Gold Dust

Chapter 7

The day after the festival, Gwen had no such luck finding a person who would sell a boat to her. Sure, there were many other means of getting off the island, but that involved money. Money which all of the village knew she didn't have, due to Charles loud mouth. If she were to suddenly come up with some gold coin, or other means of trade, the villagers would be suspicious. Something they were already at.

Word had spread quickly about the Witch Stories. That's what they called them. The women had gossiped everything they had heard about, and the children weren't much help as they told their parents and brothers the same thing. It wasn't strange for the villagers to find a stranger who had a different belief than them, however it was the first time they had heard witches instead of Christ. They were all very religious when it came down to their gods, Odin, Frigga, Thor. Even though they don't talk about them much, besides all of their fishing tales, this was the first time they came to realize that some delusional person came up with the ideas of mortal women who had magical powers to do anything.

Which, they were completely wrong. Witches, were in fact, immortal. And no, they cannot do everything. Gwen ought to know. She might be able to heal herself and Gull to an extent, and that she has her own specialty, but there was no way on Emeralds Land would she ever find herself talking with the plants or commanding the clouds. Every Witch had their own way of doing things, their own weaknesses. These people clearly had the wrong idea, but that didn't help Gwen's case.

Any type of friendship she might of had with Aoife had been replaced with suspicion and snappish remarks. It was no doubt that Gwen's spices had done what they could, and she was now a freeloader. She was trying very hard to find herself a boat, something that would fair better on the seas, but unfortunately no fisherman in his mind would sell his boat. And if Gwen was to find something to buy it with, she might get attacked for fear of the talk of Witches.

The town had grown increasingly unfavorable to her, and it was high time to leave.

Gwen knew that, and two weeks has passed since then, and still no way out.

She was trapped on the island, and she knew it. None of the fishermen wanted her on a boat for passage to the nearest piece of land, so that she might forge her way into the unknown parts of Norway, and maybe get into Sweden. It would certainly throw off her pursuers, that much was certain, but there was the alluring scent and excitement that the sea gave to Gwen, and she was helpless to say far from it.

So, Gwen had settled down for making something useful to the village as a way to barter herself out. Weaving tall blades of grass, she made rope, fishing nets, anything that might seem useful. She had taught herself how to do so, when she was but a small child on the rocky shores of Britain. While some of the fishermen seemed to be interested in her nets, most of them scoffed at her. They favored their poles instead, with a piece of straw rope through a hole on the wooden stick, a worm (or in some cases, men bragged about putting bits of cheese on the end of theirs and they were for sure to be in luck of a fish) and the end of the rope attached to a hand carved piece of wood in a shape of a hook. However, Gwen proclaimed that she could catch more fish in an hour with a single net rather than a pole.

Nobody believed her though.

Gwen was trapped. Time was counting down to the end of her freedom, even though she felt like she was trapped in a dungeon already. They were coming. She could feel it in her bones, the winds whispered in her ears of bright red sails and a black crossbones flag waving, coming closer. They were to be soon here, she could tell. The safe haven was no longer a freedom she held, rather a prison. The island was suffocating her. Gwen knew something was going to change, and whether it be good or bad, change was still happening. There was only one Fate Witch out there, even a legend unto her sisters. Nobody knew if she even existed, but Gwen could tell that she was real. And even know, she was manipulating the strings of fate, causing the intended path to come to light.