crowded by
all the knick-knacks she appeared to have, Elisa couldn’t
understand how she could have stayed there as long as she had.
What surprised her most was the appearance
of the witch. Elisa had mentally prepared herself for an old lady,
with rags on her body and warts on her nose. What she got instead
was a young-looking girl, maybe around her late twenties, with long
blonde, almost white hair, and a beautiful white robe on her body.
The robe had embroidered symbols in it, stitched with a gold and
silver thread that seemed to shimmer wherever she walked. It looked
almost magical. The witch had wide, deep blue eyes and a friendly
smile when she greeted her. Elisa couldn’t understand why anyone
would be afraid of this place.
“People are always afraid of what they don’t
know,” the witch said from the kitchen, as if she were reading
Elisa’s mind. She walked back over to the sitting area, carrying a
tray with an old teapot and two cups on it. She smiled down at
Elisa as she placed the tray on the small table before taking a
seat on the sofa across from her. “Stories circulate of a witch
living here, and everyone thinks the worst. What most people don’t
know, is that the witch they knew died some years back now, and had
taken on a new apprentice before then. I have taken up her
teachings since she passed, and so now I have become the resident
freak.” She chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t correct any
of the rumours, finding the privacy preferable.”
“You are so young,” Elisa blurted out,
immediately cursing herself for being rude.
The witch laughed, pouring them both a cup
of tea. “Young in age, my dear, but old in my soul. I’ve had
centuries of teachings passed down to me, and that can’t help but
age one’s inner spirit. Now, what is your name?”
Elisa was shocked by this, assuming this
woman would just know her somehow. Was she not psychic?
“I am no fortune-teller,” she interrupted
her thoughts. “I know things, but not all. Some things I choose not
to look for, finding it nicer to have people introduce themselves
normally. Normality is fiercely underrated.”
“I apologize for my rudeness,” she replied,
feeling her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. “My name is Elisa,”
she introduced herself.
“Ah, you are Alistair’s star pupil, and also
the great Captain Turk’s daughter, then. They must be in great need
if they sent you here alone.”
Elisa nodded her head, searching for the
words the High Priest had told her to recount. “The High Priest
told me to tell you that the time has come for the warrior to be
awakened. The force in the north is growing too strong, and they
fear our men will not be enough to destroy the monsters the
sorcerer has created.” The witch grunted at that remark, but
remained quiet. Elisa continued on with her narrative. “Alistair
has discussed their weaknesses with the High King and his
Chancellor, and both have agreed that they need a force of their
own. Something that will be strong enough to challenge whatever
Brutus and Callum send down the mountain. We need the foretold
warrior, before Eden is lost forever.”
The witch stood up and walked toward the
fire in the stove. She was silent for a while. Elisa sat in
silence, awkwardly waiting for her to respond. Even though her
father and the High Priest had trusted her with this message, and
the journey it entailed, she had no idea what any of it meant.
Alistair had explained that there was a great warrior that would
help them to victory, but she didn’t understand why they needed the
witch, or where this warrior actually was. Unexpectedly, the witch
began to smile.
“I understand the great need Eden has for
this one, but I’m not sure your father and Alistair realize the
work that is still yet to be done. I will get this warrior for them
at the next full moon. You may come back here to get him.” She
turned to look at Elisa. “You alone. Until then, you must explain
to your
Learning to Kill: Stories