The Dragon Witch

Chapter One

Arakhne Sreiyr had never known peace. 

At least, not the peace described in books. The kind where one is quiet, warm, and comfortable. Surrounded by a warm blanket and an even warmer hearth, sipping tea. Watching a cold wind blow from the comfort of a soft feather couch. Listening to the birds singing an eager mating call in the early days of spring, where life finds hope. 

Where mating turns to love, and then children. 

And then after that is a different kind of peace. A peace amongst the chaos sown. Muddy puddles. Loud laughter. Sometimes tears, but sweet kisses afterwards. Ups and downs, like a bird that had drunk too much rum. There is no more quiet, but there is more love. 

Love. 

Pushing wavy black hair out of her eyes, Arakhne inhaled, surveying the woods that surrounded her. Hunting for eyefoot mushrooms was impossible, but they were her favorite, and created the most delicious soup. If she had love for anything, it was eyefoot soup. 

But the small, speckled mushrooms loved to hide under fallen leaves. That was the way they grew best: shaded, and close to something larger than themselves. Eyefoot mushrooms would never be found in a sunlit field or cobblestone city. 

Which was good, because Arakhne would never be found in those places either. 

"There you are," the girl said jubilantly, kneeling down near a fallen log and scooping up a small collection of the precious fungus. "Don't you look beautiful?" 

Of course, the mushrooms did not respond, but Arakhne didn't mind. She pocketed them, and then straightened with the intent to return to her home, had it not been for catching sight of a small pair of eyes peering at her.

Much to her surprise, it was a lamb. A female. As white as snow, and incredibly young, the tiny sheep stared at her before emitting a weak bleat. 

Leaping into action, Arakhne made her way to the animal, her voice shaking nervously. Surely a farmer would look for her? Surely there was a nervous mother? "Where is your mama, little girl?" she asked, holding out her hand so the lamb could sniff her. "Where is your shepherd?"

Of course, like the mushrooms, the lamb did not respond, but she nuzzled Arakhne's hand softly, leading Arakhne to immediately believe that she was, indeed, a domesticated lamb, and not a wild animal - as if it would have much chance of survival in the woods in either case. 

"We need to find your mama," Arakhne whispered. "I'm sure you're hungry." She cuddled the exhausted lamb for a moment, her mind racing as she tried to figure out a way to get the lamb home again. 

There were no farms nearby, as far as she knew - and she knew those woods by heart. Every tree, every stone, every leaf was memorized fully. There were few other places in her life that she had been able to wander - and so the woods were her home. 

But a lamb, in the middle of the woods, with no farms in sight? So odd, Arakhne thought sadly, holding the lamb close, and then stood. "I have milk at home," she said thoughtfully, "but I'm not sure I could carry you the distance."

At that moment, the sound of a snapped twig ripped through the air, and Arakhne flew to her feet, turning towards the sound and brandishing her only weapon: a dagger that was adorned with silver and gold. 

Shouting was heard before the shouters were seen. "The witch! We found her!" 

"She took the bait!"

Over the hill nearby rushed a dozen or so men, armed with bows and clubs, and Arakhne staggered away from the tiny lamb, tears pricking her eyes. 

Another trap. 

"Kill her!"

"Sanctuary!" Arakhne screamed at them, holding out a palm, feeling magic rippling through her fingers. "I claim sanctuary! This is my land!"

One of the men moved closer, scooping up the lamb and holding Arakhne's gaze. His eyes were furious. He felt threatened, but also empowered, like a single swipe of his sword could slaughter his most hated enemy. 

"This is the king's forest, and we hunt here too, demon!" one of the other men screamed back at her. "Get out!"

Tearing away from the crowd, Arakhne felt her tears fall, and she wrapped herself tightly in her cloak. 

Rynsae linfe, she thought pleadingly as arrows began to pierce the sky. 

And she became invisible. 

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Her home was, in essence, not much of a home at all. An abandoned cider mill from centuries ago, it became overrun with weeds as the forest grew around it, and, as it sank into neglect, Arakhne had found it and moved in. Using her magic, she kept a small psionic curse around it so that anyone coming across it would be too terrified to come closer. That curse of fear, as it was called, served the young witch well, and enabled her to live her simple life, albeit far from civilization and friendship. 

The people were becoming more creative with their tricks, however. Heartbroken, she locked her small front door behind her and removed her cloak, thinking of that lamb. She had to have been so terrified, to be ripped from her mama and placed as witch bait. 

Monsters, Arakhne thought, tears pricking her eyes again as her mind echoed with the weak bleating of the lamb. All of them are monsters. She paused, then fished in her pockets and took out her eyefoot mushrooms. 

At least I got the mushrooms. A small solace.

Heading over to her tiny fireplace, she placed a pot over the flames, filling it with broth, carrots, and onions. As she added the mushrooms, however, the room became dark, as if a shadow had encased the sun. 

Raising an eyebrow, she went to the door, peeking outside. The woods, too, were as black as coal, as if the sun had decided to cease existence altogether. It was more than the mere shade of a cloud - this darkness was omnipresent. 

Her magic called to her, faintly. Look up. 

She headed outside, her heart pounding, and obeyed, looking up at where the sun should have been. 

A howling wind enveloped her before she could see anything, and she backed up a little, clutching her shawl around her shoulders, but realized quickly that she was hearing the...flapping of wings. 

Her jaw dropped, her pulse roared in her ears, and her magic trembled as an enormous black dragon - not seen in the Kingdom of Rhilion for a thousand years - settled himself down amongst the trees, shattering any branches that got in way, and stared at her with bright, fiery eyes.