“Well, that’s everything.” Verne patted Aalis’ pack. “Need help carrying it to your home?”


    “No, I will take my swag and essentials now and return for the rest later.” Aalis promised. The village was quiet in the light of the new day, the ashes of the fire hiding the warm coals deep in their embrace. Giordi, Judd and Suvau had dismantled the tent and packed it up while Verne made sure the dreadlocked healer had all her belongings separated from the rest. There were only a few villagers about, those that had to rise early to milk the bellowing cows whose udders were full to bursting. Apart from them, everyone else was still slumbering after a late night of drinking, eating and dancing.


    “What about Liada?” Giordi pointed to the grey mare who was nibbling on some tender grass.


    “I do not think I could care for her properly.” Aalis admitted. “Besides, she really was Shela’s friend in Fort Bastil. I think they need to stay together.”


    “I’ll take care of her.” Verne promised then looked to the others as they gathered near Aalis. “Well…I guess that’s that.”


    “Uh…” Caste cleared his throat and put his hand up timidly. “Not wanting to put a dampener on what is probably already going to be a painfully tearful and emotional farewell…”


    “I am ready to do that which I promised.” Aalis nodded. “You will not offend me, Caste.” She waved him forward and he drew the piece of parchment from his vest, stained with monster blood in nine places. He rested it on the little chest he had collected almost all items of proof of monster kills within. Aalis took a small knife from her boot and removed her gloves. Her dark nails were alarmingly stark against her pale skin as she used the knife to prick her thumb.


    Judd was trying to look casual about the whole transaction, as if he was just waiting to be proved right. She had stopped hiding her nails on the journey back while in the company of friends. Judd had reasoned that it was a staining of some sort, possibly from all her herbal preparations. He felt a thrill run through him as Aalis bled red, not green. His chest puffed up with air and he watched with confidence as Aalis pressed her thumb to the parchment in the circle that lined up with the word ‘witch’.


    For a moment they all held their breaths…


    …then the blood reacted with the pigment in the parchment designed to identify deformed monster blood and turned a deep shade of purple.


    Caste sighed. “Well…there it is.”


    Aalis nodded as Judd looked between them.


    “No, the other circles are blue…it’s not the same.”


    “Witch blood is not the same as monster blood. The parchment has been treated accordingly.” Caste said quietly. “The reaction is well within the reaction limits.” Judd’s heart sank as Caste looked at Aalis. “I’m sorry.”


    Aalis smiled. “It is as I have always said.”


    “I do need…” Caste wiggled his fingers at her. “Proof of the kill.”


    “Of course.” Aalis untied her knotted dreadlocks and shook them loose. She took the knife and cut one free from underneath at the very back. She rubbed her thumb on the end of it, the blood staining the silvery white dreadlock with its crimson hue. “Will this do?”


    “Perfectly.” Caste took it, opened the little chest and tucked it inside.


    “Then, there is nothing left to do but say goodbye before you lose anymore daylight.” Aalis looked at Verne and put her arms around him. “Thank you for being my confidante and friend.” Verne hugged her awkwardly but sincerely and looked like he was swallowing down his emotion. Aalis turned to Giordi. “I am sure that one day, I will be hearing many Gavoli originals sung around the campfire, commonly known and deeply appreciated.” He chuckled and nodded, embracing her. Aalis looked at Suvau and sighed. “I am so glad my ignorant fear of you did not stop us from becoming friends.” Suvau put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Caste,” the red headed cleric looked up almost anxiously, “I hope you find fulfillment and peace in your beloved Order.” He licked his lips and nodded as she turned finally to Judd. “Judd…”


    “Thank you,” he said, interrupting her flow, taking her hands in his, “for having faith in me and putting it into practice time and time again.”


    Aalis bit her bottom lip as he kissed the tops of her hands, rubbing his thumbs over them.


    “You are more than welcome.” She stepped back, drawing her fingers out of his grasp to pick up her pack. “Travel safely and look after each other…and thank you for all the memories.” She gave Judd one final glance before she drew her pack onto her shoulder and headed out of the village.


    The five remaining souls watched until she disappeared between the trees, the forest consuming her within seconds. Slowly each one of them turned and looked at Judd who made a single step in the direction Aalis had gone as if waiting for her to come back.


    “I’m sorry, Judd.” Giordi said softly.


    They watched him as he lowered his head, shaking it…then he turned to them and held up his hands.


    “Wait…just one moment…just…”


    Without finishing his thought or intention, Judd spun on his heel and sprinted after Aalis, jumping over a fallen tree, following a faded path, feeling the atmosphere of the forest deepen around him.


    “Aalis!” He cried, seeing her grey gown sweeping ahead. “Aalis, wait!”


    “Judd, please go away.” She said, not turning to look at him.


    “Make me,” he yanked his shirt out of the grasp of a clingy branch and jogged in front of her, “and know that I won’t be fooled by your witchy tricks this time.” Aalis folded her arms and looked to the side. “Come with us to Astaril.”


    “You are making this so much harder on both of us.” She muttered.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    “I don’t care!” Aalis pushed past him and continued to walk so fast she was almost running. Judd matched her stride. “Aalis…come with me.”


    “When will you listen to reason!” She cried. “I am a witch, confirmed by the Order!”


    “So?” She huffed at him. “Suvau is a Maul and I want him by my side. He isn’t a monster and neither are you.” Aalis shook her head, refusing to stop. Judd batted leaves out of his face, the forest seeming to sense an unwanted visitor and throwing every stumbling block and face slapping branch into his path. “Things need to change!” He darted ahead of her, blocking her way, forcing her to stop.


    “You cannot take on the world’s problems alone. You told me that and you were right!” Aalis argued, her alkaline features sharp and pained. “You need to have wisdom in choosing which battles to fight. A single witch’s life does not compare to the lives of hundreds of Mauls.” She struck her chest. “My presence would only serve to discredit you. They will say I have manipulated you, that you are in my thrall…”


    “I am,” Judd said brokenly, “but not out of witchcraft, but out of love.”


    Aalis closed her eyes and turned aside. “Judd…”


    “And I know what you are going to say, that you and I made a vow and though it hurt me to hear it,” Judd took her hands and brought her about to face him, her eyes opening like she was wincing at a bright light, “it is important to honour such promises.” Aalis swallowed, sensing he was not finished. “But you have done as you vowed, helping me succeed on my quest and I have fulfilled my part of it, returning you to your village.” He licked his lips and stepped closer. “So let’s make a new vow…”


    Aalis looked at their hands together and shivered. “For a moment, pretend that we did make a vow to be together,” Judd held his breath, “how would you ever know, for certain, if I wanted it or was compelled into it?” She peered up at him and his good natured, kind face that had become so familiar to her. “When will you accept my word as you did Suvau’s in accompanying you to Astaril?”


    Judd licked his lips. “Aalis…I can’t lose you. I can’t bear this ache in my heart of being in love with you when I know…at least I hope, you are in love with me too.” He lifted her hands and kissed them, pressing his cheek against the back of them.


    Aalis swallowed hard. “Judd…it is not just I who need you to go…you need to leave me.” Judd shook his head. “You need to go to Astaril and meet people and be knighted.”


    “No…” He whispered brokenly.


    “You need to fall out of love with me…and give me the chance to do the same with you.” His brown eyes lifted and met hers as she stroked his cheek. “Please…Judd…”


    She drew back from him and slowly, carefully, she walked around where he stood in the middle of the path, heading deeper into the forest. She did not look back and she did not slow until she was gone from sight. Judd looked at his hands, empty and forsaken then walked in the direction he was facing, out of the forest into the village. He strode past the others, grabbing his pack and heading for Xenon.


    “Where’s Aalis?” Giordi asked softly.


    “She’s not coming.” He said angrily, his heart hurting so much he thought he might snap in two. He put his foot in the stirrup and swung himself onto Xenon’s back. “Come on, we’ve wasted enough daylight.”


    He didn’t look to see if they were following him. He simply left the village, mustering a small wave to Klin and Anto who had risen to see them off then turned Xenon’s head towards Astaril.


    The hut was a mess of spider webs and the cave it was butted up against had a layer of dust over everything. Aalis put her pack down and immediately picked up her stubby straw broom. She chased away the spiders, apologising for dislodging them then collected all their webs in the broom. She shook out what she could from the cave and swept it as clean as possible. She knew it would take time for it to become the liveable, homey nook she had once found such comfort in.


    If only she could find it now.


    Aalis caught sight of her nails and sighed. She shook her head, knowing there was no one to hide them from now. Not that she had bothered for the past two weeks. However, not even that display of witch-like attribute had dissuaded Judd.


    She closed her eyes and mentally kicked herself for thinking about him again.


    “You said it. You meant it. Now you need to look after yourself.” She said sternly and arranged some sticks and a few larger branches to build a fire. All her water pouches were empty so she gathered them and went to the stream. At its edge she knelt, remembering the first time Judd had seen her and she had seen him. Not striking perhaps in appearance and certainly na?ve and inexperienced…but she had immediately liked his sincerity and hope.


    Aalis realised her lips were curling up at the corners and forced them down.


    “Stop it.” She snapped at herself. “It is over.” She hauled the pouches out of the stream and carried them to her cave, hanging them from a hook and using their contents to fill her pot. As she looked about, reacquainting herself with her isolated existence, Aalis spotted the animal skulls hanging like a demented mobile. She smiled and gave the string a tug, the jaws of the skulls clattering as if the dead of the forest were hungry for blood. And at her feet was the stain on the ground where she had made a puddle of fake blood that he had stepped in.


    How Judd had run in terror from her horrors. She had scared him witless, even with her dramatic death throes in terrible spasms and foaming at the mouth.


    But he had come back. He had been frightened in the moment but after it had passed, he had looked at it in a new light…and looked at her without any fa?ade or pretence covering who and what she was.


    Aalis huffed. “No pretence?”


    She sighed and leaned against an oak tree, feeling salty tears well up in her eyes. She hated feeling this way. She hated how he had made her feel and she hated that he wasn’t around to make her feel it anymore. She was alone, forever in this forest, the mad witch of the north, Dragoslava, the demented and insane.


    Aalis turned and pressed her hands against the tree, knowing that she was more isolated than ever. Her nails were damning proof. Even if people looked past her dreadlocks and slightly unusual apparel, her nails screamed ‘witch’, condemned for something she had never had a choice in and that she would give up if she could.


    Her forehead pinched against the bark, Aalis’ nails digging into its surface. She could feel rage rising, frustration at the life she had been dealt, a ball of resentment building in the pit of her stomach, churning like she was about to vomit. Every hateful, sleepless night she had endured while the thoughts, words and deeds of others wound endlessly through her mind returned to her, the loss of her mother, her brother, the loss of everything she knew, the face of her tormentor, her whole world crashing down, splintering like a broken mirror until she was a thousand distorted versions of herself, all screaming to be heard.


    Aalis did not realise she was screaming until she heard the tree crack. The entire trunk ruptured beneath her grasp and she staggered backwards, dragging her hands out of its surface, looking up in horror as the great oak tore in two as though a giant had grabbed both sides and pulled it apart. Birds fled in alarm, getting away as quickly as possibly as the leaves began to curl and wither, the branches blackening and the whole tree started to die.


    “No, no, no!” She cried grasping it. “I am sorry! I am so sorry!”


    But no matter what she did, she could not stop the deathless march of decay and in less than a minute, the entire tree was a lifeless husk.


    Aalis put her hands over her mouth, filled with a horror she had only felt once before. It was a vile tasting revelation that, whatever the reason for her abilities, they were capable of killing. She looked down at her hands that had only ever tried to heal. And what should have been of great comfort was a sickening blow when she saw that her nails were clean and clear.


    She had poured the toxin of the stain into that poor tree.


    She was cleansed.


    It was dead.


    And Aalis was alone.


    She tucked her arms around herself, sniffing like a child, almost crying out for her mother to comfort her. But there was no one…


    …until she heard a twig crack behind her.


    Aalis’ heart leapt and she spun, Judd’s name springing from her lips.


    But it wasn’t he. As Aalis’ eyes widened and she readied herself to flee, a sharp pain filled her mind and as she dropped to the forest floor, struck from behind.


    And then there was nothing.