Witch Bewitched (COMPLETE)

Chapter 28 (Pt. 1)

Misa awoke at mid-morning, when the sun peeked through her drapes and blinded her through her eyelids. She squinted through the brightness, groaning because she felt drained. Her body was heavy as she lifted it to sit. Whatever Rithian had in mind for tonight, Misa wasn't sure she'd be strong enough to withstand.

Misa pulled herself out of bed with what little willpower she had left and drew a bath for herself in the connected washroom. It was a lavish bathroom—one she would never have set foot in with her family's social standing. Tiled with black marble and filled with scented soaps near the porcelain tub, it made her feel strangely out of place. Misa relaxed in cold water, too impatient to have it heated up before she jumped in. She tried—again—to slip the bracelet off, smearing soap in the crease where it met her wrist, but it seemed to clasp tighter around her bone when she pulled. Giving up, she circled her arms around her knees, and she found herself staring at the gentle ripples in deep thought.

Everything she'd learned from Rithian wheeled around in her head in a whirlwind of emotional turmoil. Of all the spells she could turn to, why had it been bewitchment that found her? Why couldn't it have been fortune telling like Sha'ka or enchanting objects like Rithian?

She had figured she'd be able to learn other spells that would allow her to use such abilities, but she didn't want to know more about witchcraft than she needed to. It was dangerous to consume such knowledge, and even after she rid herself of her magic, she would have to bear the baggage that had come with it—the sick knowledge of how to bewitch others.

Misa sank into the water, allowing it to cool her cheeks and caress her hair with its cold fingers. She only came up when she felt her heart burn with the need to breathe. It was a cold comfort that she wanted to stay in for the rest of her life, but she forced herself to finish up.

After drying herself, she slipped on a bathrobe. She had no intentions of leaving for the day, especially in preparation for the training she would be faced with that night, so she let her hair down, kept the door locked, and drew the curtains so the room was blanketed in dim light.

The servants had knocked on her door for their daily chores, but Misa sent them away with the promise that she would take care of it herself. Eventually, they left her alone, and Misa sank into the bed with her sketchbook in hand. Firelight danced beside her from the lamp she'd turned on to light the paper. She held her charcoal over an unfinished sketch, thinking of where to go next.

Nothing had taken shape yet. She had wanted to sketch the building behind the fountain, but she couldn't remember any of the details. The black lines had only created an empty skeleton that lost the inspiration Misa had held dearly when she began it. With a sigh, she ripped the page out and crumpled it.

The blank page behind her missing sketch taunted her. She pressed the coal on its soft surface, but she didn't know what to draw. Frustration, anger, fear roiled inside her, bubbling into steam. She began to move her hand, letting her emotions lead it on. It circled around, slashed the cotton, stabbed blackness into shadows. Misa scribbled, her hand moving faster and faster, creating something on the page that absorbed her vents, all the hate that had boiled in her, the ugly emotions that would inevitably prove Rithian right.

Misa drowned in the coal, she drowned in the whirlpool of nonsense it created, the monsters lurking in the shadows, a young girl with her back turned and hugging her knees, her ankles shackled, clawed hands reaching through a cage to devour her, to take everything she had.

She was so absorbed in bleeding into her art that she didn't notice the pounding at her door until her coal snapped in two. Small pieces scattered over her bed, leaving a trail behind them. The servants would not be happy. Her turbulent storm declined until only a drizzle was left in its wake.

"Mikim? Are you inside?"

The drizzling stopped. A ray of sunshine peeked through the gloomy clouds. Misa breathed, dispersing the dark grey, slowing her heart. She gathered the broken charcoal and balanced them on her sketchbook. It took effort for her to slip off her bed and release her supplies on the desk. She didn't even bother to change into her uniform or put her hair up before she unlocked the door.

"I've been inside all morning," Misa said through the open cräck. "What brings you here?"

He noticed. Oh, he noticed. The captain's eyes narrowed. He surveyed the surrounding area before he pushed through the door and entered, shutting it behind him before anyone could peek.

Misa stepped back only because he had practically shoved his way in. She gazed up at him, not caring that she was in a bathrobe that didn't hide her femininity.

"Are you out of your mind?" he hissed.

Misa shrugged. "What can I say? I want to be comfortable, too."

He opened his mouth to retort but stopped. He studied her with those experienced eyes, scanning through her like she was a book. Misa let him. She didn't care anymore. She was too exhausted to care.

"Are you alright?" he asked. It was a question she'd always asked him when he was off. She started to nod, but her lips began to tremble.

"I'm fine," she rasped, though her body betrayed her. Her voice cracked, and her throat bobbed. Misa couldn't stop a single tear from slipping past her eye, which she forcefully wiped away. "I'm completely fine."

"Why do you lie?" It wasn't an angry question. Rather, Misa sensed concern.

She drooped her shoulders. There was no way she'd be able to lie to the captain when she couldn't act to back herself up. She went to rub her eye but remembered the coal staining her hand. She managed a wobbly smile.

"It's all just catching up to me. That's all." It was the truth. All the emotional mess she'd been dragged through in the past weeks had taken a toll on her. It wouldn't take much more for her to break down, and she was doing her best not to reach that point.

He nodded, but Misa could see the doubt in his eyes. She forced herself to gather her pieces together. This time, her smile was more convincing.

"We found the door," she said, injecting a cheery tone in her voice. "Don't you think we should celebrate? You promised to have fun, remember?"

He waited, still scanning her. When Misa said nothing more, he finally gave in to the changed subject. "It was never a promise."

Misa punched his arm. "Oh, you insufferable bastard." She laughed, feeling a weight lift off her chest just a little.

He smiled. "But I won't lie and say I disagreed. I suppose one night of drinking won't hurt."

"That's the spirit!" Misa clapped. "Tonight then! For dinner, we can go to a bar and have some fun."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret this?"

Misa huffed, crossing her arms. "Oh, don't you worry. You'll have enough fun to make up for the boring life you've had so far. Now what have you come here for?"

"I wanted to brief you on the next stage of our plan."

Misa let out a small groan. She was too exhausted to process new information, and her secret training with Rithian was filling what little storage she had available in her mind.

"But..." He paused, prompting Misa to look at him. His eyes still shone with concern, long lashes framing them and a sharp intelligence evident in their gleam; Misa was struck by a sudden thought that they were beautiful. Cold, yet beautiful. She wished to paint them one day.

"Perhaps you need rest. We've completed our main objective, so I suppose we don't need to rush things."

"How very kind of you, sir." Misa grinned to let him know she was only joking. "If that's all, then shoo. I'm going to prepare for the celebration."

"It's barely past noon."

"You have no idea how long it takes for a woman to get ready for a night out. Go!"

After pushing the captain out of her room, Misa leaned against the door for a breath. She really wasn't going to do anything but draw today, but she supposed drinking would help her loosen up for her lesson with Rithian. She grimaced. A few drinks wouldn't hurt, especially when she was feeling so down. Just enough that she wouldn't be drunk when she started her magic training. It would be a fun night.