Nae woke up later than she would have liked. Rays of persistent sunlight squeezed between the rose petals to illuminate her small bedroom, and also to illuminate the hefty form of Mutt, asleep on her feet.

No wonder I can’t feel them! She tried in vain to shift his bulk, but he rolled an indolent eye and huffed grumpily. It took a colossal push from Nae’s bony legs to move him from the bed and onto the hard floor, where he righted himself and gave her a look.

Ignoring him, she padded downstairs to find the house empty. Her mother had already left, no doubt to forage for random things in the forest. On the table, some sliced bread and cheese, with some freshly-picked berries. Another apology. Nae shared a leisurely breakfast on the sunlit grass, occasionally throwing chunks of break to her unwelcome chaperone. Tummy full, she sighed and led back, gazing up at the endless blue sky.

When I forget about the village, about my mother’s secrets and about my own useless self, it’s really not a bad life, I guess.

Mutt grumbled in his sleep, almost in agreement.

She couldn’t lay all day in the warmth of the sun, there was a job to do. Twenty minutes later, she walked down the path from the cottage, a cloth bag swung across one shoulder.

“I think a nice piece of fish will do for tea tonight, don’t you, Mutt?”

Three years ago, Nae had spent a whole day painstakingly helping her mother make a net. They wove thin strands of nettle-hemp together and sipped many cups of herb tea before the lumpy abomination of a thing was finished. Nae’s mother showed her how to weigh it down in the nearby canal, and explained that it would need to be left for a while so that fish would become trapped.

The first time they ate fresh-caught trout, cooked with garlic and herbs was one of Nae’s best memories. They enjoyed the meal out under the summer stars, and mum had told her tales of ancient heroes, of lovers and demons, her eyes alight and animated, her scarred face turned beautiful in the soft firelight. Sion’s words painted pictures of a world where good triumphed over evil.

“Can i be a hero, someday mum?”

“You can be a hero every day here, helping me.”

Even then, Nae knew when a question was being dodged.

The next day, she felt moody and frustrated, not entirely knowing the reason why. She snatched up the net, and snuck out of the cottage to the canal. The thing is though, a net is easy to set up when you have two very good, working arms. Nae couldn’t do it, with just her one. Frustration made her clumsy and careless, and the hemp string slipped from her hand, floating away on the current. She sat there for a good long while after, head tucked Into her knees, crying hot, angry tears.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

She didn’t notice Mutt barking a warning. She didn’t notice the old man, who had watched her whole mishap from the little jetty further down the canal. He knew who the witch’s daughter was, and why the village hated them. But sitting there, on the canal edge with his rod, all he saw was a lonely, angry little girl. He sat chewing some pungent tobacco, and he thought for a good long while after Sion’s daughter had stomped away into the forest.

The witch came to town the next week, with a potion for old Anne Sotherby, the Miller’s ma. Trailing sullenly behind her was a small girl, and a large, black dog. They walked past the inn, where Lessa, innkeeper’s wife, spat vile abuse from the doorway. Her husband, carrying a tray of ‘best’ ale, saw the pair do their best to ignore the hateful words. Ralleck had spent his whole life conforming- he had been a model soldier, he was a dutiful husband and a pillar of respect in the village. But, watching the spittle run down his wife’s face as she debased the mother and child, didn’t feel right. The small notion that had crept into his mind on the riverbank the other day took seed, and he grinned.

Dusk came to the village, as Sion and Nae passed back along the dirt road. The Miller had been grateful enough to leave them a loaf of fresh, crusty bread in exchange roll for the little vial that took away some of his mother’s pain. Even the sight of the inn, and the resulting dread of abuse wasn’t quite enough to dampen their spirits. As they passed the doorway, a man that Sion recognised as the the husband of their regular tormentor appeared, with a strange look to his face.

“Ignore it,” Sion muttered to Nae, as they saw him hesitantly beckon them from the front step. He looked over his shoulder every few seconds, as if a devil was after him. I’d look like that too, with her for a wife.

“He’s holding something out, mum look!”

“It’s probably just a trick. Nae….No!”

Of course, Nae had not listened. It was rare that someone threw them a morsel of kindness. Ralleck was indeed, holding out a long, lumpy looking thing, wrapped in what seemed like and old tablecloth from the inn. Nae’s curiosity had gotten the better of her. The old man smiled, and the little girl grinned in return, as he handed her the bundle.

“For you,” he whispered and quickly disappeared back into the dim, noisy room behind him.

Nae scampered to the safety of her mother and Mutt, feeling her heart thudding away. It had been wrong not to listen to her mum, she knew that. The silence was frosty between them all the way home, but it was worth it when, upon unwrapping the bundle on the kitchen table, she discovered a fine, wooden fishing rod. Nae was whirling it excitedly around the room, when Sion noticed a little scrap of paper flutter to the floor. There were a few hastily-scrawled sentences written in what looked like charcoal.

This one be bettr for you. Only won hande need to pull back wen you feel the fishe. Don’t tell wife pls.

Yours,

Ralleck

It had worked, a lot better for Nae. The first time she ventured down to the canal, she had caught a tiny salmon. They ate the meagre little thing for supper that night, but it had felt like a meal fit for kings for Nae.

Sometimes, she would see Ralleck, sitting on the river’s edge, and he would give her a little nod. As the years went by, they progressed enough to share lunch together, and sit side-by-side enjoying the peace of the river. He rarely spoke, but it was enough for Nae to enjoy the comraderie of another human being. It was simple. Probably the only thing in her life that was.

After this, Nae noticed that, while the villagers still treated her mother like a bomb that might explode any minute, they mellowed slightly towards her. Unbeknownst to her, was the fact that the old innkeeper dropped small comments to the patrons of his establishment every now and then. Things that reminded them that the child was harmless, magic-less and had not chosen to be boen to a witch. The fact that mother and child seemed outwardly distant also helped solidify these thoughts.