The Witch's Tale

Chapter 4: Water

Once she is home safe in her cottage, Sara allows herself to cry. She undresses, throwing the magnificent dress and it's underpinnings in a heap on the floor, curls up in a ball on her bed and sobs bitterly. She's gone and ruined everything. For the first time in years she has felt passion, pleasure, and she threw it all away. So stupid! She should have....she should have let him...why did she panic? She mentally berates herself long into the night before she finally drifts into sleep, exhausted.

As she slumbers, Papa Emeritus returns to her dreams. No roving hands this time, but rather, he stands before her, hands out, palms open. Behind him, the town of Oakfell burns, and the flames are moving closer.

"We are made for each other," he says.

"Join me, my love. Burn with me,"

The next morning, Sara is staring morosely into a mug of tea, when she hears a knock on her door. Slowly, she gets up to answer, expecting Old Nan, or a woman needing a remedy for cramps, or breast milk troubles. It is neither. It is a Nameless Ghoul. She is only mildly surprised by this, and wonders what he could possibly want.

"I am the Nameless Ghoul they call Water," he says with a short bow.

He is a compact fellow, calm in disposition, but Sara can sense passion lurking underneath. Water is an appropriate name for this Ghoul, and like the others, he is oddly endearing.

"Papa Emeritus sent me to make sure you were alright. He mentioned that you-" Water begins to say before she interrupts him.

"He is not angry? She blurts out.

The Ghoul cocks his head at her quizzically.

"Angry? Of course not. He is only concerned for you. You left the ball in quite a hurry." he says gently.

Sara heart leaps in her chest. He is not angry! Perhaps she can explain, tell him why she panicked and fled. She is certain he would understand if he knew the truth.

"Water, please tell Papa that I will meet with him today. I would like to speak to him, and apologize for any distress and trouble I may have caused," she says.

The Water Ghoul watches her as she steps outside, bypassing him with soft "excuse me,".

She walks over to a rosebush, and using a penknife hanging from her chatelaine, cuts the last of her summer roses.

"Give him this," she says, holding out the red petaled flower.

"As a token of gratitude for his kindness, and...my affection,"

Water nods, smiling under his mask, and takes the flower. He gives her a cheery wave, and is gone.

After he leaves, Sara prepares herself for the assignation with the same gravity with which she prepares for rituals. Slow, purposeful and calm. She must be calm, even though her heart is hammering in her chest, and she is close to fainting.

She fills a basin with cool water and washes slowly and methodically. She dabs sandalwood oil to her skin, careful not to put any where Papa's mouth might make contact. For she is certain that she is going to give herself to him. She's been a virgin quite long enough.

And she wants him. By the Goddess she wants him. She's never desired anyone like this before; whenever she's around him she feels like she's on fire. The Church would tell her that she's feeling the very fires of Hell lap at her skin, but she doesn't belong to The Church. Their words and warnings meant nothing to her.

Sara goes to clothes trunk at the foot of her bed, thinking about these growing feelings for Papa Emeritus. There was more to it than raw lust. There was a potential for genuine affection, and maybe even love. For she had sensed in Papa a tenderness, and she knew intuitively that she could trust him.