Winter Witch

Chapter I

Markel walked into the Bounty Hunters' office. He slowly walked to the rickety wooden desk situated at the far end of the building. A man was situated in an old wooden chair behind the desk, leaning back against the wall, his feet propped on the top of the desk, and his face hidden by a hat. The snoring resounding from the man indicated he was asleep.

Markel pounded on the desk. The man startled awake, looking around as if searching for what made the god awful bang that dared to awaken him.

"Take it easy, old timer. It's only me," Markel spoke gently. "I came to fetch my pay."

The old man fixed his hat and cleared his throat. "Ahem! I take it you've completed the task then?" Markel nodded. "Hmm." The old man was thinking. "Very well then. Do you have proof?"

A sudden high pitched scream erupted from outside, echoing through the empty chamber. The two ran outside just in time to see a woman on the ground, fear written on her face as she stared into the black eyes of the Panthorion - the same one Markel thought he had killed.

The beast's mouth watered with hunger as it glared at the humans before it. They were a feast to its eyes and stomach. Before  the beast could even make a move, it sensed Markel standing nearby. Its head slowly moved in his direction. When it saw him standing there, it slowly walked in his direction.

The old man was trembling. Markel sighed. "You might want to go back inside, old timer. This could get messy." The old man didn't object at all, instead running away to hide back in his comfort zone. Markel sighed again and looked at all the onlookers. "All of you back inside right now! Be cautious about it, so you aren't attacked!"

A little at a time the people moved away from the street to their homes and businesses. None remained, save for one. A small girl, too frightened to move, stood frozen in the middle of the street. Markel felt it was okay as long as she didn't move, but he also needed her to go home to her parents. To his dismay, a woman came running outside, screaming.

"Savier! Savier! Where are you?!"

Idiots! Markel thought. The Panthorion ignored Markel, only focusing on its ravenous hunger. The mother grabbed her little girl, pulling her to herself. She hid her daughter beneath her, acting a shield to protect her. Her eyes were shut tight. She waited for the impact, but it never came. When she opened her eyes, she saw Markel with his sword raised. He was holding off the beast.

"Th-thank you, kind sir!" she stuttered.

"Don't talk! Just run! You can thank me by staying alive!"

The woman immediately did as she was told and ran with her daughter in her arms back to their home. Just as the woman managed to lock the door on her house, Markel's strength gave way. The beast's claws dug deep into his skin, nearly tearing muscle from bone. Markel wasn't phased. He wrapped it tight, placing pressure on the wound, so it could heal faster. It was one of his traits he was born with. His parents called him a monster and neglected him for it.

Bastard! Just die already!

The Panthorion roared, sending Markel's challenge. It was a battle to the death!

Markel jumped back as far as he could without the possibility of hurting the village or its people. He brandished his sword. The sunlight bounced off the cold steel blade, glinting in the light like ice. The Panthorion roared once more and ran at him. Its gigantic paws and feet thundered against the snow covered earth. It wasn't even phased by the weight of the snow. Markel waited for it to move closer. He waited for the right time to make his counter attack.

Nearby, upon a lonely tower on the opposite end of the village, a cloaked figure watched the battle closely. Their lips were curled in a wicked smile. This man certainly is strong, she thought. If that sword is what I think it is, it will have to be destroyed. If not, all my magic used to resurrect the beast was for naught.

Markel slayed the beast once more. He couldn't understand one thing: how in the world did this beast come back to life after being slain? The wound on his arm wasn't healing fast enough. It continued to bleed, coloring the cloth he used to wrap it in a dark crimson.

Does this beast have anti-magic properties? He thought as he dodged another attack from the beast.

The woman sitting high atop the tower on the other side of the village smiled broadly. It seemed her spell was working. She decided she had had enough fun for one day, dispelling the necromancy with a wave of her hand. She hopped from the tower and disappeared.

Markel was surprised to see the beast suddenly stop in its movements. He stood still, not sure if he was imagining it or if the beast had truly frozen. He held his breath for what seemed like an eternity. When the beast made no motion, Markel cautiously approached. He touched the beast's foreleg. It was ice cold. He unwrapped his wounded arm. The wound had closed completely.

What in Valgar's name is going on?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of people gathering in the village square. They were all muttering amongst themselves. Whispers of the beast having frozen in place with no way of knowing how it happened. The voices reached Markel's ears. He had extremely good hearing.

"The beast is frozen in place! How can that be?" a woman's voice cried quietly.

"Don't be afraid. I'm certain there's a good explanation for it." The man must have been her husband.

"What is that sword he's wielding?" A young child tugged on their mother's skirt, pointing at the blade in Markel's hand.

"I don't know," she whispered in answer. "Stop your pointing. It's rude," she scolded, lightly slapping the child's hand.

A man piped up. "It must be the witch's sword!"

"You're crazy!" another villager laughed. "That sword has been gone, dead and buried for nearly a millennium now! Don't be speaking tales!"

"Then how do you explain the beast being frozen when it should have collapsed in place? How do you explain this man's," he pointed in Markel's direction to his arm, "wound being fully healed without any form of medicine? I'm telling you, the witch is back!"

The crowd of people erupted in a loud argument. Markel sighed, sheathing his sword. He didn't want any part of it, so he began walking away. A hand grabbed his arm, preventing him from leaving.

"That's enough!" a voice demanded. It was deep and thick, full of authority. "What has this young man done wrong?" The crowd went silent. Not one person dare lay blame on Markel. "The beast has been slain! I suggest we all go back to our homes and rest for the night! Tomorrow is a new day!" The crowd gradually left, leaving the square empty and hollow. The man of authority turned to Markel. "I am very sorry for my village's manner. I am Mayor Austurn." He held his hand out in greeting. Markel returned the greeting.

"Markel. I am a Bounty Hunter."

"Why don't you come stay at my home for the night. My family would welcome you with open arms."

It was a nice invitation, but Markel had to decline. He was on a journey and needed to keep going. "I must decline your offer, good sir. There is some place I must be. If you're worried about the cold, don't be. The cold has never bothered me, even as a child."

The man was stunned and disappointed to hear it. He was hoping to learn more about Markel and his sword. "I am sorry to hear that. Please feel free to stop by any time. My home is always open."