Witch Bewitched (COMPLETE)

Chapter 41

Drowning. Misa was drowning. No matter how much she clawed at her throat and flailed her arms to get to the surface, she couldn't get the breath of fresh air her body craved. Her heart galloped against her ribcage, her lungs ignited into a painful fire, her vision blurred against the light.

Misa opened her mouth to cry out for help, but her voice was clogged at her throat. She couldn't breathe.

Misa. A voice from the depth echoed to her. Her head throbbed. She stopped struggling, resigning to the endless ocean surrounding her. Misa! The voice wasn't something she could hear. It was more of a feeling, something so abstract that Misa wondered if it was her subconscious. It sounded neither male nor female, but a mixture of the many people she'd come into contact with.

Misa. She opened her eyes. Her name was beginning to sound closer, more real. She reached out to it. It had come for her. To save her from the waters that filled her lungs.

"Misa!" A hand touched her shoulder. Misa's throat hurt, her lips trembled, and her vision was still blurred. Reality came crashing down on her, wiping away the oppressive ocean that had filled her mind. Royle shook her as if he was trying to wake her up.

Misa blinked away her tears and focused her gaze on Royle's face. His soft lips, his strong jaw, and his eyes, so deep and filled with concern.

"Royle," Misa rasped, her voice thin and shaky. She collapsed into his arm, burying her face against his chest.

Royle stroked her head. "You're safe," he breathed, relief coating his words. "You're safe."

Misa was exhausted. She wanted to curl up in the captain's warmth and fall asleep, to never wake up to this nightmare she had walked into. Her veins still burned, and she knew exactly what Tika had done. A rage boiled through her, but Misa's mind was too spent to focus on the turmoil bubbling within her.

"I'm tired," Misa whispered, clenching Royle's shirt under her fists. "So, so tired."

"What happened?" His chest rumbled as he spoke.

"Please. I...I can't..." She peered up at him, exhaustion weighing down on her, tears threatening to fall.

"Misa." Royle's eyes softened. His voice was gentle. He grazed a finger down her cheek, dragging a strand of hair from her face. "It's okay."

"Tomorrow," Misa said. Her insides were shaking. Fragile. She was sure they would shatter into a million pieces if she even mentioned what Tika had done. "I'll tell you tomorrow. Right now, I just need to go to bed."

"Fine." Royle hooked an arm below her knees and stood, making his way outside and towards another room.

Misa raised her head, her arms locking around his neck. The thought of sleep diminished. "What are you doing?" Alarm made her voice shrill. Misa squirmed, bouncing her legs up and down. "Let me down!"

"Be still," Royle said. "You said you were tired."

"I said I was tired, not unable to walk!" Misa struggled against him, slapping his chest in annoyance. "Let me down this instant, Captain Bentham!"

Royle's jaw clenched. "Very well." He let her slip to the ground. Misa tried to step away from him, but her knees had gone weak, and she stumbled right back into his arms. His raised brow was all Misa needed to see.

"I can walk," she declared stubbornly. Moving her hand from him to the wall, she put some weight on her legs and found they were refusing to function. An odd tingle buzzed up her ankles and shocked her knees. Muffling a groan, Misa found herself falling forward, her legs still unable to support her weight.

A strong arm encircled her waist, stopping her midfall. "Do you still want to walk?"

Misa sighed in resignation. "No."

Once more, Royle picked her up in a smooth motion. Misa couldn't look at him, and she glared at the wall with a flush of anger and embarrassment. "How'd you know?"

"Hmm?" Royle paused to open a door.

"How'd you know I wouldn't be able to walk?"

"You were in shock."

"Shock?"

Royle stopped by the bed and let Misa down. She sank on the mattress. Her body trembled without him by her side.

"Yes," Royle said. "I've seen it happen before, mostly in young children who witnessed something traumatic. They could barely function, let alone walk. See? You're still shaking."

Misa tried; she tried so, so hard, to stop her body from quaking. She clenched her hands together, but she still couldn't keep them under control. Royle bent down in front of her and clasped her hands, engulfing them in his warmth.

"Stay here," he said. "I'm going to give Tika a proper ritual."

"She's Nisha's sister," Misa blurted out. She expected surprise, a look of disgust, or even confusion. Instead, she got a knowing look, a grim understanding.

"I know." His grip tightened slightly.

"And I have her magic." Misa wanted to cry, but the tears refused to fall. "I have Tika's magic. She's related to Nisha, and I have her magic."

"Misa," Royle said sternly. "Listen to me. Tika is nothing like Nisha. They may share blood, but they couldn't be any more different. The magic you have is in its purest form. Tika would have made sure of it."

"How would you know?" Misa yelled. She snatched her hands from his, wondering how he could even look at her knowing what she had become.

"Because she saved my life." Royle gazed into her eyes. "She might not have been all that innocent, but I know she changed. There was good in her. She sacrificed her life when she saved me. If I died, she would still be young and alive."

"She lived for over a century, Royle. And she gave it to me. She gave me the magic she gained while she massacred villages to prolong her life. How much blood has been shed because of the magic running through me? I have a killer inside me." Misa buried her face into her palms. "I have a killer inside."

"It wasn't the magic that killed innocent people, Misa. It was her choice. Her will. You are not a killer. You never will be."

Royle tugged Misa's wrists from her face. He plucked the hat from her head and put it on the bed next to her. "You can do good with that magic. You can stop an evil that wants to devour the world. Or if you really don't want to, you can find a way to get rid of it."

Misa gathered the courage to look into his eyes, and suddenly, she became aware of a rugged beauty in Royle, something that was so achingly beautiful and familiar and right. His words rang true in her ears. She had the power to choose what she could do with her magic, even if it meant never using it. She wasn't a killer. She would never be one unless she chose to be. A weight lifted from Misa's chest, and though it was only one brick from the pile that weighed her heart down, Misa felt like she could fly.

Misa brought her hand up, ignoring the warnings blaring at her from her rational consciousness, and ran her thumb along Royle's brow, slipping her palm against his cheek.

"Tika saved you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The captain's breath hitched. He didn't move away from her touch. "She did."

"Will you tell me about it?"

"Let me give Tika a proper farewell," Royle said, touching her hand. "Then, I'll tell you."

Misa didn't know if he really would. She remembered that he was not keen to let her know anything about him, especially if it came to Nisha. But, when Royle looked so sincere and real, Misa could only cling onto his words and believe him. She was sure she would have believed anything he said at that moment, but she didn't really care. All she saw was the tenderness that had her heart racing ever since she had glimpsed it at that tavern.

"Promise?"

Royle squeezed her hand before pulling away. "Promise."

With a reassuring smile, he stood and exited the room. Misa fell to her side, sinking her head into the pillow. She watched the door, counting the minutes as she drew circles on the blanket with her fingers.

Royle's words echoed in her mind. She wasn't a killer. She would never be a killer. Tika wasn't a killer anymore when she passed away. An overwhelming sorrow swept over her at the thought of the witch, though she wasn't sure why. Perhaps she should have at least thanked Tika for saving her life. That was one thing she had in common with the captain.

Odd, she thought, that a witch of all things could connect her and Royle.

Bound by magic.

Misa froze. She sat up, shaking her head in disbelief. What was she thinking? She could never be with Royle. Not when she was a witch. Not when he could get in the way of her goal. An hour passed, and Misa still couldn't stop thinking of Sha'ka's fortune, wracking her brain to interpret it in any other way. Surely the magic that bound her and her supposed lover couldn't be an actual witch.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when Royle entered the room with a slight scent of smoke billowing from his clothes. She had no idea why she felt as if she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't.

Royle settled down next to her with a sigh, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face into his hands. The sorrow she saw in him chased her thoughts away.

"Are you okay?" Misa's hand hovered over his back, hesitant, before she touched him.

Royle dragged his palms down his face. "She was like a mother to me. I've been preparing for her death for years, but I didn't think the day would ever come. I've said my goodbyes countless times in the past, but it's..."

"Difficult?" Misa offered. She rubbed his back, hoping to comfort him in the same way he had comforted her.

"Yes." Royle clasped his fingers together and rested his chin atop them, gazing at the wall but seeing something that wasn't in the room. "It's not so bad because I knew she was going to die. At least, I accepted it long before it happened. There was a distance between us. Even though she was the closest thing I had to a mother, I could never get too attached to her."

"I can't believe she's dead." Misa withdrew her hand. She hadn't seen Tika's body, thankfully, but the fact that the witch had been alive mere hours ago made life seem so insignificant. Tika, a witch as powerful as Nisha had passed yet time moved on as if nothing had happened. "I'm...sorry for your loss."

Royle remained silent for a few minutes. Misa wondered if she'd said something wrong. She fidgeted, waiting for him to say something. Anything. Misa could see the tension in him, and she knew his mind filled with everything that had happened. Perhaps even more than what Misa had experienced with the witch.

"I promised to tell you how Tika saved my life," he finally said.

Misa nodded but didn't reply, fearing that if she spoke, he would change his mind.

"But I can't separate it from my first encounter with Nisha." Royle straightened, relaxing his arms. His fingers found his pocket and pulled out his uniform's button, which he'd turned into something akin to a charm or a trinket for when he was deeply contemplating something. "Back at the purgehouse, you said you believe I see you as more than just a tool. Well, it's true, I suppose, to a degree."

Misa processed his words, trying to decipher what they meant.

"I...I trust you, Misa." Royle glanced at her from the corner of his eye as if to gauge her reaction. Misa gave him a small smile, and he continued, "So, I'll tell you. I told you I came from a village in the south. What I didn't tell you is that my village was burned to the ground in a ritual that gives witches their youth. Nisha..." He paused to recollect himself. "Nisha slaughtered my village to reverse her age."

A small gasp escaped Misa before she could stop herself. That explained why he was so hellbent on finding Nisha. She couldn't imagine what he must have gone through.

"Tika stole me away while Nisha was busy with the ritual. If she stayed, she would have gained the years with her sister. She chose to save me that night instead."

"Royle..." Sympathy flooded Misa. She wanted to embrace Royle, to give him the warmth he'd searched for in Tika after he lost his family.

He stiffened. "That's enough talk for tonight. Go to bed, Misa. I'll see you in the morning."

The distance between them cracked open. Misa watched him drift further away from her as he walked towards the door.

"Goodnight," he said with a curt nod. They were worlds apart. Misa couldn't reach him no matter how far she stretched her arms.

"Goodnight, Royle," she returned, resigned to the fate that kept them so far apart.

When he shut the door, he was unreachable.