That night, as usual, dinner was being had with the king.
And as was won't, the hall was quiet and every witch's mannerism was impeccable to a fault.Over the days Ochen had stopped staring at and puzzling over the king, but she still did once in a while. The witches behaviours presently were so perfect it was almost absurd, cutleries didn't clink against plates; no atom or crumb of food could be found on the table, the witches even appeared to eat in unison. They spent precisely three seconds cutting into their food and a second putting it into their mouths.Even as Dea ate equally impeccably her attention was not in the hall or the people around her, It was within a dark, enclosed and segmented place; which was her magic case.
The figure in the rune weave was a mystery she didn't know she even wanted to solve, there was an aura of obscurity surrounding it that was just begging for an investigation.She pictured the figure in her mind'After a lengthy spell class the witches were back at the dinning hall."I think I'm starting to doubt. . ." Ochen said skeptically.Dea picked on her crepes as she waited for Ochen to continue."I think I couldn't possibly be the royal witch, partly because I was unable to draw myself being one in the distinct future. ."As Ochen spoke on, Dea nodded committedly, offering consoling remarks once in a while.When Ochen had gone quiet she swept her gaze over the witches in the hall and wondered, again, if they had a similar prediction to hers.Her perusal ended on the somber witch beside her, and for some reason she spoke to her. "I love your hair."The dark haired witch slowly turned towards her, like she didn't expect anyone to be speaking to her."I love your hair," Dea repeated, "my hair couldn't possibly attain such g
The next day, the witches stood complete in their 'special clothes' on the snow,Dea's teeth chattered rapidly and she breathed out puffs of snow.Where they were was vast and covered heavily in snow, beside them were the woods, as more witches joined up; Dea didn't fail to note that Faina had adjusted her breeches so that it hugged her calves tightly.They all waited in silence for the warlocks to arrive, after they had eaten breakfast Sybil informed them their first class would be elemental training.All the witches were positively vibrating with excitement.Dea was not.Earlier, she had met the prince, and their meeting was disastrous. . .*"Good morning, your highness," she greeted after she was admitted into the office.His hair which always sleek and secured pr
Nary a soul walked through the streets of willows bark, the red witches were soon to begin their 'ceremony' as it was.The street was cloaked in darkness and hung heavily with an eerie silence; red glows from lit torches penetrated the endless black.Amidst dead trees and rocky grounds stood a huge brick house built with careful gloom and precise misery.Through unrestricted windows on the ground floor, twelve figures cloaked in black stood in a dark --save for the hearth-- bare room to carry out a coven ritual. Two figures within a human circle of ten stood by a boiling cauldron filled with unknown liquids.Huddled in a corner of the room sat eight children, the glow from the hearth outlined their faces, all young faces varying with expressions of; confusion, attentiveness and intrigue.Seated between two young witches, or rather squashed between, was six years old Nadea, the flames from the fireplace outlined a young transfixed face with fragile features; a pert nose, little rosy lip
It was a known saying that the sound of children's voices were music to the ears.Perhaps the lovely soprano could be heard as Elise shrieked inhumanly as snow was shoved down her woolen trousers, maybe the undertones leading to the mounting crescendo was visualised as Braille gathered heaps of snow that increased with each patch.Perhaps the caesura came to abruption when the snow reached its pudgy aim and said aim let out a deafening shriek.Perhaps the--perhaps Nadea had finally had enough."Stop!" She ordered. Eight pairs of guileless eyes centered on her."Now," she continued, "off you go to Elder Zelda."She waited till the last child had rounded the corner before letting out a deflating sigh.Who said charity was easy? She mused, helping Zelda watch over the witchlings was no task for a weakling.The old Elder was everything one would expect a witch to look like; a hunc
Making her way through familiar rocky paths and wilted trees ladened with snow, but never quite leaving the coven grounds, she finally came across her haven.A glaring contrast to the dead trees and dried grounds, her little garden bloomed with life and greenry. From where she was, she could smell the delightful mix of fragrance.Nearing the garden, an array of heady floral scents wafted through her nose, small evergreen topiaries greeted her sights, yellow daffodils and red petunias a beautiful contrast.Going over to the wooden bench on the small lawn, she sat and absently watched as furry little birds fluttered round the flowers.A peaceful sigh escaped her lips, all her creation.She didn't know how long she sat like that, inhaling the fragrant air and watching the beautiful vitality of natureBefore she died, h
The next day came with rays of sunlight pouring through the windows and burning at her eye lids, it came with birds chirping melodiously. Noise.And it also came with head witch Astra's unholy shrill voice, which pierced through the sweet lull clouding her ears, if the catastrophic voice didn't scatter her eardrums, then the pounding on the door would."Nadea! Wake up this instant!"That did it! She rushed to her feet and headed for the door, then.... Then with a ferocious swivel she took a precised right turn towards the bath that was already filled up by an eunuch.Then she proceeded to wash and rinse off precipitately. But no matter how much she tried, she dozed off a few times.Breakfast, as it was. Was ruled,forthwith, out of option, as headmistress Allegra bundled them all outside to wait beside a large worn coach.While their trunks
The throne room, just like the grand hall, was anything but warm, walls of pure ice and windows covered with dark pleated drapes stretched to high vaulted ceilings, connecting to archways and fluted columns.Furnitures were meted out in pale shades around the room.And it was just her luck --which was often bad-- that they were having a meeting.Beneath the ice throne where the king sat, were ice aristocrats.Immediately, she fell into a deep curtsy, she was surprised she didn't topple over her feet."Rise!"She rose to meet the King's unfriendly scrutiny. For a moment, she stood there dumbly, quaking in her boots."I." She finally spoke up. "Have come to make a personal request,
The next day didn't come with head witch Astra's shrill voice, neither did it bring with it Meredith's annoying spells or the disastrous shrieks of witchlings.It came with cold, fresh wintery air and a gentle waking from Marah, followed by a hot bath in jasmine scented water.Then she stood still as Marah fussed over her, muttering about befitting gowns and going on and on about coifs and fastenings.The only time Dea moved was to stop the enthusiastic maid from giving her an updo, and instead requested for a bonnet to cover her hair--which Marah had surreptitiously ignored.Immediately frantic fingers stilled, Marah looked at Dea's hair like it was made of twigs and molasses. She heard faint snorts of laughter from Imogen.While Marah sputtered, "bu-but... You needn't wear a bonnet to breakfast when you can powder your hair."Dea was already shaking her head before Marah was done. "I'm af