The first thing to return was her sense of smell, and how could it not with how assaulted her nose was. It was as though every single possible combination of smells were trying to fight their way into her nose, creating an odd sensation of an odor that was both pleasant and mildly rotten at the same time. The only smell that she could really pick out of the lot was a smokey one, the kind from the logs that she would place on Oriona’s fireplace to both warm the room and fill it with a pleasant aroma.

What were those logs called?

Pain and hunger returned to her with as much if not more force than her sense of smell. Parts of her head she normally didn’t even think about were screaming at her, while her stomach was trying to outdo them with how much the hunger hurt. Or wait. Was that hunger? Or was it actually just normal pain.

Both?

Both felt like a good answer.

Why was she like this again? She had gone out to find the healer, the one that people were calling the Witch in The Woods, and after days of searching, she finally got a butcher to tell her where she lived. She had rushed into the woods riding someone’s sprig she had borrowed and—

The pain doubled and Roxie finally remembered what had happened. The cat-thing, the one with the horns and the claws, and the girl! The girl in the woods! Was she the witch? She didn’t get a good look at her. But it was a girl in the woods, so it seemed right.

But then where was she now?

With a grunt, Roxie opened her eyes.

The first thing she saw was the fire. Its light was a soft purple that cracked into brilliant blues and filled the room with an eerie, almost evil looking light that seemed to creep and crawl along the walls. The fire itself was located in the middle of a smallish round room that wouldn’t take her more than four steps to cross. Plants of all kinds hung from planters in the room, each one seeming to glow in its own way and giving off a strange vibe that made her stomach twist in even more pain.

Wait, no, that was normal pain.

Books seemed to line the walls to the point that one wall might as well be nothing but books. A large shelf seemed to serve the function as both table and desk, lit by a single candle. Plants and mushrooms of all sizes were scattered around the desk, alongside those things that doctors use to make medicine, even the glass tube looking things. And that bowl and flat thing.

A grunt of pain echoed throughout the room.

But this one didn’t come from Roxie.

She sat up to get a better look, despite the pain in her stomach.

“Oi!” The other voice said again. The sound of a bucket sliding along the ground followed by a stool falling over followed soon after as she stood up.

Of all the things to notice first was the fact that the Witch of the Woods was topless. Her skin was pale and glistened in the blue light. Along her slender waist, just below the curve of her breasts, was an odd-colored patch of skin that looked like it had been slapped on like some kind of balm. Just above that was a still-fresh wound where a thread and needle tangled helplessly.

“Lay back down!” the Witch commanded. Her purple eyes glowed brighter than the fire and made Roxie feel like she wasn’t the biggest person around. Indeed, for the first time in a long time, she felt small, small like when she had been forced to sit in the corner. The witch gave an annoyed huff and placed a hand on her hip, only to wince in pain.

“Are you the Witch?” Roxie asked. The command had registered, but for whatever reason, she couldn’t quite remember how to lay down. It was like when she had to think about breathing but the opposite.

“Yes.” The Witch rolled her eyes and took the two steps towards Roxie, then placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her downward. Compared to Roxie, the Witch was small, perhaps smaller than Oriana, well maybe not in all the ways. “And if you undo my stitching, I’m going to turn you into a frog.”

“I need your help.”

“You need rest!” The Witch snapped back. “Seriously, you took on a Tri-horn and we’re both alive to tell the tale. Whatever it is can wait.”

“But,” Roxie attempted to sit up again, but the Witch’s glare stopped her. Was this magic? No, it was the same kind of look a mother would give a child. “Can we at least talk?”

The Witch stared at her for a moment, before she let out a breath that was somewhere between a huff and a sigh. The Witch turned away from her, revealing a few more of the bandages on her back, and one on her upper arm. “It’d be better if you just slept.”

“I’m—”

“I’m sure you think that you’re tough, hell, I think you’re tough and I just met you, but my medicine needs time to work, and you have a concussion.”

“What’s that?”

“Head injury.”

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“I have a hard head.”

Why did she say that?

“Just let me finish fixing myself first.” The Witch tipped the stool back over and moved her bucket once more. “I’m almost done.”

Roxie nodded and then—

The door opened and the Witch came walking in fully clothed. Her hood was up, forcing her reddish hair out, framing her face. A bundle of logs was under one arm while the other was carrying two large covered baskets that looked like the contents were glowing the entire rainbow.

“Oh,” The witch said with a smile that was made of pure smugness. “You’re awake.”

The fire was still glowing, but was now the normal oranges and yellows a fire normally was, and the early morning light filtered through the door almost as if it was trying to chase the witch.

“I was asleep?” Roxie asked. Her body ached like she had been training far too hard again. She became aware of many more things this time than she had before. First was the blanket that she had been using, that served as her only form of clothing. The next was the several slightly green colored patches that were attached to her sides. “Where’s my armor? My sword? Where am I even? Did you cast a spell on me?”

“There,” The witch nodded towards a bundled pile of stuff next to the bed. She then pointed in a seemingly random direction with her nose and chin. “Where you left it, since I couldn’t get it out of the tree and you were heavy enough as is.” The Witch placed down what she was holding and gestured towards the room. “This is my home. And no, you just started snoring.”

“Oh.” Roxie felt her shoulders slump. She took in a deep breath, one that felt odd thanks to the patches on her skin. She touched one tentatively, and while it felt tense, it certainly didn’t hurt as much as she remembered.

“You can take those off, by the way.” The Witch began to put the items away. They appeared to be mushrooms and fruits that changed colors when the shadows touched them. Some were placed in dark containers that gave a heavy thud when closed, others were placed along the planters that hung from nearly every spot in the room.

Roxie examined the patches along her skin and ran her thumb over the strange, kind of slimy material. Her fingernail was just a bit too short to really dig under the patch, and it seemed to move with her skin as though it was a part of her skin. Eventually, thanks to the callouses along her fingers, she was able to rub off one corner just enough to pinch it. As she pulled the patch, it hurt a lot.

So she yanked it and let out a small yelp. Body blows from training, getting kicked by a sprigs, and whatever other manner of abuse she had put her body through did not prepare her for that kind of pain.

The Witch let out a small chuckle, and even if her back was turned, Roxie knew it was directed towards her.

With an ever so slightly wounded pride, Roxie examined where the patch had been. The skin there was far lighter than the skin around it; the contrast was similar to how pale her palms were compared to the tops. A clean line from where the beast had likely gotten her was even paler, almost pink even, but the wound looked like it had already turned into a scar.

Roxie continued the motion for the next two patches. The one on her upper right arm was especially annoying.

“Here.” The Witch presented her with a horn decorated with wood so that it had a handle. Its contents were steaming. “Drink this.”

Roxie accepted the strange cup and stared at it for a moment. “What’s it do?”

“Make you not thirsty.” The Witch drank from her own mug, far plainer than the horn Roxie now held. “It's tea.”

“Oh.” Oriana loved tea. Roxie? Not so much. It just tasted far too…fancy for her. But the sweet aroma combined with her rapidly drying tongue made her take a first sip. It was sweet. No, spicy. No, sour, wait, it was crunchy?

Either way, it tasted pretty good.

“Now then.” The Witch pulled the stool over to the bed with her foot and sat down, a soft smile on her face as she took a sip of her own drink. “First of all, thanks for saving me. Tri-horns normally don’t prowl the forest, especially so late at night. So, for that reason, I’m willing to hear you out.”

A laugh escaped her. “I save you, and that’s all I get?”

“Hmmm, pretty sure I could have just let you bleed out in the forest.” The Witch crossed her legs and managed to give the smuggest look possible while drinking her tea. “Thought about it a couple times too; you’re not a small person.”

Roxie opened her mouth to protest, but stopped herself. She really didn’t have anything to refute that fact. Still, it didn’t matter. She had reached her goal. She had found the Witch. “Witch, the reason why I’m here is—”

“Don’t call me that.” The Witch held up her hand.

“Then, what should I call you.”

“Sera, that’s my name. And you are?”

“Roxanne Brightshield.” The pride of her last name swelled throughout her body. Unlike the name she had been given, Brightshield had been earned.

“Alright then, Roxie.”

How did The Wi—Sera know her nickname?

“Why on earth were you riding a sprig through a magical forest, so close to the night of a full moon?” Sera’s eyebrow was raised dangerously high, and her purple eyes seemed to flash with power. Aside from the odd color of her eyes and how her ears ended in two long, sharp points, Sera looked remarkably more human than Rxoie would have thought.

Younger and prettier, too.

Sure, the villagers had said that the Witch of the Woods was youthful, but, Roxie had just thought that she’d be old, with a large nose, and a cat.

With a small breath, Roxie gathered her thoughts and focused on her mission. Even if it wasn’t really a mission, more a desperate effort to fix a slow creeping doom. “I am Princess Oriana’s personal guard. It is my duty to protect her at all costs, and to do what she commands of me.”

“Sounds like a hard thing to do in the middle of a magical forest.”

That stung.

“I know.” Roxie gripped the blanket that was still covering her legs and bit her lip. “But, I need your help. Oriana, she’s sick, and, and, I can’t do anything about it.”

“What’s wrong with her?” The mild hint of mirth that had been in Sera’s voice vanished, and her brows furrowed.

“She’s been like this for years. She gets fatigued easily, especially in the sun. It’s worse in the summer, but she can’t stand the cold either, and it's getting worse every year. But she’s normally a very energetic person. And—” Roxie swallowed her breath and bit the inside of her cheek.

“I’m going to need to know everything if I’m going to know if I can save her.”

“But!” Roxie protested. “I don’t know this stuff! I’m not a doctor, but I know that Princess Oriana is sick, and I hope that you can save her.”

She shifted on the bed and faced Sera fully. She slipped from the bed and got on her knees. Her hands touched the rough stone floor, followed by her elbows and then her forehead. “Please, I’m begging you. Please come to the castle and make Oriana better.”

Tears streamed from her face and she let out a sob. “Please, she means everything to me.”

“Sheesh,” the sound of Sera’s stool sliding back as she stood did not shake Roxie, and she kept her head planted firmly where it was. She could win battles, fight bandits, take on whatever threat she needed to. Begging was not something she had ever wanted to do again. But Oriana wasn’t simply just a bite of bread.

She was so much more.

“Please,” Roxie pleaded once more.

“Are you sure?” Sera asked, the sound of her shuffling feet rumbling along the ground. “Last I checked, magic was hated and feared, and you are asking someone that’s called the Witch of the Woods to heal your princess.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’ll do anything, please.”

Sera took in a deep breath. “Fine.”

Roxie snapped her head up and looked up at Sera through tearful eyes. Her pale cheeks were practically aflame with her intense blush, while the tips of her ears were a shade of red that seemed to shine. “Really?”

“Yes, fine, but!” Sera stomped her foot and held up a finger. “I want something in return.”

“What is it? I’ll do anything!” Roxie scrambled to her feet.

“Books, the castle has a big library right? I want full access to it, even if there’s some forbidden section,”

They didn’t have a forbidden section, at least not that Roxie knew. Then again, she barely knew how to read despite Oriana’s efforts.

“And! I want a big proper meal, one that’s cooked by chefs and has lots of tasty food.”

“Sure!” Roxie said. Her smile had already grown so large it hurt her face. She was sure that Oriana’s brother’s would be happy to give that in exchange for her sister's health.

Probably.