Witches Don't Burn, Silly

Shitty Dad Gang?

Ten years later

"Oh my, Mariposa, look at how gorgeous you have become." Penelope runs a hand through my hair. "I can't believe I haven't seen you in ten years!" Penelope had left the town, Glorious Beginning, in order to gain an even higher degree of education so she could further the development here too.

"Thank you." I smile gently.

"I heard about how your dad has become so successful with his idea of burning witches!" She tucks a white lock of hair behind her ear while I hide the wince that her words have brought to me. "So, why are you out here doing garden work when you have plenty of house servants to spare?" She looks at me critically.

"This is my personal garden, ma'am." I fidget with the basket in my hands. "The other grounds are taken care of by someone else but these are mine. I find the work relaxing."

She waves her hand in a dismissal gesture. "No, that simply will not do! Women as beautiful as you should be going to balls and dancing with young suitors. Not working away in a garden!" She huffs and pinches the bridge of her nose. "What are you even doing out here?" She asks.

"I'm gathering herbs for tea." I sigh as I look down at the various herbs I have collected.

"I see, dear. That does seem like a waste of time for a girl such as yourself." She huffs. "I will go talk to my husband about this! He will find balls you can go to outside of this town and find yourself a fine suitor. Honestly, what was your father thinking?!" She turns and starts to make her way back. "You are only twenty for so long."

I sigh and relax when Penelope is finally out of my garden. I kneel next to my rose bushes and inhale the relaxing scent before I start pruning them.

"Mariposa?" My skin prickles and the hairs on my arms stand on end. I stand up quickly and look at my father.

"Hello, father." I bow with my eyes to the floor. I didn't want to look him in the eyes. "Is there anything you need?"

"I need you to stay in the manor today." He pauses to take a drag from his pipe. "I will be going to a witch burning along with most of the village. So, the market will be closed today. You won't have any reason to leave the manor that way."

"Who is burning?"

"Mareline." My breath catches in my throat. "You two were close when you were younger. I hope you weren't associated with her witchcraft."

"But, father, Mareline isn't a witch!" I look up into his eyes and wish I never did. I stumbled a step back. The other residents of this village looked at him in awe. He was their savior. But I saw the madness that had grown in him. It made his eyes strained. They were an even colder blue than they had been when I was young. They were bloodshot and nothing could hide the dark bags around them.

"Do not argue with me, Mariposa!" He raised his voice. "Mareline is an evil creature! She will be burned at the stake just like all the other witches we have discovered!"

"Father! What if all these women you have burned are innocent!?" Tears welled up in my eyes but I didn't let them fall. "Just think for a moment! How would fire be the answer to  killing witches? We have seen them use fire in history books, father!" His eyes and nostrils flare with anger.

"Do not argue with me! I am your father and what I say is law!" He grabs the front of my dress before shoving me into the ground. "Do not forget your place, Mariposa." He runs a hand through his thinning hair. "Do not leave the manor, or the contract I made to start your bakery will be null."

Then, he stormed off and I glared at his back as tears streamed down my face. What kind of father threatens their daughter's dream? Mine, apparently. I continue to cry softly as I keep working on my garden.

There's a rustling noise and something jumps out of the bushes. I let out a shriek and raised my hands to protect my face. A sickening pop fills my ears. I open my eyes and see a terrified gecko staring at a small flame. My heart beats erratically in my chest. I look at my hands. What on earth?

I try to stop out the flames before it eats up my garden. I burn the edge of my dress and shriek as it almost burns my hand. Another pop and the fire grows. No. This can't be right. I grab my bucket of water and quickly dump it on the fire. I flop onto the ground in exhaustion. Where did that fire come from? I started to relax and the tiny gecko climbed onto my lap. I stroked it as my heart began to slow.

"She was a witch!" The words that Margaret had said the day my mother had run away rang through my head. An icy coldness watched over my bones. A witch?! Was I a witch? My heart started to pound harder. I thought of the fire and this time, two small flames appeared in my palms. Instead of red they were a soft purple.

I look down at the little gecko in my lap. His eyes glowed with the purple fire. He looked at me and tilted his head. "This is very bad." I tell the little gecko. I close my hands and the fire disappears. I take a deep breath and try to stay calm. The last two times I panicked I ended up setting fire to the garden.

I pick up the gecko and he crawls up onto my shoulder. It was comforting, having a small animal so close to me. I lift up my basket of herbs. I rush inside and start making a calming herbal tea.

I take small sips of it as I sit on the floor of my room. I dip my pen in the ink and press the tip into an old unused journal. The gecko rolls around on my floor. I scribble down my thoughts. I think that the magic sparks with strong emotions and flares out uncontrollably. Maybe that's how mom was exposed. So far I know that I can use fire. I put down my tea cup and try to make the fire again. It comes easier this time. I extinguish it and right down that using it increases the easiness of summoning it.

"What do you think, little gecko?" The gecko stares at me and tilts its head. "Do you think that if I practice it will become stronger and easier to control?" It nods and I laugh at the gesture. "What should I name you?" I run my hand on the gecko. "Sally?" The spotted gecko wraps around my finger. "Sally it is."

I close the journal and shove it under my bed. I stand and make my way to my bathing chamber. I summon the fire again as I wait for the bath to be full. How long can I hold the fire? I sit down on the sink counter. I hold the flame for as long as I can. My hand starts to tremble after ten minutes. The room starts to sway. I extinguish the fire and exhaustion washes over me. I slide off the counter. I look at my complexion. 

"Oh lord." I grumble. My eyes were the same soft purple the flame had been. "That will give me away." The purple fades back into my normal warm blue, quickly. I sigh. At least that isn't a permanent effect.

Now that I think about it, my mom's eyes never changed color. She must have had very good control over her magic and emotions or, maybe, there are different types of witches. I wished my mom was here to help me through this.

I undress and climb into my washtub. I need to write down my new discoveries. I can only hold the flame for ten minutes. When I reach my maximum ability I get fatigued. The room spins and I start to shake when I reach my limit. My eyes change colors when I use magic. I lay back into the warm water and close my eyes for just a minute as the severity of the situation washes over me.

If I am discovered...my father will be the one to end my life.