CW: This chapter contains profanity and physical violence.

In the Town in the Witch's Valley

They followed her, unspeaking, but she could hear their sharp inhales at her odd gait, and sense how they tightened their grips on their old rusted weapons. Once they grew close enough to hear her laughing, their faces twisted in horror. "Ahhhh, damn. I've made it worse again," Valla chided herself, speaking lightly as though chatting with friends over a pint. Which she had been, hours ago, with some of the same people.

"You cannot stay here, Daemon. You've played with us long enough, and we won't let you prey on us any longer. Leave, now." Harman was speaking this time, growling through his greying beard, standing as tall and sturdy as the oak that shaded the paddock behind the tavern. The others moved outward, surrounding her as she stayed against the Hall's doors.

"I've done you no harm, by the Witch's honor, and you are breaking her code, Harman," Valla said, still speaking lightly, keeping reproval faint in her tone. "Think carefully before you act."

Orlo finally broke free from the vice of her fear. "You are nothing the Witch would ever keep within her laws," she got out, outraged. "I Saw you. You are just a snake and fire, something evil. A creature of the Burned Realm, or something worse."

Impressive, really. Orlo had seen her power and even the collar that bound her and mistaken it for a snake. It really wasn't that strange that she assumed Valla to be something infernal. This was worse than Valla had realized. "And if you are wrong, Orlo? I hold your Sight in high esteem, friend, but do not mistake what you See to be absolute truth. That is foolish."

She shook her head, defiant, but before they could speak, Aisel stepped forward, only a few paces from Valla. "Don't engage with it. You've heard it charm us with its words and music, and we don't know what it might weave if we let it speak further. If you won't leave, daemon, we will make you."

Valla shook her head, smiling, arms folded as she rested her head back on the wooden wall. "I don't doubt it. But I won't fight you, and I won't leave yet. I'm not done here, and I have the right to stay. Call the Witch. Call the council to the Hall. We should decide this properly."

For all their fear and ire, they didn't seem to be quite ready to act. Perhaps they were too afraid, or even now they found striking at an unarmed opponent unsavory. Valla had hoped that she could stall them with words and encourage them to follow some sort of protocol. She had even hoped they might have done so themselves and had honestly expected they would simply restrain her after calling for the Witch. But if Orlo had seen so clear a vision, and Harman and Neema had concurred, they might be too frightened. After all, none of them had any real reason to expect the Witch who they had never seen in person to appear simply because they called.

"Call for Horma." Valla spoke gently now, as if to a frightened horse. "She will help you. She knows what to do now. You are all too young."

Aisel scoffed but looked uncertain. The village had no single leader, but they did have a council. Aisel, Neema, Harman, and Welem were all members, as were Horma and four other town elders. It was practically unheard of for them to make a decision so big without the council present. Welem spoke now, tense and certain.

"We have enough of the council here to act on a clear threat. We have already sent word to the other councilmembers, but we will not summon our elders here only to be slaughtered by the likes of you. And the Witch's rules do not forbid defense of our town."

The silence grew wider as they shifted. Valla sighed. "So, what will you do now? I cannot leave yet. You won't summon the Witch. I will submit to restraints if that eases your mind."

A few of their faces twisted in suspicion, notably all three of those with the Sight, as well as Aisel’s. Welem looked taken aback, and Peeter and Igor stepped backwards slightly. Valla kept pushing. She lifted her hands slowly towards them, palms up, the fabric wraps covering her mage's collar.

"Please, friends, see reason. I am no stranger here. Your fear is sudden and unwarranted." Welem opened his mouth, perhaps to suggest they could just restrain her, but Orlo shouted, vibrating with frustrated rage.

"Don't trust it! We don't know what it wants! Ropes won't hold it!" The whole circle tensed again, and Valla ground her teeth.

"Think seriously, Orlo! What could I possibly want that I wouldn't already have taken? And if I am so nefarious, what do you have to gain by challenging me?" Neema flinched, and Valla realized that in her anger she had let her power flare slightly. She muttered a bitter curse in self-recrimination as Neema gasped warnings to the group. Aisel finally shouted angrily, leaping forward with Harman at her side, Orlo and Neema close behind.

It really was redundant to attack with so many at once, especially armed, Valla mused, her rage gone now that she had to act, dodging Harman's club and Aisel's sword. They couldn't move safely so close to one another, unskilled as they were. The others darted forward, sometimes making a strike, Orlo jabbing with the pitchfork, growing increasingly frustrated as Valla twisted and wound through the weapons in motions beyond what was humanly possible. Peeter struck Welem a glancing blow accidentally with his club. "Lucky that wasn't a sword, eh, Welem?" Valla deadpanned, earning growls from Neema and Harlan. She really should move into the road, away from the wall. That would let them encircle her, but it would give them more room. They were only going to hurt themselves at this rate, and knowing that, she couldn't in good conscience just let it happen, could she? So she wove around Igor's sword and backed into the center of the dirt road, followed by the stumbling and fully enraged mob.

Well, she thought wryly, at least now I know I’m no good at diplomacy. Valla’s amnesia had left her without a full sense of her own character and skills. At least this was a break in the monotony of the last two years. She was learning things about herself, for example, that she would let her emotions run wild until she was surrounded by angry townsfolk with no plan and no guarantee of backup on the way. She could only hope the Witch was coming, and quickly.

CW: The next chapter contains allusions to self-harm and depictions of physical violence.