#verse;fantasy

Felicity watched the man carefully, and after a moment, calmed down slightly. She was still very tense, with the thought suddenly occurring to her that this was the first person she’d spoken to outside of guards or the King in over four years. Her heart beat in her ears, but she nodded when he showed that he had no weapons on him. She swallowed hard, her eyes scanning over the man in front of her. There was nothing to be afraid of he had said. He seemed kind, but she was still so nervous.

She found it hard to speak, her words getting stuck in her throat as she straightened up on the ground. She winced as there was a searing pain in her leg when she moved it. “I’m okay…it’s okay” she said, “I just…need a moment…please, you can just go, I’m alright” she insisted, looking up at him, her back against the tree she’d fallen over.

Felicity eyed the man carefully, he didn’t seem like a threat, and he sounded kind too…but after four years of being cooped up, trust didn’t come naturally anymore.

She didn’t say anything for a moment, and listened as he offered her space beside a fire. Truth was she wasn’t that cold, even though she was soaked to the bone, but she supposed that was because she was running on so much adrenaline she didn’t realise her actual bodily state.

“Who are you?” She asked, before she would answer anything, she needed to know if this man was a member of the Kings Guard, or someone else who would know of her. “Are you a bandit? Or a thief? Why are you in these woods?” She questioned him, still backing up away from him.

Tommy had been at the market since the early hours of the morning. It took time to set up the stall, and bring all his produce from the cart to their places. “Yeah yeah, it’s gonna be a good day, I can feel it” he said to his donkey as he turned around and fed him a carrot, before moving all the boxes up. His stall would be filled with carrots, potatoes, tomatoes, and other vegetables as well as jars of milk and pots of flowers; basically anything and everything he could make off the land he worked on.

█ ▌Where the trees began to thin and the clearing began, the dirt and grass became lush and green. There was a smell of wet soil, fresh water, and the lake-dwelling plants that made the air feel fresh. Even in the morning, the frogs were still croaking near the edge of the lake. However, they weren’t the only ones making sound.

Out near the center of the lake, nearly entirely submerged in the water, one lone witch was running fingers through several feet of wet, ginger hair. Waverly had decided today was a good day for a bath, and instead of crafting a tub in the privacy of her home, she enjoyed letting mother nature’s gifts provide her with the means of washing her hair and clothes. A dress was hanging up on a nearby tree, as well as a few pieces of jewelry fashioned from bone, shell, and native forest stones. They were drying in the air while she finished washing herself.

What once was...

The streets are ablaze with furious gleams.

Pyres burning bright and high, flames licking at young flesh – that’s what the world has come to; a vicious cycle repeated. Those unfortunate souls, sorcerers and sorceresses alike, lost their lives hundreds of years ago in unrighteous witch trials to pay for the sins of many. And now the granddaughters of those few survivors from days of calamity are trying to flee from sharing the same fate.

...runs its course anew.

Additional Information

Sorceresses were once trusted arcane advisors at courts worldwide. Indeed, there was scarcely a position of more importance, with some even ranking above king consorts and high nobility – as was their wont. They had climbed up the proverbial ladder in relentless pursuit of recognition. Despite their newly earned prestige, however, there were jealous whispers and wagging tongues. Many, especially members of the council, agreed on one point: those damned sorceresses were overstepping lines not to be crossed and had to be dealt with quickly, for more and more showed they wanted to meddle in more than just arcane affairs. Their sway at court began to burn a fickle flame. Then, one day, the enchantresses’ familiars mutated into uncontrollable, menacing monsters for causes unknown and the pyres have become a blazing testament once more. Witch hunters are being trained again, and researchers are chosen by the council to find a solution; to exterminate those beasts. One truth, however grave, remains: