In a world where witches demons and criminals run amuck, nothing is as big of an issue as overpopulation.
It was when the sky turned dark with smoke and the crops shriveled in the fields that finally the government decided to do something- but how...
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For as long as Nipolita could remember, the village of the Knoll had always been her home.
It was far away from city life, consisting of farmers and a forest that many found scenic. Flowers, herbs, and rivers clustered every hill and field, the homes of the villagers seemingly perched right on nature's doorstep. Walking to town, one could be sure to find the village children running about, passing Tang Rock candy amongst themselves, and the adults smoking crushed Tobacco while admiring the world with a sour eye.
The buildings themselves were rustic and mold ridden, the wood musky from age but the architecture quite beautiful to look at, with bold looping archways and details finely chiseled by one who loved their work.
Nipolita loved it.
She loved it despite how superstitious the people were, despite how every bloom season rains would pour and pour and raise the rivers till her fields were flooded.
She loved it even when she knew she wasn't safe here, that at any moment someone could stumble into her cottage far at the top of her little hill and find her brewing or babbling to her crows.
The village was currently in the midst of bloom season, the time when color exploded all on the hills, and as expected a constant downpour had brought flooding right to her doorstep. She hadn't been able to save her herbs, but with some struggle built up a thick soil wall to stop the water from advancing onto her melons and carrots.
The rains meant she spent most of her time indoors and so did the other farmers, and thus she could brew in peace.
Softly sucking on some Tang Rock she had swindled from a visiting merchant, Nip swirled a thick wooden spoon around in a bubbling pot. The aroma was burning her nose; something was missing. Likely if she tried to drink this now, she would die gurgling and choking on the ground.
"I need some Tasmin root."
Her voice was quickly followed by a sharp clicking and fluttering, and soon a blackbird alighted onto the windowsill beside her. It's beak tightly gripped onto a patch of roots curling into the shape of a hand, it's smell thick and musky.
"Thank you, Parcival."
As the root hit the liquid, a gentle hiss and frothing was elicited and the strong aroma slowly faded into something almost sweet. A smile graced the woman's lips as she tapped the spoon on the side and set it to her counter.
Parcival squawked as she lifted the heavy metal pot, fluttering into the air beside her. Gripping the wooden handles Of the pot and making sure to avoid her knuckles brushing against the hot surface, Nip sauntered over to her door and bumped it open with her hip, feeling the sudden arrival of goosebumps as cold touched her skin.
The sky was gray, but the clouds looked absolutely beautiful in the sun. The tops of them shone bright gold like far away beacons.
'What a beautiful world I live in.' She thought lovingly.
Setting the pot down, she made a mental note to check back as soon as the clock struck 3. The brew would surely be done, and would be a massive help to chase away the sniffles that plagued her at night.
With a slow sigh, the black haired woman sat down and stroked her thick, coarse curls over one shoulder. The cold was heavy, and slightly unpleasant, but for this view? Nip could tolerate. The only thing she was missing was something warm for her freezing fingers.
Parcival who had flown out after her settled into her lap, a mess of black feathers ruffling around before settling and preening. She reached down and scratched his head and massaged his feathers as well. Another content exhale left her.
The world was muted by the hard crash of rain. It was pleasing to her ears.
She was about to head back inside to settle down with a nice book and red herself of this chill before a loud splashing caught her attention. The source was coming just down the hill, and from a few slick sounds the person was stumbling and sliding in the mud made by the rain. It drew closer, and though Nips eyes were eagle keen the rain cast a visor over who it was.
Leaning forward she narrowed her eyes struggling to make out any defining details, and she even pushed one of her hanging ferns to the side to offer a better view.
Now, while Nip herself stood out with her dark chocolate skin and blue eyes, it had been many many moons since she had seen a sunchild.
Around these parts golden hair was not prominent, and she had never seen someone with it in the village. The color was obviously dulled by the wet clinging to it, but he was sun-haired nonetheless, and very much panicking.
He was scrabbling at the slick earth as he fell yet again looking like a desperate animal, coated in mud and clawing for purchase. It made nips heart drop and pity swelled in her heart. Throwing her cardigan over the bird on her lap just in case, nip watched as the figure started to look around.
It was when his eyes settled on her that she swallowed.
He was young; younger than her. Possibly just bordering on the edge of sixteen where she was falling into the late moons of her nineteenth cycle. There was nothing significant to make note of about him since her sight was impaired. But he looked... hunted.
Soft barking noises were heard and the harsh shouts of men and women. This spurred the boy on to jerk back to the trail and begin his horrible sliding ascent, darting towards the woods. It was then that Nip noticed how oddly dressed he was, how he sported a seemingly hand stitched white shirt and thick leather pants she saw soldiers wear often.
As soon as he disappeared among the trunks of trees a squad of men and women raced up the path. They were all just as drenched as the boy had been but Nip was a lot more concerned about them seeing her, so she let the fern swing back to place in front of her face.
Their faces were contorted into expressions of rage, and as if just on time a patch of clouds covered the sun and brought darkness falling around them all.
Nip knew what this was.
It was a witch hunt.
How horribly ironic that they were chasing after a sunchild when the witch they should be looking for was sitting patiently on her porch, watching this all in an almost out of body way.
She hoped that the boy knew how to run. That he knew how to hide. But when she noticed the bloodhounds that hope fell and a sad grunt left her lips.
"You poor fool." She whispered.
He might get sent to Mount Justice, the stony home of the Villain Initiates. There, he had the chance to survive, if the murderers and criminals didn't get to him first. If he was lucky he might even befriend a top villain and get shown the ropes. If he wasn't, he would be executed and hung here, just like the other accused.
After a loud round of confused yelling and dogs barking, the mob raced away from her home and deep into the heart of the forest. Nip knew they wouldn't stop until he was captured.
She cast a glance at the pot.
The brew had cooled, and even as she stepped inside a cold had settled deep in her bones that wouldn't leave her.
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A/N: hi everyone! So I'm just stopping by to say that I hope you're enjoying the story by far! This is my first episodic book I have ever written, and I hope everyone enjoys it.
I will be writing the first few chapters from the points of view of my main characters, so if you're curious as to why we're sort of bouncing all around this little world I have created, it's for the purpose of setting up the story.
Hold on to your knickers because it's about to get stormy! :P
