The Witch's Retribution

Chapter 50

Basil left the royal chambers as soon as he was certain he wouldn't be missed. The new parents' voices followed after him. "How long do you think it will take for Father to give me the crown now?" Liam asked softly, a certain amount of worry in his voice. "You did say I would have to become a father first."

Lily laughed. "Whenever you stop looking so terrified every time I hand you the baby."

Basil shut the door, successfully ending his eavesdropping. "I take it everything went well?" Joseph asked. The knight was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, and must have been there for hours. He wore no armor, but his sword had been strapped to his belt as a precaution. The rest of the corridor was empty, and for once, the entire castle seemed asleep in the glow of early evening.

"Yeah. They named her Ryleigh." Basil replied, stretching his arms over his head and wincing at the sting of the scratches that littered them. He brought his arms down. "I have another niece."

"And a few more injuries."

"Well, yes, but they're all minor." Basil stared down at his scarred hand, the dark burn standing out startlingly against his pale skin. The cut from his dagger had faded months ago, but he supposed the burn never would. Not when it was caused by iron.

"I wonder if one day, we will be able to share in their joy." Joseph mused quietly, almost wistfully, breaking into Basil's thoughts.

"One step at a time." Basil replied as he walked to the window. "Honestly, the idea of someone calling me their father is terrifying."

He froze as he stared down into the courtyard, still wet from the spring shower earlier that morning. His eyes remained fixated on the two figures standing in dark green cloaks, powerful symbols shimmering both along the fabric and painted on the faces that peered up at him. The druids rarely ventured from their tiny forest kingdom, but there they were. It sent a chill through Basil that had nothing to do with the lingering winter frost on the window.

"Is something wrong?" Joseph asked.

"No." Basil said as the druids turned and left the kingdom. "Nothing at all." No one else, not the guards at the gates or the passing servants, seemed to notice the two mysterious figures. Basil wished he hadn't. They carried with them a foreboding cloud that had him glancing back at the royal chambers, suddenly worried that their newly acquired happiness wouldn't last. He had hoped it would.

***

Xan picked up a few stray papers that had fallen from the table and returned them to their proper place. The news of the royal baby had spread like wildfire throughout the castle and town. Soon, they would host a banquet in Ryleigh's honor. Lily had insisted they wait a few days so she could recover in peace and enjoy her new motherhood.

He straightened a few vials, some empty, some not. "I bet she's going to be a handful." Xan said to Eldon who sat at the table in the corner, a candle flickering beside the potion he had been mixing. He had declared the baby "as healthy as an ox" before returning to his chambers to finish up some work. Now the sun had dipped below the horizon, and Xan knew they could both use a good night's sleep. "I heard she stung Basil with her magic several times already, and she's not even a day old."

He stopped his tidying and frowned at his uncle's quiet and hunched form. He unrolled his sleeves as he crossed the chambers towards him. "Eldon?" He saw the closed eyes and shook his head fondly. "If you're going to sleep, you should move to your bed. Isn't that what you're always telling me?"

He reached out and grabbed Eldon's shoulder, giving it a gentle shake. Xan froze when the action didn't rouse him and shook harder. "Eldon? Uncle?"

The shoulder felt cold as did his skin when Xan's fingers brushed his throat, searching for a pulse that wasn't there. He took a step back in horror, realizing for the first time that his uncle had not moved at all. Not a single breath. He covered his face with his hands, feeling panic and terror overwhelm him as he called his uncle's name again. "Please wake up." He murmured as the flickering candle died out, leaving him in the dark. "Please, just wake up. Don't do this to me."

***

Four horses crunched across a frozen wasteland, their riders barely visible under their heavy cloaks and woolen hats. The leader, white flakes gathering in his dark hair, stopped as one of the bundled riders rode up beside him. "You're certain this is the right way?" The leader asked.

"Of course." The second man pointed into the swirling snow, towards a range of mountains nearby. "Just continue on this path until you reach the mountains. There's a secret tunnel that runs underneath them. Should be easy to find if you have magic."

"Very well." Isaiah turned to the man with a dark grin, inky tendrils flowing from under his cloak. "I suppose that means you've outlived your usefulness then."

The man barely managed a choked scream when the Dark Magic wrapped around him, crushing the life from his body. He fell into the snow with a sickening thud, and his horse raced off into the brewing snowstorm. Isaiah looked down at the body with a look of great contempt. "You, of all people, should have recognized a traitor when you saw one." He turned back to the other two riders. "Come on, men!" He shouted over the screaming wind. "Let's go gather our army."

As they departed from the frozen kingdom, Isaiah stared off towards where he knew Mercuri laid. "Celebrate all you like, my dear children, but next time, you will not live to tell of your victory. I do hope you're taking good care of my son. I'll return for him soon enough."

***

Castor woke with a start as the wind rattled the windowpane in his new chambers. He crawled out of his too-large bed, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders as he went to the window. Outside the clouds were dark and heavy with a coming storm. Torches flickered in the town below, and the child stared at them with a sort of longing he had never felt before.

The people in the castle, his supposed family, treated him kindly as if he belonged with them. He didn't want to tell them that he missed his mother or ask when she would be coming to get him. If she was coming to get him. He stared at the scar on his hand, the one an iron blade had dealt him, and watched as his Dark Magic slithered over it. Inky black and with a darkness he couldn't understand yet.

The door behind him rattled as the window had, and he turned to see it creak open, his magic fading. He suspected the people of the castle wouldn't be too pleased if they saw him using it despite their own magic that seemed to be used at every whim. His felt forbidden. The woman from before, the one who had cradled a baby in her arms during their first meeting, stood in the dimly lit corridor, a candle in her hand.

"Did the wind wake you?" She asked kindly, and he nodded. "Don't you worry. Nothing can hurt you here."

"Can you really promise that?" He asked softly, not really meaning for her to hear.

She blinked at him. "Of course I can." She stepped into the chambers and knelt before him, one of her warm hands cupping his cheek. "We're your family, and family protects one another."

"But..."

"Even if you were lost to us before. You're here now, and we're going to keep you safe. Okay?"

He nodded. "Okay."

"Come on. Let's get you back into bed." She set her candle down and helped him onto the bed, tucking the blankets securely around him in a way his own mother never had. "Try to get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning." She placed a kiss on his forehead, picked up her candle again, and left the chambers.

Castor pulled the blankets tighter around himself as a streak of lightning lit up the room, reminding him of his fiery mother. He missed her, and the tiny house he had been born in. He also missed the stories she would tell of his father. But perhaps he could learn to like it in the too-big castle with its too-big bed and its too-kind people. His mother had always said he was a prince, so perhaps this was just something princes went through. His eyes closed as he burrowed farther into the silk sheets, the woman's words still ringing in his ears.

"We're your family, and family protects one another...even if you were lost to us before."

As the storm outside grew stronger and rain pelted at his window, he made a silent promise that he'd never be lost again.