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Bewitched
Witch Rapist

Witch Rapist

Jemedar sat by the hearth in his cottage with his wife Tira and his sister Mylar.

"I do wish that party could have gone better," said Mylar. "But you two are such a lovely couple. I realise that now. Still… Tira, being a Coltbridge housewife isn't always easy, even for ladies who grow up here."

Tira gazed at Mylar wide blue eyes. The flickering firelight shone off her green nose and cheeks. "I'll learn. You'll see. I'll learn."

Jemmy put his arm around the witch's shoulders. "Tira is more than equal to the challenge. I have complete confidence in her."

Tira smiled and then made a kissy face and nuzzled his cheek.

"You'll have to learn to cook and keep house, Tira," said Mylar. "Just like me. Homemaking skills are considered to be essential for Coltbridge girls to learn. Even household accounts. I had to learn. My suitors all expect nothing less of me."

Tira grinned at her. "You're so lovely. The suitors must be queuing up around the block to see you."

Mylar tapped her freckled nose. "I'm torn. There are three young gentlemen I have a strong interest in. Tom, Dick and Harry. Tom moves in the most affluent circles, but Harry I have known since we were little and he'll always hold a special place in my heart."

"Love is more important than money," said Tira.

"And then there's Dick, let's not forget," said Mylar. "He has a manly… hose…" Her cheeks flushed pink.

Tira gazed at her and put her hands to her green cheeks. "Uh… well…"

"Really, Mylar? Can't you leave the coarseness to Gloom?" said Jemmy.

Tira smiled and touched Mylar's arm. "I enjoy doing it with Jemmy more than any other guys I've ever done it with. It's cos I love him. You enjoy it most with the one you love most."

Jemmy felt a warm glow inside.

At that moment, there was a ripple of shadow and Gloom appeared on the ceiling.

"Jemedar will never have to think, 'the grass is greener on the other side,'" said the imp in his reedy voice.

"That's right, Gloom," said Jemmy. "I have the sweetest and the greenest wife for miles around, and I'm proud."

"C'mere, Hero," said Tira, using the nickname that meant she wanted to kiss him.

"Alright, Sweet Pea," said Jemmy, using the nickname that referred to Tira's greenness and sweetness.

They locked their lips together.

"This really looks like something private," said Gloom.

When they broke apart, Tira was breathing hard, and if she were not green, her shiny green cheeks would most likely have been flushed pink. "I know I gotta learn to be a housewife, but I've also gotta make money," she said. "And I have to get ready to be a mother. I can do both at once. I can make toys that move and be really cute. I'll sell them in the marketplace. I wanna learn to knit too, so I can make little baby clothes."

"I'll teach you how to knit, lovely," said Mylar.

"Hey, thanks!" said Tira. "I can make the toys now and set up a stall in the marketplace tomorrow."

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00O00

The next morning, Tira set up stall in the marketplace while Jemmy went to work as a scribe. She had a display of toys which could all move by magic.

It was a sunny day and the twitter of the birds mingled with the rushing of the river Colt nearby.

A lady with a little boy stopped by.

"Hello!" said Tira. She beamed at the boy. "How'd you like a cutesy-wootsie little animal?" She picked up a fluffy toy owl. "This is Owl Jolson and he is the most adorable little bundle of fluff."

"What's he do?" demanded the boy.

Tira ruffled Owl Jolson's feathers and he gave a tiny twit twoo.

The witch giggled. "Aw. He's hooting. And look at that face." She pointed at the owl's face. She had made it to look like an owl chick she had actually seen that looked like it was laughing. "Isn't that the happiest little face you ever saw?"

The little boy pointed at the toy lion. "What's he do?"

"Ooh! He's a fierce lion. Rawr!" said Tira. She poked the lion and it gave a little growl.

"That's more like it," said the boy.

"I've got toys for any type of itch you wanna scratch," Tira assured him.

"Why do you not talk properly?" said the little boy.

Tira smiled at him. "I'm new to Coltbridge, but I wanna learn. I'm gonna be a mommy, after all." She put a hand to her belly.

"Congratulations," said the boy's mother, looking at Tira's hand. Was she checking out Tira's wedding ring? Tira lifted up her hand. I got married to this really great guy who's a warrior from Coltbridge."

"Marriage to the right man is important for a girl's happiness," said the Coltbridge lady. "From one mother to another, I wish you a prosperity and a happy home life."

Tira realised that a group of people in the market had turned to stare at her. She smiled uneasily. "When people turn and stare at you…! Hello!"

The mother laughed. "You stand out. That beauty. That yellow hair and that green face."

"I'm a witch," said Tira. "My skin's green cos of my magic."

"Good to know," said the lady. "You have your eye on the lion, Alfie?"

"Yes, I dooo," said Alfie.

After the mother had bought the lion and departed, Gloom appeared on Tira's shoulder.

"How's business?" he asked.

"I just made my first sale," said Tira proudly.

"Well watch out," said Gloom. "Shayna approaches."

Tira looked and saw the black haired lady was advancing towards them through the marketplace.

In case you still hadn't realised, she is Jemmy's old flame and she definitely has a grudge against you for winning his hand."

"Oh really, Gloom," said Tira. "I'm sure Shayna doesn't hold a grudge against me. And please don't be rude to her this time."

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Shayna arrived at Tira's toy stall. She was smiling, but Tira thought her smile looked kind of strained.

"Why, Tira. How good it is to see you again, how good."

"Heyy," said Tira grinning. Then she remembered the stuff she knew about Coltbridge etiquette and awkwardly tried to curtsey. "Well met, lady."

Shayna clasped her hands together. "Charming. And what a charming stall you have here."

"I'm selling toys," said Tira. "Um… Would you like to buy one?"

"I have no child to call my own," said Shayna coolly. "And is this business the way you mean to support Jemmy?"

"Other ladies could offer Jemmy more wealth, it's true," said Gloom. "But he has chosen Tira. But look…" The imp pointed a claw towards the river. A little dark-haired child was playing near the river bank and now he slipped and fell into the rushing waters!

Tira gave a cry and leapt forward, running flat out towards the river bank. She didn't have time to deliberate. She had to try a binding spell to make invisible fetters to drag the toddler back.

She made the hand gestures for the spell and cast the magical chains forth, hooking them around the child as he floundered in the rushing water. Tira dug her heels into the ground, feeling a cold sweat break out on her brow. Then she let her magic power flow through her fingers and used it to tug the fetters back, pulling the boy out of the water, through the rushes and up the bank.

She knelt beside him. "Are you OK?" she cupped his face in her hands.

The kid stared at her. "Why're you green?"

Tira sighed in relief. He was OK.

A silence had fallen in the marketplace.

"Witchcraft!" someone shouted.

Then Tira recognised the voice of Alfie's mother. "That is indeed how the brave girl saved that child. What kind of fanatic are you, that you condemn magic even when it is used for noble ends?"

Tira led the child back to the marketplace where his mother gathered him up in her arms. A small crowd surrounded Tira and congratulated her. One of them gave her a silver coin.

"See this, Shayna?" said Gloom in his reedy voice. "A witch's magic has unlimited potential. With barely any training, my Mistress can perform feats of great heroism. If she were ambitious, the sky would be the limit."

"Um… Gloom…" Tira wasn't sure how to tell him off. And she thought over what he said. If she improved at magic, she could do a lot more good, like she had just done.

"You would need a veteran witch to let you realise your full potential," said Gloom. "And remember that you were uncommonly suited to magic. The discipline is nothing like sewing or accounting."

"I wanna help people," said Tira. "I think I oughta find a good witch to help me. Everyone, I wanna do all I can to help all of you from now on, but I have to find help."

Shayna was narrowing her eyes at Tira for some reason.

"It can be done quite simply," said Gloom. "Focus on the kind of mentor you desire and repeat these words after me:"

"Standing here 'til noon, my civic duty binds me.

I refer myself to you, good hearted Madam find me."

Tira repeated the words. Afterwards, she felt strangely tired, like she always did when she had expended a considerable amount of magic. The poem was clearly a spell.

"A musical accent," said one of the crowd.

"A lot of palindromes in that poem," said another.

"Now you wait," said Gloom.

"Ah, OK. Thanks Gloom," said Tira.

She went back to her stall. Her toys began to sell more quickly after that, and as the noonday sun blazed overhead, she sold the last one.

Tira rubbed her stomach. "My tummy! Man, I'm so hungry. How long's it been since breakfast?" She touched her belly. "You're hungry too, my baby?"

The lady at the pie stall had started to yell. "Fine pies for Noontime! For pies that you will long for later on, come on!"

Tira went over to the stall. The vendor had a little girl with her. Tira beamed at them both.

Gloom appeared on the witch's shoulder. "You're sure you've figured out the money here in Coltbridge?"

"Special deal today!" said the vendor. "One meat pie for one Plate! Meaty and filling!"

Tira smiled. "Sounds good! I'm eating for two after all." She put a hand to her belly.

"Oh, congratulations," said the vendor, looking at the wedding ring on Tira's finger. "You'll make a fine mother, M'Lady."

Tira took a large speculum coin from the pouch at her belt. "The Plates are the speculum coins that look like little mirrors. Um, there are ten Copper Commons to one Plate, right?"

"This is accounting 101, Mistress," said Gloom. "Be sure you know how to buy a pie."

"And there are ten speculum coins to one Silver Chalice. That's the silver coin," said Tira, fingering the silver coin she had been given earlier.

"Yes, M'Lady," said the vendor. "And ten Silver Chalices to one Gold Orb."

"Coltbridge must have decimalised its currency quite recently," said Gloom. "The coins all look new."

Tira gave the vendor a heavy speculum piece and her daughter smiled and handed the witch a hot pie. Tira ate it ravenously, but she was still hungry.

"I'd love something sweet n' sour. Anything with pickles and jelly?"

"Jelly?" said the vendor.

"She means jam," squeaked Gloom.

"Tilly, be inventive," said the vendor to her daughter. "Make something like the lady says."

Tilly made a concoction of pickles and strawberry jam in a pie crust.

"New invention. That is a custom made pie, that is," said the vendor. "It's what the customer wants that's important, but it costs extra. Costs two plates."

"You're very clever," said Tira, smiling at Tilly as she took the pie.

Tilly murmured thanks, then she wrinkled her nose. Tira became aware that she was sweating in the noonday sun. "Uh oh. I'm not stinky, am I?"

Tilly gave a strained smile. "No M'Lady, not at all M'Lady."

"You smell sweet as a rose," said the vendor gravely.

When Tira bit into the pie, a gentleman in green livery came up to the stall. "Young lady with the green face?" he said.

"Who could that be?" said Gloom. He pointed at Tilly. "She doesn't look very green."

"That's me," said Tira. She smiled and sheepishly realised she had jam around her mouth.

"The Lord Mayor extends an invitation to an eventide gathering in recognition of your heroism today," said the messenger.

"Just today?" said Gloom. "Today she stopped that toddler drowning. Seems like only yesterday she struck down the Infernal Beast."

The messenger handed Tira a small scroll. "Thank you so much," said Tira.

She examined the scroll. The invitation said she could bring two people. She knew she wanted to bring Jemmy and Mylar.

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00O00

The evening of the party came. The sun had set and the night air was cool and balmy.

"Nice and cool," said Tira. "I'm not sweating now."

"I could get used to your sweat. Everyone else should," said Jemmy. "Least they could do - show appreciation for a magical hero."

Tira chuckled and touched his freckled nose with one finger. "I always liked your sweat though. It's like you sweat roses." She puckered her paintedlips and blew him a kiss.

Mylar had helped Tira with her makeup again, although this time she wanted to see if purple rouge and lipstick would work better on the witch's green face.

Tira was holding Jemmy's hand and looked around, blue eyes bright with interest. The musicians were standing in a corner and refrains of music wafted through the evening air. The hubbub of the nobility mingled with the scraping of chairs. The light of tame fairies cast light over the array of tables and an ornate fountain in the shape of a water nymph.

"So kind of you to invite me, as one of your two guests, Tira," said Mylar.

"You're family," said Tira grinning. "You're my baby's auntie."

At that moment, there was a murmuring from the guests. Mylar looked up and saw a lady with long red hair and bright green skin circling above their heads. She was straddling a broomstick. A witch like Tira then. Mylar felt uneasy. Not all witches were sweethearts. What did this one want?

Gloom appeared. "My Mistress summoned a good witch to help her do good… It looks like this do- gooder witch just can't wait 'til this do is over. Shows enthusiasm."

"If she's a good witch like Tira, that's fine," said Mylar, feeling some relief wash over her.

The witch alighted on the patio. "Sorry, everyone," she said. Her voice was low and husky for a woman's. "Witchy business. Don't mind me."

She turned to Tira and brushed her long red hair away from her face. "Hey, I'm Anna. I heard your call. I want to help you."

Tira squeaked and hugged Anna. "Oh, thank you, thank you. I really need a good witch to help me with my magic."

Anna smiled. "I knew it. You don't need my relationship advice. You already have a handsome husband. I think most witches are green with envy."

"You can take a joke at your own expense. Good," said Gloom.

Anna allowed Jemmy to kiss her hand in the Coltbridge style of greeting a lady.

"Now I should warn you, if my philosophy to do good is not for you, then you won't like me or my teachings," said Anna.

"I only wanna do good," said Tira.

"That's great," said Anna. "Selfish witches reject my teachings and they take their anger out on men. That's no good at all, picking on the weaker sex."

"Why can't men be witches?" asked Mylar. Tira had not known the answer to this question.

"Women, we're super intuitive and guys are not," said Anna. "The emotional centre of our brain is eight times larger and emotion helps fuel our magic power."

"Eight times larger? How did you measure that?" asked Gloom. "Are you suggesting I have one eighth of your emotional range?"

Wonders that evening did not cease. Suddenly there was a terrible cackling noise, and a flash of light, causing the guests to gasp and point upwards.

Another witch on a broom circled high above them. She had dirty blond hair and a large, beak like nose. She was glaring down at Jemmy with a peculiar intensity.

"Oh no," said Tira. "Oh no…"

"It's the Bedlam Hag," said Gloom. "Millie, wasn't it? She's addled in the head. Wanted to grab Jemmy in her arms and abduct him, and yet didn't want to abduct me!"

"You didn't invite me. So I crashed!" called Millie.

"The only way you could get to a party," called Gloom.

Millie glared at him. "Wow, it's the annoying little imp. I never wanted to hear your puling squeaks again."

Then the hag turned and looked hungrily at Jemmy. "Didn't I say I would come for you, hot stuff? I am the greatest witch here and no one can stop me!"