~ 52 ~ A Witch at War

195 25 0
                                    

The harsh clack of Lenesa's boots on the cobblestones was only broken by the snap of bone as a stranger with suspicion in his eyes made to intercept her. The man tried to scream, but it came out as no more than a whisper after her magic had silenced his voice, and so he fell to the ground with a dull thud, clutching his leg in agony.

It was a clean break. It would heal well.

With no more than a glance to the man as she stepped around him, Lenesa continued on her way to the city center.

Evening was fast approaching—it seemed she had been unconscious for some time, covered by the goblin cloak in that house.

Gone with Decliteur.

That was what the note had said. She had read it over and over, trying to make sense of it. Ever since she had sent Theiden back home, everything was going terribly. First she had been almost caught by Decliteur's men and killed those guards at the river gate, and then the explosion at the festival...It felt more and more as though the whole town was against her. They didn't care that she turned the other cheek and tried to help. She didn't want credit. She just wanted to be useful—to prove to herself more than anything that magic wasn't the terrible thing everyone said it was.

She thought of the guards of the river gate, and how she had—had killed.

Or was magic truly a wicked thing after all? Was she really a monster?

Audeste and the other Turned witch certainly seemed to have embraced that way of thinking. Lenesa looked down at her gloved hands. Had she been in denial her whole life? Was this truly her fate – the fate of all witches? It seemed magic corrupted them all at one point or another. Even her all-powerful Aunt Mona hadn't managed to escape being Turned.

Well, she was about find out. If tonight didn't kill her, she would either be able to return to her cottage and resume her life as usual, or emerge from this all as a Turned witch and spend the rest of her days killing anyone who came across her path. Speaking of which—

Another figure was stepping out from a building up ahead, their back still to Lenesa as they locked their door. Before the person could turn around, Lenesa sent out her magic, not bothering to watch as the person clutched their head in a fit of dizziness and collapsed, unconscious, at their doorstep.

But it wasn't that person she should have been concerned about. Lenesa realized too late when she heard the sharp intake of breath up ahead, followed by a rapid slapping of shoes against cobblestones as whoever it was tried to run away.

Lenesa snorted in dark amusement.

Tried.

The swiftness spell took hold in only seconds, and Lenesa was soon around the alley corner and grabbing whoever it was by the back of their cloak. Her hand was already raised in an open claw, magic crackling at her fingertips, when the other person turned, their hood slipping back, and the reality of what Lenesa was about to do finally sunk in.

It was her.

The same dark curly hair, the same strong jawline – and the same wide, frightened eyes staring up at her.

It was Theiden's daughter.

That the girl was too frightened to speak at the moment was probably the one thing saving her after Lenesa had recovered her initial shock. If Em were to scream now, Lenesa's fear of – no, her determination to not get caught would see her instinctively lashing out to muffle the sound.

I'm out of control.

Right hand still raised, Lenesa let go of the girl's cloak as though it were on fire, and took two slow, hesitant steps back.

Forever GreenWhere stories live. Discover now