by Dana Gricken
“Hello there,” Aria began, loudly. “I don’t suppose you’d let a witch past?”
The Senior Knight ignored her question. “What are you doing outside the Veil? We don’t want your kind out here.”
“Let’s go,” Tavia said quietly to the witches behind her, as they rode silently past the Knights.
The witches were afraid to breathe or make any sudden movements as they snuck by, refusing to take their eyes off of Aria. The Knights were fully distracted and everything was going according to plan – so far, anyway.
“You know, I was just wondering... does it get hot underneath that armor of yours?” Aria asked, desperately trying to keep the Knight’s attention all on her.
“Get off of your creature, witch,” The Senior Knight demanded, clearly unfazed by Aria’s attempt at socialization.
Meanwhile, the witches were only a few feet away from passing the Veil without detection. Just a little farther now...
“If you insist,” Aria replied, retreating slowly off of the creature. Her eyes quickly darted to the others and then back again.
“I’ll ask once more,” The Senior Knight began. “What are you doing beyond the Mystic Veil?”
“Can’t a witch engage in a little conversation?” Aria responded, playfully. “Why so serious?”
Almost made it...seconds away from reaching the other side...
Suddenly, the Senior Knight lunged forward and bashed the handle of his sword against the side of Aria’s face. She fell to the ground, crying out in pain.
“I don’t like being mocked!” The Senior Knight replied as he began to repeatedly smack his handle against Aria’s face. “Why can’t any witch around here answer a simple question?”
The witches watched in horror as their leader was struck. They wanted to help, but they feared being caught. As blood began to trickle down her face, everyone wondered what to do. Elara could sense Tavia’s self-control was dwindling as she reached for her staff. They were so close to freedom...
“Tavia...” Elara warned quietly, but it was already too late to reason with her.
“Mother!” Tavia wailed, gripping her staff firmly now.
The three Knights turned around in surprise and anger, now directing their swords at the group of witches. They couldn’t believe the group had almost slipped by.
“Witches, trying to escape?” The Senior Knight asked, huffing. “They tried to trick us! After them!”
Panic broke out as the Knights quickly approached the witches. The Senior Knight retrieved the whistle-pipe that hung around his neck and sounded it. It emitted a loud, piercing noise that could be heard for miles. It looked like a warning signal used to call attention to other Knights who were patrolling the surrounding area.
Elara watched in disbelief as everything happened so fast. Some witches flicked the reins of their creatures and rode through the Veil to safety, while others stayed behind and contemplated what to do. The Tiburon’s bucked and roared, clearly distraught by the situation.
Tavia jolted her creature forward, which knocked Elara off in the process. She fell to the ground with a loud thud, before shielding her face with her hands so she wouldn’t be crushed by the feet of the startled creatures. Tavia didn’t notice, and if she did, she didn’t look back.
Aria had managed to pick herself up and get back on her creature, but the Senior Knight turned back around. Raising his sword as she passed by, he stabbed his weapon with great force through the neck of Aria’s animal. The Tiburon collapsed, whimpering out in pain, and Aria fell down with it. Tavia rode towards the Knights, casting a magical wind that knocked them off of their feet.
“Come on!” Tavia bellowed, before she lent a hand to help her mother get on the back of her creature.
Aria’s eyes filled with tears as she silently said goodbye to her dying animal, before accepting Tavia’s hand and climbing up on her Tiburon. Her animal was too injured to be saved, and they couldn’t waste any time. They rode towards the Veil before the Knights could recover, just as more armored men and women turned the corner with their weapons drawn.
Elara struggled to stand as she watched the events unfold. She couldn’t even see Aria and Tavia anymore, and the Tiburon she was supposed to ride through on was long gone by now. She realized she was stranded. It wouldn’t be long until the Knights caught up to her, and they’d most certainly kill her on sight this time.
Just as the other Knights approached, she felt herself being lifted up by a nearby witch. She held onto the back of the creature tightly, as the rest of the witches around her rode to safety through the strange fog.
“Take it easy. You’re safe now,” A male voice said before he too instructed his Tiburon to ride through the Mystic Veil.
DAVID CABALLERO SIGHED to himself quietly as he entered The Golden Flask, a bar near the Markets. He hated this place. It reminded him too much of what he had lost.
In private, Hadrian had told him a contact would be meeting him at the bar – an undercover male witch looking to make his way back home to Andora through the underground tunnels. David was asked to make sure he returned safely and soundly. He wanted to get this one right – to not have it end as badly as it did the last time when he ran into a witch. He didn’t have much luck with magic users.
He was dressed casually, hoping no one would recognize him. Time was ticking, and the hunt for Elara was growing more desperate every day. The King had ordered all of his Knights to look for her, day and night, and it was becoming quite tiring and tedious. It was a relief for him to be doing something else – even if it were against the law.
David took a quick scope of the crowded bar as he entered, locating the small room in the back, hidden behind a curtain – exactly where Hadrian had told him to go. There was a passage in the backroom of the bar, hidden underneath the floorboards that only a small few in the New Dawn knew about. If that information was made public, their whole organization would be placed in jeopardy. Hundreds could die.
As he made his way through the bar customers - trying not to be distracted by the rowdy drunks or the clanging of glassware - a pretty waitress walked over to him, with a smile plastered across her face.
“Can I get you anything, love?” She asked, with a strong English accent.
“No, thank you,” David responded, politely.
“Suit yourself,” She replied, before sauntering away back to the bar with a sway of her hips.
He forced his eyes to look away from her and scolded himself. “No time for that now, David. Focus.”
He felt a presence behind him and turned around to see his older brother, Aaron, staring at him. He was swaying gently, clearly dazed from the booze he had consumed. David blamed himself for his brother’s alcoholism. If he had made better choices, would his brother still have suffered the consequences?
“David! How good it is to see you!” Aaron said, slurring his words as he waved his drink around carelessly in his hand.
Some of the alcohol slipped out of his glass and fell onto the floor as he belched. David sighed, hardly believing this was once a promising Knight. David’s shame couldn’t bring him to look Aaron in the eyes.
“Hello, Aaron.”
“What brings you to this fine establishment?” Aaron mumbled, stumbling as he tried to balance himself on a nearby chair.
“I’m meeting someone here,” David said, although he felt a tinge of guilt for not wanting to spend time with his brother. “It’s really important. I’m afraid I can’t stay and chat.”
David opened his wallet and removed a few bills worth around a thousand dollars. He handed it to Aaron, and the drunkard accepted it in surprise.
“Take this money and do something worthwhile with it, Aaron,” David said, earnestly. “I mean it. Turn your life around.”
“Are you sure this isn’t just you trying to get me to keep your secret?” Aaron asked, hiccupping.
David winced at the accusation. “Take care of yourself, Aaron. I have to go now.”
<
br /> He walked over to the curtain – finally free of distractions - and took a quick look over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. When he pleasantly found that everyone was distracted either by the booze or the pretty waitresses, David entered.
The room was quite small and plain, with a few boxes in the corner. He looked down at his feet to see the witch – fitting the description of the one he was supposed to meet – dead, in a pool of his own blood. David cursed himself, as memories flashed through his mind of things that he’d do anything to forget. Not again, David thought. What have I done?
“I’m really sorry about this, Sir David,” He heard a familiar voice say behind him. “Well, maybe I’m not. This is your fault, after all.”
He turned around to see Prince Fergus approaching with a group of well-armed Knights. Suddenly, he was struck in the head by a nearby Knight and everything faded to black.
The Mystic Veil
Passing through the Mystic Veil was an experience that Elara wasn’t prepared for. She felt like her entire body was overwhelmed with a tingling sensation as they rode through. After the fog of color surpassed, Elara looked back to find herself staring into her own eyes. Much like water, the Mystic Veil reflected whatever was in front of it. It was impossible to see out, and more importantly, in. It acted as a force field which prevented the Grey Knights – and any other unwanted guests - from entering the magical land of Andora.
Elara faced forward, finally able to see clearly, and realized she and the other witches were welcomed by a large forest clearing that divided into four paths. Unlike the cities in Nerennia, the paths weren’t guarded by any gates. Elara tried to see what was down each direction, but numerous trees and other shrubs blocked her view.
The witches chose the path farthest to the left without hesitation and rode in silence throughout the way. Elara had a million questions but decided they could wait until they reached their destination. As they delved further down the pathway, the trees began to change into a deep red color, until the whole forest became a sea of crimson. Up a little farther was another clearing, with a large community of hundreds of small homes that went on for miles.
At first glance, the homes appeared to resemble tents but were much different up close. They were spherical and spacious and were designed with petals that made them look like lotus flowers. Their hues of blue, white and green contrasted against the red forest they were in and glowed from the inside out. Lanterns hung off of the nearby tree branches and were used as beacons that illuminated the way to the camp. Various markets and food vendors were set up across the city, and a large campfire was smoking in the center of the town.
Witches are no different from humans, Elara thought, as she watched the little witch children play hide and seek and other various games, while the adults chatted and walked around the city. When they noticed the witches approaching, they all diverted their attention to them. As if she knew they were coming, an elderly woman exited one of the homes with a cane. She walked slowly and hunched over, with a warm smile on her face. A pet blackwing squawked on her shoulder before flying off into the clouds.
The witches yanked on the reins of their Tiburon’s and came to an abrupt stop. The male witch that was in front of Elara got off of his creature first, and then gently grabbed her waist and helped her down. He was young and handsome and looked more human-like than his other witch counterparts.
The elderly woman watched Elara closely from across the city. The Tiburon’s were left to roam freely near the barns, but they didn’t stray very far. Elara looked over and saw Aria and Tavia bickering about something.
“They do that a lot,” The male witch said after he noticed she was staring over at the two. He held out his hand. “I’m Jordaine Neharti.”
“Elara Everly,” Elara replied, shaking his hand. “You know, I’ve never had a non-human want to shake my hand before.”
He laughed, and his emerald green eyes twinkled with delight. “I’m not technically a true-born witch. I’m what you call a ‘converted witch’. I was a human who was adopted by the tribe as a child after my parents passed away. I was taught how to use magic and I learned the ways of the witches. There aren’t many humans who want to become witches anymore – because of King Angus, no doubt.”
“So, where are we, exactly?” Elara asked.
“We’re in Deniva. It means ‘City of Red Trees’. It lives up to its name,” Jordaine said, as he glanced up at the red ash tree they had stopped underneath.
Elara looked over Jordaine’s shoulder and saw Aria, Tavia, and the elderly woman talking about something. Every few seconds, they would glance over at Elara. She saw Tavia huff and pout at something her mother had said, before stomping off into a nearby home. Jordaine had continued to babble on; so lost in his conversation that he didn’t even notice that Elara was distracted.
“Anyways,” Jordaine said, finishing whatever he was talking about. “Does Tavia ever talk about me?”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Elara replied. “Why?”
Jordaine blushed slightly and smiled, running his hands through his curly brown hair. “No reason, really. I was just wondering.”
Elara noticed Aria motioning for her to come over and join the conversation.
“Excuse me,” Elara said politely, before walking over to join Aria and the elderly woman.
“I’m glad to see you made it here in one piece,” Aria remarked, before sighing. “I apologize for my daughter. She was supposed to ensure your safety, not mine. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if it weren’t for Jordaine? It’s my fault for asking her to take on such a big responsibility.”
“It’s all right. If my Dad had been in your position, I probably would’ve done the same thing,” Elara said, before gesturing towards the bruises on Aria’s face. “Are you okay? We all saw what that Knight did to you.”
Aria touched her face gently, wincing at the contact. “It hurts, but I’ll live. I’ve certainly been through worse. Such things are the life of a witch.”
“I told you I would heal those wounds of yours,” The elderly woman chided, as magic particles pulsated around her.
“I appreciate it, Sheba, but I want to keep them. They’ll remind our people of the threat we face,” Aria replied, grimly. “Where are my manners? Elara, this is Sheba Imani. She’s the shaman of our tribe.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sheba,” Elara replied before Sheba placed a loving, wrinkled hand on Elara’s arm.
“Likewise, my dear. I have heard much about you.”
“I’m so sorry about your Tiburon, Aria.”
“Thank you, Elara. I’ll miss my creature dearly. I suppose we all have to make sacrifices in this world.”
“The Knight that hit you - I’ve seen him before,” Elara replied. “He was the one who discovered the mark on my arm after he almost killed Tavia.”
“I can’t tell them apart. They’re all bloodthirsty to me,” Aria replied, before sighing. “I don’t know what I’ll do with that girl. I asked her why she left Andora, and she wouldn’t give me a straight answer!” Aria leaned in closer to Elara. “Tavia’s nineteen – you’re around the same age, aren’t you? Maybe she’d feel more comfortable confiding in you. Could you find out what she was doing?”
“I guess I could try. She might not open up to a stranger.”
“You’d be surprised. I think she really likes you.”
Although no one had said anything, the stares from the nearby witches were beginning to feel uncomfortable. Aria noticed the tension as she glanced around the city.
“Well, I should tell the group what’s going on. Join me – they’ll be eager to meet you,” She said, before walking into the open field and whistling sharply.
The witches stopped what they were doing and focused on Aria. Tavia poked her head out of the home she’d settled in to hear what her mother had to say.
“I suppose you’re all wondering about our new guest, yes?” Aria gestured towards Elara, who s
hyly looked around at the sea of eyeballs staring at her. “The legend is true – the Dragonwitch is alive and here with us right now.”
Aria gently lifted the left sleeve on Elara’s shirt, showing off the marking. The crowd erupted with cheers as if they truly believed Elara was some hero. Despite this, Elara felt like she didn’t deserve the applause. She hadn’t even done anything. What if she wasn’t who they said she was? What if she couldn’t live up to their expectations?
“She’ll be staying with us for the day. Please, do whatever you can to make her feel welcome.”
Aria ended her speech and the witches got back to their previous activities. No one made a fuss or started an argument, unlike the advisor who made his disapproval of Elara abundantly clear. Elara was grateful that the witches were more accepting.
“Now that that’s taken care of, you should speak with Tavia. I’ve asked her to take you somewhere important,” Aria told Elara before she nodded, and walked off to find the young witch.
THE INSIDE OF THE LOTUS hut was cozy and welcoming, and Elara felt right at home. In the corner was a small wooden shelf full of odds and ends – mostly of herbs, dusty books on spellcasting, and oils and candles. Tavia sat on a single bed which hung from the ceiling, near a blazing fireplace. A small, fixed window was the only source of light into the home.
“Sorry to disturb you,” Elara said, as she entered the home uninvited. “But Aria wanted you to take me somewhere.”
Tavia sighed. “Yes, I know. She didn’t tell you where?”
Elara shook her head.
“Good. It’ll be a surprise.”
A sudden silence fell over the room. Tavia stood up, nervously fidgeting with the purple crystal around her neck.
“I’m not really good at saying what I feel, so listen up,” Tavia said suddenly, and Elara nodded. “I’m sorry about before, with you falling off Tilda and all. I was just afraid for my mother. She’s all I got, you know?”