In the Witch's Town

Before Doren could do much more than huff in exasperation, the air went frigid. It was more than a cold wind heralding an unseasonable autumn storm. There was no wind at all. The cold simply arrived, permeating the air around them all, freezing their breath and frosting the grass that grew along the road. Doren wished fervently that he'd taken the time to dress. As the cold grew deeper, a knowing sort of terror spread through the villagers, and something like hope spread across a few of their faces, including the giant's and Aisel's. Valla gave a soft sigh and crumpled to the ground, letting the rusty sword she'd doubtless stolen from the blond man cowering behind Doren fall to the side with a muted thud. Doren took a step toward her, but Orlo grabbed his arm, shaking her head.

"The Witch will deal with her now," she said, as though that should be a comfort. Her voice was oddly muffled in the cold air. "Witch?" began Doren, but his questions were answered as a stately older woman stepped out of the building they were standing in front of, opening the heavy wooden doors to what seemed to be a Hall with a wave of a wrinkled hand.

"Oh my," the Witch chided. "What on earth's realm have you done here, Child?" She was addressing Valla. The others seemed relieved and almost eager despite their fear, watching as the Witch stepped closer to Valla, who stayed hunched on the dirt, breathing deeply and slowly. The cold eased, but the muffled feeling remained. The Witch was diminutive, with dull grey hair piled on top of her head and roughly made clothing of what might have been hemp. A simple rope belt tied around her waist had pouches of all shapes and sizes tied to it, and her feet were bare. Despite this, she was bright with power, poised like a queen, and was quite possibly the most terrifying being Doren had encountered. Except maybe for Valla, although she admittedly did not look particularly terrifying at this moment.

"Witch," Valla murmured, "I was foolish. I will go now. Please bless that man so I can leave with him."

"Horma called me." The Witch ignored Valla's words, bending down to lift her chin and examining her face. She placed a small hand on her forehead, and Valla shuddered. The Witch frowned deeply.

"I see. And after all that I did to put you back together before, Child." She stood and turned far quicker than should have been possible, stepping closer to the others. "You all know me." It was a statement, not a question, but a few nodded clumsily. "You all know my rules." Another statement. No nods. "What happened here?"

At first, no one answered. After a beat, Aisel spoke, their voice far from certain. "Orlo saw what she – it – was. We told it to leave, but it wouldn't. We defended the town." The Witch was suddenly before Aisel, muddy brown eyes piercing as she examined their face. Just as quickly, she moved and stood instead before Orlo. Aisel sagged as she left.

"What did you See?" asked the Witch. Her face and voice had gone blank.

"A-a s-s-snake. Blue. And fire." Orlo was crying. "It's a daemon. Its fire was so bright. It would kill us all. It's been deceiving us for years!"

"Foolish Child." The Witch spoke as though issuing a sentence, and Orlo flinched back. Behind her, Valla laughed softly. She was not laughing at Orlo, Doren realized suddenly. The Witch had been speaking to Valla again, and Valla was chuckling, as if at a mildly amusing joke, spoken casually and meant lightly. There was no fear of the Witch in Valla’s demeanor at all.

"My rules are simple. Peace. I protect you all." Now the Witch addressed the crowd. "She has been here with you because I sent her. Did you think I did not know what she was? Did you think I sent you a daemon? Did you think me weaker than a daemon?" Doren had the errant thought that it really would be better for someone to sit them all down and educate them on daemon lore.

Everything from abject fear to simple confusion to even impatience could be found on the faces of the townsfolk. It was clear that they had expected the Witch to smite Valla where she stood and praise them for their valor. While some had grasped that they were, potentially, in trouble themselves, others seemed still to be waiting for the smiting.

"You acted out of fear and with cruelty," the Witch continued.

"They acted out of ignorance," Valla interrupted. She spoke as if to an equal. Her next words grated slightly, as though dragged out of her. "I acted out of self-pity." She finally looked up at the Witch, holding her gaze, the air growing more frigid as the seconds passed, a haze growing as fog formed from condensation. "This did not need to happen."

The Witch was completely still, the promise of violence permeating the thickening fog as frost crept up the walls of the hall. "You accuse me?"

Valla's eyes were still slightly unfocused, but the grey was like iron, her gaze burning. "Time is shorter for them, friend, and I am strange. They did not remember you as they should have. Remind them. But they did not break your rules in defiance. They did so in ignorance." Sagging forward slightly where she sat on the ground, she sighed softly, her tone now gentle. "And I was a fool."

Silence stretched on. Doren was confused, but not nearly as much as the would-be mob around him. Only a few of them seemed to have fully grasped that the daemon was arguing on the villagers’ behalf, and he could see terror begin to grow as this realization spread. It was clear that the Witch was not a benevolent figure to them - she was, perhaps, as strange to them as Valla. This town was not a simple place, but a Witch's realm, and their violence broke the covenant they kept with Her. They had unwittingly risked their existence and now were frozen in the grasp of an overlord they had apparently never seen before.

Doren moved forward through the stagnant air and to Valla's side. He felt the townsfolk stir behind him and then still suddenly as the Witch spoke. "Call your council. Gather in the Hall. Know you are in no danger from the one you attacked and remember my rules before we meet."

CW: The next chapter contains depictions of serious injuries and allusions to imprisonment.