High Witch

Brayden woke up, feeling warm and rested. It was morning — he wasn’t waking up in the middle of the night. He hadn’t woken up in the middle of the night. He sat up, realization hitting. He hadn’t dreamed. He hadn’t seen her.

He got out of bed, stretching, relieved to have the first real night’s sleep he’d had in a month. The feeling was delicious. He walked over to the dresser in his small attic room, peering in the small mirror perched on top.

His blue eyes didn’t look tired and bleary as they had been. His light brown hair was a mess, but he looked rested. So, you look normal. Well done, he chided himself. Normal was good. Normal didn’t make you end up out on the street.

He sat back on his bed for a moment, reflecting on what had happened. He realized he felt a small sense of loss. Although the dreams were torturing him, he slightly missed the connection. In his dreams he was hopelessly in love with the mystery woman, and she loved him. While the dreams were still going, he had the vague hope he would meet this girl. He frowned, definitely feeling a loss.

But you did meet her. She’s downstairs.

Brayden took a sharp breath. Ariel. He’d told himself last night, when he’d gone to bed, that he was being stupid. Just because she had the same blue eyes didn’t mean she was the same girl. The dream girl didn’t exist. It wasn’t a vision. It was just something that was happening to him, because he was lonely, or something.

But now, remembering the way she looked at him, he connected more things about the two of them. While her blonde hair was always a mess, it was soft and silky — he could tell it would flow around her if she wore it down. Flow beautifully down her delicate shoulders. She was the same height, had the same beautiful skin, the same pink lips. It was her. Was it? He bit his lip, finding he wanted desperately to do the one thing which would confirm it.

He wanted to kiss her.

Brayden knocked quietly on the door to Ariel’s room. He held a tray full of food for breakfast, which Alistair suggested he bring to her room. She was absent from the dining room, probably avoiding Richard and his wife. Alistair was angry about what had happened, but not at Ariel. He thought Brayden should have handled it better. Brayden thought the guest was lucky he didn’t tip another plate of food over his head. He didn’t tell his employer that.

He knocked again, louder this time. He heard movements in the room, then the door opened. He nearly dropped the tray.

Ariel stood there, wearing a long, silky dressing gown, her hair cascading down her back. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, her eyes bright and piercing. She smiled at him.

“Thank you,” she said. “Come in. I’m actually quite hungry.”

She stepped aside, and Brayden walked into the room. He was surprised at how messy it was — Ariel had piled clothes and books and dozens of other items everywhere — on the floor, on the chairs, on the dresser. Ariel pushed aside several small glass bottles on the desk, to make room for the breakfast tray. Brayden delicately placed it down.

He realized she definitely wasn’t just traveling for a short while. She was moving, leaving wherever she was before. He looked at her, concerned about what had happened. But his mind went blank, as she was standing very, very close to him.

“That looks lovely,” she said, looking down at the tray. “Thank you.” She paused. “Is...is the man alright?”

Her eyes met his. Brayden struggled to breathe. He swallowed.

“Richard’s fine. Don’t worry, he’s leaving the day after tomorrow. You can join us in the dining room again. I won’t let him yell at you.”

She blushed, fiddling with her gown. “I’d rather not see him. Unless it’s trouble to bring me my meals. I suppose I could try...”

“It’s no trouble,” Brayden said, smiling at her. He wanted to reassure her. And kiss her. Over and over. He inwardly sighed.

“I’ll leave you,” he said, knowing he was being an idiot. “Let me know if you need anything.”

He turned and walked to the door, which was still open. “Brayden?” she called after him. He turned back. She was looking at the floor.

“I didn’t mean to — I mean — I never mean to do those things. It just happens sometimes. I promise I’ll try to control it. I didn’t mean to upset anyone.”

His heart filled up with emotion. He knew he should be going, but he really wanted to tell her something. He paused for a moment, then walked back over and stood before her.

“My mother’s a witch, Ariel,” he said softly. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with people who have magic. I never have. You probably should try to control it, so you don’t get in trouble, but that doesn’t mean you should be ashamed.” Something occurred to him, looking at how delicate and frightened she appeared. “Do you ever let yourself use your magic?” he asked. “I mean, on purpose?”

She stared at him, her eyes wide. “Oh, no. I can’t. Bad things happen if I use it on purpose. It’s — difficult to manage. I have to keep it bottled up at all times.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “But then someone will criticize you, and they’ll end up with their meal all over them,” he said softly. “You have to use your magic, on purpose, or it will pour out of you when you don’t expect it.” He bit his lip, then risked reaching out and taking hold of one of her hands.

“I’m not a warlock, but I spent a lot of time with my mother when she used her magic. I could help you learn to use it, if you’d like. Only if you’d like.”

He held her hand, warm in his, and waited nervously for her to respond. Finally, she smiled at him. “Alright,” she said softly. “But only a little. Or bad things will happen.”

He found he desperately wanted to grin. He only just succeeded not doing so. “I think I can handle it,” he said. “I’m free this evening, after dinner. I’ll see you then.”

She nodded. He reluctantly let go of her hand and left the room. He shut the door behind him, then stood there for a long moment. What if she was the girl from his dreams? What did that mean? What was going on? He was so glad he’d met her, but had the horrible feeling something strange was happening. And the frightening feeling he was starting to fall for someone he’d just met.

It was early evening, shortly after dinner. The sun was only just setting, so there was still light. Brayden stood in the grassy space behind the inn, way back, next to the stables. He waited for Ariel.

He’d left a note for her under her door, saying to meet him there. He’d been thinking about her all day, during all his chores, during everything he did. Alistair said he was working much faster today, but his head was in the clouds. He couldn’t argue with that.

After a while he saw someone walked around the side of the inn towards him. He stood there quietly, and Ariel finally reached him. Her hair was back up, and she wore a dark blue dress. Brayden smiled.

“I’m glad you joined me,” he said. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”

She smiled back, standing in front of him. “I wasn’t sure if I would, either. But I’m willing to give it a try. What do you suggest first?”

He thought for a moment. Her gift must be being able to move things with her magic — that’s how she tipped the plate of food on the man who insulted her. Other people with magic had different core gifts, like receiving visions, or shape-shifting. He thought Ariel’s gift should be relatively easy to teach her how to use, unlike something like controlling fire and water.

He looked around them, then led her slightly away from the stables. No point scaring the horses. He gestured to a small pile of rocks on the ground near them.

“Try to lift one, and bring it to me.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, no. Not something that could be a weapon. Bad things...”

“Ariel, just trust me,” Brayden said. He wondered why she was so scared. She frowned at him, as if she was frustrated, or disappointed, or something. He felt his heart fall. She sighed, and turned to face the rocks.

She held out her right arm, and sighed again. Then she narrowed her eyes, concentrating. Brayden watched her, wondering if she had to work hard to summon her strength. She remained very still. Then twitched her index finger.

All of the rocks, all of them, flew high into the air with a thundering explosion. Brayden felt sick as he knew they had to come down, when Ariel threw herself at him, and suddenly everything was spinning. They kept spinning, until his feet were on solid ground again. He looked around him — they were all the way across the yard. He turned, and saw all the rocks crash down, exactly where they had been standing. He stared back at Ariel.

“Are you alright?” he exclaimed, looking at her in shock. She put her hands over her mouth and began to sob. His heart broke, and he walked over and put his arms around her. She took her glasses off and cried against his shoulder.

They stood like that for a long time, and then she stepped back, wiping her eyes. Brayden handed her a handkerchief from his pocket. She took it, sniffing loudly.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice croaky. “I shouldn’t have — I mean, you asked me to, but I shouldn’t have done that. I should have refused. I should have refused.”

He looked at her closely. He couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. Couldn’t believe what she was. He realized this was serious — Ariel was more than a young witch who didn’t know how to control her powers. She was more than someone who just needed to be guided and helped. He felt a sadness overtake him. He didn’t want her to be in trouble.

And she was in huge trouble.

“Ariel, I have to tell you something,” he began slowly. She looked up at him, waiting expectantly. He took a deep breath.

“You’re a High Witch.”