Vanessa ducked as the tea saucer flew over her head, crashing into the far-side wall. Her expression was filled with clearest venom as she turned from her spot kneeling on the lounge room floor to look into the kitchen and its inhabitants. “I swear if you kids don’t knock it off, I’m gonna knock you off!” Rolling her eye, she pulled her cloak tighter around herself and tied it where it needed to be tied. Its several charms and other magical assistants gleamed in the meager light. No one but a Witch would be able to tell the difference between the cloak’s magical embellishments and your every-day, average decorations. That’s what made it so useful. Also devious in appearance was her staff. Despite its many blue feathers that circled around it’s top and white marble base, it was no different than any other fancy walking stick a rich woman might carry. But still….she needed to be careful with it, or in the wrong eyes, its true magical intent might become obvious.
Suddenly, the three children that had been messing around in the kitchen flew into the living room at breakneck speed, nearly knocking Vanessa over as they sped to gather around her. “Did you see it? Did you see what I did? Pretty awesome, huh?” The oldest, a cheetah boy with a gangly looking appearance asked of her, climbing up onto one of the leather loveseats.
Vanessa eyed the fragments of porcelain on the carpeted floor, the impact stain on the white wall, just inches away from a valuable painting. “Yes, I saw how you destroyed a perfectly good piece of dining ware. Very impressive.”
“We tried to get him to stop screwing around, didn’t we, Clara?” The youngest, a wildcat girl with blonde hair asked her similar–looking sister as they joined the boy.
“We sure did. We knew it was bad of him to do that, huh?” Clara said innocently.
“Is that so?” Vanessa asked off-handedly. She bent down to regather her burlap traveling sack, with its leather tussles and sun-moon ink design. “Changing your attitude pretty fast I can see. You kids keep acting so conniving to each other, then when the Hunters come, it’s going to be much less of a painful thing and more of a heartbreaking thing. You know what they do to a Witch if they catch them?” All three shook their heads. This made Vanessa curious, as apparently their mother hadn’t been responsible enough to tell them yet. “Well…I suppose since you’re children, they’d opt for jailtime…Ten years.”
“Ten years!!? You’re not serious. That’s…”
“A long time. And I am. They believe that ten years is long enough for a child to grow up and realize that they don’t ‘need’ magic. And that’s the decision they’d make for you on a good day….be it a bad day, and they’d probably assign you the same fate as if they caught your mother….” At these last few words, her face grew sullen. “If they got ahold of your mother, they’d probably kill her. They’d Burn her.
“But she didn’t do anything…!”
Vanessa huffed. “I don’t feel like talking about it anymore. You have my warning, now can you please try and behave for a short while whilst I go to town? Clean that mess up and go help your mother in the garden or something.”
“We will,” the three said after a long silence. She wondered whether they truly meant it this time around or whether they were just saying it out of habit. Then she stood up, bag awkwardly held in her singly functional arm, and checked her appearance in the mirror above the stone fireplace: good. Her face was hidden in shadow, most of her shockingly pink hair out of sight. Once she knew her identity was concealed, she proceeded to walk to the front door of the large cottage, boots squeaking on the floor. Several guests to her make-shift inn greeted her warmly as she passed, after all, she was, for the time being, their shepard of safe-keeping.
As she hesitated at the front door, seconds from stepping outside into the sun, she prayed that she’d be able to come back.
Topic: Burn, My Sweet, Sweet Valentine (Members Only) (Read 5564 times)