Witch

The Stroll

In his dream, it was a pleasant morning in his home. His home wasn't necessarily his, nor was it any of his brothers. It was a small orphanage that they still lived in, though the youngest brother was the only one bound to the place by the age requirements. The dreamer and his brothers had been sitting upstairs in their small room, whispering to one another. They had been called down for breakfast with the other kids, but had left and started walking in the street. There was a group of children playing with rocks on the side of the street, and one of the brothers said "Hey, Lukas, Emil, we should play with them."

And so, they did. The brother who had said this was Arnesen. Lukas looked around at the children and his brothers after playing with the children for awhile and stood up. Arnesen protested, but Lukas remained standing. "I'll be right back, I was just going to go and get some more things for the kids to play with," he stated and began walking away. His brothers were not actually his brothers. Emil was, in fact blood-related to Lukas, but Arnesen was not. However, he was close enough to Lukas and Emil that they simply identified to him as a brother.

While Lukas was going to get some new toys for the children, he was taking advantage of an excuse to get away from the watchful eyes of parents. He knew that if he made one mistake, he would be at the stake and be burned alive. He had already been inspected for witchcraft due to his inept hobby of talking to "imaginary" friends. If he said that his friends were real, just that only he could see them, and not to mention what his friends could do, he would be taken in and executed.

Lukas sighed as he turned the corner, walking down a path less traveled on. As he placed his feet one in front of the other, he smiled softly to himself. He watched how the leaves from the tree branches towering above his head danced in the summer wind, casting dappled shadows to fall onto the stone ground ahead of him. A bird called out in the distance and leaves created that ruffling noise that can only be heard on a summer afternoon, all accompanied by the smell of warm wind carried over by the river next to the path as it brushed against Lukas's skin. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, enjoying the peace that warm afternoons like those could bring someone.

As Lukas's eyes closed, the memory shifted to another day in the same place, but in a much older setting than that of before.

Lukas was now revisiting the earlier years he had spent outside without either of his brothers. Emil had been separated from Lukas and Lukas had not yet become friends with Arnesen. He had been playing with a small worm, putting leaves and sticks in front of it to make it change course. He talked softly to the worm, and as he looked around to see that no one was around, he began to talk to Troll. Troll was exactly what his name describes, but his color was green and his personality was gentle. Troll really was just an extension of Lukas, but very real to him. Only those who possessed the ability to see mystical creatures were able to lay eyes on Lukas's Troll, only those who were born with the curse of witchcraft.

Lukas smiled to himself softly as he began to speak in a hushed tone to Troll. It was at this time, however, that Lukas had not been paying attention. Lukas hadn't noticed the small pack of boys only older than him by a few years approaching where he sat. Once in a close enough proximity, the leader of the pack bent down, picked up a sizable rock and flung it at Lukas. Lukas dodged only just in time to avoid being hit squarely in between his eyes by the rock, Troll disappearing immediately. Lukas looked at the pack and began to stand up but he was already too late; rocks were being flung every five seconds, half of them colliding with their target.

Lukas, instead of standing up, curled up on the ground in a position that protected his head, stomach and ribcage from damage. He felt each rock his his back and spine and winced at the thud of rock on flesh. What made it slightly worse was that some of the rocks had sharp and jagged points on the sides that split through Lukas's shirt and cut small lines into his back, which left blood pooling around the edges of the cuts. Eventually the gang of boys decided that they were sick of throwing stones and simply came up to him and began kicking him. Lukas kept a painless face, knowing if he showed pain they would start to take out even more anger on him.

Unfortunately for Lukas, he had not noticed the river that was just around the corner, but the group of boys had. They bent down, grabbed his beaten body and picked it up so that his torso was off the ground, his legs dragging behind. Lukas, at this point, had given up. He didn't resist these boys at all as his bare feet scratched against gravel and stones, nor did he protest when he was thrown into the river. In fact, he let the water swirl around him without fighting at all, hoping that if he sunk long enough he would die. The water sent searing sensations throughout Lukas's body, making the experience all the more painful. Lukas shut his eyes as he felt himself fall deeper, relaxing his entire body and feeling completely prepared to die.

Suddenly a hand grasped his wrist. Lukas opened a single eye to see who it was, but was quickly brought above the surface. Confronted with fresh air, Lukas fell to his hands and knees and coughed up a decent amount of water and a bit of blood. Lukas looked at the boy next to him, obviously the one who had basically saved his life due to the new and unfamiliar face and helpful appearance. This boy reached out and touched Lukas's shoulder gently.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Lukas merely looked at him with a mix of emotions-gratitude and yet anger, confusion, and suspicion. The other boy seemed to have noticed this, and so instead of waiting for a response he took Lukas's hand and led him out of the knee-deep water they had been in.

The boy, Lukas noticed, had light blonde hair that stuck up in random places and bright blue eyes. His height was taller than Lukas's by at least five inches, and from the hand gripping Lukas's hand, it was obvious who was better fed. Lukas knew that the boy's clothing was nothing to brag about in modern society, but compared to his own torn and ripped apparel, the other boy would have looked as though he belonged to the upper classes.

Lukas shivered as he was exposed to more and more of the cold air, which the other boy did not let go unnoticed. "You need to find a place to stay the night," he stated, pausing a bit. "I'm sure she will not mind." After this he took off his own damp coat and wrapped it around Lukas's shoulders before leading Lukas anywhere else.