WitchHunter ✔️

Faith

Ace

The beam of light from the small circular window catches the dust floating through the air when I roll over. It's grey light, still early morning. I should go get Hale. I sit up. Hale Arsen knew my mother. Hale Arsen was there when I was born. Too close. Far too close. It's as if he's invaded my personal space. He's too close to me. And yet, it's almost comforting. I never let anyone close, but now he is and there's nothing I can do about it. It's almost nice. But dangerous.

A knock sounds at the door to the broom closet. I spring to my feet. Who knocks at a broom closet, unless they know I'm in here? Who knows I've been living here? Calla?

I cross my arms over my chest; the morning is cold, and I don't want the proof to show on the front of my thin shirt. I open the door and light from the chandeliers casts in.

"Mornin', Acie." Graham's tall form smiles down at me.

A smile makes its way onto my face as well, despite the cold. Graham is a little bit like sunshine, I think. He is warm, inviting, like honey. Just his presence feels homey.

"Morning. What's up?"

His hands are stuffed into his front pockets, his brown trousers tucked into tall leather boots. "Come hunting with me? Before the sun rises too much?"

Hunting. Graham and I used to spend mornings like this hunting all the time, until about a year ago, when Cruor appointed him his right hand man, and Graham became less and less available. "You haven't used a bow in over a year." I tell him, teasing.

"Seems like a good reason to start again."

I chuckle. I want to. I miss Graham. I miss being able to be myself with someone. "I- I'd love to, Graham." I shove my own hands onto my pockets. "But I can't leave Hale. Velius wants us attached at the hip now."

Graham's face falls, just slightly, but he keeps the smile. "What, is he in there?" He leans sideways, looking over my shoulder in jest.

"He slept in the room with the backwards door."

Graham scoffs. "And you allowed him to? Oh the horror, Acie."

I roll my eyes. He knows of my aversion to superstitions and bad omens better than anyone. "Don't make fun of me. I'll slit your throat."

"Come on, Acie. For as long as I've known Hale, he's never gotten up before sunrise unless he has somewhere to be. We have plenty of time."

I think it over. It's true. Hale probably won't be up for another 3 or 4 hours. That's plenty of time to ride down to the forest behind the farmland and shoot a deer or two.

Graham's expectant face shines down at me.

"Alright, fine, but we have to be fast. Does the stable boy know we're coming?"

I stand in my stirrups, leaning low over Crow's neck as we race down the road through the farmland below town. The crops have long since been harvested, the normally green fields all brown and waterlogged. The grass outside the crop plots is bright green, fed by the recent cool rainfall we've had during the nights. I allow Litty and Graham to catch up to me, riding shoulder to shoulder, flying down the path and into the woods, just like the four of us have done so many times before.

I can't help but sneak a glance over at my friend. He is so staunchly different from me, with his golden hair, on his golden horse. Even his hunting clothes are pretty, his white shirt stainless, like that of nobility. We're like the sun and the night, riding together like this. We couldn't look more like we don't belong together.