The younger witch rode on her steed deep in thought. Her face warm and her teeth biting her lower lip with bashfulness glimmering in her eyes.
Why does he have such unfiltered tongue? No man has ever spoken to her in that manner—not like she's spoken to any man. The only men she's exchange words with are the ones in the market, and other male servants—strictly on business. Her lips pressed together, as she headed back to direction of the cottage. Her anger toward the old witch has settled, but that does not mean she forgave her. Infiltrating her mind was a crime that can not be forgiven after a twinkle in the forest.
The young witch did not want to head back there, but she had no any other options. It either that, or she sleeps in the forest—never again. All she has to do is spend the night and she will leave at the break of dawn the next day. She nodded her head at that thought.
The moon was back in sight, with the rain completely vanished. The only trace that it rained, was the muddy grounds and the extra freshness in the atmosphere. Speed's hooves steadily hit the muddy floor, but it came to a sharp holt as her reins where pulled sharply.
The rider's brows drew closer, with her ocean blue eyes sweeping her surroundings.
Crack!
A crisp snap echoed through the still night. Dydra's eyes shot to where the sound came from and she caught sight of a moving shadow. Her heart skipped a beat. What was that? Was it the elite stranger from earlier?
Crack!
Her ears picked up another one, this time alot closer than before. The red-haired girl gripped the reins of her steed tightly, ready to speed out. Then she heard a calm voice call out.
"Dydra." Her heart almost leaped out of her chest, like a startled bird taking flight. The shadow drew near, with the bright moonlight reflecting on half of its face. Her ocean blue eyes meant a single icy eye, and her mouth parted, an earth shaking scream bursting out of her lungs, echoing through the quiet forest, causing birds in the trees to take flight.
Just as she was about to tighten her grip on the reins and set the horse into motion, the shadow stepped into the moonlight, revealing it full face. It was Oryen.
A wave of relief washed over the young witch, who threw a glare at the aged woman. Her palm went over her chest, trying to calm her racing heart.
"Dear, heavens. Oryen, why would you scare me like that?"
The raven-haired woman had a guilty look. "I didn't mean to. I wasn't sure if it was you or another person, as you didn't have a coat on before leaving the cottage," she pointed out, as she wondered where the young witch got an expensive looking coat from.
Dydra's hand unconsciously went to the coat, her fingers caressing the thick fabric softly. "An elite gave it to me," her voice was soft, as though deep in thought. Flashes of his arm stretching forth, breaking her fall, came rushing back, and blood rushed up her face. Thankfully for her, her ebony skin covered the blush signs on her face, preventing the old witch from noticing.
The raven-haired woman's eyes widened as she couldn't believe what she just heard. A-an elite gave it to her? How is that possible? That can not be possible? She started down at the fit the young witch wore, and a knowing look washed over her. The elite must have mistaken her for a woman of class, as the dress's material was quality. She didn't push further, and the friendly atmosphere that hung around them few seconds ago melted, with both women recalling what got them present at the forest, when the moon was in its peek.
Guilt and regret danced in the eyes of the old witch, as the young witch tried to control her anger.
"Why did you do it?" Dydra's question, was like pieces of glass, piercing into Oryen's skin.
"It was the only memory that strongly connected you to your witchcraft." She answered genuinely.
The flashes of her grandmother taking her last breath continued to pop into the young witch's head, and she held the tears that threatened to fall.
"Why do you want me to learn witchcraft so badly?" Her voice shook as she stared down at the person responsible for the current heaviness her heart felt.
"Because that is who you are. We are sisters from different clan, separated by the kind of spells we perform. It is my duty to remind you of who you are, so you can protect yourself." Oryen felt that it was not time to tell the young witch the true story for her wanting to build her powers. She was already in so much pain and resentment toward her, if she tells her the real truth now, the young witch's power could show up, as more anger build up towards her, ending her permanently.
Dydra didn't reply. She broke her gaze from the old witch's, and stared at the night sky. Her eyes gently flattered, pushing back her tears. After a while, she said, her voice came—soft.
"Get on."
Oryen didn't hesitate and mounted, with the two of them quietly riding back to the cottage.
Unbeknownst the the two witches, a pair of midnight eyes watched them from a close distance. His ears seemed to have caught every single word exchanged by the two women. His eyes narrowed, and all of a sudden, spark of red shown in them, disappearing as quickly as it came. As though it was never there.
"A witch, eh?" He muttered, asking no one in particular. The women are now far away from his eye sight, and his gazed dropped, going to the dark stallion behind him. He stroke it's temple with care, as his eyes stared at nothing in particular. He was deep in thought.
"Prince Leonard." A vohce from behind him called, breaking him out of his thoughts.