The Witches' Cottage

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The woods spiraled into a hundred different pathways. Navigating through them after dark required extraordinary skill. The trees changed their places as if they were alive. Animal traps creaked above our heads, hung at the crowns of the trees, and the nets like webs rested hidden in the leaves, awaiting their prey. The archer knew where they were and masterfully avoided the traps, veering left and right off the path, and I followed behind, keeping my head low and matching my every move to his. It was as if he was guiding my way in the dark.

Before I knew it, the sunlight washed over the trunks of the trees and the dark withered away, taking the snow with it. The archer slowed his pace and faced me. "We are almost there."

When the last of the trees stepped aside, we came upon a cottage sitting on a patch of green grass on a peaceful summer day. It looked like one of those houses encased in a snow globe, a magical home locked within glass walls. Tall ivory towers rose into the sky with a multitude of weathered doors, closed shutters and secret escape pathways that led back into the woods. A narrow cobble-stoned road snaked to a round door with a golden door knocker.

I moved forward, blinded by the sublime beauty of this fairytale house in the woods, when I stumbled through an almost invisible web of lights. It felt like static electricity, and it jerked me backwards, causing me to fall into the archer, who caught me in his arms.

I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again only to find what I hadn't seen the first time. A veil of magic surrounded the cottage from all sides, a shimmering, star-fringed curtain falling to the ground.

"What are those?" I asked, scrutinizing the magic curiously but cautiously, and rubbing my skin in places where the string of lights had stung me.

"Extraordinary, isn't it?" the archer said, letting me out of his arms. Catching the surprised look on my face, he seemed satisfied.

"How can this be? You told me these woods are a magical blackhole," I asked, bringing my hand toward the veil, but this time not touching it. It was thin, translucent, and changed colors like a soap bubble.

"It is a magical blackhole, you're not wrong," the archer said, approaching the veil and running his hand over the tiny electrical stars. One by one, the stars curled under the warmth of his fingers, and melted, revealing an entryway. "I am a warlock, and my sister is a gifted witch. Our family had sealed off the cottage, and our magic, inside of the woods for centuries. No demon can ever break through this magic," he explained and lowered the hood of the cloak he was wearing, showing me his face.

He looked younger than I imagined. His skin shined with a healthy peach rouge, and the eyes, wonderfully chestnut, had an innocent light in them —the same light I had seen in Nick's eyes.

I felt a pinch inside as my heart filled with the missing of Nick. I wondered where Derek had been. Maybe, if the magic existed inside the cottage, I had a chance of getting back home to them.

"I don't know what to say... I have never met... a warlock," I shrugged, tucking my thoughts of Nick and Derek away, and studying the golden locks that fell to the warlock's shoulders. His face radiated with warmth, and little by little my heart started to slow down.

The warlock chuckled, observing me. "You don't have to say anything. We are human. There is no doubt about that. Our emotions are triggered by nature, and so is our magic. When we are sad — the flowers wither. When we smile — everything blooms. We don't age easily but we also don't get to live forever," the warlock said as he gestured me to follow him through the veil.

As soon as we stepped inside, our bodies became distorted by its magic, but it wasn't long before everything went back to normal, and I felt the sunshine warm my face.

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