Death's Awakening

Chapter Four: The Witch

The witch drifted in and out of consciousness, trapped inside a web of dreams.

Sometimes, she dreamed of Tobias. Of following him through the forest endlessly, tripping over stumps and roots, but never catching up to him. Sometimes, she dreamed of her life when she was a little girl in the Council's orphanage. She was playing in the courtyard, catching fairies with her bare hands.

Other times, she dreamed of a girl with purple eyes.

In between the dreams, she saw only glimpses of the world she was now lost inside. A dark night with shadows all around and a single bright globe of a moon shining above. Or once, a flash of green grass and the blazing heat of a distant sun.

She was hovering on the edge of consciousness now, the crushing heat and the hunger in her belly begging her to awaken and seek food and shelter. Water. But something deep inside the earth drew her down, back into the depths below.

She fought against it, but the pull was too strong. It crashed over her like a wave, rolling and rolling, until finally, it dragged her under.

Her awareness seemed to fall and fall, deeper and deeper into the ground until suddenly, it all stopped. The pain, the noise. The heat of the day was replaced with a refreshing coolness.

She lifted her head and opened her eyes, slowly at first, then wide.

What was this place? Was she dreaming or awake? She couldn't be sure anymore, but the goose bumps that rose across her flesh told her this was real.

She pulled her cloak tighter, shivering as the air grew colder. She was on her knees in a small chamber. The walls here were frozen, blue ice coating the stone in a thick, solid layer.

The witch's eyes were drawn to a block of ice in the center of the room. The sight of it sent chills down her spine. Her breath came fast and heavy, turning white like smoke as it crossed her lips.

"Come to me."

The voice was inside her head, and her eyes widened. Even though it filled her with fear, she couldn't turn away from the block of ice. She had to obey the voice in her head.

The witch stood, her legs weak and wobbly.

Each step pained her. How long had she been lying in that field? Days, maybe. Her stomach groaned, and her head throbbed. Her bones creaked, and the muscles in her legs protested. She wanted to lie down and sleep, but the voice drew her forward. At first, her body shivered terribly, but as she approached the stone, she began to warm. Slowly, raw heat trickled into her blood stream, each drop giving her renewed strength. Her heart raced. Her lips parted. Her cheeks flushed.

What was this place?

She straightened, moving faster.

A form appeared inside the ice, and the young witch gasped and clutched her chest.

A woman. Her body thin and frail, and her lips blue with cold. The woman's eyes were closed. Thick ice crystals formed on her lashes as if she'd been asleep for centuries. The young witch stepped closer, her eyes locked on the woman's pale face. She looked so peaceful sleeping there. How had someone so beautiful and warm ended up in this cold, hard place?

A rush of sadness flooded her heart. She ached for this frozen woman. She loved her without knowing the first thing about her. Tears welled up in her eyes and fell across her cheek, freezing in an instant and falling to the icy ground where they shattered. The witch lifted her trembling hand to the ice near the woman's face, wanting to caress her. To find out why she'd been hidden away in this frozen dungeon. But instead of the cool slick feel of ice, her hand began to burn as if she'd placed it directly in a blazing fire. She tried to pull back, but she couldn't move. Some invisible force held her there.

Panic flashed through her. She thrashed and crouched, throwing all her weight against it as she screamed in pain.

Then, the ice woman's eyes opened with a pop.

Red as the purest ruby, but filled with a fiery purpose.

The young witch stopped moving, paralyzed by those red eyes. Her heartbeat throbbed against her ribs, and her throat closed in fear.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice a frozen whisper.

The woman's lips did not move, but her words were strong inside the witch's head.

"I have many names," the frozen woman said. "I am the Dark One. The First. The Necromancer. The Twin. I am the one true fear of our people. And the one true hope."

The witch's palm burned, and she nearly fainted from the pain. Her eyes closed and she fell to her knees, her hand finally breaking free of the ice. The skin on her palm was blistered and raw, damaged beyond repair. She curled her legs toward herself and rocked back and forth, cradling her injured hand like a baby in her arms. Tears streamed down her face in a frozen waterfall.

She fought against the agony, struggling to stay conscious. Every muscle in her body tensed, and she clutched her head between her forearms.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she cried.

There was no answer at first, but when she lifted her eyes to the woman's face, she saw that the figure in the ice was staring back at her. Studying her. Her blue lips turned up into a small smile.

"I had to prove to you this was real and not a dream," she said. "You have no idea how long I have been waiting for you. You are special, my young one."

The witch sobbed and shook her head. "No, you're wrong," she said. She swiped at the frozen tears on her cheek. She couldn't think straight against the pain. All she could do was hear the memories of past voices, telling her she would never be special. "I am no one."

"You are everything to me," the frozen woman said.

The voice was soft in her mind. Sweet and delicate like a mother's final whisper before sleeping. Only, the young witch was being lifted out of sleep now. She became aware of the warm ground beneath her body and the heat of the sun against her cheek. She fought against the waking, wanting to stay with the Dark One where she was special and wanted. But there was work to do.

And someone was shaking her.

Her eyes popped open to find a man staring back at her. He was young and strong. Handsome. He smiled.

"Hey," he said in a gentle tone. His hand was warm against her arm. He glanced back at an older woman standing there in the field. "Momma, she's awake."

The witch attempted to sit up, but her head spun in circles. Hunger tore at her stomach. She fell back toward the ground, but the handsome man caught her in his arms. She collapsed against him. "Thank you," she whispered. Her voice was gritty against her throat.

"You're welcome," he said. He stared into her eyes like he'd never seen a woman before. Like he was entranced with her. "I'm gonna carry you, if that's all right."

She nodded.

He lifted her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding tight to him. Her right hand ached with pain. Something from a dream, she thought, but she was too weak to remember.

As they walked, she closed her eyes and listened to the steady thrum of the man's heartbeat.

He and his mother talked quietly as they made their way back to their farmhouse. They had found her on their land. A farm far from the nearest city. They had no idea how long she'd been there and were debating whether to drive her to the distant hospital or give her time to recover in their home. The hospital would be expensive, though, and they didn't have much extra.

The older woman commented on her dress and cloak, wondering why a young girl would be wandering around out here in such strange clothes.

The young witch had no answers for them. Only silence.

By the time they reached the farm house, the man's mother was coughing, and the young witch was drifting off to sleep, dreaming again of the girl with purple eyes.

Yay! Thanks for reading! <3  Things really start to heat up next week, and you'll meet Crash for the first time. Can't wait! New chapters M, W, & F!