Witchy

Chapter 1

Valarie

I run outside into the stable where my horse is. She is a white Lipizzaner with braids. Purple braids decorate her soft mane.

I braided them for her.

Yes, I have my softer moments, but animals are the only ones who have been witnesses to them.

I also love the color purple, so whenever I can put it somewhere, I take that opportunity. Lately, putting that color in random places all around has been the only thing my magic is used for.

I could bore myself to death.

"Okay, Charlie, let's go."

I can't believe I'm doing this.

We gallop together into the pitch-black forest. The moon has cast an eerie glow on the ground.

My ears are ringing, warning me of danger, asking me to go back.

But I can't.

'Cause the human boy needs me.

Where could he have gone?

"Okey, if I were an innocent lost little human... to what stupid place would it take me?"

I don't need to think long; a chilling growl shows me which way the danger is. I turn my head quickly, take a deep breath in, and turn Charlie in the direction I really don't want to go.

As we get closer, a different sound makes its way to my ears. A sound I have been expecting but wished were not true.

Cries for help from the human boy I sent away so mercilessly.

Panic sets in my bones, the familiar voice guiding me right.

I can't be responsible for an innocent boy dying because of me. I had an opportunity to save him, and I didn't.

And then I see it.

A shadowy figure snarling with blood in its mouth slowly creeping toward the human boy, who is shaking on the ground. His face, still puffy from crying, is now frozen in place and fear.

And that figure I recognize. A shadow wolf.

Kitt

I'm face to face with a creature twice my size. The wolf is staring at me, into my eyes with his. It is chilling.

I knew sitting on the floor next to a tree wasn't a good idea, but I didn't know where else to go.

I've never been outside of the camp before. It is not too far away from the forest. My father owns it.

The sound of metal being sharpened, the bonfire cracking, and loud commands given to his men are what I hear day to day.

But I decided to run away.

And look where that got me. It's the first night alone, and I'm gonna die.

But I wasn't meant for what my father intended to do. I wasn't intended for what he wanted me to be.

A soldier.

Fighting in battles, getting blood on my hands. I want to throw up and curl into a ball just thinking about it.

He screamed at me for being too soft and weak. For letting tears coat my face if something went wrong. For not... getting any women.

Nobody wanted me in there.

And if they did, they just used me. They would flatter me with sweet words when they learned I was my father's son, touched me inappropriately because I didn't know how to say no, and then just when I started to believe they actually could like me, they left. Sometimes without a goodbye, sometimes with a poor excuse.