The Choice: The Forgotten Tale Book 2

The Witch Finder (Part 1)

Warning: Violence and death of a child ahead. You have been warned.

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Morgana's POV
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Walking down the cobblestone road. I couldn't help but grimace at the pain and suffering littering the faces of my people. Watching a woman shiver in the cold. With nothing but a thread bare dress and a torn pair of sandals. Knowing that just one of my necklaces alone could feed and clothe her for a year. It kills me inside.

Especially knowing that if I were to offer her money or any kind of help. Uther would have her arrested in a heartbeat for enchanting me, because how could a noble woman ever want to help someone out of the kindness of their heart.

Learned that lesson the hard way after giving a suffering commoner one of my ruby necklaces when I was 8. Only for her to be accused of theft when Uther found out. Even with my insistance that I gave it to her. Uther still proceeded to have the guards drag her to the town square before cutting off her hands for stealing. He made me watch as she bled to death in the square. Gauis forbidden from helping her. I still hear her screams in my nightmares. I shivered at this. Banishing the horrible memory before it could haunt me again.

Wrapping my cloak tighter around myself. I hurry along. Hoping to get back to the castle before I do something stupid to get someone killed. I am just passing a seemingly empty stall in the market when the heart wrenching sounds of sobs reaches my ears.

Hesitating and looking toward the castle. I wonder if I should pretend deaf and keep going. A distressed whimper a second later dashes that plan before it could fully form. Sighing. I cautiously approach the sound. Peeking around the stall to see a ratty little child no older than 6 sobbing away. Its the moment I see his face that I recognize him as the child of that poor mother who was executed a week ago for magic, that I doubt she had.

Poor baby must have hid out here from his dad to grieve. No doubt he rejected his dads comfort. Biting my lip and wondering what I can do to help. My eyes land on a small torch to the right of the weeping child. Smirking at my idea. I quietly move farther into the shadows. Pulling up my hood to hide my face before stretching out my hand. Whispering the words I have seen Emrys whisper in the druid camps so many times during my visits. I watch in satisfaction as the smoke from the torch begins to change. A horse and eagle appearing among the smoke.

Seeing it from the corner of his eye. The boy slowly lifts his head. Staring wide eyed at the moving images in the smoke. Taking it up a notch I push my magic a little more. Changing the eagle and horse into a dancing bear wearing a dress and tiara. Even going so far as to change the color of the dress in the smoke every few seconds. From pink to green, to red, to yellow. Before changing it to an image of prince Arthur arrogantly strutting down a smoke road before having him trip and land with his butt sticking up in the air. His crown atop his bottom. A rosy blush plastering his face.

All while this is going on. I am silently praising my self as I notice his tears have stopped. His gaze transfixed upon the rapidly changing images. Thinking he is in awe of the pretty pictures. I smile. Making the images more ridiculous as I attempt to gain a laugh from the adorable child now pushing himself to his knees. When he shakily reached his hand out a moment later. I had the smoke reach out and encircle his hand. As if giving him a handshake. I admit I expected sounds of delight, or even a little giggle. His reaction a though shatters that delusion.

"AHHHHH MAGIC!!!" He screams snatching his hand back and leaping to his feet. Pointing terrified at the smoke. Drawing attention from the passing villagers. The moment they see my smoke images the screams of terror fill the market. Within seconds it became a mad house. People screaming and running in horror. Pushing and shoving in their panic to escape. Not caring who gets hurt in the process.

Yet instead of the crazy villagers. My gaze focuses on the frantic man fighting his way through the crowd.

"TIMOTHY!!!"

"DAD!!" The little boy screamed joining the fray as he attempted to run to his terrified dad. Only for tragedy to strike. I watch in a horrified shock as the boy is pushed to the ground by a frantic commoner. Before suddenly he is being trampled by those running by. By the time his dad and I manage to push through the crowd to him its too late. He has stopped moving. His little face covered in blood. No breath rising from his pale lips. Eyes closed never to reopen.

The grieving fathers cries fill the market as he gathers his still baby into his trembling arms. Silencing the crowds panic and creating a circle of horrified villagers around him.

Trembling from the destruction I just caused and unable to wipe the terrified eyes of the now dead child from my mind. I spin on my heels. Racing back to the castle. Tears of horror and regret streaming from my emerald orbs.

How could I be so foolish.