Winter Witch

Chapter II

Markel returned to the Bounty Hunters' office. He was lost in thought as he approached the desk.

"You have a solemn expression, Sonny. Anything wrong?" The old man sat behind the desk once more, his feet on the top. He looked at Markel from under his hat.

Markel sighed. "It's nothing. Just pay me, old timer. I have somewhere I need to be. I'm in a bit of a hurry."

The old man chuckled. "I understand, young man. Here's your reward." Markel graciously accepted the reward. "I was once a Bounty Hunter myself back in the day." Markel stopped in his tracks. He looked back at the old man who was no longer sitting in his chair with his legs on top of the desk. "I may be old now but trust me. I've seen my fair share of criminals and the like. You, however, are very special. I can tell." Markel looked at the man with disbelief. "I know it's hard to believe. Come back some day, and I'll tell you a riveting tale or two." The old man chuckled again. Markel sighed and walked away. "Yep!" The old man spoke to himself. "This young man is going to go a long way on his journey. I can feel it."

As Markel left the small village behind, he couldn't help save to ponder on the old man's words. Was he really so special of a person? He wondered it himself from time to time, always questioning the reason for his existence. One more question crossed his mind: who was the witch the people of the village spoke about, and how was she connected to the sword he wielded? He was going to find his answers no matter what. He needed to know.

********

The cloaked figure stood in the center of a great hall. She gazed into a glass mirror. The mirror itself was made of ice. She was watching a young man fight a Black Panthorion. She smiled broadly. She was happy. The replay excited her to a point she burst out loud with laughter. Her laugh echoed through the empty hall. She lived alone. There was no one around for miles. She couldn't even remember her own name or who she was. All she knew was the young man in the scene she was watching would be the one to help her regain what she had once lost.

"Come to me, Markel. Bring me back what is rightfully mine!"

********

Markel walked deep into the forest. He knew where he was going. He was headed for the next town over. The snow was heavy and deep. Markel had the strength to trudge through it as if it were only a dusting on the ground.

Branches snapped in the distance. Birds cried out and flew off. Something was drawing near. Whether it was dangerous or not, he couldn't tell. He couldn't get a reading on whatever, or whoever, was approaching.

He stayed perfectly still. Time passed slowly while he waited for it to appear. Finally, after an eternity, it finally did.

A glorious white stag, still seemingly in its youth, broke through the bushes. Its nostrils flared, smelling the air for the scent of the man it could see before it. Markel stood perfectly still. The stag didn't notice any movement, so it slowly walked toward the man standing in the midst of the path. It got close enough to smell Markel. It could tell the man was good in spirit and heart.

The stag's nose moved to the small pouch of food hanging on Markel's belt. Markel chuckled at the sight of the curious creature. Without saying a word, he moved ever gingerly and gently, removing a few berries from his pouch. It was a mixture of different ones. The stag accepted the offering and are.

After a time, the stag backed away slowly. Markel smiled at the glory of the creature before him. Then it ran off, back into the bushes. Markel laughed aloud. It was the first time in years he was able to laugh like that. There was something very special about that stag.

He continued on his journey to the next town. He arrived by the time the sun set completely. Not wanting to scare anyone, he wore a hooded cape to hide his armor and sword. The cape was made of buckskin and was very warm despite how thin the material actually was. Markel even used it for a blanket, wrapping himself completely in it while sleeping within the woods - not that he slept much. He always was aware of his surroundings - something he had learned a long time ago as a child. He even learned to read people's moods through their body language.

Markel's father was very abusive, always beating on him for little to no reason. That's how he learned to defend himself.

Markel closed his eyes. At least something good came of it, he mused.

His mother on the other hand was a kind and gentle soul, always protecting him, which made his father angry in return. Then Markel ran home with the story of how he had seen a witch's spirit and a magic sword. He was sure she would believe him. She turned against him after that.

Markel opened his eyes and glanced around the room. None of those memories mattered anymore. He'd left home at sixteen and never returned. It had been almost fifteen years since he'd left that place - the small cottage at the edge of the woods along a country road long forgotten by time.

The bartender walked over to him, greeting him with a smile. "Ain't seen y' ar'und 'ere 'fore." The man's accent was very thick and heavy. "Name's Cottar. I'm the bartender 'ere. What'll y' 'ave, Sonny?"

Markel gazed at the line of bottles on the back shelf. "I'll just have a mug of ale. Thanks."

The bartender nodded. "I'll 'ave it t' y' straight away." Cottar slapped a large mug of ale in front of Markel. "Enjoy, Sonny."

"Thanks," Markel said nonchalantly in response. He took a sip. The ale was warm and rich just the way he liked it. "Say, Cottar. Is there a Hunters Guild around here at all? I'm looking for something to do."

Cottar thought a moment. "T'ere is a small buildin' jus' a' t'e very edge o' t'e town a' t'e far end. I don't rightly know if t'ey be a guild yo're lookin' for, but y' can always try it. No guarantee t'ey'd welcome y' either."

"That doesn't bother me at all." Markel downed the rest of his ale. He drew out a silver coin from his pocket, flipped it at the bartender who caught it, and stood up to leave. "Thanks for the info. I'll be heading there right away."

"One word of advice, Sonny." Markel turned to Cottar, who had a solemn yet worried expression. "Jus' be careful. Folks 'round 'ere don't usually take too kindly t' strangers."

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." Markel pulled his hood over his head and walked out of the tavern.

He walked to the far edge of town. It didn't seem like the bartender's information was accurate at first. Markel was lost a time or two. Then he came upon an old rundown building. It was in disrepair to the point it seemed to only be held up by a pure miracle.

He gingerly walked up the steps onto the front porch. The door fell open as he went to knock on it. No one was inside and no candles were lit.

So the old man at the bar lied to me. Figures.

A rancid smell reached Markel's nostrils. He quickly covered his mouth and nose with his cloak. He glared into the darkness. Something was moving within its midst. He took one step forward. The boards creeked under the weight of his foot. He swore under his breath as a shadow flew by at the back of the old building and put the back.

His foot fell through the floor as he tried to make chase. "Dammit!" he hollered. He quickly removed his foot from the floor, leaving a giant hole behind where his foot has fallen through. He quickly moved out of the building as he felt it shaking.

The entire building collapsed completely in on itself. It was a close call.

"I'm going to kill that old man next time I see him," Markel whispered under his breath to himself. Instead of heading out to find the suspect who tried to kill him off, he went back to the tavern.

When he arrived, the building was dark, empty and quiet. Markel began to wonder what was happening.

A single raven perched itself upon the roof's tip. It let out a dark cry into the darkness of the night. Markel covered his ears from how loud the cry was.

He ran into the building, searching everywhere for signs of life. There was none.

What in the world happened here? He thought. The building was completely empty - devoid of life and light.

Markel ran out of the building. He ran to others, kicking in the doors and searching the houses and businesses that once were lively when he arrived.

This has got to be another dream! He was growing frustrated with finding no one. He stopped suddenly. A presence was behind him.

A voice stated in a quiet whisper, "This is no dream."