Chapter 27

Xisa sat quietly within the building Songbai had led them to, wondering when the elder witch would return and hoping Morg and Maisha were okay. She had tried to follow after her friend when the young witch had initially run off, but Morg had disappeared into the dark woods before Xisa could see which direction she had gone, and Baigu had almost immediately started herding Xisa back indoors. The wooly wolf herself had then set out for Morg, but returned soon after, alone.

Xisa hadn’t thought anything of that at first, assuming that Baigu had simply lost track of Morg and so headed back. But the white wolf seemed on edge, circling the interior of the little building and casting odd glances towards the rafters along the ceiling every now and again. Xisa glanced up when Baigu let out a low growl, her yellow eyes flashing as she stared up at the ceiling. Xisa followed her gaze, half convinced that the wolf had gone mad. Until then she saw the pair of dark eyes staring back at her.

Xisa backed toward Baigu, never taking her eyes off whatever it was hiding in the rafters.

“WOOF!” Baigu suddenly barked, causing Xisa’s soul to momentarily leave her body in fright. The creature in the rafters suddenly lunged, its body diving towards them before swooping upwards and silently flying outside through a small hole in the roof.

Ahhh… It… it was just an owl, Xisa thought as she let out a breath of relief and sank to the ground beside Baigu. She turned to give the wolf a look, almost wishing she had a folding fan to whip out and bap Baigu on the head with.

Scaring me like that over a mere bird…

Baigu let out a soft whine and rested her head on Xisa’s shoulder apologetically before creeping off to resume circling the interior of the one-room building. As the white wolf continued to wander about, Xisa pulled Yuzan out from under her shirt and cupped the little frog against her chest, feeling a dull sense of comfort from his little webbed feets and speckled green skin. Yuzan wriggled his way up to Xisa’s face and splayed his body across her cheek, as if trying to give her a hug. Though her body remained tense and her mind anxious, Xisa felt her heart calm a little at the action and sank into the wall behind her.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, Songbai had finally reappeared with Maisha in her arms. As soon as the elder witch entered the room, her dour expression twisted into one of alarm.

“Where’s Morg,” she snapped, her head swiveling, searching for the missing witch. Xisa scampered up to her mentor.

“She… sh-she.. She…”

Xisa bit her lip in frustration at her inability to get all the words out. Taking a deep breath, she tried again.

“She left… for her father…”

Songbai’s jaw clenched and her brow furrowed as she stooped to set Maisha down.

“Keep yourselves hidden here, I’ll…” Songbai trailed off, her gaze turning to Baigu as the wolf slunk up to them. The elder witch’s eyes narrowed.

“Then we can’t stay in Cyewen,” she suddenly said, as if addressing Baigu. Hoisting Maisha back up, Songbai quickly drew a symbol on the door and ushered everyone through. Xisa squinted as she walked into a warmly lit forested town, immediately recognizing it to be Baile Cailleach.

“Baile Calleach is a ghost town now, but remnants of its old protection formations linger in certain areas,” Songbai explained as she hurriedly led Xisa to a small hut not unlike Maisha’s. “It will be more efficient to build off of that than to start anew.”

Songbai gently set Maisha up against the weathered wood of the hut’s interior.

“It’s better not to waste mana on this, but it seems that I don’t have another choice” she muttered to herself, taking out her folding fan and snapping it open. In one swift move, she slashed the thin edge of her fan against her palm as if it were a blade, causing a thin stream of red to trickle down her wrist. She then circled the interior of the hut once, dripping blood onto the floor and muttering incantations that Xisa couldn’t quite make out. The elder witch then stepped outside and did the same thing around the hut’s exterior.

“These spells do very little to actually protect against an attack- they’re more so meant to keep you hidden and undetected,” Songbai instructed in a low tone as she walked back inside and began drawing Cyewen’s symbol on the door. “So don’t go outside until I get back. I shouldn’t be long.”

As soon as the elder witch finished her sentence and opened the door to Cyewen, her body warped and shifted into that of an owl, and she flew off into Cyewen’s dark morning like a silent shadow. The door rattled shut behind her, leaving Xisa huddled between Baigu and Maisha.

Xisa glanced down at the unconscious witch beside her, worriedly investigating the burnt patches of skin and clothes riddling her body.

So… there was a fire. I hope Morg is alright. Maybe I should have gone after her. If she’s hurt and I could have prevented it… Xisa let out a sigh, prompting Baigu to shuffle closer and rest her head on Xisa’s lap.

Well, what could I have done anyways? I would have only made the situation worse, the young witch lamented as she absentmindedly stroked Baigu’s fluffy head.

I hope they get back soon.

*

“I didn’t mean to… I didn’t… we can fix him, right? We have to go back and fix him, we have to-”

Xisa poked her head up above the windowsill at the sound of Morg’s voice just in time to see Songbai knock her on the back of the neck, rendering the little witch unconscious. Xisa scampered up to the door as Songbai entered the hut with Morg in her arms, the mingling scents of blood and smoke immediately assaulting her nose.

“What…”

The words Xisa had tried to force out of her mouth all retreated back down her throat at the sight of Morg’s sorry condition. Dark red blood covered her back and legs, dried and caked to her skin in some places while still dripping unceasingly in others. Where her clothes weren’t scorched and blackened by the fire, they were soaked in that very same dark red, rendering the fabric a completely different color than it was before. The swollen and discolored lumps of flesh at the end of her arms hardly looked like hands anymore, the bright blood and yellowish liquid seeping from them making them look slick and toxic.

Xisa took several steps back and swallowed the bile rising in her throat.

“Don’t worry,” Songbai suddenly said as she sat down the girl in her arms. “Most of the blood is not her own.”

Though the sight and stench were both making her feel nauseous, Xisa couldn’t seem to take her eyes off her friend.

Even if most of the blood is not Morg’s… her hands are definitely… definitely…

Xisa turned her head away and retreated towards the nearest window, shoving it open and sucking in a deep breath of fresh air. By the time she turned back around, Morg’s hands had returned to their usual size and color, all indications of burns having completely disappeared. Xisa hesitantly walked up to Songbai where the elder witch was crouching over Morg, avidly concentrating on healing the cracked and dried skin peeling from her face. After a long while, Songbai finally leaned back and let out a sigh. With a strained smile, she gestured for Xisa to sit next to her.

“Morg still has a handful of minor external injuries, but nothing too serious. Maisha could use some healing as well, but it will just have to wait. If I let my mana reserves get too low now, we’ll be in trouble if someone unfriendly finds us.”

Xisa nodded in understanding as she sat down, though who those ‘unfriendly someones’ Songbai spoke of, Xisa was unsure.

“What… what happened?” the young witch managed to ask after a while of silence. With a gentle smile, Songbai reached out to pat Xisa on the head before realizing her hand was covered in dried blood and grime and retracting it in mild disgust.

“A group of ill-intentioned clergymen seem to have found our little island town. It seems like Morg’s father had somehow gotten involved with them… though I’m not exactly sure how he managed to break Maisha’s silencing spell. At any rate, that little group of men captured our little Morg and…” Songbai grimaced. “Well, she must have lost control of her power again. Her father… didn’t make it.”

Xisa looked at Morg’s sleeping form, blood and soot still smeared across her clothes and face, making her look somewhat pitiful even though her wounds had more or less been healed.

Well. He probably deserved it, Xisa found herself thinking as she recalled the sorry state her friend had arrived in.

“I should have… tried harder to stop her…” Xisa said quietly, her expression shifting into a slight frown.

“No,” Songbai sighed, “If you had followed her and both gotten caught by those men, the situation could have turned out much worse. What has happened has happened. It’s in the past now. In the end, it was those clergymen who caused this, not you. Don’t blame yourself.”

Songbai placed a comforting hand on Xisa’s shoulder, causing a bit of the crusted blood on her palm to slough off onto Xisa’s shirt. The young witch fought the urge to wriggle away.

“Ah…” Songbai frowned, removing her hand from Xisa to stare at her palm in annoyance. “There’s a well out front. Why don’t we take a walk and collect some fresh water to rinse off with.”

Xisa stole another glance at Morg’s soiled clothes and nodded quickly in agreement.

Though on second thought, a complete change of clothes would probably be better… Xisa thought, glancing around the little cottage they were using as their temporary hideout. Though it was around the same size as Maisha’s hut, it was very sparsely furnished- even the kitchen only had a stove. Any cabinets or drawers hung crookedly open, revealing the dust and cobwebs filling them, and sunlight shone cheekily through certain spots in the ceiling.

Maybe there’s a way to make new clothes with magic, Xisa mused, following Songbai outside. Though Songbai already said she didn’t want to use up any more of her mana.

Baigu, who had been dutifully pacing around the inner perimeter of the cottage, sprung out the door ahead of Songbai and began sniffing around. After satisfactorily investigating the area, the wooly wolf slunk back inside with the two unconscious witches. Xisa reached a hand under her shirt for her own familiar and rubbed his slimy head with her forefinger.

I hope we can all go home soon.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Mn. Here we are, I knew there was a well here,” Songbai muttered, her voice drifting over from the other side of the house. Xisa scampered over to help.

“Here,” Songbai said as she finished pumping water into one of the two rusty buckets sitting by the pump. “Go ahead and take this back inside. I’ll be right behind you with the other one.”

Xisa nodded obediently and trudged her way back into the house, water occasionally splashing her toes when her steps were too uneven. Back inside, she set the bucket down beside Morg and began searching around for a clean piece of cloth. Of course there was nothing suitable in the house, so scouted the cleanest section along the bottom of her shirt and directly ripped a piece of fabric from there. She then dipped the cotton cloth into the water and gently wiped away the blood and grime on Morg’s hands and face.

“Ah, Xiaoha, what a good sister you are,” Songbai said with a grin as she entered the little hut with the second pail. “Anyone who saw that would wish you were their sibling instead!”

Xisa frowned and turned away from Songbai. She did have a little brother. But he was probably cursing her from the afterlife by now for not taking better care of him…

Though Xisa had seemingly blatantly ignored her mentor’s words, Songbai was unfazed and the two of them sank into a peaceful silence. Songbai crossed over to Maisha and began cleaning up the little scorch marks and scratches scattered across her skin. Though not long after the elder witch did so, Maisha sucked in a breath and bolted up into a seated position.

“We must act quickly!” Maisha suddenly snapped, her eyes wide and yet somewhat clouded over. “Before it’s too late, we must…” as Maisha’s eyes gradually came into focus, her gaze settled on Morg. “We… we must…” Maisha glanced up at Songbai almost desperately.

“Morg’s father is dead,” she said flatly, though looking at Songbai as if hoping her fellow witch would refute her words.

“En.” Songbai responded in affirmation.

Maisha sank back against the wall and rubbed the space between her brows.

“I did not foresee it until it was too late,” she sighed, her face and lips several shades paler than they should be. “Everything was planned so meticulously,” she muttered in a low voice, “but now… now…”

Maisha shakily rose to her feet and crossed over to where Morg lay. Xisa looked up as Maisha stood there, towering over them. Maisha knelt next to the little witch and gently held her face in both palms.

No one else present would have ever suspected that the elder witch had half a mind to snap the little girl’s neck right then and there- this young witch was one with unbridled power, who would no doubt become less mentally stable after this, and several of this little witch’s fates involved Maisha’s death.

But in the end, Maisha simply let out a soft sigh and gently patted Morg’s cheek before returning back to Songbai. Whether the elder witch believed that Morg could still be used for her own designs, or perhaps worried that the other two witches present would abandon her after she committed such an act was hard to say.

I failed… I failed at seeing what I needed to see, and I failed at protecting what I wanted to protect.

“You are not all powerful,” Songbai said softly, as if guessing what was on Maisha’s mind. “None of this is your fault.”

No doubt the elder witch was only trying to comfort her, but Maisha’s expression turned sour.

Whether it’s my fault or not, I am still not powerful enough, she thought, closing her eyes and sucking in a deep breath as a wave of tiredness hit her. There is still a long way to go.

*

Morg did not wake up until well into the night when the other three witches had already fallen asleep. Baigu had caught a couple of rabbits earlier and Songbai had roasted them for dinner in the fireplace, so the smell of roasted meat still lingered in the little cottage. Usually this would have been enough to make Morg’s stomach growl with hunger, but at that moment, the stench only made her nauseous.

Morg looked blankly down at her healed and unburnt hands, at first holding the vague hope that her memories had all just been some sort of devilish nightmare. But then she saw the blood splattered across her clothes and her heart sank.

Maybe… maybe Songbai already went back and healed him, Morg thought dully to herself. As the girl shakily stood to her feet, Baigu raised her head and let out a low whine.

“Song Laoshi,” Morg whispered, gently shaking her mentor’s sleeping form. “Song Laoshi, what happened? Is my father alright?”

Songbai drowsily sat up and stared at Morg with weary eyes. Seeing the little witch’s fearfully hopeful expression, Songbai suddenly felt wide awake.

“Morg, your father…”

For a moment, Songbai considered just lying to the little witch- wouldn’t that be kinder on her heart? But in the end, she swallowed those words and let out a small sigh.

“Morg,” Songbai began carefully, “No magic can bring back a soul that has already left this world.”

Morg’s face was filled with wilful confusion, an expression like she was afraid of understanding Songbai’s words. Songbai spoke her next sentence slowly and gently, reaching out to hold the young girl’s hands.

“There is no spell to bring your father back from the dead.”

“But.. but you can mend a broken arm so easily!” Morg cried desperately, yanking her hands away from Songbai. “Look, my hands were burned last night, I know they were, but now they’re fine again! You can clearly heal even a complicated wound, there’s no way you can’t fix my father!!”

Xisa groggily sat up and rubbed her eyes at the noise, her expression growing worried when she realized Morg was awake. Songbai softened her voice, her heart aching for the young witch.

“I’m sure I could mend his broken body. But I cannot bring back his soul. Necromancy is… both complicated and dangerous. There are rules. And there are consequences if you break them. It is not something to be trifled with.” The elder witch’s tone turned firm for a moment, before softening again.

“Witches have control over many things. But there are limitations.”

“How does that make sense?!” Morg yelled, though her expression looked more frightened than it did angry. “You can turn someone to stone and back again and they come out the other side just fine! You cured my parents when they were frogs, how is this any different?! If it’s a problem of mana, just teach me what to do! Or better yet, we can… we can find a way to enhance your mana! Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it!!” As she continued speaking, the young witch’s sharp tone softened into one of pleading, and her eyes began shimmering with tears.

“Song Laoshi, just tell me what to do, and I will!”

Not knowing what to say, Songbai remained silent. But her gaze filled with both pity and sympathy was enough to bring Morg to tears.

“I know you know a way,” Morg sobbed, the tears streaming out of her eyes non-stop. “Just tell me!”

Unable to stand seeing her little witch like this, Songbai pulled Morg into a hug and gently stroked her golden hair. Morg only cried harder, her breaths ragged and hysterical. Xisa swallowed hard. If she had only stopped Morg that night. If she had just tried a little harder… then maybe… it wouldn’t have come to this.

*

The next day, the family of witches decided to return to Cyewen. Though Maisha had told them repeatedly and with an assured confidence that the clergymen had been taken care of, Songbai still went ahead first, leaving everyone else behind in Baile Cailleach. Luckily it seemed that Cyewen proper had escaped the ordeal unscathed- everything in the village looked exactly as they had left it. Songbai made her way to the Ugly Bear Tavern and ducked inside.

It was midday, so most of the village was still working, but the tavern wasn’t empty. A couple of people sat at the bar, sipping on their drinks, while a gruff man sat with his arms crossed and his eyes closed in the back corner. Songbai made her way to the bar and waited for Olga to turn around before waving her over.

“Rough couple of days?” the gruff witch asked sympathetically. Songbai let out a sigh and wearily placed her head in her hands. Olga placed down a small glass of apricot wine in front of Songbai and gestured to it with her chin. “On the house.”

“Thanks,” Songbai smiled. “I’m sure you found the clergymen wandering the island?”

Olga nodded slowly.

“The alarm spell told me as soon as they got within half a mile of the village. Were you four alright? I saw the house…”

Songbai took a sip of the apricot wine, the alcohol warming her stomach.

“All fine… mostly. I wouldn’t have left Cyewen alone to deal with the aftermath, but Morg and Maisha were both burned by that so-called ‘holy fire.’ They didn’t cause too much trouble after we left, did they?”

Olga frowned and let out a sigh.

“Lunatics, the lot of them. I tried to alter or erase any memories pertaining to the island, but for four of them, the magic just wouldn’t take. They put up a fight, of course, but a priest is no match for a witch. We killed them. Shouldn’t be causing us any more trouble here on out.”

“I suppose it was all up to you and Dante?” Songbai asked, feeling that the strength of a village was quite convenient indeed.

“Dante?” Olga scoffed, “That coward left the island the moment the alarm went off. Luckily Bjorn’s been in town for a few days,” Olga explained, gesturing to the sleeping man in the corner. “He helped me clean up the mess.”

“Bjorn?” Songbai repeated, slightly taken aback as she turned to look at the man. Just as he did, she spotted a little field mouse pop out from within his dark hair, run down his thick shoulders and arms, and disappear again into his sleeves.

“I didn’t recognize him!” Songbai mused. “He’s much… hairier than I remember…”

Olga shrugged.

“A symptom of his condition, I suppose.”

Songbai nodded in understanding and turned back around.

“So these church men,” Olga began, staring at Songbai. “How did they find Cyewen? Were they targeting Maisha?”

Songbai pulled out her folding fan and began tapping it against her chin in thought.

“That I am not sure,” the elder witch mused. “Perhaps they had inside information?”

Olga nodded and the two of them sank into a brief silence.

Songbai knew that Morg’s father had most likely led them here, but saying that out loud would only cause more trouble. How did Morg’s father know? Well the man had been here before. And why had he been here before? Of course it was because Morg herself had brought him here after turning him into a frog all those months ago! Even if Olga was good natured, she was someone who wouldn’t hesitate to sell out a single person for the greater good. If she knew Morg and Xisa had already awakened their powers, she might even target them herself in the name of protecting Cyewen. And was she wrong? No! Morg’s shenanigans from almost a year ago had led a whole group of ill-intentioned men to their village! Even if those men didn’t know of Morg’s abilities, power like this was a magnet for misfortune.

“If Maisha continues to insist on living outside the village,” Olga suddenly said, “perhaps she ought to consider layering some of the same spells that are on our village on her house. It’s no wonder they targeted her after finding the island- the village is hidden, but her house is so exposed out there. Even if the island has protections, things like this are bound to happen. It’s fine when Yaga is around but…” Olga paused and shot Songbai an almost apologetic glance, as if remembering their previous spat about Baba Yaga. “Well she’s just a fortune teller, and no one can foresee everything.”

Olga didn’t mean for her words to sound condescending or bossy in any way- she was genuinely concerned for a fellow witch- but the steady and almost domineering tone of her voice inevitably gave it that feeling. Songbai offered a tight smile. Not knowing what else to say and not wanting to argue, Songbai gave a half-hearted agreement.

“Hm. It makes sense. I’ll talk to her about it.”

The two sank into a bit of an awkward silence before Olga made some excuse about needing to get back to work. Not long after, Songbai left to retrieve her fellow witches from Baile Cailleach.

*

The house was in a sorry state, but not as sorry as Songbai had expected. While the top entirety of the house had been burnt to ashes, Maisha’s basement room was actually left fairly in-tact. Her belongings were strewn about and there were scorch marks running down the walls in some spots, but other than that, it was fine.

There must have been some sort of protection spells layered onto it to have withstood holy fire, Songbai mused as she hopped down into what was now just a pit of rubble and Maisha’s belongings.

Although, with those types of sustained spell rituals, the main drain of mana comes from the nature of the spell itself- not the object it’s protecting. In other words… it wouldn’t have taken much extra energy for her to cover the entire house. But only her room was covered… Were they built at different times?

“Songbai!”

Songbai jumped at Maisha’s voice.

“It’s lucky, your room doesn’t seem to have been terribly damaged in the fire,” Songbai remarked as she turned around. Maisha smiled, but something about the witch’s expression made Songbai think her fellow witch seemed nervous.

“Lucky indeed. The girls are settled with Tabitha. We should head back soon. I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave them alone for too long.”

“But shouldn’t we-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, let’s think about it later,” Maisha interrupted, grabbing Songbai’s shoulder before the elder witch could turn around again. “Let’s focus on the girls for now. We can rebuild tomorrow.”

Songbai sighed, and was about to concede to Maisha’s argument when she felt something beneath the floorboards shift.

“What was that?!” Songbai exclaimed with a start.

“What?” Maisha asked blankly. “What was what?”

“Did you not feel that…?”

“Feel what?”

Songbai scrutinized Maisha’s impenetrable mask of confusion.

“…Nevermind,” she sighed wearily. “Let’s head back.”