The Warlock

Home Away From Home

After the incident at the Inn, the Warlock disappeared from Kadagv for almost a month. I couldn't feel his aura anywhere in the countryside, and I had no idea where, or how, to search for him. So I tended to the hut as best as I could. I pruned and watered the plants in the garden, I sorted through ingredients and brewed fresh potions, and took them into the town for the needy and helpless.

I tried to help people where I could while the Warlock was away. A farmer's daughter had fallen ill and I brewed her a potion of vigor that helped her through the illness. Her mother and father thanked me but I refused anything more than a meal as thanks. A week later, another farmer, who lived on the outskirts of the village broke his leg when he fell off the roof of his house, trying to repair it. I was visiting Kadagv the next day, and after a few inquiries into who the man was, where he lived, I managed to track down his house and arrived in the late afternoon. I gave him some herbal remedies for the pain, and helped right his leg, which was not broken too badly. In a few months, I said, it would heal, good as new.

The farmer lived alone in a small house by the southern wall of the village. His wife had died many years ago, being killed by wild animals in the forest. They had been married for a short time, and had no children.

"I am too headstrong, and old now, truth be told, to have another wife," the farmer, who was called Chal, shrugged. I couldn't help but be a little surprised at this, since he didn't look much older than I was, in his early thirties, most likely.

"But sir," I shook my head politely, "you are spritely and comely for your age. I'm sure any woman you courted would gladly have you."

I did believe what I said, of course, but it was mostly a comment for the sake of politeness. Chal looked at me a little strangely, as if thinking about something. After a moment's silence, he did ask.

"Master, begging your pardon, but could I ask you a personal question?" His voice was humble and quiet, I could see he'd brought up the point with a lot of trepidation and uncertainty.

"Of course, I will try to answer it," I smiled slightly, "as long as it is not too personal, I suppose."

Though Chal stalled and mumbled a little more, he did get to the point of speaking again in a little bit.

"The thing is, Master, I've been around, not just in Kadagv... I've walked across this country for many miles in my youth, you understand. I only settled down here after meeting my late wife, not half a decade ago. But during that time... I have heard stories about witches."

I had a pretty good idea what sort of question he was going to ask me before he asked it. Many people were curious about witches, our habits and ways of life, our strange rituals and seclusion. I had been asked many such things (though usually a little less forwardly) by people all my life, at least since I was old enough to practice witchcraft and carry around my Grimoire.

What Chal did ask me, though, surprised me a little.

"I have heard that men-witches are only ever attracted to other men," he said, quickly, and looked up at me, waiting for some reaction.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise but said nothing at first. I did smile though, to relieve the tension somewhat.

"I can see why you might get that impression," I said, slowly. "It's true, thinking about it now, there are not many male witches I know who are attracted to women. But I suppose the truth is that the attraction of a witch to other people is not the same as mortal attraction."

"How, Master?" I had taken a little pause, and he interjected, clearly intrigued. I laughed a little at his curiosity, but answered.

"The auras of non-magick people are different to witches. It is... well, Chal, have you ever been attracted to a woman's smell, perhaps?"