I glanced at her not wanting to at first, yet the sternness in her eyes swayed my decision. I handed her the bowl of soup and then unzipped my jacket until I could open it wide and slide it down my arms. My wound became completely exposed through my tank-top and Faylen’s fingers grazed over the wound’s throbbing black veins along my skin.
“As I thought…” She exhaled while analyzing it. “What has happened to you?”
“Do you know what this is?” I asked her.
“No—I don’t,” she replied. “This is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”
Quynn’s eyes saddened when I looked at him.
“Two weeks ago, I was on my deathbed. No one could do anything for me, but then this woman appeared. I would have thought she was an angel. I felt my loneliest with the last minutes of life draining out of me. There was no way to survive what was happening. It was only a matter of time and I didn’t care if she was an Angel or a Demon—I didn’t want to be alone. Then she forms a dagger out of mid-air.”
“A dagger…” Faylen gasped.
“She told me everything would be ok—that eternity was her gift to me.” Her voice echoed in my mind as I remembered her soothing tone. “I believed her. It didn’t matter anymore what would happen. I was at peace with everything—until she plunged the blade into my chest.” My hand covered the wound involuntarily. “I felt it pierce my heart and the pain…. Before I knew it—I’d died.”
“What else did you see beyond your death?” Faylen was wide-eyed and curious. Quynn had tears rolling down his cheeks as if my story broke his heart.
“What did I see—beyond… The darkness was all I could see in death. Nothing else—It seemed like I would never see the light again, wherever I was. But I didn’t stay dead.” I gaze directly into Faylen’s eyes. “Now I’m here. The Witch, the owl, whoever she may be… She guided me here, and now I can see why. It’s remembering you two. To remember this place… A place I thought never existed… Whatever her intentions are behind all this—despite her history, she is my guide through all this—and this curse.” I referred to the black wound that eased its throb.
