WITCH'S GAMBIT

Chapter-1: Prologue

Long ago, when the world was first being formed, God found themself at a loss as to what they should put upon the lands. Sentient beings to live and thrive there.

They thought and thought, yet they were still unable to think of beings who should live on their names. Eventually, they came to a decision after the suggestions of the two suggestions of the angels Ambriel and Madan.

Ambriel suggested the creation of humans, brings who would learn and grow, age and die, but would hold an insatiable desire for knowledge. Even at the cost of their surroundings.

Madan suggested the creation of Witches to help keep the humans and the world in balance. They would be granted powers by God to manage the world and keep it living and breathing, at the cost of long life and deep connections to their respective lands.

Satisfied with the possible results of these two sentient beings, God created the first Witches and the first humans, sending them down to Earth to see how things would play out.

For a long time, things went smoothly. Witches cared for the land as if it were their own child and humans left the Witches to their own devices, knowing no reason for going after the magical beings.

That was until the first Witchhunter arose.

The Witchhunter, Cecilio, was skeptical of the Witches and their practices in the magical arts. The Witches would not answer the questions of what their powers were for, nor what they did with their practices. They were bound by oath to God to never expose their purpose. Unsatisfied with the answers he received, Cecilio's desire for knowledge consumed him until he did the unthinkable.

He kidnapped and tortured a Witch to her death in his pursuit of knowledge.

As soon as the Witch breathed her last breath, so did her lands. The grass turned from lush green to dry yellow, the animals began to die, and the once fertile grounds could not even support a grain of wheat.

The people became desperate for anything that would answer why their lands had suddenly became so barren. Why they were starving and dying of thirst. And Cecilio had the answer.

"The Witches did this to you."

Blinded by his own hubris and desire for more knowledge on the Witches, Cecilio sowed dissent in the hearts of the people and gave them answers. He told them that the Witches brought upon their pain and suffering. He could rectify the damage if only he could gain more information on the Witches.

And so began the Huntings. Using the teachings of Cecilio, villagers would bind the powers of a Witch with a special technique and drag them through the streets. Staining the ground with their blood and killing the lands, furthering their uneducated hate.

More and more Witches were killed, causing more and more land to become inhospitable and the lands that could be lived in blocked out any outsiderers in fear of either the Witchhunters or Witches.

Soon, Witches weren't the only fear the humans had. Without the protection of the Witches, demons known as Vietlings began to roam the Earth, eating any unsuspecting humans by assuming a human form and feeding upon their hatred.

Truly, the human's undoing had been either their desire for knowledge or lack of it.

Many still hospitable lands ran to the defence of Witches, having their Witches be considered treasures, causing greater divide between the humans.

The first ever land 'purged' of Witches was known proudly as Cecilio, in honor of the first Witchhunter to open their eyes. A community of Witchhunters so fanatic that they would even kill their own at even the suggestion there might be witchcraft at work.

It's such a pity that our starring role was born here. Isn't it?

Let the curtains raise and our tragedy begin.

Chapter-2: Awakened & Afraid

The cry of the young woman seemed to go unheard by the crowd of villagers, letting out cries of their own.

"Kill the Witch!"

"Shame on you, cursing our village!"

"Vile creature!"

"Demon's minion!"

The young woman on the podium was familar to Ailana. The baker's daughter, Sitia. She had always been kind to the other villagers, offering what little she had to those she had left.

It was a pity that any good will was thrown away the second the word Witch was attached.

And all over a dead goat or two.

"People of Cecilio, I give you your Witch!"

The nasally voice of Witchhunter Abaddon brought the cries of the crowd to new heights. Ailana felt her father's hand grip her's tighter. He was one of the few people not participating in the yelling of the crowd, trembling as he listened to them.

Till the very end, Ailana remembered Sitia pleading and crying abouther innocence. No one had listened. Not her parents, her siblings, or even her husband. She had been completely abandoned. Yet she continued to plead.

Even when she was put into that terrible Witch killing device. The

Boiler, she recalled it like she had forgotten. The already tied up Sitia had been tossed into the contraption and still continued to beg and scream as the top was screwed on.

They truly had to go the full mile and make sure the device amplified her cries.

She remembered watching the water be poured inside of the metal killing machine, the bottom of it being lit, the bubbling sound of the water, and especially...

Sitia's screams of anguish that eventually ebbed into silence, nothing but the bubbling of water taking its place. To the village's delight.

Ailana had been 7 when that Witch Execution had happened. It hadn't been her first, nor was it her last, but it was one of the more memorable ones. One that haunted her. She couldn't be around a pot

of boiling water without retching.

At least it hadn't been one of the devices where she could see their face.

Her father would always whisper under his breath after every execution, face grim. "They're becoming more and more savage."

Of course, her father would know the most about that. He had been alive and living in Cecilio for much longer than she had. He had seen many more deaths than her.

He had seen her mother's execution.

It was no wonder they both had been ostracized. The widow of a Witch and the offspring of a Witch. Ailana could not help but scoff to herself at the supposed wickedness both her and her father held in themselves.

Their only wickedness was being witness to these crimes against humanity and doing nothing. The wickedness of the other villagers laid in their methods of killing Witches. Truly, who was more wicked in this situation?

It did not matter who was more wicked. What mattered was who was a Witch and who was a human. Nothing more and nothing less. That was why Ailana could do nothing but silently curse herself as she stared at the corner of her worn room, the dry and loose dirt breaking through her floors. But that was not the only thing there.

Although it was quite small, she could still see the thing she had only seen in books. A small, green, budding plant. All curled up in her corner looking innocent.

Ailana could feel her legs trembling as she wobbled over to the small plant, vision a bit blurry.

This wasn't real. It just couldn't be.

She kneeled down in the corner and gently raised the plant from the loose, light ground. Roots and all. Her hands began to shake as the roots began to circle her fingers in an almost comforting manner. Instead, they brought the opposite effect about. A choked sob came from out her mouth, tears sliding down her cheeks as her thin body trembled and seemed to lose all strength.

She was a Witch. And if anyone ever found out about it, they'd drag her through the streets by her scalp and kill her for everyone to see.

Her sobs couldn't help but grow louder at the thought. What device would they use on her? The Stretcher? The Flattener? The Roaster? Or perhaps The Boiler? What would her father's expression be as he had to watch his only child be killed among the cheering of a crowd?

Ailana felt the little plant in her hand tremble with her, feeling her terror, her anguish. She could only steel herself mentally as her body would not stop its shaking.

She did not know what method of death the people of Cecilio might give to her, but she did not wish to stay and figure it out. She needed

to leave.

Or at least die trying.

Chapter-3: Bewitched & Bolting

"Witchhunter Abaddon's daughter fell ill this morning."

Ailana's hand stopped midway to her mouth, the cup of water in her hand almost having been dropped at the announcement by her father.

"You mean Loralei became sick?" She hoped that her voice didn't sound shaky. Sickness was always only drawn to one conclusion. Especially with her father's occupation.

The work of a Witch.

Loralei had always been a personality in the village. Her father, Witchhunter Abaddon, was the head of the town while her mother was part of a family that had never had a Witch proven to be within it. Add in the fact she was arguably one of the prettiest girls in the village and had been spoiled since birth, and you had the perfect mixture for her main tormentor.

And Ailana was sure that the only grievance that Lorelai had against her was being born on the same day as her.

Just yesterday before her whole Witch meltdown, Lorelai had been just fine and having her usual schedule of attempting to crush what was left of her spirits in her little pale hands. How could her health take such a sudden turn?

Her father nodded solemnly. "They've already begun a Witch Hunt. I pity the poor soul they'll be dragging to the execution stage."

Ailana felt her heart drop into her stomach. She couldn't stay in this place anymore, especially during a Witch Hunt. She knew she didn't make Loralei sick, at least she didn't think she had. If she had she didn't mean it. But that didn't matter here. All that mattered was that she was a Witch in a Witch killing village during a Witch Hunt and she needed to go.

She had long ago hidden the little plant where she believed no one could find it, but she didn't know if she should bring it with her. On one hand, it was technically her first creation and she felt a strange attachment to it, she didn't have the heart to throw it into the fireplace and watch it shrivel up in the flames. On the other hand, it was the most damming evidence they could place against her with her Witch identity. 

No one other than a Witch could cause greenery to grow. It was the greatest sin one could commit, according to the Cecilio Texts. Or at least the part the Witchhunters share with the public.

"I'm guessing that Witchhunter Abaddon is heading the investigation?"

"Course he is, can't spend a single day without swinging the stick up his arse around to police the public."

This was probably another reason that their small family was ostracized. Her father would never close his mouth. Hadn't closed it ever since he was born and kept it even looser after her mother's execution, leaving him a widow with a little baby girl.

There was even a saying in the village about him. 'Speakers like Sander only speak slander', or something like that. Once that started circling about her father only got more blunt and vulgar with his words, perhaps to spite them even more.

He was never a man who would go down silently, that's for sure.

Ailana wished she had even an ounce of his guts, even a pinch of them would make her feel better.

"Is everything alright, Lana?"

Her father leaned over the table slightly, bending down his height that was barely changed by sitting in his chair. Her father had always been unusually tall, like what bears looked like in the pictures she would see in books here and there. His hair and eyes were dark like the night sky, but held a warmth she was sure only she had ever been witness to.

They also seemed to see right through her.

"I'm just fine. Why do you ask?"

"You've just got this look in your eyes. It always happens when you're nervous about something."

"You must be seeing things."

Ailana could never believe she was her father's daughter due to their opposing appearances. While he was dark, lengthy, and broad, she was bright, petite, and mouse-like. She took after her mother more, although she'd never know. Her hair was knotty and fiery red in color, eyes green like her little sprout, and the tiniest girl in the village, which says a lot since all of them were quite short. To say she was eye-catching was an understatement.

Her father blew air out of his nose, as he often did when he knew she was lying, and nodded. 

"If you insist. But remember that you can tell me anything."

Ailana could only nod and eat what little breakfast they had.

Being sent to grab firewood was a common task for Ailana and it wasn't far from the house anyway. They lived on the outskirts of Cecilio just like the other town outcasts who had Witches found in their families, meaning they were the furthest away from the well but closest to what was left of the brittle trees. She had to bring a step stool to get the higher branches, but she was still the quickest collector there was.

She couldn't help but be more alert now that her Witch identity had revealed itself to her. She never knew when the Witchhunters may come marching down the dirt paths of the outskirts to go through the households and find her. To say she was on edge wasn't even the half of

it.

Yet as she collected the branches from the trees and ground, she couldn't but feel sad. An emotion she had never felt whilst collecting firewood. Her heart hurt for the shriveling, dry trees. Deprived of their possible green luster and brightness.

The longer she spent collecting, the stronger her feelings became, and with it, a strange tingle. It began like a light tickle in her chest, light as a feather, before it began to spread throughout her body. From her chest, to her shoulders, arms, legs, fingers, and toes. It felt like something was happening, yet she couldn't tell what exactly was going on. It felt right, wrong, and important at the same time.

The last tree she was going to collect from came into view as she placed the stepstool under it, basket secured by a strap over her shoulder. When her hand reached out to grasp a loose branch, the tickle in her body shot out all at once in a burst of energy that had her falling onto the ground on her back. With a groan, she sat back up and felt cold terror go down her spine at the beauty before her.

The tree, once bony and lifeless, was a picturesque sight. Pink flowers sprouted from its ebony branches, petals sprinkling down to touch Ailana's face like little fairies fluttering in the wind. It was dainty, yet strong. Beautiful.

The deadliest show of a nearby Witch that could ever exist.

With her breathing going harsh, Ailana pushed herself up from the dry ground so fast that dust sprouted from behind her and left her with whiplash. She didn't care. Instincts kicking into overdrive, she grabbed her stepstool and bolted from the scene of her crime. There was no

more hesitating she could do.

Ailana needed to go. Now.

Running into her home and causing her father to jump from his chair, she slammed and bolted the front door before breaking down onto the floor and beginning to sob hysterically. Her father stood from his chair and ran to her, picking her up from the ground.

"Lana? Lana, what's wrong?"

Her replies were blubbered and suffocated by her crying. Her words barely sounded like whimpers, leaving her mute save for gasps. Her father took a sniff of the air before his dark eyes went wide in an animalistic way.

"You used magic, didn't you?"

Ailana could only nod, body still shaking and shivering, face covered in her tears and snot.

Her father let out a grunt and shook his head, mind racing. 

"You can't stay here. You have to go, right now." His voice was low, like a growl. "I can smell them coming."

"There... there... there's no time to get to the village entrance."

"Whoever said you were leaving through the village?"

Ailana was thrown over her father's shoulder as he moved in a way she had never seen before. A stone was moved out of the wall to reveal a hidden hole with two sacks inside it, one looking full while the other was empty. He grabbed both of them and began to stuff the empty one with whatever food was in the pantry along with water and a change of clothes. She was put back on the floor and the two sacks were shoved into her arms as her father continued to move about.

Like he had been preparing for this event.

"Dad, dad what are you doing? What's going on?" Her voice was still shaking from her sobbing, eyes red and burning as she watched her father begin to push a bookcase that had always been the heaviest thing in the house aside with ease. Under it was a strange square door.

"Ailana," He never used her full name, never. "I know that you're scared. You're going to be scared and confused and just about every other negative emotion in the world. But you have to be brave, okay?"

Her father put his hands on her shoulders, firm and protective as they always had been. Her rock that she could cling to and would stay routed in place no matter the force exacted upon him. She had the sinking feeling that she'd have to leave this rock in the dust and be unable to see it erode.

"What do you mean? Why do you have all this stuff ready? I don't understand."

Her father gave her a sad smile. 

"I wish I had the time to explain all this to you, but I don't. Now listen here and listen good. In one of those bags is enough food and water to last you a week's long trip. In the other is a journal, map, and other important things you'll need. They were left behind by your mother just for you in case you ever needed it. What you're going to do is-"

"Mom left this for me?"

"Yes, but keep listening. That map is going to help you get to a city known as Seers Spire. You're going to meet your mother's Coven sister there and she'll help you. Do you understand?"

"I don't understand anything."

"I know, I know. But I just don't have the time." Her father looked at her for a long time before getting another sad look on his face. "And I wish I had it. I really do. But for your safety, you need to go right now."

Ailana said nothing as her father opened the square door that had been hidden under the bookcase, revealing a dark pathway that made her feel like she was truly about to go down the path of no return.

At least this path left a chance for survival.

Her father took her into his arms and gave her a hug that made her want to start crying all over again. She knew she didn't have the time to cry nor the energy to use for it. Ailana could only cling to her father with whatever time she had left to see him. She would commit every single one of his features to memory. Something told her that he wasn't going with her and she didn't have the strength to ask why.

"I love you, Lana. I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Dad."

Their embrace was interrupted by rapid knocking against the front door. The Witchhunters had finally reached their house. A shiver went down Ailana's spine as her father released her and lowered her into the dark hole of the trapdoor, surrounding her in only a bit of light from the outside.

As the door was closed, she could only see and hear her father. The sorrowful smile on his face and the words he left her with as the darkness consumed her.

"Be brave. I know you can be."

And then she was left in the dark as she heard the bookcase slide over the door.

Chapter-4: Careful & Connected

Left in the darkness by herself and knowing full well that staying in the hidden passage wasn't an option, Ailana began to walk, although she couldn't see where she was going. It may have been a good idea to light a match or something of the like, but she was scared. What if the light could be seen from somewhere and she was compromised? The terrible possibilities took over Ailana's mind, making the idea of even lighting a match seem like a death sentence.

And so, she walked through the passage, ignoring any sense of claustrophobia and the smell of dry, dusty earth. The only sounds that accompanied her were the sounds of her own footsteps, and even those were terribly muffled by the ground below her. The dust she brought up with every step caused Ailana to cough and wheeze, blurring her already insufficient vision.

Eventually, although it felt like it had been days rather than perhaps an hour or two of walking, the passage began to light up with natural light, sunlight. Meaning that it was coming to an end, even though her journey had barely even begun and she barely had any idea of where she was supposed to go.

The source of the light was at the mouth of what looked to be the remnants of a lake or pond, a crater with dry earth, and nothing else within in. There had never been a body of water near Cecilio as they wouldn't buy jars of water from merchants if there was, which meant she had truly gone a long way. With such a thought, she began to break down again and crumpled to the ground, dust flying up as her body made impact and tears fell from her face. There weren't many for her to cry, as she was terribly dehydrated.

Although reality had hit her long ago, this was the first chance Ailana had to truly let everything set in. She had to flee from the only home she'd ever known, leaving her father behind to deal with her mess, to die because of her, and now she was in the middle of God knows where with only two bags of supplies and herself. She was hungry, thirsty, and just wanted to go home.

Even if there wasn't a home waiting for her.

"Be brave. Be Brave. Dad said to be brave, so be brave." 

Ailana took a deep breath and started whispering it to herself persistently. "Be brave. Go through the bag. Eat, have a drink, and think. Eat, have a drink, think."

Ailana whispered this to herself and had it on replay in her mind and she shakily went through the motions. She went through the bag that she had watched her father hastily pack, finding a jar of water and some dried fruits, jerky, and bread. She decided to save the fruits and jerky since they would last much longer and began to eat the bread and occasionally took small sips of the water. When she finished, Ailana diligently checked to make sure the jar was sealed tight to ensure no leakage would occur before putting it away and checking out the other bag, the one that had already been filled.

The bag was green in color, a lush green that reminded Ailana of the little plant she had made. Untying it and peeking inside, she found it a lot fuller than it originally appeared.

There was a leather-covered book, a rarity, a folded up piece of paper, various bottles with colored liquids within them, and...

Ailana reached into the bag and cautiously pulled out the item. It was a dagger, a surprisingly sharp one for a fact. It looked brand new, the metal of the blade having an unnatural sheen to it, the handle engraved with strange symbols she had never seen before. Yet she felt strangely drawn to them, tracing each one with her finger. Each symbol traced brought a warmth to her hand that slowly spread throughout her body, creeping from her fingers to her palm, up her arm, and into her chest, poking at something she couldn't explain.

It eventually wrapped around that unexplainable part of her, rooting itself deep within in her, although Ailana wouldn't know this until it came to be of use to her.

Leaving the dagger out, Ailana pulled out the folded piece of paper and unfolded it, careful not to tear what likely to be the map that her father mentioned. It was a map just as she had assumed. Although the color on it had faded, the lines somehow smeared away and blurred, Ailana could tell where she was. Apparently, this crater was indeed once a lake, a lake known as Narian Lake. To get to where she was supposed to go, or at least that's what her gut was saying, she'd have to go north from Narian Lake for 3 days. That was if she didn't rest at all.

Ailana let out a deep sigh and decided to rest for now. She'd need all the energy she could get.

[ The End ]