All Chapters of Magic Series: The Witch: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The life of a pub has always enthralled me. Dimmed lanterns of warm gold coating the thick walls and tipsy patrons in a faint glow. An ever present hue of warmth that paired well with solicitous ambience and over-filling meals. The joy that would be gleefully roared between swigs of mead, vixens dancing happily as money was thrown towards their barely covered bosoms and the occasional brawl breaking out in between dance breaks and liquor rounds. I’ve always been jealous of those women. Living a life filled with pleasure and mild riches. I would enjoy having a man, hopefully a skilled man, desperate for a taste of me. Not having a care in the world other than filling my pouch with coins and jewels. Most would call it a selfish lifestyle; to only entertain the company of man for the sole purpose of being pleasured and reel in pouches upon pouches of money.I would agree with what most call it. Of course there would be risks.Dealing with those that aren’t skilled in the art of sex a

“Why did you want to talk to us?” Tawny asked. “I’m sure it wasn’t to rant about how jealous you are regarding-”“Jealous?!” Ruzette shrieked, a light shade of pink bloomed on her cheeks. At Tawny’s nod, her pink darken to a bright red. “Why would I be jealous?! I can't believe you would insist on something like that! I'm positive I don't truly seem so!”“Seems like it to me,” Tawny continued with a shrug, “But I’m sure that's not the reason why you asked us to come here.” “Of course it isn't!” Ruzette insisted, “More so since that statement is false, but also because of the rumors I've been hearing. I've heard that-”“Here you go, darlings. Another round of meads and cider.” The wench picked up the empty mugs and replaced them with the full ones. I happily reached over to grab my mug of mead, “I’ll be right back with your food. Cooks almost finished with the buttered potatoes and sandwiches.”Tawny yanked her mug of mead, raising it towards her lips and eagerly gulping down a mouthfu

“Being a witch is more than just waving your wand around.” Mistress Sungul would always say, her own wand poised between her fingers. “We are what mages dream to be. We are what priests fear.”It was almost like a mantra. As Sungul leisurely paced around the room, soaking in my blank stares and gazing at the mist that oozed from her wand, she would repeat herself. Sometimes muttering so low that I had to strain to hear her. Usually, she was boisterous, loudly jabbering on about our roles as witches. Being a witch herself, Sungul was always proud of the status we hold in the world. People would look upon us as if we were gods. Magic was a mystery that most couldn’t understand. It was chaotic, unknowing and seemingly unyielding, and yet to them we were able to control it with a slew of words or a twirl of a wand. To them, being able to wield magic as “flawlessly” as we can was a sign that we were blessed by the gods. “Do you know why we are feared?” She would ask.“Because of our

As I trudged inside my home, welcoming the familiar scent of cinnamon and frankincense, I tossed my bag to the floor and hurriedly slipped off my heels. I hissed as my feet settled on the cool floor. An uncomfortable feeling that I’ve unfortunately grown used to and know will pass as I venture deeper into my home. I adored my little cottage. Tucked away from the constant bustling town and even further from the monster infested forest, it was secluded enough that I was promised enough privacy without having to deal with pesky neighbors but still close enough that I could call upon someone incase of an emergency. I had a garden brimming with common flowers and rare herbs. A selective amount of vegetables and fruits grew from my trees and bushes, purposely chosen for my love towards them. It took a while until this place actually felt like my home. I’ve combed through every inch of my cottage, decorating with carefully picked decor that I’ve foraged for. I wanted this house to repre

There were only so many places that I could comfortably inhibit.A handful of pubs and taverns will allow me in, even less shops and salons. It's a reality that I’ve quickly learned to live with. The anger that was once there has now simmered to the occasional annoyance. Knowing that there was nothing I could do about the way people behave around me, I kept my head low and learned to ignore. The whispers would follow, to which I would disregard. I would dismiss the obvious snubs and sneers, respectfully of course. I wasn’t dumb enough to be outright rude. I could be killed for doing less. Not a day goes by that I fear breathing next to the wrong person, let alone mustering up the courage of being rude. As I peered through the windows, being mindful of the crowd bustling around me and the employees eyeing me in the stores, a dress has caught my eye. It was a gorgeous floor length gown, a lovely blend of soft cream and pastel green. The sleeves were a lighter shade of green, pu