The Little Witch of the Forest
Chapter 1
It was a good day when he caught sight of her, even if she disappeared almost immediately.
She hasn't tried to lure him into a trap this time, which he considered a small victory. She hasn't led him astray, but on the other hand she hasn't spoken to him much either. Nadarr was desperate for a conversation, a chance to speak to her. She was obviously a creature of intelligence – there was no mistaking the glimmer in her eyes – only a sharp-minded person would behave the way she did.
She had proceeded with caution, studied her stalker, kept her distance. He supposed that if she hadn't tried to hex him into oblivion despite her clear threat the day of their first meeting it meant that she wasn't past seeing reason.
She lived secluded, and only the gods knew what she was truly capable of. It was a thought worth pondering – especially since Nadarr had so much time to think when she reverted to silence.
The more he thought about it, the more inclined he was to reconsider his mother's tales and the legend surrounding the witch. Could it be that she was the owl and the raven that seemed to follow him during his first weeks of wandering? Would she answer truthfully if he asked? If it was him he wouldn't tell a soul.
Sometimes he thought she was there but didn't see anything. On other occasions he saw her, and then she walked round a tree and was no longer there. On rare instances he thought he heard footsteps, or the rustling of leaves and branches indicating someone was coming, but nothing moved at all.
Branwenn sighed, and knelt to the ground. This man was tenacious, she had to give him that. Her hands dug in the wet ground and ripped out the roots she needed, storing them in her basket before she rose to her feet again. A slight shiver made her hair stand on end, and she knew he wasn't far.
He was good. Very perceptive – for a man. Despite the wards she cast about her he somehow always found his way back towards her, even forcing her to use tricks to lure him away. The sun had barely risen in the foggy morning, but already she sensed he was near, the sound of his footsteps against the ground growing closer.
“Um, hello,” he says almost shyly. He’s greeted with silence. Not a surprise.
It has been like this for weeks now; he finds her, chats mostly about trivial things. She rarely talks back, a few nods, a quiet hmm, follows her around for a while then says his farewells. Only to repeat the next day, everyday.
She walked on, her eyes fixed on the ground, looking for herbs and mushrooms. Would he ever give up? He was young and reckless, but she sensed no danger from him. When his eyes locked with hers, she saw not fear like she usually did in the eyes of men, but profound respect, awe, and envy. Truly she pitied the poor creature. She wished her fate to no living being, not even the highly superstitious people.
Having found a tree with the mushrooms she was looking for, she stopped walking again. Her mind constantly jumped back to the Direnor, unable to push him out of her thoughts. So far she has been able to keep her home hidden from view, leading him in the wrong direction every time he came too close, but she knew it was but a matter of time until he slipped past her vigilant eyes and saw where she lived.
Why couldn't he give up like the others? Run away in fear? She greeted him in the worst way possible, in the middle of the night, by surprise, and let her shadows loom over him like the wide open jaws of a predator ready to rip his head clean off. And here he was, still walking in her tracks.
It’s been a few years since she found her place under the sun here in the woods of Glacier's Forge, a little hut right next to the waters, living a peaceful and quiet life, learning everything she could from her mother, and staying mostly away from others. It was either a life on the run, or a life in isolation. Her mother chose the second, and Branween and her brother followed. She didn’t have much of a choice anyway.
When their mother passed, Uhtred and Branwenn were left alone, with no soul to rely on but at each other. Hunting and gathering to survive. But soon summers turned shorter, winters longer and crueler than the last.
It was just then that they started to show their faces on the busy roads of the village, her presence quickly becoming the never-ending source of whispers across the town’s market. Her visits were short and widely sporadic but Uhtred didn’t sink well with the wide attention others gave them, especially to his sister. Branwenn didn’t mind much, however. She found her little fun in being the wellhead of other people’s stories, having everyone think she’s a witch.
If only they knew she was something far worse.
People feared her and she would be lying if she said she didn’t take advantage of it. They talked about how she could bewitch a man with her smile, so it was a smile that became her weapon of choice, along with her imagination. She would play around with them, usually inventing a variety of stories about her newest potions or curses, and tell to the few traders from whom she would buy her beams and necessities, and all with a smile most charming anyone has ever seen.
It had been easy back in their village; people more or less knew of them. The mysterious woman, mother of two children that lived in the woods, apart from the village. Uhtred fought alongside the warriors when Frost Ones were near, while Branwenn and her mother tended the wounded if there were any. They were wary about them but knew they’re ultimately trustworthy. In Glacier’s Forge was a different story. People there were in a permanent state of vigilance and tension.
After a while, Naddar stopped talking. Silence fell between them but she could feel his eyes on her. It was becoming unnerving.
Finally, she spoke. “What is it?”
The question caught him by surprise. She stared at him while he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Today his autumn hair was braided back in two tight braids. Only a few locks of hair rested on his forehead and over his green eyes. The lean muscles of his body only accentuate his youth. He was strange even by Direnor standards.
The physical appearance of her and Uhtred was much like any Direnor but in close inspection, people could notice the otherworldly energy around them. Most of the time they are ignored but always on guard around them. Few knew about their nature and that was good, if the rest of the Direnors knew…well, they would be far less “friendly”. Like the lovely death glares of some of the mages.
Nadarr looked at her, a little sheepishly. “Well, Prince Halvar and his crew came back from their mission. And a friend of ours, Revy, lost an eye in the conflict. Is there any balm or remedy you could make to help her heal? I mean, she was given something to ease the pain, but I don’t know if it will help with the scar.”
Tilting her head to the side with a frown, she narrowed her mismatched eyes ever so slyly.
“Ah, I-I’ll pay you, of course.” He added quickly.
“I’ll need to know the condition of the wound,” Branwenn uttered.
“Um, would it not be best if you go see it yourself?”
Branwenn faced him deadpanned. “No. Describe it.”
After Nadarr described Revy’s condition, silence spread on for a few minutes while he observed her.
“Very well,” she finally said. She then looked past him and said, “You came quicker than usual, brother.”
Nadarr quickly turns only to face the chest of the very displeased Uhtred. The siblings were very disturbing to be around with, even more so Uhtred.
The first time he met the man, Nadarr saw how he tore a Frozen One in half without breaking a sweat. When he had found out that Branwenn and Uhtred were siblings, a strange wave of relief washed over him. But when the thought of the mute man thinking he was after his sister, Nadarr felt a stone sink in his stomach. It was more than obvious he didn’t appreciate his attention towards his sister. Although Uhtred shared the same predator glance of Branwenn, Nadarr was a little more terrified of the first than the latter. He was more aware of the damage the massive man could do to his body.
“G-greetings, Uhtred.” His greeting came out creaked and nervous, much to his embarrassment.
Uhtred stared at him up and down, to finish with an acknowledging nod, a disapproving look still in his eyes. He had found the presence of the young man more irritating and bothersome. The constant visits of his could bring trouble. Silence stretched awkwardly to Nadarr until Branwenn talked again.
“You may retrieve the remedy tomorrow,” she inquired. A mild quo for him to take his leave.
But nevertheless, Nadarr smiled, and fixed his brilliant eyes on her. She had asked him to come back, finally. Even if it was for something of little significance like this, he couldn’t avoid feeling butterflies in his stomach. With that smile, in spite of herself, Branwenn’s chest warm even after there was no sight of Nadarr left.
She felt the gaze of her brother. She queried, raising a brow. “What?”
He placed the kill of the day on the ground and quickly hand signed, “I thought you had tricked him enough to not find you, again.”
The traces of a smirk tilted up on her lips. “Worry I’ll start looking at him as a suitor? I’m past my breeding age, after all.”
He frowned hard this time, twisting his mouth, “By Rotar, don’t joke with that.”
“I have placed traps more often than not, but he is quite persistent and intuitive.”
“Try harder,” he demanded.
It was her turn to glare at him. Before she could say something, she took a deep breath.
“Look, I know you worry but you know quite well I can take care of myself,” she started. “If I knew he was ill-intended, I would have killed him the first time he approached.”
“I know, I know,” Uhtred signed admittedly. He knelt down to take the hunt on his hand to place on his shoulder once more. He then places his free hand on his sister’s shoulder and mouthed, “Just be careful.”
“Always,” she said with a reassuring smile.
___________ § ___________
Some days he doesn’t see her at all, like today. She had left the remedy tied on a tree’s branches with two notes. One with instructions for the remedy, the other with an order:
Leave the payment here.
Nadarr looked around cautiously as he tied the small basket with the pastries and other sweets he had made where she asked. He worried something or someone would take it while he left it, but the woman most likely had made sure for the payment to not be picked by anyone but herself.
Nadarr is left with the bitter taste of disappointment of not being able to see her that day. Even he could not ignore the loneliness of his daily endeavour and relished her company – although she mostly ignored him or lectured him, he found her rather endearing.
He was sure that she had grown to appreciate his presence just as he did hers. After years of living alone in the woods, surely she must seek out conversation and company other than her brother? What about friends? A lover?
Nadarr’s mind wandered as he sat on the table, while he listened to one of the men tell an elaborate - no doubt somewhat false - tale of the time he took on an angry mother boar. Mead had a way of making men do such things, the more they drank, the sillier they got. Inside the tavern was warm, as the fire in the center roared bringing a glow of life to its surroundings.
Shouts of disbelief whooped from the other patrons sitting around, listening to the tale. The soft, drunk giggles of Lex. Nadarr eyed her from his seat, sated by the drink and food. She was jovial with her sister, along with Revy and Halvar.
“Dude, this smells so nice!” Rev says while inspecting the salve. “I don’t know how you find this, but thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Nadaar grins at her. “I hope it helps.”
“You have been going regularly to the forest. How is it going?”
Nadarr tensed for a second. He got a feeling he shouldn’t divulge his encounters with Branwenn. At least not yet. “Oh, um, it was good. Got plenty of game once in a while.”
“That’s great!” Rev exclaims excitedly. “It has been quite hard these days to hunt. Next time, I will go with you.”
Taking on hunts alone in the Dead Forest was rarely something that should be done alone unless you had the utmost confidence in yourself. But Nadarr has always liked to do so on his own, although he had always welcomed Revy’s company in huntings. Moreover, there were no more Frozen Ones roaming the forest so it was safe to go there now. Sort of.
“Uh, sure,” he answered without thinking. There was no way Branwenn, or Uhtred, would let him bring someone else in their terrains.
“You should be careful in those woods,” Halvar says concerned. There was a hidden meaning in those words. Nadarr was suspicious Halvar knew something was up, he was his best friend after all.
“Well, of course,” Lex said, lowering her cup of mead. “You never know when you'll find a freaking Frozen One.”
“It's not just that,” Halvar turned to her. “My father used to tell me stories when I was younger.”
“Stories?” Nadarr asked, his shoulders tense.
“About mystic creatures and things that go bump in the dark. It’s dangerous for those tempted to sneak out at night and venture too far into the woods. Something maybe as dark and evil as the Frozen Ones.”
An alarm went off in Nadarr’s brain while his friend talked. And the night he met her came crashing to his mind.
He followed the whispers and gossip of the villagers. Hearing the tails of merchants, fishers and others who would buy remedies from her from time to time. The sun had set hours ago and the moon hadn't been full that night.
The frightful sight before him nearly caused his heart to stop. He stopped breathing, and he would swear the forest also held its breath at that moment.
She looked at him with intent, a sharp glimmer in her glowing eyes. Nadarr turned momentarily into stone, not moving a muscle, not even to breathe. She blinks, as though she was gazing upon a curious creature she had never seen before in her life.
Her face remained hidden in the shadow of her cloak, clothing so dark he couldn't see where it ended and where the night began. Nadarr could make out a nose and a mouth, but before he could fully study her face, she moved.
A brisk, silent movement that seemed to finally free Nadarr of her spell and allowed him to take in some much needed air. She stood a mere few meters away from him but the air was already much more breathable and he could think straight again and not just stare in fascination.
“You are trespassing,” her voice came disembodied, whispering and screaming at the same time, coming from here and there, from the sky above and the earth below, from in and out. The words echoed in his mind as though Nadarr was the one who thought them. He blinked and she was gone.
“What?” He whispered when his voice was returned to him.
Nadarr looked around, seeing nothing in the pitch black night but the glowing eyes of small animals and birds. He still felt her. She was there, watching him, like a predator watching their prey.
“Hags, onis, and banshees are still powerful and dangerous creatures.” Halvar’s voice brought him back to the conversation.
“No one had seen either of those in ages, Halvar.” Liz chuckled.
“But that doesn’t mean they don’t exist anymore,” Lex countered at her twin.
He grew up with these stories. They all did. They were ancient tales passed onto the next generations. Bogeymen parents told their children about how to make them behave, but their people knew very well of their existence. Dineros weren’t the only beings inhabiting Uskar. All sorts of creatures existed in this heavy snow covered land.
And even though her Direnor appearance, Nadarr had the feeling Branwenn was something entirely different.
——————-
Hey there guys! It has been ages since I posted something here. This is a story that hopefully would be short. More to come soon. Branwenn, Nadarr and Uthred are my original characters. Liz, Lex, Revy and Halvar are property of @mrneighbourlove @ridersoftheapocalypse and @s-kinnaly
