Of Witches and Wolves

The Caves

The sounds of his feet hitting stone echoed as he descended the steps. The chill as he went lower and lower under the castle gave him a thrill. He could feel the suffering from here. When he reached the bottom and opened the heavy, iron enforced door. Only then did the scent of dried blood hit him square in the face. He almost moaned, breathing in the scent deeply before moving forward into the caves. Alcoves covered in bars were barely lit by the torches on the walls. Figures moved further into their cells as he walked by. Even the guards, posted every couple of cells, pressed themselves up against the wall. He looked at each one, daring them to make eye contact. None did, knowing better than to even dare challenge him, lest they end up in one of the cells themselves. 

Down one hallway, there was a scream. It filled him with pride to know his men where doing their jobs effectively. He turned his head, but they were too far down the tunnel to see what they were doing. Pity, he thought to himself. He would've liked to see what caused the wave of fresh blood and fear to crash into his nose. 

He wandered deeper in the caverns, taking a turn here, a twist there. The torches and guards became further and further apart until there was one one torch hanging. He gripped it, continuing his stroll down the corridor. He whisted to himself as  he stopped at a large metal door. Despite his obvious approach there was no scent of fear that wafted out from behind it. It disappointed him, really, but he knew he could easily fix that. Slowly unlocking it, he entered the small room. On the bed in the corner, sat a small woman. She looked frail, her body barely taking up the sack she wore. Her once dark curly hair now white and her blue eyes vacant. The small window in the corner allowed for the sounds of crashing waves to enter the room. The smell of saltwater always amused him. Such a small joy that he craved to rip from her. However, the water is what she drew her powers from, so he allowed it.

He stalked towards her, giving her a sickly-sweet smile despite the fact that she could not see it, "Hello, my dear"

She turned her head towards him, her face calm and blank, "Hello, my lord. How can I be of service today?"

He grinned "I have a few questions that I need answered, my dear. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, my lord" she answered, her voice flat.

He clapped his hands together, "Good! First, is the poison what kills Aric?"

Her hair floated and her eyes glowed as she looked into the future. She hesitated before answering "No, my lord"

He pouted, "Now that won't do." He started pacing the room thinking about what could have changed his course. The answer was different only days ago, what changed? He stopped pacing, "Has the future king leaving affected our plans?"

Her eyes glowed as she searched again at all the possibilities and outcomes that could happen. "Yes, my lord. However, your desired outcome is still in motion."

He clapped his hands together, "Wonderful! That is all that matters isn't it. As long as he's dead then the rest of it can go as planned. Now, you are obviously not at fault for this little hiccup, so I will only cut two days' worth of food."

"You are too kind, my lord" She answered in the same flat voice.

"Now, my dear, I must be going. It has been lovely chatting with you. I shall see you soon." The door closed with a heavy slam as he left the room. His footsteps ricocheted off the walls as he went further and further down the twists and turns away from her cell. She waited for a minute of silence before breaking out into heavy laugher, nearly falling off the bed in the process. She gasped for air as she gripped her stomach. One hand wiped a tear from her eye as she muttered to herself "Oh, he is so fucked."