Aalis retrieved her water bags where she’d dropped them and draped them in the stream’s flow. As she waited for them to fill with water, she pushed back her hood, exposing her white/grey dreadlocks and sighed. Deception was not something she was comfortable with but given the alternative…

When the water bags were full to bursting she scooped them out of the stream, clutching at their ties, ready to make the trek back to her home.

“The fake blood kind of let you down.” She froze, her heart fluttering in fear at the voice that spoke behind her. “I mean, not that everyone would pick up on it…but I’ve been around my fair share of blood and all of it turns my stomach.” She turned stiffly, her eyes cast to the ground. A pair of boots entered her shamed line of sight. “Once I stopped being afraid enough to realise one thing was fake…” She closed her eyes, embarrassed beyond all measure. “There is no witch, is there?”

Aalis smiled sadly and lifted her head. “I am the witch.”

The young man who had so valiantly promised to take her away with him after confronting the demonic witch, Dragoslava, gazed at her with an understandable amount of scepticism.

“You’re the witch?” He said dryly.

Aalis shrugged and nodded. “I am Dragoslava.”

Judd studied her. “In Astaril, once a year we have the Maul festival where the dangers of the south are put on display, grotesque images of creatures I can’t even begin to fathom painted on canvas so lifelike they gave me nightmares…and you look nothing like any of them.”

Aalis didn’t doubt that. “Appearances can be deceiving.” She said quietly.

Leaves rustled softly in the silence that extended between them.

Judd struggled to find the words to say and Aalis offered nothing more.

“So…it was all a lie?”

Aalis’ cheeks flamed with colour. “No, not all of it.”

“What was true?”

She sighed and began to walk the path towards the two dead trees, Judd falling into step with her.

“Dragoslava did exist before me. She found me when I was lost and brought me here.” Aalis was surprised when Judd took some of the water bags from her hands and slung them over his shoulder. “She was quite old and needed to be looked after and I…had nowhere else to go.”

“No home to return to?”

Aalis shook her head. “She was a bitter old woman, shunned most of her life but she was kind in her own way.”

“By tormenting the village?”

Aalis laughed softly as they passed the two dead trees and entered the tunnel decorated with animal skulls and tattered lengths of fabric that had convinced Judd that he had been trapped within spider’s webs.

“She did not torment anyone. She lived in the forest and knew herbal remedies and practiced healing salves…she was so very knowledgeable about botany, from the roots of every plant to the tips of their leaves, the medicinal or danger of their flowers…to the very core of the trunks of trees. And she shared that knowledge with me.”

Judd thought about this for a moment. “So…why was she here? Why did she or others call herself a witch?”

Aalis paused, her eyes sad. “Because…she was touched. From the little I gleaned from her before she died, she used to live much further south and when she was a child, she stumbled through a stream that was tainted. Her nails blistered and blackened and her eyes became yellow…”

“That’s what the witches of the Maul Festival looked like.” Judd admitted.

Aalis’ lavender eyes were sad. “She might not have had the most cheery disposition…but she did not deserve to maligned as a witch because of an accident when she was young.”

Judd was so distracted by the tale that he nearly stepped into the puddle of ‘blood’ that had tipped his fear over the edge into full blown hysteria. Aalis drew him around its edge and they continued to where there were branches shaped like hands reaching into the tunnel. Judd could imagine how they would have seemed like they were clawing him if he had made it past the blood puddle. But Aalis casually slipped past them and he did the same, marvelling at the lengths she had gone to. He reached out to touch the fingers of one of the branches and leapt back in fright as it jiggled, sending all the arms into a frantic, snatching frenzy.

His heart was pounding mightily but he looked at Aalis and she let go of a piece of string and the arms hung limply once more.

“That’s effective.” He said, willing his teeth to stop chattering. “The Maul Festival committee could learn a thing or two from you.” Aalis smiled and continued to walk. Judd left the clinging arms and fell into step with her. “The fake blood, the dead trees, the animal skulls, the grabbing branch hands…your rather dramatic and effective death, bravo by the way…”

“Thank you.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“It’s all just to keep people like me away?” He asked. Aalis nodded, her dreadlocks tumbling over her shoulders as they entered an open clearing that backed onto a slab of rock, part of the mountains that made reaching the very north of Terra impossible. In the rockface was a cave and a hut of sticks, mud and thatch had been built onto its mouth. There was a fire with a pot sitting over it. As Aalis hung the water bags from a peg, Judd sniffed the contents of the pot. Not a green and purple magical brew used to curse and poison…but a normal stew with carrots, potatoes and possibly some rabbit.

“You can have some if you like.” Aalis offered.

“Oh, that’s okay.” Judd backed away, more embarrassed by his nosiness than he was mortified at the thought of eating the brew of a witch. “So…if Dragoslava died…why are you still here? Why aren’t you in the village?”

Aalis opened a pouch and threw some herbs into the stew, giving it a vigorous stir. “I am not fond of populated areas and after living here for so long…it would have felt strange to leave.”

“Yeah but…everyone thinks you’re a witch…” Judd paused. “Wait, does Klin know the truth?” He groaned at Aalis’ smile and sank onto a log. “Why didn’t I pick up on it?!”

“Klin and I came up with the plan that, should anyone come looking for the witch Dragoslava, he would send word to me.”

“You meet the adventurous soul at the stream, lead them to the tunnel, die horribly…how did you do that?”

“Some fermented berries with an activator to stimulate the frothing. And I had a pouch of ‘blood’ in my pocket which I put on my fingers and ‘scratched’ my throat.”

Judd shook his head. “Well…I’ve been played for a complete fool, haven’t I?”

“No,” Aalis squatted next to him and he gave her a scathing look, “well…perhaps…” Judd groaned and put his face in his hands. “But I tell you the truth, you are the first to return.”

He grunted then peeked out from behind his hands. Aalis’ eyes were sincere and kind. “You know, for a witch, you’re awfully nice.” He muttered. “Is that why Klin and the rest of the village go along with the ruse?”

“I help them when I can.” Aalis admitted. “I can set a broken bone, treat fevers and I know a great deal about botany and how to help a harvest be plentiful…”

“So why not be the ‘healer’ of the woods?” Judd asked, sitting up. “Why continue in this dangerous farce of being a witch?”

“Because a woman living alone in the woods comes with a certain…presumed reputation.” Aalis replied. “Dragoslava was well known long before I assumed the role.”

They sat in silence, watching the flames dance and lick the bottom of the pot which was beginning to bubble, releasing a delicious aroma. Judd’s stomach grumbled. Without asking, Aalis dished some into a bowl for him. It was very tasty and Judd scraped the sides and bottom clean to enjoy every last drop. He looked over at Aalis who was kneeling at a low table, chopping herbs.

He wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. His training didn’t cover grey areas when it came to monster slaying. Women who were touched by the contamination of the south were known to develop strange abilities like being able to read minds, cause limbs to shrivel and die and one witch had kept an entire village under her thumb for nearly ten years because she could cause crops to die by merely speaking a curse over the fields. They also tended to have physical attributes like the blackening of nails and yellowing of eyes. Judd’s mandatory reading, which he struggled through during his training, told him that some witches had unnaturally hued hair, green and orange, blue and purple…

None of that rang true with Aalis. True she had dreadlocks that were unusually colourless for her age and her eyes were lavender…but she hardly looked like a witch. Then again, his training had also told him that he could not always trust his eyes when it came to the contamination of the south and the insidiousness of the monsters to even attempt to mimic human form if it served their purpose.

And she said she was the witch Dragoslava.

What human in their right mind would admit to being a target?

Those interested in collecting a bounty would happily drag her through the streets of Astaril, bound and gagged, to present her capture before King Rocheveron before being executed.

Was it possible that Aalis, perhaps not a witch, was not quite right in the head?

That would make her situation unfortunate but hardly worthy of death.

He blinked, a soft query bouncing off his distracted brain. “Sorry?”

“I asked if you enjoyed the stew?”

“Oh…very much so.” Judd stood up. “I should probably be going.” She nodded and stood, brushing down her skirt. “Thank you for the meal.”

“I thought I owed you at least that. I will walk you back to the village.”

The forest no longer intimidated him and Judd was astonished he’d been so frightened by the shadows and creaking branches. Perhaps it was not the friendliest of forests but it was hardly infested with evil.

“Have you had to fend off many knights,” Judd asked, “or young men wanting to be knights?”

“There was only one not long after Dragoslava died and I assumed her role,” Aalis admitted, “but recently there have been several young men coming to slay the witch.”

“Probably young men like myself trying to become a knight.” Judd mused. He caught her confused expression. “What is it?”

“Well,” she floundered, “I mean no offense but…are knights not meant to come from noble houses?”

Judd winced. “Is it that obvious?”

Aalis blushed. “No, I mean…yes…but not just you. The other young men also seemed…”

Judd saved her from having to say what he knew to be true.

“Common?” He shrugged and nodded. “I’m the eldest son of a middle class family…and when I say middle class, I mean if there was a ladder, we’re on the bottom rung. But eating fish is currently in fashion so our family have escalated from working class to middle, now that my father can employ others to do that which he learned from his father, who learned from his father…” He waved his hand, knowing the spiel off by heart, having heard it many times.

Aalis tucked a dreadlock behind her ear. “And that is not what you wanted?”

“I can’t stand the smell of fish.” Judd admitted. “It never goes away. I swear I could smell my hands now and get faint whiffs of salt water, scales and rust.”

“Rust?”

“I was never particularly good at cleaning my knives.” Judd cringed. “I always dreamed of becoming a knight but thought I was doomed to fish forever…then the heralds of King Rocheveron announced that the eldest born son of even middle class families would receive two weeks of training, a sword and some basic supplies and be sent out into Terra. If we complete our quest list, a who’s who of monsters slain, we will be knighted.”

“Oh…” Aalis licked her lips. “And…witches are on this list?”

Judd looked at her. “Yeah…they are…so I’m probably not going to be the last to try to kill you.”

They were walking along the stream, coming closer and closer to the village.

“If you killed me,” Aalis said softly, “it would be one less monster on your list…”

“Well, if I killed you, you’d be the first monster on my list…” Judd chuckled then blanched. “I mean, no…not that you’re a monster. I mean…I just meant…look, you aren’t a witch so there’s no reason for me to kill you…”

Aalis’ lavender eyes had softened into a troubled blue hue and Judd wondered if it had simply been the light of the forest that made her irises appear to be such a pretty but unnatural colour. He opened his mouth to speak though he knew not what he was going to say when the sound of screaming reached their ears.