Hello, this is the first installment of the first story I''m publishing here! There is little sex in this one, but I promise things will heat up more in the following chapters to come. I''d love to hear your thoughts and feedback, especially as I continue writing this one. Thanks for reading and please consider following me and rating my story if you like it!
It''s nights like these when I feel most inspired. The soft glow of the full moon makes my blood sing, energy thrumming through my veins and reverberating down to my bones. Tucking my little sister into her bed, I feel my skin practically crackling as I set out with my bottles and things under the cover of the night. The forest is dark, scary, and inviting. The trees seem to lean towards me, enticing me to trek some dangerous way. But, there''s danger afoot among the dirt paths. Stories of creatures that come out only under the full moon, large and hairy beings, echo through my ears. I feel the quick rhythm of my heart shaking my vision. Part of me is terrified, but at the same time, the fear enthralls me. Something about tonight. It makes me bold and reckless. My spirit is excited for adventure. Light as I try to make my movements, small rocks crunch under each step. The noise fights against the eerie silence that is thick in the misty air. Tonight, I''m on my way to my cove. It''s my second home, the workshop where I tinker with all sorts of potions and other concoctions. As much as I love being home with Era, our humble abode is far too out of the way from the ingredients I require, which are found only in the elements. My solution was to set up another camp for myself, equally as humble as our residence. So far, it''s worked quite well. In the past year or so that I''ve had it, I''ve increased our income nearly three-fold without having to make the trip back and forth multiple times a week for what I need. Instead, I''ll stay at my camp hard at work, fulfilling orders at a faster pace as Era brings me any new ones that come in. And tonight, I''m headed to my cove since on the way there''ll be ample opportunity to expand my influence. Just a witch''s legend, perhaps. But I''ve heard countless times from my parents of the moon-glow, a mushroom that surfaces only on the third full moon at the turn of the century. I''ve heard the stories in awed whispers because it''s precious and rare, versatile for all sorts of immoral, illicit, and dark magic. For myself, though, what intrigues me is its promises of healing properties. Anti-aging to an obscene degree and healing impossible-to-heal wounds in seconds are both purposes that would provide Era and me with security for the rest of our lives, even just with a couple of sales. Tonight, I''m on the search for even just a bit of this mushroom. The way to my cove is a long one, but a small meadow exists not too far out from the path between my home and my second home. My hunch is that if there are to be any moon-glow found tonight, it''ll be in that meadow. The first time I passed through it, there was something in me that felt drawn to the place. Would it be too cheesy to say like a moth to a flame? The meadow always seems to create an abundance of what I need, whether it''s ingredients for my concoctions or even food to feed my sister and myself through the tough winters we''ve faced. Even with just the witch-half of me connected to the force of magic, I knew this meadow was a powerful place. Making my way towards the meadow, I feel oddly confident that I will find this poorly-documented magical mushroom waiting for me. It has to be at least fifteen minutes before I know I''m nearing my destination. I''m invigorated as I stride through the fog with confidence, stepping carefully through shrubs and other growth as to not get my cloak caught on any arrogant branches. I peer past the particularly large tree that marks the path''s bend, my eyes feasting on the sight in front of me. "Wow." The meadow is more beautiful than ever tonight. A pale blue emanates from pockets of the clearing. Though it''s almost difficult to see the details of what''s shining past its brightness, I can make out vague mushroom-like shapes through the orbs of light punctuating my sight. Gleefully, fully aware that this is an experience that not every witch gets to experience, I set about picking as much as I can. In all honesty, I wish for more. According to the legends, only a minuscule amount is needed to use the moon-glow properly, but with each bright light only yielding one, maybe two mushrooms, I''m only able to harvest a small amount in total. The moon-glow ceases to glow so brightly when I pick them. Instead, they very slightly let off a pale light nestled in my basket. I cover the goods with cloth and giddily continue onto my camp, eager to enhance my own magic with this ingredient. As a half-witch, my practice has been fairly limited. Especially considering that my father, the one who gave me the magic in my blood, passed away when I was young. He wasn''t even able to see Era born. Mother died shortly after, but not before telling me as much as she could recall about magic. We pored over papa''s humble collection of spellbooks together. I knew she felt bad that I was never able to learn much before papa died, so passing on her fleeting knowledge was her way of apology, commiseration at our shared loss. The legend of moon-glow I first heard from papa as a babe, but my mother was the one who reinforced the legend with what she knew as fact, or at least what she''d heard from her husband while he was still alive. Papa had talked about it a fair bit, knowing that the turn of the century would be during his lifetime. At least, it should have been, before the sickness took him. After Era and I were left on our own, we were faced with the harsh reality of our situation. Already living quite isolated away from others due to our low status, I''d have to find some way to provide for us with what was already available to us, or move closer to the city. A gamble in and of itself, but with my sister in tow, frankly dangerous. With little experience in anything, really, I would have to find backbreaking work for barely enough to scrape by. The only other alternative hung over us, where I would be resigned to a life knocking on the doors of rich men, in hopes they''d sneak me into their homes and onto their kitchen tables for secretive and quick pleasure. It may certainly be more fruitful, but it was also something neither me nor my sister seriously considered. It was no secret that the life of a whore is as dangerous of a place for a woman as it can be. Instead, with the enhanced knowledge about magic I gained during the final months of my mother''s life, I set about making a name for myself. Papa had had a fair share of clients but had stopped serving them as he''d grown sicker and sicker. When I first began offering my services, there were hardly any clients. But, as time went on, the few stragglers who hadn''t yet heard of papa''s passing came by. Only a couple of those needed what I could offer. Any more intensive potions and poultices, I had to turn away. But, as a little half-witch with a penchant and gift for healing, anytime a client needed healing services, I was more than happy to provide my expertise. When it came to healing magic, something in me seemed to come alive even when I didn''t quite know what to do. My practice grew, and so did my skills. Years passing marked an increase in clients as word spread of they young, talented healer, which necessitated me building my workshop, and led to this moment, where I cradle the freshly picked moon-glow close to my breast. I almost have to tear myself away from the magnet hold the meadow has on me tonight, but the excitement of examining the moon-glow more intimately keeps my feet moving further west. My imagination spins with the possibilities. These heady fantasies keep me floating into my crudely built workshop, make me hum a happy tune as I bustle around setting down my baggage. In fact, my fantasies keep me from noticing a dark figure in the corner of my safe space. "Hello." A deep voice starts from the corner. I whip my head around just in time to see a large figure getting up from my chair. "How did you find this place?" I mean for the words to come out boldly, but the only thing that manages to come out is a dry whisper. I can only think of a handful of reasons for a strange man to show up in a girl’s small shack. Nevertheless, I''d muttered spells over the building to try to hide it from outsiders. Those spells were my confidence in leaving so much of my livelihood here, and it seems today they’ve failed me. "I''m looking for a healer, is this you?" The man ignores my question. He doesn''t seem too concerned with formalities but also hasn''t displayed any unkindness. "Depends on why you''re asking." There may have been recent movements in our kingdom to keep witches from being senselessly murdered as they''ve been in the past, but I know that there''s plenty anti-witch sentiment afoot to require me to continue operating any magic in secrecy. Again, this was the purpose of those protection spells. If this man found his way in, does that mean he possesses his own magic to counteract mine? "Selene. I need her." With that, the man steps into my candlelight. The weak flame illuminates his features, allowing me to see him for the first time. He is wearing robes, or perhaps a tunic? Some dark and shapeless thing that marks him as a foreign entity in my second home. Deep eyes, dark hair, and strong features make up a face that I''d find handsome in any other circumstance. Despite my observations, when he steps forward, I gasp. Across the right side of his face, spanning from his forehead through the bridge of his nose into his jawline is a huge wound. It looks at least a few days old, the skin not quite raw, but still mangled. It will give him at the very least a nasty scar, given that it doesn''t get infected anytime soon. "What happened to your face?" My feet are moving before I process the action, pulling some bottles off my small shelves to mix up a remedy, even if I don''t have the time to properly make any potions. Damn these healer''s instincts. "Are you in pain?" He chuckles. "Seems like I''ve found the right one, then. I''ve dealt with worse things, but this one is different. It''s not healing right. We think it might be a result of… magic." He says the last word as if it''s a curse. Which, in a sense, it might as well be. "Sir, I''m not sure what I can do for you." My hands stop their automatic movement as my body stiffens. I feel my face has reddened, and thank the gods for the darkness hiding my panic. "My simple tinctures may very well be powerless against damage you''ve sustained in altercations from… less savory beings." "I don''t mean to suggest you''re a witch, Miss Selene." He seems a little taken aback, perhaps surprised by my adverse reaction to his suggestion that I''m in touch with magic. I suspect he''s at least heard some version of the truth of who I am and has expected me to acknowledge what I am. Yet, I know where witches lie in this society, and until he proves to me who and what he is, I will preserve myself. "I''ve heard that the things you can do as a healer may very well be acts of magic. My men and I are passing through this portion of town, and I''m coming to you out of desperation. My condition is deteriorating quickly, and I fear for my life. Please, Miss Selene. As a desperate man, I beg you." I can''t help but bite my lip. There''s something in me that wants to kick this man out (though by his stature I doubt the likelihood of that feat should he be disagreeable), but an equal part of me is intrigued and wants to help him. I''m telling myself it''s the healer part of me, the compassionate part of me that makes the decision. "I- I can only try my best. But you must help me understand more about this all. And my services don''t come free." He reassures me of my payment. As I pull down some of my most innocent ingredients, the man answers the questions I have for him with ease. He speaks my language as well as a native, but I think I can pick out a few instances where his tongue grapples with a difficult phoneme. His name is Erik, and he''s the general of some king''s army. They were scouting through a neighboring forest which is known to have a rogue warlock galloping betwixt its trees when they came across the said cad. The warlock didn''t take kindly to the trespassing and sent a hex flying across General Erik''s face as his last act. It left a nasty mark on his skin, but dark marks in webbed patterns have begun to appear over his back. With it, a host of nasty pain that grows with each day. He passed out and was left in a nearby village to rest a bit while his men took care of some other tasks and then return to the king''s camp, located close by. Eventually, they did some asking around and heard of me. The general and his right-hand man had set camp nearby my cove. "I can take the scarring and the physical pain, but with whatever that warlock did to me, I don''t think I''ll survive another week." "That bad, general?" I say gently. By this time, I''ve put together what I could. I couldn''t resist temptation, and when the general wasn''t looking, I slipped in a snippet of the moon-glow from my basket. I''m sure that this small amount wouldn''t grant him everlasting life or anything, but at least give him some healing effects in the otherwise magic-less concoction. None before have come to my doorstep with marks of curses on them, so I wasn''t lying when I expressed how I could only try to deliver him healing. With the moon-glow, though, I think he will feel better by morning. "There are many people I must live to protect. I cannot die." His expression is sincere yet grim. "Well, I certainly admire your sense of loyalty even in the face of death." I direct him to sit on my cot, setting down a small cup of the potion in front of him. "Please, drink this. It will numb your pain for tonight, give you rest, and hopefully help you more with your long-lasting conditions." "Thank you, Miss Selene." Erik takes the cup and downs it all in one gulp. He groans as pain wracks his pretty features, as if the curse protests at the new addition to his system. Suddenly, instead of the hardened and grim man, his expression is pleading, interrupted by expressions of pain. I move to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but he grabs my hand in his. "Stay with me, please." "I will be here with you until you fall asleep." I move closer to him, his eyes already beginning to droop. The general''s head begins to dip to the side. I may have neglected to mention to him that I''d added enough sleep sap to the mix to knock out a man of his size. It seemed that adding the moon-glow only accelerated the intended effects of my potion. For now, I''m in my small workshop with a grim, handsome, and cursed man I just met, hand tightly pinched between his fingers. Tomorrow morning, I smile tightly, I''ll be safe asleep, nestled next to Era in bed. I''ll have to stay away from my cove for a while, though from the way that Erik spoke, his odd king and their army will be out of the area in just a few days. But it will be Era''s fifteenth birthday in just a couple of days, and it will be good for me to be with her anyways. The large general has tipped over, fast asleep on his side, and I have to stifle a laugh at how quickly he''s passed out. Fast asleep, he looks much younger and nearly boyish. I extract my fingers from the grip of his large hand. I''m not used to being touched by anyone other than Era, and I try not to think about how pleasantly warm his grip is despite the roughness of his skin. Now, to check on him before I make myself scarce. The healer''s blood in me awakens as I set to work putting together something designed to boost his immune system over the next few days. I don''t have the time to make something potent, but I do whisper some spells over the mix as I stir things together. I write out a small note with directions of use and attach it to the bottle. As I set it down in front of the sleeping general, my breath catches. The scarring on his face has already begun to fade. The skin on the wound is no longer the discolored mess that he''d had just ten minutes prior. I move the general''s neckline as much as I can out of the way to peer over his back, where the black webbing looks as if it may be receding slowly. I''m bewildered. Though now, without the distraction of the cursed flesh on his back, I''m noticing the heavy muscles under his skin. I’ve seen the bodies of men before, but something about it being here in my cove, alone at night… My face feels hot against the cool night air, and I feel embarrassed. I smooth back down the hem of his shirt. "Not professional at all, Selene," I mutter. I know now the massive potential of the moon-glow. With the knowledge pounding in my ears, I gather what I must have and set off back to my sweet sister, who''s fallen asleep on a bundle of cushions next to the entrance. I pick her up and take her to our bed, where I flop down, exhausted. With the moon-glow with us, tomorrow will be the beginning of our new life.
I awake to pain radiating through my neck. The ground jolts under me, and it must have been my resultant head flopping around while sleeping that was causing me my pain. There''s bodily warmth behind me, holding me tightly. I guess it''s good, considering my wrists are tied tightly in front of me and I have a horse underneath me. "Unnh?" My morning voice is gravelly. I open my eyes blearily to trees whizzing past. "Awake now, is she?" The voice comes right beside my ear. I turn towards the voice. "Hey there, princess." The body holding me is a man. His complexion is dark and tanned, unlike the fair complexion that belongs to my family and others who live near us. I don''t know what it is, but something about him immediately makes me distrust him. "Let go of me!” I try to fight my way out of his grasp and off the horse, to which he just laughs. "Please calm yourself, Miss Selene." I turn around to see General Erik behind us on a steed of his own. "Erik?" My voice reflects my betrayal, shock causing me to forget observing formalities. There is only a ghost of the scar left on his face today, replacing in its wake the grimness I recognized nestled under Erik''s wound yesterday. I can see now in daylight that he is also on the darker side, ever the foreigner as corroborated by his story last night. The general nods. "You''ll have to excuse the methods that we had to resort to. I know it''s not ideal, but Reno convinced me that this is for the better." "But why?" Erik stares straight ahead, ignoring my question. "Our dear general may be distracted by a pretty face and that cute figure you have hidden under here," Reno laughs, an unfriendly hand settling on my inner thigh. I gulp, looking back at the general''s face devoid of reaction. If anything, he avoids looking at me again. "But I also know you for what you are. Talented healer, as if. Little witch." My blood freezes with his last statement. If they''ve taken me because they know I''m a witch, then I''m really in danger. Gruesome stories of how some of my relatives'' lives were cut short echo in my head. "I''m not a witch." My voice barely comes out in a whisper. Neither of the men dignify me with a response. At the very least I could try to get some answers. I repeat, loudly. "I''m not a witch. And I left you at my workshop alone, general." "When Erik didn''t come back in a few hours, I got worried. Checked your shack, made sure he was okay. Then had to go collect you at your home. Collateral, of sorts, because who knows what you''re capable of?" Reno''s hand is getting too comfortable on my inner thigh, roaming up and down.r"
