Lover:Â Apartner in a romantic or physical relationship
Once upon a time there was a very handsome and competent witch hunter. His ancestors had been dedicated to liberating the world from evil for decades, therefore, it is also his task; He toured the forests and towns of the continent, protecting the innocent of the world from evil magic.
When he reaches a town, the localâs approach, scandalized, recognizing the witch hunter. The town is dedicated to agricultural activity; therefore, the crops are extensive, and the hunter appreciates the cows grazing in the meadows. Everything is quiet.
If it werenât for the scared locals, he might have overlooked that locality.
âThe witch cursed my crops!â
The hunter raises an eyebrow âhow? â
A witch in this town? The hunter had visited many villages tormented by a witch, or a coven, none so orderly and peaceful, they had no fields, many died as a result of the curses, sometimes he saw how paranoia reached the locals to unthinkable extremes.
The town is made up of a rocky path, which is concentrated around a fountain and there is a functioning market, where merchants and peasants sell their products, it seems to come out of a fairy tale. Local fairs are not held in witch towns, but there can always be exceptions.
âThat girl looked at me wrong!â A woman shouted. The lady was holding a little boy in her arms, waving a toy and not interested in the conversation. âThen my butter melted in my hands. â
The women scream in horror. He is surprised by the similarity of womenâs clothing, her hair is hidden by a white cap with small frills on top, dresses made from patterned fabrics and aprons around their waists.
âDid she look at you wrong?â
She nods âBesides, she spends her time in that library reading those dusty books, Iâm sure sheâs learning spells!â There are nods. The hunter frowns. âWears black dressesâ they report.
âThe witch cursed my crops!â A farmer exclaims again.
âShe speaks to the toads.â
âShe has a cabin in a remote area,â another accuses. âShe doesnât let anyone visit her. My son says he spied on her through the window and she was stirring a cauldron, a cauldron! â
âEnough!â The hunter stops them. âWhereâs the witch? â
âI can guide him to you, but she is very powerful.â Iâll leave you nearby" a farmer stepped forward. He watches his hand, his lips tighten, and he looks up. âWe trust you, hunter. â
The hunter walked through the forest. The farmer had accompanied him to the outskirts of town, pointed out a stone path and advised him to follow it until he found a cabin.
When he found the cabin, it is hidden around some trees; and there is a small pond full of small toads, the animals croak and jump between the leaves of water lilies, an orchard and a rose garden that rises up to one of the windows. It doesnât look like a witchâs lair.
He hides behind a tree guiding his hand to his sword, ready to defeat this witch, but something stops him.
The door of the cabin opens revealing a young girl, she is small and she is dressed in a simple black dress, which is folded to reveal her bare feet, a stained apron on her waist and there is a scarf in her dark hair, probably so that it is not a nuisance in housework.
He notes that she is light, she moves generating sounds, it is as if she will float. There is delicacy in her movements, a light illuminates her walk and he cannot take his eyes off her.
Then, she begins to hum a soft melody and approaches the pond, she takes out a bag made of cloth; amphibians leap from their lily pads and congregate around her. He thinks that it is an enchantment, that her voice had affected him like the toads, he has to get rid of this witch.
The witch gives off something like a laugh when she sees the toads and itâs sweet and playful. She deposits the cloth bag, kneels without caring to get dirty and opens the cloth bag revealing small dry insects, there are dragonflies, worms, spiders and a large number of snails, she is feeding them.
âHere you go, friend.â He offers a snail to a toad and it wraps its tongue around the insect, disappearing in seconds. The witch laughs. âThey must eat, because their reproductive stage is approaching, and we need healthy tadpoles.â
Her voice is jovial, it is as silent as her steps and everything in her screams softly. Her appearance doesnât fit the descriptions and acts the locals said she did, but there is something quirky surrounding this young woman, something that pushes him to keep watching.
The witch lets the toads feed, walks through her garden taking care of her plants, digs the ground in search of vegetables, and tends the roses. Nothing makes him raise his eyebrows; There are no red flags around this girl.
Then, the young woman decides to sit on the porch of her cabin and read a book, while she bites a juicy peach, the liquid slides down her chin, she wipes it with the back of the dress. There is nothing peculiar about her.
The hunter decides to return to the village.
âHow are you leaving ?!â
The hunter snorts âI have to continue my eternal crusade. I donât have time for gossipy superstitious farmer speculations. â
He got his backpack ready.
âWait! â The farmer cuts him off. âWeâll pay you double if you get rid of the witch! â
Snorts âThere are no witches here. â
âHow do you explain the melted butter?â
The hunter looks at the woman âRays of the sun.â
âPlease stay a few days. Verify with your eyes that this young woman is a witchâ he is stopped by a farmer. âI will give you free accommodation. Maybe she knows about your arrival and who you are, thatâs why she didnât show her evil, â he supposes. âWe all have to treat you as an equal, give you a name and acceptance in the locality, then she will see the same.â
âOkay, but it will be a few days.â
The hunter was given the name Dami and a story was created as the farmerâs nephew, who came from the city to spend a few days and the whole town paid too much attention to him. The first days the witch did not appear by the town and they justified it saying that even the witches had to worry about their crops.
On the fifth day he accompanied the farmer to the fair, since his wife had to sell the jams made from the ripened fruit and the weight of the jars would break the eldersâ backs.
The lady had a stand where they offered their jams and fruits, he discovered her legendary rivalry with the neighbor, since they were dedicated to the same thing. The hunter was not involved in unnecessary fights, he devoted himself to carving a piece of wood sitting on a bench.
âDonât look,â the farmer approached him. If he was trying to be cautious, it wasnât working because he stood still, but not under his voice. âThe witch appeared.â
The young woman walked through the fair observing the products with a critical eye, carrying a straw basket, probably made by herself, where a piece of meat wrapped in paper, leaves that gave off a pungent aroma, and a small portion of vegetables stood out. In her path, the inhabitants avoid her and flee from her gaze, as if she were plagued and wonders what it is like to live in a place where everyone repels you.
She doesnât seem to mind.
That morning he looks cooler, the dirt is free of his clothes and he has some shoes. She believes that there are no insects in her apron or humming, it is more she looks alert, as if waiting for a signal to run away, but even with all this she walks with her chin up and shoulders straight and, proud.
âIf she approaches, they must attend to her,â he orders.
The lady opens her eyes and shakes her head âNo, no. Mister Hunter, she can curse us or cast a spell on my jams. â
âI have to know how she treats others.â He doesnât look up from his carving. His knife makes a cut in the wood, and the doll no longer has a head; The lady gulps and nods nervously. âYou must treat her well.â
The woman wipes her sweaty palms on her dress and trembles as the witch approaches. The young woman inspects the jams with a glance, her hands remain on her basket squeezing hard, contained so as not to touch anything and reads the labels.
The hunter analyzes her closely. There are no rotten teeth, her skin is smooth and free of blemishes, there is only pale skin and her hair is clean, it is dark in tone, she catches the light in a bluish glow. There are no rotten nails, there are no warts, the typical pointy nose or red eyes, but they are purple in color; it is the only sign.
She fulfills only one requirement: unusual eyes, but it is not enough. She can also wear this young womanâs skin as a costume.
âGood morning, young ladyâ
She suppresses a chill and looks at the woman in amazement. No one had ever spoken to her, ever.
He feigns interest in his carving but is paying attention to her every move. The young woman continues to read the labels on the jams, is bent over the smaller jars, and seems calm.
She is not yet that young woman who observed feeding the toads and taking care of her garden, here she is cautious, as if she had calculated each of her actions.
The elderly couple debate in silence, they are very nervous. Noticeable.
âAre you going to buy?â He says.
The witch watches him for the first time. He thinks that she will not answer him, since she only observes him static, like a rock.
âMy coins are gone,â she answers quietly. He refuses to be surprised because sheâs speaking to him, it goes through his head that itâs because she hasnât seen him around here, but heâs still cautious. âSorry if I it bothered youâ heâs pulling away.
He stands up, picks up a jar of a reddish jam, and offers it to her âItâs a gift for being our first customer. â
She steps back when he offers her the jam, frightened. She freezes, exchanges a look between the hunter and the owners of the premises, who shake heads and remain silent.
âDonât take it that way, miss.â The hunter watches the elders. âThey are happy that a young woman like you sets her eyes on the jams, isnât it, guys? â The farmers nod.
For a minute he thinks she wonât accept it and will run away, but she takes the jam gently and thanks the farmers.
When she leaves, the lady drops onto the bench and runs a hand over her face.
The hunter looks at the young woman, who is walking with her head down and looks at the jam in her basket.
âMister hunter, are we cursed now?â
He rolled his eyes âNo. I still believe she is not a witch. â
âDid you see how she observed the jam?â They say at the rival jam stand. âYou shouldnât buy thereâ they advise a customer.
The hunter had offered to repair the roof of the farmersâ house, as they complained of a leak that was bothering them and had heard that the rains were approaching. It is a favor for another.
He has been here for a week and a half; he has seen the young woman for only one day. He had sent a letter to his family so that they would provide more information on witches, especially those who do not look like one.
âHello,â a small voice interrupts him. He leans over to see the witch at the entrance to the house, she appeared out of nowhere, if he were more superstitious, he would have thought she appeared out of nowhere, but he knew about her stealth. âI came to drop this byâ She seems nervous. She raises her basket for him to see. âMy chickens just laid eggs and I thought I could thank them for this with the jamâ, she explains.
The hunter analyzes the eggs in detail, they do not seem cursed, although from a distance he could not see well.
âI will come down and receive you.â
He entered the house through the attic window. When he is in the living room, he sees the scared couple of farmers, they hide behind a sofa and watch the girl from the window.
He rolled your eyes and open the door.
The girl is dressed much like the first time he saw her. The scarf exposes her face, realizing that she is attractive to the naked eye, unlike the witches he had murdered in other towns.
âSorry to interrupt your work, Mr. Dami.â She doesnât look him in the eye. Her foot rubs over the other, showing embarrassment. âPlease accept the eggs for the jam.â
Hearing about the eggs, the lady makes herself fit and looks at the gift with emotion.
âOh, darling. Thank you.â
The hunter grimaces when he sees the women so interested and changed aptitude and begins to tell a story about why they canât have chickens on the farm justifying it with age, she lengthens it more than necessary and the young woman stays in silence, just listening.
He is left alone to see how she behaves, she looks uncomfortable, but she does not interrupt the old woman, she nods and is silent at the right moments, she seems almost excited that someone is telling her about their life. When she leaves, the old woman says goodbye with enthusiasm, making comments about how sweet and pretty she seemed.
Her husband does not seem so convinced.
âMaybe the eggs are cursed.â
The hunter takes one of the eggs and crashes it on the ground; there is a yolk and a white âThese eggs are fine. If they were cursed, they would be completely black inside, they would be rotten. They can eat without worry.â
The old woman applauds âIâll finally eat fried eggs! â
When the information came from the city there is nothing he can do, the signs and characteristics were clear, and the young woman does not comply with any. You canât blame someone for witchcraft if the evidence doesnât point to it, as much as some see him as a murderer, he wouldnât kill an innocent, this girl has done nothing.
âI promise you sheâs a witch.â
The hunter rolls his eyes âYou say it only to keep me in this town. There are towns that are really being cursed by witches. These people do not understand that because someone is different doesnât mean that they are capable of hurting entire fields.â
The farmers are angry, they had hired him for something else.
âYou can pay me as many coins as you want, I wonât stay.â
âIf you donât make the witch go, we will kill her.â
A dagger slides through his hand, he is ready to fight these people, but someone hits him in the head and the hunter falls to the ground, unconscious.
When he opens his eyes, he is sore and lying on a pile of cloth, in a makeshift bed.
It is in a cabin; the roof is wooden, and it is hot. There is a smell of spices, a warm cloth on his forehead and he was stripped of his usual clothing to wear a shirt and pants made of soft fabric.
âDonât move,â a voice advises him.
Then, he looks at the young woman who is mixing herbs in the cauldron and the liquid is thick with a yellowish tone. His instincts kicked in, he recalled the rumor that she was seen brewing a potion in a cauldron, perhaps he was wrong.
âHow did you find me?â
She looks up âI found you in the woods. Donât move, they gave you a good blow to the head. â
âI brought you to my cabin. Youâve been unconscious for five hoursâ she informs him. "Keep stirring. I guess you already know about me.â
She rolls her eyes âEveryone believes that. â
He stands up with difficulty, he staggers, and the weapon continues in his hand. He keeps it hidden, the young woman has not confirmed anything, however, she can still be dangerous. He looks at her and thinks that at any moment she can remove her skin to reveal a horrible being, the type of witch he fights with.
Heâs approaching âAre you or not? â
Each of his footstepâs echoes on the hardwood floor, she stands up leaving the cauldron boiling aside and watches him. When they get close, everything pulls him towards this girl, she is like a magnet and he thinks he prefers to see what is under her dress.
The girl approaches, everything is light, delicate and she is bathed in light, as if she were glowing. He wants to run his hands through her hair, feel her skin and kiss her. He had never felt this way for any woman; he does not care about the danger or threats that he would receive. Perhaps she has bewitched him.
Their gazes meet, jade and amethyst.
He pulls her in a kiss, there is a gasp of surprise and for a few seconds she does not respond, but one of her hands wraps around his neck and she stands on tiptoes wanting to deepen the kiss, he is faster and wraps his arm in her waist, raising her. Now they are at the same height, he feels her hand go up to his hair stroking.
She tilts her head, her teeth brushing his lower lip, and she pinches his hand, but sheâs laughing, and they have to part.
Raven is laughing so loud that she hears Maps yelling cut through her megaphone. The boys who roll their eyes knowing that they would have to repeat the whole scene from the beginning, and he just wants to finish all this, it is bad to have to kiss like this in public WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND in a play that tells a story that could be printed in an erotic book.
He remembers that this is for an extra credit, although he does not understand how the story written by Maps was decided to be presented.
 "Raven, youâre ruining it!â
His girlfriend bit her lips holding a laugh "Itâs just that⌠Do I really have to say ´Mr. Dami´ with a sigh? â she laughed. She cites the dialogue, even in rehearsals they had mocked this phrase and the meaningless story. âDo you want to present this in front of the parents? â
Maps rises âItâs a beautiful story about a hunter and witch who fall in love!â There is some laughter. âThey are rivals to lovers! â
Damian rolls his eyes âWe could do a parody. â
The girl is proud of her work and would not exchange it, even if other ideas were suggested. Damian had thought that there was nothing original, with the script he had all the time with an eyebrow raised, thinking about the gaps, inconsistencies and absurd things in the plot.
Was there a need for the hunter and the witch to kiss each other? NO, Maps did it to annoy him? SURE, also the name she chose the hunter is very similar to his.
âThe premise is simple: Once upon a time there was a hunter and a witch who fell in love, but their story did not have a happy endingâ she points them out. Raven is struggling to remove her heels and rest her feet after two hours of rehearsals. âYou guys should understand the complexities of your characters! â
Is his character complex? Doesnât he fit in with the typical male lead in novels?
âWait, isnât that line from Daughter of Smoke and Bone?â
âWhat do you think the witch and the hunter are called?â
Damian looks up from the book he is reading. Theyâre both on the sofa in the library, they were having a lazy afternoon, they had tea in porcelain cups, while Raven lays her head on her boyfriendâs legs, Titus sleeps on the carpet and Alfred the cat is curled up on his stomach, pinching the fabric and knead his skin looking for the best sleeping position.
âI donât care,â he goes back to his book.
She does not take it personally, he is not happy with the direction of the work and has complaints. Raven treated him with grace, but Damian cannot help but point out mistakes.
âI think the witch can be called Violet.â
She thinks about it âShe has Violetâs face. â
Damian lowers his book, looks her in the eye and strokes her hair, exposing her face. His hands are calloused, he smells of ink, lotion and soap, there is a scar on his palm, which is a sensitive spot and still makes a chill run down her body when his green eyes are looking at her, his hands touch her and turn her into a whimsical girl who wants more. They are not a sentimental couple, he is a tough and distant person, she is lonely and direct with her opinions, but when they are together it is different.
âYou cannot be guided by that alone, my darling.â
The ´Darling´ had been one of the few nicknames that had implemented their vocabulary, it appeared at certain times. After sex when they are tired and happy about to sleep, when it appeared at dawn when finishing an exhausting patrol, it used to be present when they drink tea or when they feel affectionate, after the missions left them exhausted and only wished they were close.
A smile glides across his face âAm I not the intuitive one here? â
Raven kisses the palm of his hand, and he smiles. âYou are.â
âAWWWW,â Dick squeals. Her brothers enter the library and are mixed with emotions. âARENâT THEY PRETTY? â
(Itâs sad to end Damirae week 2020. Is my first time that I participate, I loved it.Â
The community is incredible.Â
I planned a lot of things for fanfics.Â
Excuse my bad English, Iâm working on it.
Thank you, @ravenfan1242 Youâre wonderful!Â
P.S: DAMIAN IS AÂ SOFT BABY)Â
