Mistress Cursed

Chapter 4: The cat in the woods

Silas, heart still pounding from the encounter, when he continue walking but then he realized that he was already at his doorstep. He hadn't even noticed the familiar path through the woods, so engrossed had he been in the strange encounter. The cat, still perched on his chest, seemed to purr with contentment, its warm, soft fur a strange comfort against his skin.

He felt a pull towards the cat, an inexplicable urge to care for it. It wasn't just the relief of discovering it wasn't a threat, but something deeper, something almost magical. He couldn't explain it, but he felt drawn to the creature, its eyes like glowing embers seeming to hold a secret he couldn't decipher.

Silas went inside, the cat still clinging to him. He felt a sudden urge to bake, a desire to create something comforting and delicious. He pulled out his finest flour, the one he reserved for special occasions, and began to knead dough, the cat watching him with an intense gaze. He added a touch of honey, a sprinkle of cinnamon, and a pinch of his grandmother's secret ingredient, a blend of herbs that always made his bread sing.

As the bread baked, filling the cottage with the aroma of warmth and spice, Silas felt a sense of peace he hadn't known in weeks. He broke off a piece of the freshly baked bread and offered it to the cat. The creature, usually wary of strangers, eagerly devoured the offering, its purr a rumbling symphony of contentment.

Silas watched the cat eat, a strange sense of connection growing between them. He felt a kinship with the creature, as if it understood him in a way no one else ever had.

Morning came, and Silas awoke to the familiar silence of his cottage. He looked at the bed, expecting to see the black cat curled up at the foot, but it was empty. He searched the cottage, calling out softly, but there was no response. He stepped outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sleek black form in the morning mist, but the woods were silent. The cat had vanished without a trace.

Silas felt a strange pang of disappointment. He had been so relieved to discover the shadowy figure was just a cat, and he had found a strange comfort in its presence. Now, it was gone, leaving behind only a faint memory of its presence.

He stood for a moment, gazing at the empty woods, a sense of mystery lingering in the air. The cat had come out of the shadows, startled him, and then disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. It was as if it had been a figment of his imagination, a fleeting moment of fear and relief.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the lingering unease. It was just a cat, he told himself. But even as he walked back into the cottage, he couldn't help but wonder if the cat had been a sign, a warning, or perhaps even a guardian, sent to protect him from something he didn't yet understand. The black cat, with its glowing eyes and silent presence, had left an indelible mark on his memory, a reminder that even in the darkest of woods, there were still mysteries to be unraveled.

ELARA sat on the rooftop of the castle, her fingers tracing the outline of a cat in the painting before her. It was a simple sketch, really, but it held a lot of meaning for her. The cat was black, sleek, and graceful, just like her. Beside it, she had drawn a man, a handsome man with the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. He had grey hair, a touch of silver that made him look even more distinguished.

A smile touched her lips as she remembered their encounter in the woods. He had been so scared, so ready to fight, but she had been so careful not to reveal her true form. She had used the spell, the one the witch had given her, to transform into a cat, to hide her true identity. It was a spell she was forbidden to use, a spell that could consume her, a spell that could kill her. But she had done it anyway.

She sighed, a wave of guilt washing over her. She had been reckless, selfish. She had enjoyed his company, his kindness, his gentle touch. She had wanted to be close to him, to feel the warmth of his presence. But she had forgotten the consequences. The power of the witch's curse was growing stronger with each use, and she could feel it pulling at her, consuming her.