Chương 30: The Starboy vs. The Witches

The Witches

"My Lady... why are we not riding in your carriage?" Half a day's time had passed since Enel and his group had left Widow's Wall, and Tiny had already complained a thousand times.

"Forgive me for the language, but my arse hurts." Guinevere's eyes left her book for a moment.

"You will get used to it in time." Tiny stared at her, watching as she rode her horse without even holding the reins, nor looking at the road since she'd been reading a book ever since they left. Enel was riding beside Guinevere, and the two had not really spoken to each other that much at all. And so, Tiny could really only speak to the person riding beside him.

"So, Sir Joric... how long until we reach this Crown's Guard?" Joric looked at him, then handed him his waterskin with a grin on his face.

"Crown's Guild. And a week's worth."

"A week?!" Tiny gasped.

"I wasn't told that. We're to ride our horses for a week?" Joric laughed, and so did his soldiers. Sadly for Tiny, they continued riding until the sun was setting and the warmth left the road. Like in their previous journey, the trees thinned in some places, then thickened again. The fields stretched deep purple and dry around them, and the silhouettes of birds circled in the distance. Perhaps, too many birds. Then, as they took the next bend in the road, their march slowed.

An old woman stood beside a cart whose wheel had sunk into a rut, and the large roots of the trees nearby did not help. She wore a dark shawl over her shoulders, and her back bent as she tried to push the cart alone. A sack had split open near her feet, spilling something pale and dry onto the dirt.

"Please," she called as soon as she saw them.

"Good sirs, good lady. Help an old woman?" Tiny squinted. Enel was already dismounting.

"M'lord," Tiny whispered quickly, "wait." Enel turned.

"What is it?" Tiny looked at the woman, then at the cart.

"Did we not meet an old woman like this before? Back when Ulf... was with us?"

"And?"

"He said she was a witch." Guinevere closed her book when she heard that. The old woman smiled at them with too many teeth.

"Only need a push, young lord. The road has been cruel to me." Joric raised a hand, and two of the soldiers dismounted with caution, while Enel was already approaching her.

"M'lord!" Tiny screamed from behind.

"She might be a witch!"

"Maybe she is a good witch, Tiny."

"M'lord... there are no good witches." Enel smiled at the old woman.

"Bless you. Bless you, sweet boy." Enel placed one hand on the side of the cart and lifted it. He was about to carry it away, but noticed a pair of shoes partly hidden beneath the cloth. The shoes were fairly noticeable, as they looked quite different from what Enel was used to seeing. Enel stared at them, then slowly lowered the cart back. Guinevere followed his gaze, and so did the others, and their faces changed.

"Lord Enel," Guinevere said softly. Enel reached toward the cloth, and the old woman's smile vanished.

"Now, young lord, those are only—" Enel pulled the cloth away. For a moment, the road became quieter than anything Enel had ever heard. Tiny made a sound and turned aside, covering his mouth. Guinevere's hand rose to her lips, but did not quite touch them. Joric drew his sword, and the other soldiers did the same. Beneath the cloth were children. Kaniin children. Small furred bodies wrapped together, some in torn blankets, some still wearing the clothes they had died in. Their shoes were muddy.

Their faces were pale. Too pale. They... had been shaved. One little hand rested against another's sleeve, curled as if it had been holding on. Enel looked at them, and his ears rang for a moment until he heard nothing. None of them were breathing, and their hearts were still. The old woman stepped back. From the trees, two more women appeared. One was tall and thin, with charms of bone and root tied around her wrists.

The other had her mouth painted red from chin to cheek, and she was already writing something in the air.

"Witch!" one of the soldiers shouted. The old woman's fingers moved too quickly, smoke curling from them. [Gapos nga til... Awla!] The words sank into the road, and roots burst from beneath the dirt, wrapping around Enel's ankles and knees. Joric shouted and rushed forward, but the red-mouthed witch flung a word toward him. The word turned into a shadow in the shape of a raven, and it struck him in the chest and threw him from his horse.

Another soldier swung his blade at the thin witch, only for the dirt beneath him to open and swallow his leg to the thigh. Guinevere's horse reared. Tiny fell from his saddle with a scream and rolled into the grass. He panicked for a moment, but quickly rushed to Guinevere's side to calm her horse. Meanwhile, the old witch lifted both her hands, her eyes fixed on Enel.

"Do not move, pretty lord." Enel looked at the dead children. Then at her.

"Under the Sovereign of the Seven Laws," Enel whispered, his head lowered.

"I will not ask you the Three Questions." This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The old witch blinked. Her mouth opened, but closed as Enel casually stepped forward, snapping the roots binding his feet like they were parchment.

"You have already answered them." The old witch's eyes widened. She tried to write in the air again, but Enel was already in front of her.

"Wait," she said. Enel's fist struck her face anyway. The old witch's body hit the dirt, and only her body since there was no head to fall anymore. The smoke trailed from her fingers, fading away. The red-mouthed witch saw that and screamed as she threw another word at him, a jagged red thing that hissed as it flew. Enel raised his arm, and the snake broke against his skin like brittle glass.... and everyone watched as he reached her before the red shards finished falling. She stumbled back, still writing.

[Hwasa nga un—]"Shh." Enel clasped her mouth, then slammed her into the ground. His hand and her head, two feet into the dirt. The last witch stared at the two bodies of her family, and whatever cruelty had been on her face twisted into terror. Slowly, she raised both palms.

"No," she gasped.

"No, no, no. Mercy. Mercy, young lord. We were hungry. We were only—""Hungry...?" Enel looked at the cart, his lips trembling.

"You were going to eat them?" The witch followed his gaze and began shaking her head.

"N-no! We did not kill them. Some were already—" Enel crossed the distance in a blink and drove a fist through her chest. The witch's mouth opened, but before any other words could come out of it, Enel casually sliced her neck with his other hand. They... did not deserve his sword. For a moment, the only sound was the soldiers breathing. The one trapped in the earth no longer tried to pull himself free. Joric stared in shock from the ground. While Guinevere gripped her reins with both hands, staring.

All of that happened in the span of seconds. They saw Enel moving with the wind, vanishing from their eyes, only to be followed by blood.

"Lord Enel..." Guinevere's face had gone pale. The duke's daughter had seen Enel with children climbing his shoulders. She had seen him apologize for every little thing. Neither of those prepared her for what she saw. Not the cruelty, no—but what came after. Nothing. Enel was completely calm as he stepped over the thin witch's corpse and made his way back to the cart. Utter disregard for those who had committed heinous crimes.

"We should bury them," he said, gently placing a hand on one of the children's arms. Joric carefully approached, staring at the blood dripping from Enel's arm.

"Young lord… a witch's victim must be burned." Enel closed his eyes when he heard that. He backed away and turned to Joric, nodding.

"Then, we will ask the god of fire to bring them peace. Can you do that?"

"Of course, young lord." Joric stepped forward while writing in the air. [Vulkan, accept these children as your own... Fire.] He grabbed the words, and they burst into flame on his palm. And gently, he lowered the flame onto the corpse of the children. Guinevere dismounted and stepped toward the cart. She did not look away as their corpses burned... their fur withered first.

"These children," she said quietly.

"I know where they live." Enel turned to her.

"How do you know?"

"I have memorized the map," Guinevere said. Her voice remained steady, though her thumbs were scratching her fingers.

"There is a kaniin hamlet east of here. Dalerly."

"How far?" Enel asked. Joric's expression changed.

"Dalerly is not on the route, young lord."

"How far?"

"An hour, perhaps more if the roads are poor."

"Then we turn now," Enel said. Joric looked at Guinevere.

"My Lady, His Grace ordered us to escort you and Lord Enel to the Crown's Guild." Guinevere looked at the burning cart, then at Enel.

"And now I am ordering us to go to Dalerly." Joric swallowed.

"My Lady—""I made an oath," Enel said, and everyone looked at him. He stepped forward, placing his arm through the burning cart. Joric and the soldiers gasped at this, but Enel made no reaction at all.

"I made an oath to protect people, and so did you, Sir Joric. So did the soldiers behind you," he said.

"If someone needs me, I will run to them. No matter where they are." Joric stared at him... and so did the soldiers behind him. For a moment, there was silence. But that silence was quickly broken by Tiny, who was already mounting the horse, which was too big for him. Enel nodded, also returning to his horse. Guinevere also stared at him, and she finally understood why people followed him before thinking. Joric slowly bowed his head before moving.

"You heard the young lord!" he raised his hand.

"We ride east!" And ride they did. The road worsened quickly, turning to hard dirt. Enel rode in front, and everyone just stared at his red cape and golden hair bouncing through the incoming darkness of night. Soon, however, something made him stop.

"What is it?" Joric asked. Enel did not answer. He tilted his head to the side... and he could hear it. A laugh.

"We are close! I hear someone!"

"What? Where?!" Enel rode faster, and after a couple more minutes, Dalerly appeared on the horizon. It was a small settlement of wooden roofs and stone walls, and it had no proper fence to protect them from the outside. And their fields... their fields were dead. There was smoke, but none of it was coming from their chimneys. Tiny stepped off his horse.

"Where... are all the people?" They entered the hamlet carefully on foot, with Enel walking ahead of them. He looked at a bucket lying on its side near the well, water spilled into the dirt, and already drying. All the doors of the houses were open, creaking without even a wind. There were marks on the walls, black and wet—and from the scent that lingered in the air... it was feces. They were all quiet, then one of the soldiers cursed. Tiny followed his gaze, only for him to immediately look away.

Several children hung from their necks to a large tree near the center of the village. Their feet were bare, and their little shoes had been placed neatly below them. Guinevere lightly gasped. She pressed her hand against her stomach, and for the first time since Enel had met her... she had no words as she stared at their tails swinging. Joric's face hardened.

"Sovereign preserve us." Enel's steps hastened.

"Lord Enel," Joric said.

"Stay near us." Enel kept walking. And finally, they saw someone. It was a man who stepped out of a house. His eyes were hollow, and he had blood on his shirt. He carried a sickle, but he carried it as loosely as the way he walked. Then, another villager stepped out behind him. Then another. Then more. And soon, they were surrounded by people who looked like they were... asleep. Guinevere stepped closer to Enel.

"This is a curse."

"Can... it be broken?" he asked.

"I do not know." The villagers began to move toward them. Joric raised his sword.

"Do not kill unless you must! They are cursed!" A woman lunged at one of the soldiers, biting into his armor with her long fangs before he could shove her away. Another villager swung an axe at Joric, but he grabbed it and kicked the man away. Tiny yelped as someone grabbed his boot, but he hammered their head with his bag. Then, Enel moved. He caught the man with the sickle by the wrist and took the weapon away. The bone cracked beneath Enel's fingers, and the man did not even scream.

Enel looked at the man's hollow eyes for a moment, then gently pushed him aside. Another villager rushed at him, but this time, Guinevere came in from behind, kicking the villager on the back of their knee. The villager buckled, and Guinevere spun in place and swung her foot right onto their temple, knocking them out. It did not take long at all until all the villagers were subdued and unconscious...... but it was then that a laugh flared from the tree where the children were hung.

The cursed villagers who were on the ground convulsed, their heads all turning toward the tree... or rather, above it. There was a woman there, sitting on the thick branch with the children beneath her. She was not old, not young. Her hair had been braided with little bones, and her dress was made of layered cloth stitched from too many colors... of skin. And then, she casually leaped down, landing on all fours like a beast. The soldiers raised their blades at her, but the woman only smiled.

"Oh," she said while slowly getting up.

"I have visitors, I see." Enel stared at her pale face. Joric moved closer to Guinevere.

"As I thought, a High Witch!" The high witch looked at him and laughed.

"A high witch, you say? Then you know you should not have come here!" The witch lifted her hand, and smoke began to gather around her fingers. Not ordinary smoke. It was thick and dark, filled with small red lights that flickered like eyes.

"Seek cover!" Joric roared as the high witch began to hum. [Urtmudre bos, Sovereign ibaw, aminaw nga...] Joric's face paled.

"Back! Everyone back!" The high witch laughed, her fingers moving faster.

"Too late. It—huh?" The high witch blinked, then looked at the young man who suddenly appeared in front of her. And without any warning, Enel reached into the invocation and grabbed the words burning in the air. Everyone stumbled back as the light burst between Enel's fingers. The high witch stared at him, her mouth open, but no other words could come out. The words writhed in Enel's hand like a worm, burning bright enough that the blood on his sleeve began to steam.

"Young lord!" Joric shouted from behind him.

"Release it! The Script will burst!" Enel did not release it. Instead, he stared the witch right into her shocked, confused eyes.

"You like eating innocent children?"