Rogue Eight

The Tamed Witch

Chapter Twelve:  The Tamed Witch

ALPHA ROMAN

Slowing walking down the pathway of the tiny house which I had meticulously designed to house and contain my facet of supernatural weaponry, Kristoff’s description of the Rogue 8’s own weapon replayed in my mind. While I was furious at Loa’s lack of information where the witch was concerned, I was also incredibly intrigued by the illustration of her powers as told by my former Beta. 

I was aware of rumors the Rogue 8 had use of a witch, but up until now, it appeared much like my use of Loa.  Although I was sure their relationship was much more friendly than I had chosen with my weapon.  With the money they had acquired performing various biddings for the smaller packs in Nicholas’ region, they could undoubtedly obtain the employment of talented magical servants to create potions and emit shields should the need arise in battle. It was one of the things I admired about them, their intellect and planning abilities in battle.

However, what Kristoff described was much more in depth, much more powerful, and I couldn’t help but feel this witch was not simply under their employ, but in fact, integrated in the Rogue 8.  While I had only been given a glimpse of her powers, my desire to force the Rogue 8—most of all, the witch—into my pack increased ten-fold.  My plans for gaining full and total control over The Leadership Council and thus, the regions, had been long in their placement, skillfully thought out and designed.  Unfortunately for them, this included the death of all members of The Council, especially Nicholas. 

I loathed his father, Aldric, and upon his death, my distaste transferred to his just as righteous son, especially after Nicholas made it very clear that my long tenured form of rule and expansion of my pack would no longer be tolerated.  He had twisted and strengthened The Leadership Council’s resolve more than I had anticipated—an obvious underestimation of precisely how much stronger he was than his father who himself had been a formidable opponent—to the point I received the threat of forced dissemination of my whole life’s work.  And that would just not do…

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a small decorative silver cylinder.  It helped in my discussions with Loa if I visually held her life in my hands.

I walked into the sparsely furnished house to find Loa sitting at a small table in the dark corner, slowly stirring her tea.

“Well, well,” Loa’s shaky voice called out, her senescent eyes never leaving her cup, a hint of sarcasm in her accommodating tone, “Two visits in one day.  What a treat, my old friend.”

“We have known each other for many, many years, haven’t we Loa?” I kindly returned, maintaining the façade of calm civility between us, “Which is why I was quite surprised at Kristoff’s recollection of his failed mission this evening.”

“Oh?” Loa dully inquired, still concentrating on her tea, “Did he try to deny that there were she-wolves involved in his embarrassment of the failed mission?”

“No,” I chuckled under my breath, “No, Kristoff admitted to that.”  I pulled the chair out to sit directly in front of her as I darkly murmured, “Seems there was a witch in the clearing.”

Her spoon stopped, but remained in her hand as Loa’s deep brown eyes moved ever so slowly up to meet my intense glare, her offended tone harshly trembling out, “Witch?  What witch?  I saw no witch in that clearing!  He lies!”

I brought my hand up between us, flipping the top of the small silver cylinder to reveal a little black button and grazing my thumb over it, “He was quite detailed, Loa.  Makes me curious if you are not the one withholding information from me.”

Loa’s eyes shaded over in determination as she brought her arms out in front of her, clinking together the large black metal bracelets attached to her wrists, “You with your threats, Roman.  What will it be today?  The slitting of my wrists?”  Her fingers quavering up to the large black metal collar around her neck, “or the slitting of my throat?  Or perhaps you are genuinely enraged and will slit both, finally releasing me from my torturous life a slave in this prison.”

“I do admire your bravery and defiance, Loa,” I laughed out, closing the top but keeping the cylinder in my grasp, “You are never one to back down, knowing I love the challenge.”  As the last word passed through my lips, my wrinkled brows furrowed, twisting the white that covered them until my anger began to reveal itself.

“I did not see a witch, Roman,” Loa exasperated out, the fury building in her own tired adamant eyes giving me the answer with regards to my question of betrayal, “However, based on your current state, I take it the witch was quite powerful.  Perhaps making you wonder if it was her power that hid her from my vision or whether I have finally reached the end of my usefulness to you.”

Another veiled smile crossed my face as I ruefully countered, “I know of what you are capable and what a useful weapon you are to me, my old friend.”

“So,” Loa slowly drawled out, sitting back slightly in her chair, “Information on the power is what you now seek.  What spell did this witch perform so magnificently?”

“She force-shifted Kristoff and the remaining men back to their human forms,” I told her, staring intently at her crinkled features for any hint of knowledge or hidden truth.  Fortunately for her, I found none. 

Loa’s right eyebrow shot up in curiosity, “Force-shifted, you say?  And as it has been proven, the ability to hide from my experienced skills.  My, that does take a powerful witch!  One with not only talent, but dedication and determination in the education of her craft.  Sadly, as distrust of our kind has grown over the years resulting in the deaths of more powerful sorcery family lines, there are so very few witches nowadays that could accomplish that kind of focus and power.” 

I wickedly grinned, “Yes, I believe that force-shifting was one of your more favorite tricks in your youth, was it not?  I remember it being used in many battles that you and I fought together.”

She paused for a moment to remove the spoon from her cup and wrap her hands around it, bringing the wobbling ceramic surface up to her lips to take a small drink of it before answering, “Indeed...my youth taken so very long ago now.” 

Following another sip, Loa eyed me as she pondered with a smirk, “Tell me, Roman, am I to worry that you have found a replacement for this old woman?  Are my days finally numbered?”

“You and I have been together too long, my dear Loa,” I torturously stated, a wide smile crossing my face as I stood up to take my leave, “I would miss you too much!  But perhaps, I can gift you with a new roommate.  I do worry about you being here alone so much.”

LOA

After Roman left, I pushed back the long grey hairs that now mixed heavily with my once silky black mane, grateful to be left alone.

Quietly sipping my tea, I reminisced about the youth that Roman spoke of.  I was once the eldest daughter of one of the oldest and most powerful sorcery families ever to exist in this world.   A family held in high regard because of a special gift that had been passed along over multiple generations.  A gift that my beloved younger sister had been bestowed and I had been denied.  We had been intensely close until that day.  A day that found me breaking our incredible bond. 

In the denial of my greatest desire, I became angry, jealous, and worst of all, bitter.  So bitter that I left my home, my family, and my sister, promising never to return and never forgive them what I felt was my right— the gift should have been mine.  So intent with my rebellion, I joined forces with Roman.   

For a time, his appreciation of me fueled my vast talent and confidence.  As a result, just as I had turned my back on them, my family turned their back on me causing more deep-rooted anger.  But as time went on, I found my conscience riddled with guilt as Roman’s passion for complete dominance and control crossed lines that morally, I found harder and harder to cross.  It seemed my family, my education, and most of all, my sister had ingrained principles that even in anger, was still held within me. 

One night, Roman had commanded me on the following morning to kill every child of the Rising Wind pack as retaliation if they refused to join him.  After arriving back to my room, what started out as restless sleep, turned into the most beautiful dream.  My sister came to me in a shared vision between us.  Her powers had grown in my absence, and it was then that I was forced to admit the gift had been given to the appropriate sister. 

As we talked, I saw with my own eyes that her heart was pure, unadulterated, and filled with a strong need to bring goodness and love to our world.  So much so, she could even see that there was good left in me, something I had lacked seeing in myself for a long time.  She still believed in me and wanted me to join her in her upcoming quest, leaving Roman and my current life behind.  I quickly agreed and became excited at the notion of once again having our powers joined together as one to face her challenge. 

We had formed a plan for my escape that very night before saying our goodbyes.  I instantly woke up and began mixing the cloaking potion needed to escape and begin my new journey.  I was soon to discover however fate had also been provoked that evening.

As I was finishing my mixture, Roman burst through my door, bringing with him another powerful witch, Miranda.  She was the last of her line after a mass ambush of their family home, perpetrated following their misdeeds with a group of rogues who mounted an attack against Alpha Lorenzo, killing a dozen of his men over a land dispute.  As it turned out, she was also the center of my sister’s mission and the reason I was returning to fight by her side.    

Miranda was filled with the same bitterness I had when I first arrived on Roman’s doorstep, making her an easy target for his own misdeeds.  In my stunned state at their arrival, I was left unprepared for Miranda’s attack as she quickly encased me in a bright red light that rendered me unable to move, frozen in place as she applied the potent spellbound metal casings around my neck and wrists that continue to this day to refrain me from any ability to use my powerful sorcery, aging me more rapidly in the process, and are rigged with razor sharp blades that could end my life at Roman’s discretion.  Her first mission from Roman complete, Miranda beamed at him in satisfaction as she placed the small silver cylinder in his hand, my fate officially resting with him forevermore.

While I was still under Miranda’s spell, Roman explained to me the events that led up to my imprisonment.  Following my dismissal earlier that evening, Miranda had shown up and offered Roman an opportunity that he couldn’t resist.  She and her family had done extensive research and made plans to attack my sister and rob her of the very gift I gave everything up over, transferring it to Miranda to claim as her own.  Their powers were incredibly strong, making them a formidable opponent when they stood in battle together.  In her distraught state over the loss of her family, a vengeful Miranda felt she was strong enough to continue forward with the plan alone—something that would later prove to be a misguided assumption. 

Roman knew with that kind of power at his disposal, he would finally obtain everything he ever wanted.  He and Miranda made their agreement to proceed with the plan.  As part of their arrangement, following their successful triumph, they would immediately bestow Alpha Lorenzo with Miranda’s consequence for killing her entire family—his death at her hands. 

Knowing there was a possibility that the gift could transfer to me in the event of my sister’s death, they set out to make sure I couldn’t be a threat.  Roman told me that at first, he was simply going to kill me.  However, he had felt my betrayal coming and first wanted to punish me before delivering my final fate.  So, he decided to make me watch my sister die, soon leaving me devastated, helpless, and alone in my room as they set out for the battle. 

Seconds turned into years as I waited for visions to appear in my mind.  I knew how powerful my sister was and could only hope it was enough.   The wait was torture…but what happened next was even worse…

I saw as Miranda charged towards my sister, huge balls of fire emitting from them both one right after the other.  I was in awe of the massive power and serene nobility my sister represented in her fight.  Her dedicated protectors fought alongside her destroying Roman’s first front of warriors.    

As hope was building for my sister to conquer Roman and Miranda’s onslaught, my vision became blinded by a bright white light erasing the unfolding events, a voice calling out to me as darkness set in.

“The time has come.  No one will remember them.  No mention or thoughts of their names should be made.  Roman will return with an altered reality.  Remember that.  Remember who you truly are.  Your sister’s selflessness, bravery, and strength will live on.  All will be revealed to you…when the time is right once more.” 

A tear rolled down my cheek as I finished my tea and my rare remembrance of that night.  I stood from my chair, unsteadily walking over to the loose brick on the fireplace that held my greatest treasure.  With trembling hands, I pulled the faded picture of my sister out of the confines of my special hiding place.  My long thin fingers shakily tracing over her beautiful oval face with wide caramel eyes before my breath held in place, moving my gaze and fingertips over to the little girl in my sister’s arms who was smiling back at me—the spitting image of her mother—as I exhaled out heavily under my breath.

“Raven”