Witch Bewitched (COMPLETE)

Chapter 32

Commander Vortham's promise of a feast had Misa stuffed by the second servings. He had his servant acquire the largest slaughtered pig from the butcher, then sent another to purchase one more when he felt it wasn't enough for the ten high ranking officers that hadn't already returned to their cities. Misa had been served all manner of pork dishes that day, from roasted loins covered in seasoned oil and mushroom gravy to broiled ribs to fillets served with pork stock bubbled with wine, chives, and carrots. To say Misa enjoyed herself was an understatement, and she could not keep her eyes off the colorful side dishes that accompanied her meal.

Greens, yellows, reds, oranges, and all other hues Misa could only dream of obtaining in her pallet colored the dinner table. It was busy, so busy that Misa didn't know where to look. But every dish was an art, and when Misa did study one, she appreciated the little details the chef had put in. The drizzles of yellow and brown, the flowering greens holding up golden meat, sprinkled with red, orange, yellow, and green bell peppers, the basket of fruits that lay in perfect harmony. Misa would have done anything in that moment to have a canvas before her.

"It's been such a pleasure to have you here, Royle," the commander said, gathering the attention of nearby officers. "And young Mikim has been trained well. He holds himself a lot better than most cadets I've seen."

Royle lowered his knife. "I hope we weren't much trouble. Thank you, again, for letting us stay here, but really, a feast this big was unnecessary."

Vortham laughed. "You haven't changed at all. Still uncomfortable with parties, eh? You need to loosen up once in a while."

Misa tuned them out. She hated boredom almost as much as imprisonment, and nothing the officers spoke about held her interest. She only wished she had someone to talk about art.

So, with nothing else to do, Misa sat next to the captain, twirling her fork in her food, taking a few more delicious mouthfuls, until she could no longer eat anymore. She waited for the feast to end, desperate to get ready to meet Rithian for the final time. Her stomach knotted at the thought. She suspected Rithian had prepared a particularly nasty lesson to remind Misa that she could not defy the witch.

A sharp scrape of the captain's chair against the marble floor brought Misa back to his conversation with the commander. "Unfortunately, Mikim and I need an early night for tomorrow's journey."

"Oh, already?" The commander's bushy white brows shot up in surprise. "It's still so early? Can't you stay a little more? This party is in your honour."

Royle nodded to Misa, and she stood to join his side. "I assure you that you've done enough with the feast. No need to cut it short even in our absence."

And though the commander continued to urge the captain to stay, Royle, with Misa in tow, managed to escape the dining room without drawing much attention. It was a blessing that the other officers were so inclined to enjoy themselves in the gorgeous feast without paying much heed to the guest of honour.

"Not much for parties, huh?" Misa echoed the commander's observations when they reached her room.

"They're not my favorite pastime," the captain replied, leaning against the door. He didn't dwell on the subject as Misa hoped he would. "Shall we get ready to head out?"

With a sigh, Misa nodded. "How will we get past the guards? If they tell the commander that we left, he might not be very happy."

"Not to worry." He rubbed his eyes. "We'll leave in a few hours. Focus on packing everything for now and meet me in the garden an hour before midnight. If we tell the guards we're only going on a walk for some fresh air, we should be fine. Vortham will be asleep by the time we return."

"Okay." Misa surveyed the room that had been her home for the past month. She hadn't grown attached to it, but there was a small clench in her heart at the thought of leaving.

"Start packing then." The captain opened the door and slipped through, leaving Misa alone.

She picked up a pair of baggy trousers that had ended up on the floor in her rush to dress late that morning. The servants had not entered her room to clean as she'd requested, and her room had become a mess without their help.

Shaking her head, Misa began to gather what little she had brought. When she had everything on the bed, she took one more look around her room to check if she had missed anything. Her sketchbook lay on the desk, and Misa paused when grabbing it.

What happens in Harthem, stays in Harthem. Misa swallowed a lump. She peeled open the sketchbook, flipping through her various sketches. The doodles, the bell tower, the fountain, the monsters, and...

Flushing, Misa reached for the page with the intent to tear it out. Her fingers hooked over the paper, ready to rip downwards, but her hand locked in place. She stared at her art, contemplating if she should discard one of her best pieces.

Her gaze trailed the soft strokes, taking in every detail that she had poured into the charcoal drawing. She stared at the tousled hair, the strong jaw, the laxed position with a book in hand and long legs hooked on a table. Her fingers had somehow weakened their grip, and instead of tearing out the page, they stroked their way towards his face.

For the first time, Misa marveled at how good-looking he was. Had he ever had that rugged handsomeness about him, in those deep-set eyes and strong physique? Why hadn't Misa ever noticed it before?

Because you've been bewitched.

Misa started at the voice. She threw down her sketchbook, horrified that such a thought would invade her mind. No. She was not bewitched. Not by the captain, who had not a single drop of magic in him. Where had that thought come from? It reminded Misa of the piece of advice that had helped her bewitch Rithian—a voice not her own resonating within her skull.

It was madness. Misa had to have gone mad. First, she thought Royle was the most attractive man she'd ever seen. Then, she thought he'd bewitched her to alter her thoughts about him. And now, she was hearing voices in her head. It must have been the recent stress taking a toll on her. Losing her family, turning her life upside down, learning magic from a cruel witch. It was all making her go insane.

Shaking her head and taking a deep breath, Misa bent down to grab her sketchbook. She closed it, not wanting to look at her art any longer, and tossed it on the bed. Finding Nisha and defeating her was Misa's only hope now. She couldn't be thinking about Royle as more than a friend, and the sooner she could fulfill her role in his mission, the sooner she'd get away from him and the confusion he swirled inside of her.

"No." Misa said, as if speaking out loud would change her mind. "No."

She slapped her cheeks and told herself, Remember what you said to him. I wouldn't feel anything for him if he was the last man in Plathea.

But even as she tried to convince herself, Misa was just not sure how true that statement rang anymore.

* * * *

The moon, still nearly full, glowed down the path as Misa approached the secret entrance to her training room. She found it to be already open and entered it, steeling herself for what was to come. This lesson was going to be much more difficult than the previous ones because of the captain's involvement if nothing else. Misa swallowed her dread, readying herself as she entered the lion's den.

Rithian stood at the center of the circle, humming that haunting tune that had Misa's hair sticking up. The witch smiled sweetly when she saw Misa, but Misa knew that there was a sinister meaning hiding behind it. She feigned ignorance.

"Am I finally going to learn how to control my spell?" Misa said, hoping Rithian had forgotten about Royle.

"Of course," the witch said. "But before you learn, I want you to see how real bewitchment is done. Allow me to introduce you to someone—someone who I believe is the most gifted witch in the world. She knows everything about bewitchment, and any other spell. I want you to observe. After all, we all learn by watching the best."

Misa's heart leapt to her throat at the mention of another witch. She didn't bother hiding the tremble in her voice as she asked, "You're going to let another witch teach me?"

Rithian sneered, as she so often did when Misa asked a question that she deemed stupid. But then she grinned as if she was having a pleasant conversation, and lead began to pile up in Misa's stomach. There had to be a reason Rithian was being so coy rather than exploding into insults at the drop of a hat.

"I wouldn't let someone else groom your magic under normal circumstances. However, I believe you need to toughen up." Rithian's grin morphed into something more sinister. Predatory. As if peeling her lips back to bare her teeth before sinking them into Misa's neck. "So, I've requested the only witch I would allow take my place."

Misa heard footsteps echo from the passageway behind her. Magic so strong slammed into her that her legs gave way. Misa fell on her knees, her head spinning from the sudden change in atmosphere. Her lungs gulped for air.

"She's here." Rithian laughed, stretching out her arms in welcome. "The only one worthy enough to nurture any witch and teach any spell. The master of all spells. The most powerful witch in the world."

Misa struggled to twist her body just for a glimpse behind her. Rithian's announcement of the powerful witch's arrival drove sharp pounds in Misa's ears. The magic was oppressive, more so than Rithian's, and even worse than Tika's. How could something so potent and suffocating exist?

A sharp pain nailed into Misa's heart. She let out a cry and she was unable to stop the tears from dripping down her eyes. The piercing in her heart, as if a knife was being driven in and twisted and nails were being hammered in all at the same time, was so strong that all Misa could think about was running away. High pitched noise overwhelmed her ears, tearing tissue. Blood trickled to her chin, mingling with her tears.

"Make it stop!" Misa screamed. She could barely hear her voice. Her whole skull rang, and an unbearable high-pitched screech scratched at her eardrums. Any more, and she was sure her head would explode. "Please, make it stop!" Palms over her ears did nothing to stop the pain.

"Oh, dear," a calm, cold voice echoed from the passageway with the same intensity as the magic. "It seems I've overdone it. I can't quite remember my strength these days. It must be my age."

The screeches stopped; the needles in Misa's heart faded away. A drape lifted off the air, and Misa gasped for breath. She gulped the cold air rushing into her lungs, relishing in the freedom that came without such an oppressive force pressing down on her. The pain in her ears subsided as whatever damage repaired itself.

"As long as your magic hasn't devoured hers, it doesn't matter. It must have been painful, Misa." Misa heard no sympathy in Rithian's words. "Magic is like a drop of water, you see. When a larger puddle comes close enough to touch it, it will be absorbed into the larger body of water as if it never existed. Of course, the life force tied to your magic would follow, resulting in a dried-out husk that dissolves into dust."

Misa sniffled, pulling her blurred gaze up. She had no strength to ask what Rithian meant. The presence of the powerful witch behind her made her want to hide in a deep hole and never come out.

"It's because you haven't cloaked your magic," Rithian's companion said. "It wouldn't have been so bad if you kept your magic hidden."

"She only wanted to learn about bewitchment," Rithian explained. As clarity returned, Misa realised that Rithian had deliberately avoided telling her about cloaking her magic to prevent more powerful witches from absorbing it.

"Then about bewitchment she shall learn."

The new witch's presence pulsed behind Misa, her magic reaching out as she passed by. When she reached Rithian, Misa took a close look at her. Luscious brown curls draped over a pale heart-shaped face, and large gray eyes framed by long, thick lashes gleamed mischievously with more knowledge about the world than most would ever dream of having. The witch was beautiful. So dangerously beautiful that Misa was afraid she'd morph into a hideous monster that would match the power pulsing from her.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the witch said, smiling down at her. "I am Nisha, the witch of protection."