Chapter Text

Chapter One

When your house is haunted, you do not call it a home. A home, according to others, is filled with warmth, warmth you do not just feel on your skin when it comes from an oven, but you also feel this sort of warmth on the inside — in your heart. In this sort of home, you might actually feel comfortable and safe and sound in, it is a home you want to come home to. The other sort of home is not like that. It is more like a haunted place where the ghosts of a tragic childhood spook around in from time to time, with memories coming to hunt you down. There is always a tension, a fear inducing atmosphere, a bad feeling in your gut and you wish you could run from it all. But there is no leaving, no simply walking out of the door one day and never coming back, it is not an option because you are strangely bound to this place, this haunted home. You cannot just run because you became attached to the cold flooding through every wall and crack until it reaches your soul, it has taken over your every warm emotion and blew out all the candles. And you always feel cold, it is not just that your fingers never seem to be warm and your hands are always cold, it is the general feeling you have when you are home. It is a cold unnoticed by others, even when they step foot into the house you would love to escape from. They do not notice the dark rain clouds just waiting to break down and ruin it all over again, they do not notice the light rain that is a warning before the storm comes down on you. And the storm is usually coming to drown you, not just in your darkest thoughts but also in other ways—many ways, many destroying ways. If one wants to survive, the only option is to learn how to float in those dark waters that deny you any chance to swim.

Ophelia never learned how to be a good swimmer; she was busy trying to simply stay floating on the water instead of getting drowned once again. The first time she was drowned was before she even had a name, as a newborn infant, only hours after her birth.

A mother in despair is certainly not a good one, especially when she is also doing things to her own child out of pure hatred. She never wanted to have a child, and after her dreams were shattered, she not only had to live with the disappointment but also with other consequences, including the consequences she had to birth. And she also had to bear the consequences of choosing a cursed brook to drown her infant in by accident—or maybe it was fate stepping in when she failed and her daughter survived.

Moreover, the infant not only survived those dark waters; they also changed the child forever and blessed it with their cursed nature and their magic, as one could quietly say. And those gifts were not the only things the girl received that day; she was also given a significant name. What she was never given, however, was a chance to learn how to control the gifts she had received from the brook; she was never allowed to try and use what was given to her.

Her cold mother despised only one thing more than she hated her own child—the magic it held. In the age of witch-hunting and the burnings, a child like hers was a true curse for the whole family, especially the parents, and in her case, just the mother, because there was no father left to push the blame onto. She had been left the second he heard that she was with child, and it had been up to her ever since to keep that child from endangering her. If she had been a stronger woman, maybe she would have managed to get rid of it, but she was not, she only became a crueller woman than she had been before.

Cruel and dark describe the upbringing of Ophelia quite well, since there had not been much light in between the dark rain clouds and the thunder in her own home. And when the rain or the thunder was not to be felt, there still was this cold feeling, always lurking in the cracks and within the child.

Always lurking inside of her was also this idea of escape —this idea of one day finally being brave enough to actually leave for good. Maybe, she had thought several times, there was only one final nail in the coffin missing that was the key to her freedom—only this one reason needed for her to say it was enough and to finally leave. She had always hoped for this kind of enabler to freedom to happen, because no matter what, she had not yet found the courage to leave without it. The inability to simply leave on one‘s own wish or decision could be called weakness, but really it was fear. Fear of what was to come after her decision to leave; fear of the unknown world outside her haunted house and the town she really was just a guest in.

But then, one day, fate drove the final nail into the coffin. This day felt like the start of an adventure in one of Ophelia’s books—when the hero finally starts acting like the role they have been assigned to and when heroic deeds like saving the damsel in distress or fighting the dragon that killed their family are done. However, Ophelia‘s start to her heroic adventure had a level of tragedy too—unimaginable and a normal peasant’s worst nightmare.

The beginning of the day was dark, as usual, before the sun finally granted the town a visit in the early morning. And there had also been no rain yet, also due to Ophelia still being asleep. It was a lovely morning indeed, with the sun shining and the mother leaving the house early to run the much-needed errands. So Ophelia was left to her own devices, for once not blamed for the bad weather since there was nothing to be upset about on that particular morning.

When Ophelia woke that morning, her bare feet only felt the usual cold of the wooden floor planks against them, but not the fear-inducing atmosphere since her mother was not home. A feeling of relief went through her, and a soft smile formed on her lips. She genuinely felt happy about being on her own already. Being on her own was her most favourite thing in the world; the dearest memories were knitted to those circumstances. Whenever she had been left at home or left behind without a warning, she truly felt free. Free of the fears and anxieties for once, she was getting a much-needed break, and the home felt less haunted for those hours when she was alone. And this day was not different from others like this.

Ophelia had plans—even big plans—for this day. First, she would make herself breakfast and then head off to the woods, escaping her home like every day. Every day she would sneak off to get a glimpse of true freedom, and today was no different. The difference, however, was that her soul felt more free when leaving an empty home.

Trading the wooden floor planks for the soft forest floor, she was now off, heading towards the town. Maybe she could trade freshly picked wild berries for something she would fancy there later that day. Or maybe she would meet one of the very few friends she had there. Friends was maybe exaggerated a bit, but at least she was friendly with about two villagers.

Her usual route was more than familiar to her; she did not need to pay much attention to it; her feet led her automatically through the woods. Soon, she would reach the best berry bushes, and a bit behind that, she would find a small lake.

But suddenly, something made her stop in her tracks—something she had gotten a glimpse of in the corner of her eye. Curiosity made her stop and walk back a few steps to get a better look at what she had thought was something attached to a tree. And Ophelia was right; there was an advertisement sheet attached to the tree trunk with a nail. She had not seen one of those for quite a while now; they were rather rare this deep in the woods. And what Ophelia now read was rather unusual too.

The advertisement sheet was a short text from a group of performers who were looking for gifted people to join them. It seemed normal—pretty normal—but the way the gifts were described and the examples given made Ophelia wonder if she could fit what was wanted. And getting to perform at local fairs while travelling through the country also sounded great to her. Maybe she could actually use her abilities for good and make a better living for herself. Swiftly, she decided to ditch the wild berry picking and set off towards the town to go and try her luck instead. If all went well, she would be free of the haunted home forever by tonight.

Her decision and curiosity eventually led her to the town square, where a herald was already making a proclamation.

“Hear ye, hear ye,“ the man dressed in blue called at the top of his voice. “My name is Cuthbert Tumbler, and I am here to inform you all about the opportunity of your lifetime!“

It luckily seemed like Ophelia had already found what she was looking for, and attracted by his words, she stepped closer to the small crowd gathered around the herald.

“Heed no longer your life of poverty and pain, because here I am to help you get away from that—if you’re gifted enough and have special talents entertaining enough to attract the crowds,“ the herald boldly guaranteed, putting on a welcoming smile. “And I promise to have your best interest at heart and to make you a valued part of our performer family. You should really meet the rest of us and also come to our little show tomorrow afternoon at the marketplace.“

He truly sounded like a good man to Ophelia, who did not have much contact with people from outside her village. “Doesn’t this sound like the perfect opportunity to get away, and such a nice one too?“ she thought while listening on, getting more and more won over by his words and promises.

“So, if you think you’re a matching fit for our spectacular group and if you promise to be dazzling, you are welcome to meet us later at the tavern.“

Those words were all Ophelia needed, getting her to think her future would be bright and dazzling. And so she strode off towards the tavern with nothing but optimism, but also with a tiny bit of fear, wondering whether she would be able to control her powers enough and if she could actually make it into the group. Joining the group of performers had become her new dream; being able to leave this town behind and travel around sounded so exciting to her.

She was also not the only one who started dreaming of fame, as Ophelia noticed when she eventually stepped foot into the tavern of the town. There were already at least thirteen other villagers waiting for the group to start their audition process. A handmaid was waiting to try her luck with her juggling skills, sitting on an old chair with her daggers. Next to her, the miller was quietly warming up his voice and thinking about what to sing for them. Ophelia also spotted the boy who claimed to speak the language of cats—a really odd fella. And all of them were impatiently waiting.

When it finally was Ophelia’s turn—what felt like hours later—she was not sure anymore if she would be able to do it. What if the rain does not come? What if she fails and loses her chance to get away? She was scared to her bones. A lot depended on this moment and also on her.

“So, what’s your name and talent?“ the herald from earlier, Cuthbert Tumbler, asked while resting his forearms on the old wooden table in front of him. His words sounded worn out; who knows how many times he had repeated them prior to now.

Ophelia’s voice was a bit shaky, but she tried not to let it show as she spoke, “I’m Ophelia, and my talent is that I can make it rain.“

“Rain?“ Cuthbert slowly repeated, raising his eyebrows in a sceptical way, while his men did not seem to quite believe her either. “Well, then let it rain, dear Ophelia.“

Ophelia nodded swiftly, pressing her lips together while trying to focus on her powers. She could not fail here; she knew that she only had this one opportunity. After pushing those fears away, she then took a deep breath, breathing in slowly, concentrating on her feelings, and calling the rain to her. The room was filled with silence, with Cuthbert and his companions waiting eagerly to see her talent, until the first small raindrops met the window. The more Ophelia concentrated on her powers, the heavier the rain became, and she sensed clouds approaching through the mild pressure in her fingertips. And where there had once been sunshine, the room was now shadowed by a cloud as the rain pelted against the window harder. But while Ophelia breathed a sigh of relief after her success, Cuthbert got up from his seat with a look of horror on his face. Slowly, and despite his whole arm shaking, he managed to point at Ophelia before loudly screaming at the top of his lungs, “Witch! She’s a witch!“

And with that deafening scream, everything went downhill. As if they had been ready for this to happen, two of Cuthbert’s men shot up, swiftly took Ophelia by surprise, and tied her up before she knew what was going on. They also did not leave her the time to even get one word of defence out before throwing her into a broom chamber—an improvised prison cell.

And there she was now, in the dark, her hands hurting from still being tied behind her back, and her whole body flooded with fear, unable to escape. Regretting every wish of getting away, Ophelia breathed unsteadily and fast, feeling like she was fainting every second yet staying wide awake. She wondered but also did not want to know what would happen next or what her fate would become now. Another few hours probably passed, but Ophelia had no idea because she had lost all feeling for time.

The assembly had their reasons and receipts, and even their pitchforks were already ready when Ophelia was led into the courtroom on the next day. They had come to get her early in the morning, and the morning dew was still visible on the grass when Ophelia was dragged from her improvised cell. It was said that they are burning all the witches, even if you were not one, and it was rumoured that they mostly did it for public entertainment. They would most likely light Ophelia up without giving her a chance to explain and defend herself. But just as likely, Ophelia was sure that the rain was going to come to hopefully save her, especially after getting her into this trouble.

“There will be rain and revenge,“ Ophelia thought in a morning warning that no one heard while being pushed to the front of the courtroom by the men who had captured her.

At a long judge’s bench in the front, they were already waiting for her with their bibles and the Malleus Maleficarum — the Hammer of Witches. The room was also filled with spectators, only waiting to hear the damning words from the judge. They were loud, demanding to hang or burn Ophelia immediately, and this scared her. The way they were screaming for her death already, without having heard a single word about what happened, was a terrifying feeling.

When she reached the front, where she was supposed to stand, she was not let go off, despite not having a chance to get away anyway. And an all-too-familiar face stepped next to her now too. Cuthbert Tumbler had paved his way through the crowd and smoothed out his blue cloak before speaking to the judges directly.

“This is the witch I caught yesterday evening. She has cast rain and a storm on us. I have my men to confirm this; they saw everything too. It was her!“ Cuthbert loudly said, drowning out the noise of the crowd.

“I am not a witch,“ Ophelia tried to counter, but she was receiving a hard dig with an elbow into her ribs to make her shut up.

“Do not listen to her mendacious words, your honour!“ Cuthbert swiftly let out, as if it were hard for the judges not to decide in Ophelia’s favour.

Everyone in the room knew that the judges wanted her burned, just like they did. Cuthbert knew that they would decide against her, and Ophelia knew it too. She knew that she did not have a single chance, not even the right to defend herself. Her fate had been decided even before she stepped foot into this room.

“She also said herself that she can make it rain,“ Cuthbert further added, also to let the crowd know. “That was a confession!“

And suddenly another voice, a female voice, was heard, “It’s true! She’s a witch! I’ve seen her practice those powers before! She is that outcast who always wanders off to the woods to cast spells.“

Heads turned in the direction of the woman, and everyone focused on her, eager to find out who said it. Ophelia also turned around as much as the men holding her allowed. But what she had to catch sight of was a new level of horror she had not witnessed yet.

Her own mother stood there, with all eyes on her and a determined expression on her face. She would make sure her daughter would burn and finally vanish from her life. Now was the time to turn her life around. She was finally able to get rid of that unwanted and dangerous daughter of hers. And she also did not show any reaction when Ophelia made direct eye contact with her.

“That makes a total of seven witnesses, which should be enough,“ declared one of the judges with a satisfied smile on his chapped lips, and all heads turned back to the front. “The verdict therefore is guilty.“

An artificial pause followed, during which everyone seemed to be holding their breath. They all wanted to know how Ophelia would have to die.

“Burn her,“ it was softly said, with a touch of already feeling amused by the proceedings and the fire.

They had simply believed the accusations, not even wanting a demonstration or to test Ophelia. The whole trial really was set out for death and public entertainment.

The stake was also already set up when Ophelia was dragged out of the courtroom, a cheering crowd behind her following with their pitchforks. They would get what they had wished for. They would be entertained while Ophelia would die in those flames. Especially for a small town like this one, such an event was really uncommon.

In this mad chaos, where everyone was excited, Ophelia was scared, but she also felt that this would not be her end.

Like they said, they’re burning all the witches, so light me up, Ophelia thought while roughly being dragged closer to the stake. She also hoped that a storm would come fast enough to crash this party and save her.

And although the sight of the stake was terrifying, she remained outwardly calm and serious. She would not give them a fear-filled show; she would not plead or scream for help. She did not resist, even when she was led up and firmly tied to the stake. This seemingly confused a few villagers in the crowd, but the majority kept going with their calls and their joy.

“Burn her, burn her!“ were only a few of the constantly repeating shouts from the crowd. “Burn the witch already!“

Up on the stake, she actually got to see all of them gathered here; everyone in town was about to watch her die. Ophelia spotted the miller and her mother in the crowd beneath her. Maybe that woman will now finally find peace with her daughter, who will soon be dead and gone. Or maybe Ophelia should have accused her mother too, and that woman would now be right next to her—at least united in death. But she was not this cruel; she would never be the one responsible for her mother’s death. Ophelia had a heart that was too good for that; she was simply too kind, even after everything today.

Being focused on staring her mother down, Ophelia did not even notice that they had started lighting up the stake; only the smoke let her know now. Soon, she would be burned. But she could not panic right now; otherwise, she would not be able to save herself. Steady breaths were key for this to work—for the rain to come and put out the fire that was starting beneath her feet.

Ophelia had to concentrate harder than ever, and she closed her eyes to do so, fading out the yelling crowd around her. Breathing in, through, and out and calling the rain was all she did. They had wanted to burn a witch, so now they would get the witchcraft they secretly feared so much.

Nevertheless, Ophelia not only felt the mild pressure in her fingertips, but they were also shaking a bit from fear she had suppressed. But at least she now knew that help was on the way. It would not be long until she would not only feel the rain coming in her fingers but also feel it against her skin.

Clouds were already slowly gathering, filled with rain that would come down any moment now. Ophelia turned her gaze to the sky, opening her eyes again. And just as she looked up, the first few light raindrops came down from heaven. A few met her soft skin, falling onto her cheeks, and Ophelia knew that she would win this.

The crowd also noticed the rain that had started now, but only a few looked towards the sky, too. Maybe not all of them knew what this meant, because not all had been in the courtroom earlier. But the ones who knew more about Ophelia’s powers seemed a bit concerned now.

A light smile crept onto Ophelia’s lips before she loudly screamed as the rain intensified, “Who’s afraid of little old me?“

And now the rain not only fell heavily, but a storm was brewing too. The fire that had been lit beneath Ophelia was basically put out within seconds from when the first raindrops had fallen. This also caused some villagers to flee from the upcoming storm.

“Well, you should be,“ Ophelia, who was soaked by now, called after the fleeing ones. And then she freed herself from the shackles and leapt from the stake while more panic among the villagers broke free. When it is “Burn the witch,“ they are cheering, but when the fire gets put out, they are screaming. In the streets, there was now a raging panic, while Ophelia almost levitated down from the wood pile onto the ground.

Around her, people were trying to get away from the stake as fast as they could, pushing others away and selfishly only caring about themselves. And while they were busy fleeing, Ophelia managed to escape almost unnoticed. Maybe they also wanted her gone after recognising her being an actual threat.

Escaped with just a shock, she was now heading towards the woods again. Certainly she could not stay in her village and home now, but she was not quite sure yet where to go. Maybe the neighbouring villages already heard of her being a witch too, which would mean that she was not safe there either. The options she therefore had were reduced to going somewhere far away from here, which honestly was a bit of a problem to her too, since she had never been outside of her village and the neighbouring woods. But since the danger of staying was not worth the risk, she had no choice in the end anyway. Ophelia would set off to new lands, doing the one thing she always dreamed of: getting away for good.

Woodland paths were all she saw for the rest of the day while following an invisible route and being oriented by the sun. Ophelia had never been in these parts of the woods, but she swiftly adapted to walking into the unknown. And the wild berries she picked here and there were a rather good snack. Overall, she felt rather good, despite the bad morning she had. There were better starts to the day than almost getting burned at the stake.

She also decided to learn how to control her powers better since only calling the rain and storms to her was not enough now. Who knew if they would send someone after her, and she needed to be ready for that case. After all, she had no idea how to fight in the slightest and also did not own a sword or dagger. And even if she had owned one, she could not have gone back to get it anyway. The only weapon she had with her was herself and her powers. And if she did not want to end up dead, she would have no other choice but to learn how to control those powers.

But how does one learn how to control such powers? Trail and error? But would it not be really noticeable when she casts storms even if she did it hidden in deep woods? So training was a danger in itself. Maybe there was another way too, but she was not sure at the moment.

If it is cloudy anyway, maybe it would not be this noticeable, she thought. Now the weather just had to meet this condition, which it currently did not.

The further Ophelia walked, the closer she came to the end of the day. It had certainly been several hours since she had left her small village, and her feet grew more and more tired when she walked on. Maybe, she thought, it was time to look for a hidden sleeping place to rest for the night. This deep in the woods, surely no one would find her, and she was hours away from where she was probably searched for. And if she built something to hide her just enough, even if they look for her this far away from the village, she should be safe. But where she currently was did not seem ideal, so she walked on.

The woods were already saturated in the twilight when Ophelia eventually came to a halt at a small lake she had just discovered. This would be the ideal place for her to spend the night. Of course, the lake was a bit of a risk, but it did not seem like people came here often since there were no footprints on the banks.

Ophelia breathed out longishly when her feet finally stopped walking at her rather fast pace. It felt good to finally get to rest, and her body certainly needed it, already aching from all the walking. Carefully, she stepped towards the water, hoping to get some refreshment before trying to set up something for the night. Her feet sank into the muddy ground even more as she stepped closer, and it felt a bit exhausting walking on that ground, but she was too distracted by the promised treat.

Carefully, she squatted down at the edge of the lake before slowly dipping her hands into the cold water. But when her first fingertip met the water, she swiftly withdrew her hands from it after being met with a feeling that scared her for a second. It had felt like a tiny bolt of lightning touching her fingertip when it met the water—something that had never happened to her before. Startled by this, her breathing fastened, and she turned her shaking hand towards her to see if there was something different on it. It seemed normal, but it did not feel normal. It also felt different from the mild pressure she usually felt in her fingertips when she called the clouds. This different feeling scared her at first, not knowing what it meant or was, but she also considered that it was a good sign.

Curiously and carefully, she moved her hand towards the water again. There was only one way to find out what the feeling had been, and it was to simply dip into the lake again. Her fingers were still shaking a bit, but it did not matter to Ophelia in the moment. Slowly, her forefinger met the wet, and she felt the new reaction immediately again, but this time she did not pull away. Taking deep breaths and concentrating on her powers, she dipped her finger in even more, so that the first section of her finger was already in the water. The deeper she pushed her finger into the water, the stronger the pressure in her fingertips got, flooding up the rest of her finger and her hand too.

She now also dipped her other fingers into the water, and the feeling intensified once again. Ophelia had to breathe against it by now, since it felt overwhelming, strong, and overtaking. But it also somehow made her feel less exhausted, despite being so hard to endure. Maybe I can get used to this feeling before letting my whole hand up to my wrist glide into the water, she thought. The water’s reaction to this made her wince, but she did not pull back out. She wanted more, and she wanted to see if this did more to her than giving her more energy.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

After hearing of an entire village being ravaged and the locals frightened to death, a call to arms for a witch hunt was launched in the entire county. Hunting witches who endanger whole villages is normally not one of the classic tasks of a knight, but someone with the required abilities had to join the amateurs. And said someone was the knight wrapped in dark copper-coloured armour, Keith Campbell, who had just returned from another adventure.

He had barely put down his bloody and dirty blue surcoat in order to exchange it for a clean one after finally reaching home when there was a knock on his door. With a sigh, he crossed the sparsely furnished room and opened the big wooden door of his country house. Hopefully, it was just his old and curious neighbour who wanted to hear about where he had been off to.

“Ah, there you are, knight Campbell! I hoped you had returned already,“ the town’s mayor, who stood before him instead of the old neighbour, greeted Keith with a smile.

Would I ever get a second to myself? No, they could never give me peace, Keith thought while trying not to come across as too rude as he forced himself to lightly smile. And then, despite those thoughts, he said in a rather nice tone, while trying not to let the sarcasm he intended show too much, “Yes, luckily for you, I have just returned.“

“Good. And I hope you are ready for your next mission. As you might have heard, a witch is haunting our neighbouring village, and they have asked us for help. And when I was thinking about whom to send, you were the first that came to mind.“

This was literally the last thing Keith had wanted. He literally just returned from an assassination and had wanted to take a break before picking up work again. Can’t they send someone else? He thought while also trying to come up with an excuse to decline the mayor’s request.

However, not letting Keith get in a word of refusal, the mayor went on, “I also heard some of the poems celebrating you for your deed and that you’re known as a hero in the South. And I must say, I am impressed and proud to have you as a resident. And I think killing the witch would surely add to your heroic name and reputation.“

My heroic name and reputation? Maybe he does have a good point there, Keith thought, changing his mind about it. The poems written to celebrate him and his fame as a hero did flatter him, he had to admit. And more of that—maybe even having a heroic saga—sounded great to him. And therefore he declared, “I’ll do it.“

“Excellent! But be careful; she has cast rain, clouds, and even a storm back in her village, so she is rather dangerous,“ and with those words, the mayor slowly started to say his goodbyes.

She what? A witch that actually has powers? Keith blinked twice, questioning if he had heard it correctly. Normally, witches were ordinary women with no powers who were disliked by someone—sometimes for no reason—and they almost never had actual powers. He had never before encountered an actual witch, but he had already accepted the quest and would have to do it despite his slowly rising fears.

Equally to his rising fear earlier today, he increasingly had the impression that he had been searching in the wrong direction all along when he got off his destrier in the middle of the woods hours later. Searching, finding, and killing the witch never sounded easy, but Keith’s earlier enthusiasm had worn off completely by now. His armour had additionally become uncomfortable and felt even heavier on him, and he also needed a break from sitting on his horse the whole time. Maybe he should have taken some of his men with him, but he felt threatened by losing the chance to be the one striking her down.

While Keith was still in his thoughts, his destrier took the chance it got and stuck its head into the tall grass to graze. “At least one of us is getting something out of this trip in the wrong place,” Keith muttered as he watched it.

Taking a deep breath, he stretched himself a bit, trying to wake his body up and get a bit more comfortable again in the armour he was wearing. He knew that he would have to decide what to do next and where he would want to spend the incoming night. Maybe choosing the next direction first, which he would go for regarding the search, would lead to the other yet unresolved things. To take into consideration where he was currently heading, he looked up at the sky to see in which direction he would move if he continued going straight forward.

But when he actually looked up to the sky, something different than the sun immediately caught his eye. There were quite a few clouds up there, which normally was not unusual for the local weather, but Keith could tell that something was off. The clouds seemed to move way too fast in one direction, but no strong wind could be a possible explanation for it, since Keith only felt a light breeze against the back of his head. Taking into consideration that there was not enough wind for the clouds to pick up that speed, Keith figured that the cause must be supernatural — just what he was looking for.

“Maybe we’re not in the wrong direction at all!” He eagerly smiled at his horse before mounting it again. His enthusiasm was back too, just with the hope he had gotten from the supernatural sight above him.

Following the clouds moving way too fast seemed like the right decision in the end, since he noticed game escaping from where he headed, which was a good sign. He would surely find the witch somewhere in that direction, which meant that he had to come up with some sort of actual plan now. Leaving behind his horse and sneaking forward in order to not make too much noise usually worked, so it surely would do the trick here too.

Nevertheless, he still needed to be careful, since he had never dealt with an actual supernatural being before. Keith had hunted other men and false witches before, but never something with powers like this. But on the other hand, how bad could rain or a storm hit him? She surely would not be able to fight against him with something that was actually threatening; apart from her rain powers, she was just a weak woman.

Before he advanced further into the target direction with caution, he tied his horse to a tree in order to make sure it would not leave without him. If it were not for the loud armour, he would have sneaked, but it simply was not possible, and those rattling noises of the metal could be a potential warning to the witch. But it was a risk he needed to take, since he otherwise would never be able to catch her.

The more steps he took, the darker his surroundings became, and the clouds overshadowing him were a good sign that he was getting closer too. Keith was on the right path, following an invisible trail on the forest floor to his target. He simply let himself be led by the clouds again, but also by a strange feeling he had. It was as if he literally felt the supernatural presence he was approaching.

So it really is entirely true, he noted in the back of his mind, erasing some last doubts. I am here to kill an actual witch.

A short while later, he also started to hear the sound of water, which only meant one thing: he was really close now. And either there was some sort of lake nearby too, or she was experimenting with her powers. He had to be ready for both cases; he needed to be ready with his sword. Swiftly, he drew it before stepping through some bushes and following the sounds further.

Adrenalin was pumping through his veins as he carefully walked on, and he looked around for a sign of the witch. He knew that she was really close; he felt it. Despite the loud armour he wore, he still breathed through quietly before taking the next few steps. After this was done, he would surely become a hero known to the whole country, not just a few counties like at the moment. When this was over, the dangerous witch would be dead, and he would be a famous knight, which was a price he would gladly pay.

And in a shadowed lake, he finally found her, floating in the shallow waters. What was even better was that it seemed like she had not noticed him yet, being busy with laying in the cold water and not moving in her soaked lilac dress.

What is she doing? Keith asked himself, narrowing his eyebrows in confusion. Did she drown? But not in those shallow waters… he further questioned. And then he followed that thought: Maybe I could drown her. It surely would make things uncomplicated, and she still did not seem to have heard him yet. He put his sword away swiftly.

Slowly, he stepped towards the water, his leather boots sinking into the mud where he walked, and he tried to be as careful as he could. And when the water eventually reached him, it got even harder to walk forward, and the feeling he had was back too, and even stronger the closer he got to her. While he was fighting against the water, the witch was seemingly still focused entirely on herself, doing nothing but floating in place.

Is it really this easy? He asked himself after finally reaching her. There she was, below him, eyes closed and could have been declared dead already considering the paleness of her skin. How long has she been in these cold waters already? It must have been hours.

As fast as his armour allowed him to move, Keith got down on his knees and got his hands into position to press the witch underwater. What a pity… but I have to. But the moment he touched her soft but cold skin, he recoiled his fingers due to the shock he had received. It felt similar to the supernatural presence he had felt earlier, but much more intense. And she must have felt it too, since she opened her blue eyes in the same second he backed away. Keith could have sworn she would be mad and ready to kill him, but she simply looked at him in total confusion and fear.

To kill or not to kill her now... To use her moment of shock and overcome his own was his last chance, he feared. He tried to draw his sword again, but she was faster with her powers. With only one slight movement of her hand, a huge wave hit his side and pushed him onto his back, holding him captive with the water, he was seemingly unable to fight the stream.

While Keith coughed out the water he had accidentally inhaled in the process of getting overturned, the witch had already gotten onto her feet and breathed heavily as she looked down at him with panic in her eyes. And yet, in her shocked and surprised manner, she still held her hands spread out towards him, having her weapons ready to strike again. Her wet, light brown hair was sticking to her face, just like her dress did to her body. Not the worst sight when I’ll die by her powers.

“Were you sent by someone who wants me dead?” She eventually got out while trying to calm down her breathing.

Keith was still busy trying to fight against the water when she asked the question, and only now he noticed how his armour had begun to rust at an unnatural speed. He already felt some parts becoming unmovable and really stiff. He had to get out of the water fast, or it would be too late! And therefore he suggested, “Yes, I was, but can we please talk about that after we get out of these waters?”

“Of course.” The witch sounded a bit unsure, but she did agree to it and lifted her wet dress a bit to be able to walk better towards the shore, also leaving him some space and taking the wildest water streams off him.

“Thank you.” Keith breathed a sigh of relief the moment the water let go of him and he moved his rusting armour in order to get up somehow. Moving in this wet, extremely heavy, and now also rusting metal covering was not easy at all, but he somehow did manage to get up after a few tries.

“Well, thank you for not drowning me,” she replied with a light laugh that was more of a nervous reaction than one of kindness. Overall, she still seemed like she did not quite know how to handle this situation at all.

“Don’t be too hasty about that.” It only seemed fair to him to warn her and not have her believe she was in safety. After all, she had just spared him.

Her light smile vanished in that second. “Right.”

Keith carefully waded through the water and tried to think about what to do next since he technically still had to kill her. Maybe he had better chances of doing so on land, without a wave near him that could drown him instead. But at the same time, he had to acknowledge that she did not seem like the powerful monster in the stories they had told him. She has the powers, but she doesn’t seem cruel at all; being scared fits it better. Or all of that is just a trick to make me underestimate her. She could be like a siren, only waiting to lure me to my death.

After they both met the shore, the witch wrung out her dress a bit, while Keith immediately started checking how rusted his armour was and if he could do anything against it. If he were to still kill her, as much more movement as possible would clearly be of advantage. He also wondered how her powers had managed to make him rust so fast. And while he was still inspecting his metal plates, he did not notice how the witch’s focus shifted towards him again. 

“May I ask you something?”

He stopped in his movements to look up from his armour. Originally, he had not wanted to get to know her at all; he never took the time to actually talk to his victims and also did not hear them out. But since she seemed scared and completely insecure despite her powers, he agreed. “What is it that you want to know?”

“What’s your name?” She curiously asked, as if they had met at some marketplace in a small town instead of the way they did.

He blinked twice. They normally don’t care about me, who I am, the one who hunts them down and kills them… “Keith Campbell.”

“I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but I’m not sure about that.“ She seemed a bit relieved that he had answered her at all, despite being aware of the still-existing danger.

“It’s probably not,” he agreed, and then paused for a second. “But luckily for you, there will be enough time to find that out,” he added without batting an eye. Why did I just say that? I’m still going to kill her, won’t I?

He was not the only one confused with himself; she also traded that relieved look for a confused one. Well, this is unpleasant. He had to do something fast, and breaking the silence to keep her talking seemed like a good new tactic. And he also strangely wanted to get to know her a bit more too. “And you are?”

Her expression was hesitant, but she told him, “Ophelia.”

Forgetting all the good manners he ever had, Keith laughed out loud and said, “Of course that’s what you’re called.”

“Why is that amusing to you?” Ophelia wanted to know, but there was also relief noticeable again in her still confused look.

“Oh, come on, I literally found you in a lake!”

“Of course,” she let out a breath in relief, and a soft smile formed on her lips.

I wish I didn’t see that. It is literally getting hard to focus on what I am here to do when she looks at me like this. By God’s bones, I might be in trouble.

“What were you doing in there, by the way?” Keith took the chance not only to distract himself but also to get some answers.

“Uh, I was sort of recharging, I think... I don’t know; I haven’t really trained my powers before, like... at all.”

“Are you telling me that you don’t really have control over your own powers?”

“I-I wasn’t allowed to use them.”

Keith could guess why. She would have been charged with witchcraft earlier. “So your family tried to keep you safe.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Ophelia countered.

He gave her a questioning look. “Why not?”

“My mother made sure they would actually burn me. She called me a witch at the trial.” The disappointment and sadness in her voice were bold.

Betrayed by her own family... haven’t seen such a thing for a while. It was not like Keith did not have any empathy in him at all. “Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright, she never liked me anyway,” she swiftly brushed it off.

That is not something someone should say about their own mother. But I need to stop feeling sorry for her if I want to complete this mission. And I also need to stop looking at her in ways I should not be looking at her.

“What about your family?” Ophelia then asked to change the topic a bit, and maybe because she was really curious too.

“Do you always ask strangers that many questions?”

“I don’t know; I don’t really meet new people.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” It was her curiosity that betrayed her. “Have you ever been outside of your village at all?”

“Well, I’ve been in the woods surrounding it regularly,” she replied, trying hard to come off as somewhat experienced.

“So you have no idea where you currently are?” Keith asked while trying to be nice about it. It was not his style, but somehow his cold side did not show as much as it usually did.

“That is not what I said. I know in which direction I walked; I can read the sun, you know.”

An amused smile formed on his lips; he couldn’t help it. “And I did not call you a dalcop.”

“Good. Because clearly, I am not one. And I literally could have let you die in there, in case you further want to underestimate me somehow,” she said, with a nod towards the lake.

“No need for the reminder.” I think I’m starting to like the way she is… damn it! “But thank you again for sparing me.”

“You’re welcome.” A smile formed on her lips again. “You’ll do the same to make it even, right?”

“Uh, first of all, I spared your life first by not drowning you. So we already are even.”

“But I wouldn’t have reacted to you trying to drown me if you hadn’t tried to do it. You getting into the situation of almost dying in there is your fault alone, so technically we are not even yet! You did not spare my life because I was the one stopping you from doing it! I saved my own life!” Ophelia made it more than clear to him that he was in the wrong.

She might be right about that… But I can’t just not kill her, right? It is my mission; I can’t let this or anything else get in between it—between me and the fame this will get me.

“Alright. Let’s settle on not being even yet, I would suggest.”

“I sure hope we settle on the truth!”

She definitely did not seem like someone who lets anything slide, and Keith had to realise that. The look she gave him additionally spoke volumes too. Why am I kind of impressed by her talking back like that?

“Why are you giving me that look?” Ophelia caught his thoughts right before he could hide them away safely.

She noticed?! Ugh… I mean, “I’m not giving you anything! This is how I normally look at people who are an active threat.”

“Why do I get the feeling that I should not believe you?”

“Maybe because I am here to kill you?” He suggested with a shrug in order to help her make sense out of it.

“Oh, please, if you would have wanted to kill me, I would already be dead. Or more likely, you would be at the bottom of the lake by now.” Ophelia corrected him once again with a smile on her lips, being so sure of herself. And admittedly, he knew deep down that she was nothing but right with everything she was saying.

Nevertheless, he could never admit that she was right so easily; it was his ego starting a protection move. “We don’t know that for sure.”

“Yes, we do.”

“No,” Keith countered, lightly shaking his head.

“I must say I am disappointed to notice that you are not as bright as you are fairest.”

Did she just? She did not say that! How come she is this bold? … —Wait, did she just call me good-looking too? Confusion was written all over Keith’s face since he never would have reckoned with anything like this. The women he usually met were never this straight-forward at all. The only ones who talked that way were... to be found in a brothel. “Are you a strumpet?”

“I beg your fucking pardon?”

Not a strumpet then... just me being a dalcop. I think I am certainly in huge trouble now. I should have just asked more discreetly, if at all… Why did I have to ask? How do I fix this now? Wait, why would I want to fix it when I’m still— “My deepest apologies. I think I might have swallowed too much lake-water.” … there goes the worst apology and excuse ever.

Ophelia hesitated while continuing to look at him in disgust until she finally spoke up, “I agree with that assumption.”

“I am really sorry about that. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” I really would want to know, actually. Why am I trying so hard to make it up to her? I am here to kill her and get my reward. Focus! — Not on her!

Keith took a deep breath to get himself to focus on what he was there to do again. In the meantime, Ophelia’s eyes wandered around them a bit. Maybe she was checking whether he really had come alone, or maybe she heard something. It could have been a deer or any other game.

“What?” Keith asked after noticing what she was doing.

“I thought I heard something, but I’m not sure.”

This was not really something Keith liked to hear. Who knew what it was? It surely could be some amateur looking for the witch or someone who was more skilled, someone like Keith. But it also could have been some birds, and they were both just very jumpy at the moment. Nonetheless, he had to figure out what to do quickly when he did not want to have to rely on the witch beside him. Coming up with some sort of plan should not be hard for him; he was a master at strategy, not just on the battlefield.

“If it’s human, you’re just a weak woman, alright?” He glanced at her for reassurance while he spoke those words quietly.

“I’m not a weak woman!” She spit back as quietly as she could, and the slight resentment in her eyes was back.

He expelled air through his nose, trying not to get too annoyed with her already. “Ophelia, please.”

“No.”

“I’m just try—“ Keith tried to start his explanation, but both of them were interrupted by more noises coming closer to them. Their heads turned in that direction almost immediately.

“… No, you’re right. Go be a knight,” switching up her opinion within a second, Ophelia took a step back to be behind him.

Great. Should have known she wouldn’t be brave enough. And this is seriously who at least two villages are scared of... I would laugh if it weren’t for the possible upcoming fight.

The sword was drawn the second Keith actually saw a head in between the bushes and trees of the wood. He possibly would have to fight for their lives in only seconds... or it was just some civilian not knowing what was going on. Both possibilities had to be considered in all cases. Never underestimate your enemies; under no circumstances, it can cost you everything.

The closer the man Keith had seen came, the more it became obvious that it was not someone in armour at all. The simple clothing of a farmer fitted the description best. A breath of relief came over Keith’s lips when he was able to be sure enough that it was not a danger. The sword swiftly went back to where it belonged in order to look more neutral. Ophelia noticed his relaxation and let her hands hang down normally too. Apparently, she had decided to be his backup just in case something went down.

“Act normal.” His whisper was most likely unnecessary, but he liked having the safety of having told her.

“Funny of you to say after dragging me through the whole woods all day long with barely a stop. And now this—look at me, drenched! My sister was right; I should have married the fisherman of our village instead! He never would have gotten me soaked like you with your failure!” Ophelia loudly threw at him, with wild gestures too, basically making it into a huge scene.

“What are you doing?!” Keith asked quietly, but with a lot of panic in his voice, which even turned into some sort of hiss, “That is not what I meant by normal!”

“No, I do not want to hear another one of your lame excuses! You are shit at catching anything.”

This cannot be her plan. He might have overlooked us being here at all if it weren’t for her. I should have known she would cross my plans again. His gaze surely could have killed her right away, cutting right through where he had failed to stab earlier.

“Oh, greetings, fellow travellers.” The man, dressed like a poor farmer, greeted them with a smile.

“God save you.” It only seemed polite to reply as nicely as he had started the conversation; at least, apparently, that was Ophelia’s plan.

“Wow, I haven’t seen an actual knight in a long time.” The focus clearly shifted towards Keith now, since the alleged farmer only had eyes for him now.

At least someone admires me without trying to kill me first. “Then today is your lucky day.”

“I can tell! With whom do I have the pleasure?”

“Keith Campbell.” He must have heard of me; he surely has.

“Oh, what an honour! I have heard all the poems about your latest heroic adventures! You are known in my village of course! You are the famous hero the knight in blood!”

“Actually, it’s dark copper.” Keith corrected the man. He always had to correct people about his armour’s colours.

“Yes, I see that. But blood sounds so much more epic, don’t you think?”

“I think rust would fit it best.” Ophelia intervened eventually.

That woman! Keith couldn’t believe how bold and outrageous she was. He hated it, but somehow it was also to his liking when she spoke freely like this. He laughed her comment off: “You must excuse my wife; she is still rightfully mad at me for messing up going fishing.”

This lie was not what Ophelia ever expected him to say; he could tell. But she also gave him a look that expressed that she would tease him about it later, especially about the rightfully mad at him part. Can’t wait.

“Don’t worry, I know exactly how this is; I’m married myself. And she can sometimes be quite a witch.”

Self-control was key now—to both of them. Keith, thankfully, knew how to perfectly stifle laughter. He worried a bit about Ophelia, though.

“That is not a nice thing to say about the woman you love.” Ophelia seemingly had her own technique to deal with this, erasing all of Keith’s worries about her.

“Oh, she calls me all sorts of names in return; don’t worry. But I’m glad to see that you have not reached that state yet.” The man turned a bit more towards Keith again. “So what adventure brings you here?”

It might be known that I am on the witch hunt too; we need to be clever about this. “I’m actually on a witch hunt. And since the traces lead south, I decided to bring my wife since we have family in the region and haven’t seen them in quite a while.”

“That’s lovely.” The lie really was. “Oh, here’s an idea. You could come with me to my village and trade your heroic stories for free accommodation.”

Considering that the sun was not so high anymore since it was already afternoon, this actually did sound like a good idea. And the farmer was buying the wife lie, so why would not the rest of the villagers do so too? But before deciding, he swiftly exchanged looks with Ophelia, just to not get thrown under the horse again.

“That does sound like a great idea!” Ophelia accepted swiftly with a smile before he could say a word.

“Right, but we’ll have to get the horse first.” There was no way Keith could forget about his loyal destrier, who was still waiting for him to return.

“Of course, I’ll wait here for you,” the farmer said.

“Do you think we’ll manage to be convincing enough?” Ophelia asked Keith when they were finally at enough distance from the farmer that he could not hear them anymore.

“We have to. But it was also too good of an opportunity to pass.”

“I know. And I think I’ll manage to continue being a bit rightfully mad at you.” A teasing smile formed on her lips.

I knew this would come. Haven’t reckoned with that smile, though… His eyes wandered to her lips only for a short moment, but he wished he would have lingered. “Bet you will.”

“And I bet that it will not be hard for you to pretend like I am your wife.”

“Thank you for noticing that I do make a great actor.”

“Do you really think I wouldn’t notice when a man looks at me with desire in his eyes?“ Her question sounded like a dagger to his throat — coming out of nowhere and getting uncomfortably close.

“You probably mean the desire to kill you and collect the reward.” He surely would not admit anything to her. And he was also scared of where those real thoughts would lead them, and him especially. I am here to kill her.

“If you say so,” surprisingly, she let it go. Maybe it had been the death reminder too that made her lose that smile.

Did I have to remind her? Me? Yes. Yes, I needed to remind myself. I can’t continue like this, not sticking to any original plan.

“You should probably think about a false name.”

“Of course. I have already thought about that.”

Of course she has; she is smart. “And what shall I call you then?”

“Augustine.”

“Lovely choice.” I do prefer Ophelia, but not bad for a made-up thing. … I meant the name, not her! I would never prefer her over, … over a reward and reputation.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

The Rusty Sword Inn was not only fitting to Keith’s armour; it also accommodated the quantity of people who had come to hear his stories. They formed a rather large crowd filling the inn, and Ophelia felt a little anxious; the memories of the last time she had been surrounded by so many haunted her. Yet, she found a small spot for herself in the chaos and sat on an old wooden bench, in between two villagers, and just in line of sight where Keith could still have an eye on her.

Meanwhile, the knight stood where normally a bard would stand, in perfect lighting, and all eyes were on him. His armour surely would have shimmered a bit while directly being illuminated by the candles if it hadn't been covered with rust by her. Funny, I have taken some glorious perfection off him.

Keith held his head like a hero on a history book page before he started with the first story of his. But maybe he does not just look like a hero; maybe he actually is one too. Taking a look around, Ophelia swiftly noticed that nearly everyone had heard of Keith, the known heroic knight, the one who had poems celebrating him written in every part of the county. I wonder what his heroic deeds were...

“Tell us about your last adventure!” Someone in the crowd yelled, and cheering followed. They were hungry for Keith’s stories.

“My last adventure was the simple assassination of a wanted burglar. Are you sure you don’t want to hear another story first?” Keith’s voice was loud and clear, to be heard up to the last rows of the inn.

“No, tell us that one first!”

“Alright, I will.” He gave in and took a moment to breathe through and create tension before he would start. The whole room took in this tension, and silence fell over every single person and thing. He silenced the whole room as if it was nothing; everything moved and adjusted to him.

“It began with me receiving a letter from a dear friend of mine. He is also a knight; you might have heard of him, Sir Howard the Poet. But for a change, it was not one of his lyrical letters I had received, but an ask for help. His sword had grown heavy, and he himself was old, but there was a burglar running free in his region, so he felt the need to intervene and ask for my help. … And I agreed, of course!”

Keith personally knows Sir Howard the Poet? I’ve heard stories about the poet ever since I was a little girl. Such a great knight and hero, and good with the quill too. I wonder if he could tell me more about his friendship with Howard…

“After three days of travel, I reached the village he lives in. I hadn’t seen him in years, and he definitely got greyer, but not less wise. A great man, really. And as a fellow knight, he of course advised me on where to find the burglar — at least in some vague direction. You see, he is still very clever and came to conclusions about the whereabouts of said wanted man. All I had to do was listen to him and do exactly what he said to get close to the criminal; it was true teamwork.”

He shares his victory with the old knight? That’s a nice gesture, I have to admit. Ophelia’s and Keith’s eyes met for a swift second before he went on. A slight smile washed over her lips, but her mind made it vanish the second she realised that it had happened.

“And after a day of searching, I eventually found him in the middle of the woods, in some improvised small camp. He was quite surprised when I kicked him awake in the evening. Can’t kill a sleeping man, can I?” He laughed, and the crowd tuned in too.

The whole inn was filled with laughter, but the only one not laughing was Ophelia. She did not like the idea of having to hear how he had killed the burglar, especially since it most likely would be in great detail because people always wanted the bloody details of a story like this.

“I can assure you that those few kicks weren’t the only painful thing he received that day. I mean, I still had to bring him back to the village somehow, for verification and to let justice rule out, and how else was I supposed to do that than by tying a rope around his neck and to my horse? And it surely wasn’t my fault when he sometimes couldn’t keep up. I don’t think he liked eating dust or what was about to follow.”

There was laughter in the crowd again. All of them are so entertained by the pain of someone, it makes me sick to my stomach. Ophelia took a deep breath before looking back at Keith. And while she looked at him again, she noticed how dearly he enjoyed this, getting to tell everyone how brutal he could be. He is a knight; what did I expect?

“Let me skip the boring part where they were grateful that I found him and decided that he should die by my hand. It was an honour to finish the job, of course. And the crowd it attracted was even bigger than you all! But anyway, I had polished up my sword while they were still discussing, to have it ready and shiny to bring death to the burglar. There was no one else to do it anyway, but they also really wanted me to do it, so it nevertheless was an honour. I can still hear his poor begging and the tears he cried when they forced him onto his knees. He had been a coward who had become a burglar, but he died a coward again. He also spoke more prayers in those last moments than a whole mess does. And to be fair, I let him get to amen before I lifted my sword like this ... and freed the head from the body in one cut, ending all prayers.” Keith had drawn and lifted his sword for demonstration, and the blade shone in the tavern’s lights.

Was this also the blade that would kill Ophelia? The sight of the weapon in Keith’s hand — the deadly weapon he mastered and had killed with before — was haunting. Meanwhile, the crowd cheered at Keith, and a few pieces of Ophelia shattered as the crowd was chanting, “More.”

“You want more? I’ll give you more!”

The crowd cheered even louder.

“I think I have just the right story to tell you now.” Keith declared loudly, and his eyes wandered to Ophelia again. It was as if he wanted to make sure she was paying attention to his words. “Let me tell you about the time I killed a witch.”

The words echoed in Ophelia’s mind as she sat there in shock while the room around her filled up with cheers and excitement again.

“She was begging even harder for her life than the burglar was.” Keith said loudly, not starting his story chronologically. “It didn’t help her at all, though.” A smile spread on his lips, and he was still holding eye contact with Ophelia, making her understand that she would get the same ending.

He will kill me. Maybe not tonight, but he will do it. This is how it will end. She was holding her breath without realising it, frozen in place.

“I found her not far from her village; she did not even think about hiding in the woods; I literally found her on a meadow. And she was plucking some weeds, most likely for a dangerous potion to kill someone. But don’t worry; I stopped her before she could brew anything. Honestly, I stopped her before she could do anything. I grabbed her by her hair before she knew what was going on, slammed her to the ground, and made sure that the devil would not get her back as a whole. I couldn’t have counted; even if I had wanted to, I slammed my sword down into her way too often. It was a bloody mess, but at least she couldn’t cause problems anymore.”

The people cheered again as Ophelia’s blood froze now too. Keith was still staring her down, and the smile on his lips seemed even more threatening to her.

I need to go. I… I could maybe sneak away when he’s busy with another story and not looking at me. I need to. I have to try anything. I have to get away from him. Here are so many people, he won’t notice immediately, it will buy me enough time. I can take his horse. It will slow him down and make my journey faster. I just need to find the right moment.

“Would you like to hear another one?” Keith went on as if nothing happened, because to him it had been a simple threat.

Several people shouted, “Yes!” And a few also screamed, “More!”

“Good, because I have plenty for you. But let me have something to eat first.”

He made his way to Ophelia then, while the people were still clapping around them. Of course, they had saved him a seat opposite hers, and not only so that he was able to have his eyes on her all the time. His armour clattered a bit as he sat down and turned his attention towards Ophelia.

“How did you like my stories?”

“They were ... brutal.”

“I know, they all are.”

“Thought so.”

“I’m a knight; what else would you expect?” He tilted his head slightly.

“I do not expect anything from you,” Ophelia made clear.

“Maybe you should expect death.” He kept his voice very low for that sentence since they were surrounded by strangers who believed them to be married.

She nodded lightly, not having the words for a response. He had just made his intentions even more clear to her. At least he is not pretending and lying.

A plate of food was placed in front of Keith just when there was silence between him and her. It was the perfect change of topics, and Keith could concentrate on that now. He picked up the first thing from the plate and started chewing while Ophelia looked everywhere but at him again.

They sat in silence until the woman next to Keith turned to him and said, “So, tell me another story. How about how you two met?”

Keith swallowed down what he had chewed on before and cleared his throat before answering, “I saved her from a dragon.”

“What did you just call my mother?” Ophelia raised an eyebrow and gave him a questioning look. The description fit that woman, but it also needed to be clarified to the stranger to not make her think Keith had fought an actual dragon. She surely would not feed into his heroic reputation by supporting lies.

Her answer was met with laughter, but not from Keith; his expression changed while the woman next to him found it amusing.

“Would you describe her differently?”

“No.”

“See.” His voice was not as bold as usual anymore, as if he were busy thinking about something at the same time as he spoke.

“Oh, I have a monster in-law too; I can’t recommend either.” The woman’s voice cut through Keith and Ophelia, who were simply looking at each other in a slight moment of silence.

“Yes, it’s no fun.” Ophelia agreed after managing to get a word out again and taking her eyes off Keith.

“Good thing we met at that one marketplace then.” And with a smile forming on his lips, Keith was back in his role again too.

Ophelia nodded shortly before lowering her eyes to focus on her plate. Can this conversation be over then?

“That’s lovely too.” The woman commented again. “You know, I met my husband in church.”

Polite smiles and pretending to be interested were the way to go from there on, while they had to listen to her stories about her family. The more of that normal life Ophelia had to hear, the more she grew a bit jealous, especially of the way she lovingly talked about her small children. Her mother had never talked about her like that; she had been the most spiteful woman ever since.

“A lot happens when you’ve been married for that long.” A laugh ended the woman’s telling. “How long have you been married already?”

“About a year, I think.”

A sigh escaped the woman’s lips: “Of course men never know things like these for sure.”

“Well, the sense of time suffers when you constantly have to save the country from threats.” Keith tried to save himself with a lame excuse.

“And they always talk their way out of it, am I right?” She turned to Ophelia.

Said one swiftly verified with a nod, “Yes.”

“Please don’t turn my wife against me even more.” Keith jokingly commented before grabbing the glass in front of him.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.” The woman laughed.

“Good, because she is very dear to me.” The way Keith said it had an undertone that spoke for itself if one knew about the rewards he would get once he handed her over or killed her immediately.

“Oh, to be this young and in love again,” she sighed melancholy.

Oh, please, I’m just a means to get him the reward he is after.

“I bet you now live comfortably. You’re really lucky not to have married some miller like I have.” The woman turned to Ophelia again.

Sure, it’s comfortable having one foot in the grave, she sarcastically thought before putting on a fake smile. “It really is.”

“And surely your home must be big enough to easily fit all the beautiful children you’ll have someday.”

Keith choked on his drink after hearing that sentence, but he covered it up with a cough and pretended like nothing happened afterwards.

“Of course it is.” Spotting the opportunity to make Keith uncomfortable, Ophelia kept a smile on her lips. “And we can’t wait to start that big family.”

“Right.” Keith dryly agreed.

“That did not sound too enthusiastic.”

Keith, luckily, had always been good at making up excuses quickly. “It must be the long day of travelling.”

“It must be.” Supporting him, Ophelia nodded shortly.

“Is that also the reason why you’re not wearing your ring?” Ophelia was then asked after a pause.

“Uh, yes. And also because it is too precious to risk losing it in the woods or somewhere else on this long journey.”

“Of course, I’ve lost mine quite a few times around the house too. It happens faster than one would think.”

Ophelia nodded politely.

”Oh, and just wait until you’re with child, when your fingers are so swollen, it won’t fit anymore. It’s really frustrating.”

No, thank you. That was literally the last thing she wanted to think about at the moment. She was not even sure if she would survive the next few days.

“But anyway, I surely don’t want to scare you already,” the woman laughed again.

“I’d be grateful if you didn’t.” Keith noted, integrating himself into the conversation again.

If Ophelia could have read his mind, it surely would have been something along the lines of that is already my job. At least Keith gave her a swift look that indicated such before playing nice in front of the woman again. He could play the role of the heroic gentleman if he wanted to. But he also seemingly liked to make his stance clear to Ophelia at every chance given. Maybe he is just making sure that I don’t think I’m safe with him. Or maybe he truly hates me.

After the woman had left eventually, there was a long silence between the two again. Keith was mostly focusing on the food and wine in order to not have to deal with Ophelia, and said one was doing the same thing for the same reason. And she also did not see any need to have to talk to him at all. She knew he would kill her when given the chance or the right timing. It would be best for her to start planning how to get out of this. And the break from having to entertain everyone around them was seemingly good to have too, and not just for starting to plan her escape. Keith was able to relax a bit without anyone trying to get stories out of him, and he seemed more content too.

That moment of peace did not last too long, however. After enough time for Keith to eat had passed, he was asked to get back to the front again in order to tell them more of his heroic stories. Despite not really wanting to do it, Keith hid those feelings really well as he made his way through the crowd again. Cheering filled the room again too. To be this loved and adored must feel good.

And when the crowd got silent again, patiently waiting for him to start, Keith told them the story about how he went on a special mission by the king to eliminate several enemies and to also steal some treasures from them. He had started at the beginning again, with him getting called to the king and how he was welcomed at court. The way he told it made it really visual and imaginable for everyone. He knew how to tell a good story, for sure. He described the court in great detail, the halls, the colourful tapestries, the food, and the women. Ophelia could picture it without ever having been near a castle at all. It sounded exciting already. But maybe it should not sound exciting to her at all, since it was the words of a brutal knight who had killed people like her before. Meanwhile, Keith went on to describe how his journey to the first lord was — the hills he overcame and the lakes he had seen. Everyone followed his words in silence, wanting to hear more about how he would kill the person this time. Of course, Keith told them in detail and with pleasure how he killed the first on his list. And then he went on to tell the next part of the story — how he went to search for his next target.

I could maybe leave now. After watching Keith closely the whole time, Ophelia was now sure that he was more relaxed about letting her out of his sight. And currently, he was not looking in her direction at all. She could just get up and sneak out now.

Quietly and slowly, she stood from the bench, careful not to make anyone pay attention to her. No one currently did since they were all in awe of Keith, but she still had to be careful about them. She crouched while she quietly made her way towards the entrance to make sure the people covered her from Keith’s sight.

He won’t be able to notice, and even if he did, he would still have to pretend like I was his wife to not cause any panic. And if he doesn’t notice, he will only notice later, and by then I am far away already. He won’t be able to catch up. I will be free of him and won’t have to see him ever again. And once I’m out of reach, I will be able to solely focus on myself again.

When she reached the door, she turned around one last time, also to make sure he was busy telling his heroic stories and had not noticed her sneaking away. And there he was, in good light, looking like the shining knight he was supposed to be, admired by the whole room but not by her. If his words were not full of brutality and danger to her, maybe she would have walked back and stayed after this sight.

But she could not. Ophelia knew she had to go now. It was time to go; it was time to leave that knight behind. Sometimes, to run was the brave thing, and she knew in her soul that it was time to go.

Farewell, Keith Campbell.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

“And then I slammed the last head onto the King’s dinner table.” Keith ended his story with a smile, and the applause began again.

The people really loved hearing about his adventures, and it had been quite a while since he was celebrated by a crowd. Flattering his ego was an understatement; it made him feel like a beloved king himself. Or maybe winning another great battle could be a good comparison to this feeling too. Finally, he got to be the celebrated hero again, with poems written about him. This excellent reputation was rarely felt to this extreme; he loved every single clap of the still ongoing applause.

I wonder how it will feel when I slay the witch and earn my rewards for it. Bet they’ll love me even more, and not just here but everywhere. The whole country will be at my feet. An already satisfied smile stole itself onto his lips as he let his gaze wander around the room.

I bet she now understands that she won’t have even the slightest chance against me.

... Wait, where is she? Wasn’t she sitting right there where I had left her?! But maybe I’m just wrong and am looking at the wrong table... Nope. Bloody hell!

He swiftly crossed the room again, while the crowd still demanded more, in order to check if he really was wrong or if she was actually gone. But as he reached the table they had sat on, he had to realise that the witch actually left while he had been busy entertaining the crowd.

Don’t panic, don’t panic. Play it down; they all think she’s your harmless wife, you can’t have them panic and call you a liar. His heartbeat and breathing sped up a bit, but he tried his best to cover it up and pretend like nothing unusual had happened.

“Have you seen my wife?” He asked the man, who had sat next to him all the time, as casually as he could.

“Sure, she’s gone to look for the privy chamber, I think.”

Either that, or she got away. Knowing the witch, the second option was most likely the case. Keith let out a sigh before thanking the man for the information and making his way towards the entrance of the inn. He had to start the search for her immediately. He would not let her get away, not if there was too much at risk for him. And he also could not let a dangerous witch run free in general either. His reputation would suffer massively if this came out, so preventing this from happening was his second goal after catching her.

I have to find her, and once I do, she will not leave my side at any time! I do not care what it will take, I will not let her ruin anything. I was so close to my goals that I will not let this inconvenience stop me. She will not cross me. I will find her and drag her back by her hair if I have to.

When he reached the big entrance door, he took another look back, just to make sure she was not still inside the inn. It did not look like she was; she truly must have sneaked out, and so will he in order to find her.

If I were her, how would I — stable. She wouldn’t get far on her feet.

Following his intuition, he walked over to the small stable next to the inn and made sure not to make too much noise. After sneaking out like that, she deserved to be scared by him on top of getting dragged back. She will pay for even trying this. But it was also clever of her, I have to admit.

The closer he got to the stable, which gave light to the dark surroundings through the windows it had, the louder the neighs became. He swore to have recognised his destrier’s resisting neighs. Normally, the horse only lets out such noises when it is tired or some stranger is trying to take it over. Clever girl, but I’ve got a smarter horse, he thought with a smile while getting even closer to the open stable doors.

Despite her seemingly smart plan, Keith found the witch visibly struggling to even put the halter on his destrier. Amused, he watched the scene in which his horse turned away his head just when Ophelia got close again before deciding to intervene.

“Come on, please.” Ophelia did not want to give up anytime soon, as it seemed.

She was so busy trying again that she did not notice Keith being there and sneaking up on her. Thankfully, the neighs of the horses surrounding them covered up the armour’s noises. Keith was able to get really close to her without her having any clue at all.

While Ophelia was still distracted, Keith swiftly grabbed her from behind before she could notice him. She sucked in air as a reaction to the shock, but she did not dare to move in the slightest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked while holding her quite securely by having his forearm pressed against her neck. His metal vambrace dug into her flesh, and he could tell that this was uncomfortable and painful to her; nevertheless, he did not loosen his grip. And by having her this close, her soft hair met his face, and he could clearly smell the lake water that had mixed up with her very own scent.

“N-Nowhere, I was just checking on your horse.” Her breathing was shallow, as she was still processing the shock and disappointment that she had gotten caught.

“Did you really think this was a good idea?”

“Until you showed up, yes.”

“Too bad for you then,” a smile stole across his lips.

“No, since, as I said, I was just making sure your horse was taken good care of.” Ophelia tried to keep her lie alive, pretending or maybe even thinking she could talk her way out of it.

“I’m sure it was. Even before you came and tried to saddle it up in order to get away.”

“That’s not what I was doing!”

He let go of her within a second, but only to turn her so she could face him, and his fingers clasped her chin. “You’re a shit liar.”

“I’m not!” Ophelia protested.

“Yes, you are! And now, stop it!”

There was a glint in her eye, indicating that she was not pleased with it, but she did not say another word of reluctance.

I knew she had not just rain inside her but also a fire.

“And now, my dear wife,” he spat the last word out as if it were full of hatred, “we’ll head right back in, and I might be willing to forget that this happened if you start behaving.”

“I have shown you nothing but my best behaviour!” She unexpectedly hissed back, seemingly not feeling content about that part of his talk.

Did she just talk back at me?! A light confusion might have been visible for only a second on his face before he covered it up swiftly. He raised an eyebrow sceptically. “Trying to run away is what you call your best behaviour?”

“I wasn’t trying—“

“Yes, you were. Shut it!”

“That’s how you talk to your wife?” She turned the tables while giving him a questioning look.

“I don’t have a wife.”

“Yeah, I can see why.” Ophelia said it as dryly as possible, aiming to hurt him.

That bloody witch! No, no. Don’t let her provoke you. She simply can’t cope with being caught, ...but I do like her audacity. What? No, I don’t!

“And I can see why they wanted to burn you at the stake,” he replied, lowering his voice just in case anyone was eavesdropping.

She did not say another word, but simply stared at him with the light surprise of him actually saying that written on her face.

Check mate.

He enjoyed his victory for a moment, with a winning smile forming on his lips. “Maybe we should go back now.”

Ophelia did not say a single word or nodded; she just kept staring at him with her mouth closed. She might have chosen some sort of silent protest, but he did not care. If it were up to him, she could remain silent for the rest of her very short life until he killed her.

Keith let go of her chin and grabbed her hand instead. “Come on, I bet you’ll love the stories I’ll tell them next if they want more.”

He then started to move, but she stood in place, holding him back. A sigh came over his lips as he took back the step he had taken. “Do I have to carry you or will you start walking?”

“Don’t bother; I’m not coming.” She declared, breaking her silence.

“What?” I did not leave her that option at all!

“May I remind you of how we are not even yet with saving each other’s lives? You still owe me, and I want the favour of you letting me go.”

... damn it, technically, she is right. Why did she have to be this smart and remembering? But there’s no way I’ll let her go, not with the reward she will bring me. I need to find a way to trick her. I need to make her stay.

“I cannot do that.” He eventually said after thinking about all of his options. “Because it’s literally night and dangerous out there, especially when you’re on your own and a woman.”

“I’m not as weak and helpless as you think I am!”

“You didn’t even notice me sneaking up on you! And I wasn’t even trying hard! You’ll be dead within an hour with those instincts!”

He had a good point there, and he satisfyingly noticed that she had to admit it too. She pondered for a moment about what to do, avoiding eye contact with him at any cost.

“Then I’ll simply leave in the morning.” Ophelia eventually declared.

I won’t let you, but you can try. He put on the smile of a liar. “Fine with me.”

“Good.”

The people in the inn had barely noticed them being gone for quite a while since the wine had flowed, and the atmosphere was almost as ecstatic as when Keith had told them their favourite heroic stories of his.

“Ah, you’re finally back!” Keith was greeted when the first person finally noticed them in the crowd. “Please tell us more stories; we’re hungry for them!”

“Sure, I will.”

“Everyone, our brave knight is back and will tell us even more stories!” Those words set off intense cheering again.

“You won’t sneak off again, will you? Otherwise I’ll have to bring you to the front,” Keith whispered his threat to Ophelia and hoped the others around them were not paying attention.

“I’ll leave in the morning.” Her smile was supposed to be an insurance.

Sure, believe in what you want, but you won’t. He would never let her go, but she did not know this and also would not find out until tomorrow morning, when she would try to leave while still thinking his promise was true. Keith would simply play along until the reveal was due, and hopefully the witch would keep believing his lies and false promises until the sun would shine again.

“Good.”

Keith then left her behind as he walked through the cheering crowd to the front once again. They were still hungry for more; it seemed like they could listen to his heroic deeds forevermore. He did not always have such great people around him; this truly was special; he rarely had felt this celebrated in one night alone. It seemed like a lot he had wished for — being loved and celebrated as a heroic knight — he could barely think of something better than this. He might even wish for this night to never end, for more wine to flow and more stories being his to tell to the awaiting people. And with the assurance that the witch would not sneak off again — at least until the morning — he could now truly enjoy being celebrated and tell even more stories without them having to be direct threats towards her.

But even with this new sort of freedom, his eyes still wandered around the room after he got into storytelling position again and searched for no one but the witch.

Just to make sure she really is still there and not tricking me. Keith lied to himself after noticing what he was doing. He had spotted her in her old position at the table they were both sat at, and she was taking a sip from the wooden tankard in front of her. For a split second, he caught himself wondering about whether her lips were as soft as they looked resting on the rim, but when he noticed what he was doing again, he shook that thought off with the soft clatter of his armour.

“So I heard you’re lusting after another story of mine,” he loudly exclaimed to the already turned-toward crowd.

Of course they wanted to hear more; they wanted to hear them all — every single adventure Keith ever anticipated. After waiting for the cheering to calm down again, Keith looked around the whole room again, creating some excitement before starting with the story. He usually did it this way; it sometimes helped with bringing some boring story across as sounding rather neutral.

But if he were entirely honest again, he would have to admit that they would celebrate the most boring piece of tale read in the most boring way just because it was him who told it. He mattered, which was flattering. But he also still wanted to give them a performance. Surely I will not become one with the reputation to be boring in conversation.

“Is there any adventure you know of but want me to tell the whole story?”

Several hecklings were thrown across the room, and it was quite hard for Keith to understand a single sentence completely.

“Please, my friends, a bit more in order!”

When the evening came to an end and the inn closed for all the local drinkers, Keith found himself back opposite of Ophelia again. Only the two and a few overnight guests were left, including the master of the house, of course. They all still sat together for a little while, but some of them were also already saying goodnight and going to their rooms.

“We should probably go and get some rest too,” Ophelia eventually suggested after it was only them and three other people left.

Keith, having nothing against it, agreed and got up slowly from the wooden bench. The others wished them a goodnight, which they returned with their put-on smiles before finally getting away from the strangers and fans of Keith in the inn.

“We survived the big part!” Ophelia exclaimed happily when they were out of sight and walking up the stairs towards their room for the night.

“Yes, we did, but we still have to keep it up until we leave tomorrow.”

“I know, but can’t you just enjoy this little victory? If it were part of your heroic adventure stories, I bet you would have them celebrate it heavily.”

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. “You do realise that I had to dramatise everything in order to make them happy, do you?”

“Is that supposed to be a weak excuse?” Ophelia raised an eyebrow at him.

Keith stopped in his steps and gave her a stern look.

“Are you ever a little more relaxed? You always seem to be so tense about everything.”

“How could I not be alerted when it is my life on the line with this act? If it were just yours, I promise you that I surely would be completely calm.”

“And you always make everything a threat,” she sighed, but did give up the topic for the rest of the conversation up the stairs.

No, I don’t, Keith thought, but knew deep down that the witch was right. But on the other hand, he actually was just making sure that she would not forget about her fate and what he was supposed to do to her.

“Here we are.” Ophelia had stopped in front of their room-door before fumbling around with the key they had received.

Let’s see how this will go.

Keith let her go in first, and not just out of his manners. Technically, if it were not for her having the key, he could have just locked her in until the morning. He should have thought about that earlier, when he still had the chance to receive the key before her. But since he had missed out on that opportunity, he would have to think about a different approach to keep her with him without her escaping in the morning like she intended.

“Oh, this is really lovely!” He heard Ophelia exclaim from the other end of the room.

It surely can’t be that special, looks rather run down from here. He took a few more steps to have a view of what she admired, but for him it still looked old and used. The wooden bed had scratches from daily use, and the chest of drawers was stained, and old candle wax stains were to be seen on a few spots. Nothing could have been declared as lovely, not even a few years ago, as everything seemed to be at least four or five decades old.

“This is what you call lovely?”

“Yes, I mean, just look how nice this looks, oh, and the bed is really soft,” Ophelia assured him after letting herself fall onto it.

“You’re not really used to comfort, are you?”

“Are you?” Instead of an answer, she threw the question right back at him.

Keith interpreted it as a no. “Of course. I’m a knight, remember?”

“Right.”

There was a moment of just silence between them, and Keith tried to not look at her too much, so his eyes wandered around the room instead. There was rather much space, thankfully, and he also spotted a wooden tub in one of the corners of the room.

“Are you thinking about drowning me in that one?” Ophelia seemingly had followed his gaze to it. And despite her voice sounding rather jokingly, there surely was a serious core to it too.

How come she’s sometimes one step ahead of me? “No, but you could lose your awful lake smell in it.”

“You smell too!”

“I never said I didn’t.”

“Could you give me some space then? Maybe check on your horse for a while.” Ophelia carefully asked, avoiding any mention of the reason.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t have wanted to see you naked anyway.” Keith boldly replied.

“You wouldn’t?” Confusion was written on her face.

“Of course not!” He uttered hastily. I never would want to ... see her without ... no, absolutely not; I’m good. What was that? Why did I even think about that? Shouldn’t it be an instant decline? Why would I even think about her body at all? She is still just the witch I have to trick and hand over and kill. What am I even doing? And I should be leaving. No, wait, the armour.

“Uh, good.”

“Yes. But let me at least take off my armour first before you kick me out of the room.” 

“Oh, of course!” Ophelia swiftly nodded.

Keith did not say another word but started with taking off his vambraces, which seemed rather covered with rust by now thanks to her powers. This made it a little difficult to get them off, but he carefully and slowly managed to.

“Do you need some help?” Her voice sounded rather timid.

“Have you ever even touched any of this?”

“No, but it can’t be more complicated than a belt, can it?”

He stopped in his movements to look her in the eyes. “How come you’re so naive all the time?”

She seemed confused and a bit attacked by his question. “Not everyone has the privilege and experience of the world like you have.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Unbothered, he went on to get rid of the next piece of armour.

“I was just being nice, you know.” Ophelia’s voice was low and weak.

Another stop in his movements. Was I unnecessarily mean? ... I think she’s right. With a light sigh, he stretched out his other arm towards her so that she could easily remove his vambrace. “If you still want to do it.”

“How else am I supposed to learn?” She lightly teased him as she carefully laid her hands on the vambrace.

And just when her fingers touched the metal, Keith could have sworn to feel something — not warmth but the strange feeling he sometimes got when being too close to her. It was more like the supernatural shock he had received in the lake when he had tried to drown her, but much lighter and just superficial.

Ophelia felt it too; a light gasp came over her lips. She seemingly still did not know her own powers at all.

“It’s alright, you’re not hurting me.” He put on a mild smile too in order to assure her.

“Maybe that was the plan, but it failed?” Hiding away under light jokes seemed to be some sort of coping for her.

“If that was an actual approach for killing someone, you’re as good as dead when you step out of that door alone.” Keith’s laugh was honest, but so was his realisation.

“No, of course it was not.”

I could teach her how to defend herself — No! Absolutely not; why would I even consider doing that?

Meanwhile, Ophelia’s fingers found the clasps she had to open to get him out of his vambraces. And where she touched the metal, a light shimmer was seen, and the rust seemed to avoid her by moving around her fingers to never touch her at all. They both watched it carefully, but none of them made a comment regarding it. Keith was really curious about it but also knew that she did not have any answers for it. And Ophelia was busy figuring the clasps out while he patiently watched her.

The sound of the clasps opening and Keith being free of his vambraces came a bit swift and surprising to Ophelia since she had not reckoned with them coming off so smoothly and being heavier than they looked to her.

“Well done.” Keith took the vambrace out of her hands with a smile and tried to be supportive of her progress in learning how to do it. But he also knew that it would take forever to get him out if he would let her try everything, so he took over the most of it.

“Thank you. But I should probably figure this rust touch thing out.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“Maybe I should apologise for all this rust.” She commented as he went on to take off more armour.

“Would be for the better, but it would be best if you could just make it disappear again.”

“I’ll work on it, I promise.”

You won’t have that many days left to figure it out, but sure. And I bet the price for you will cover an entirely new armour, even shinier and better than this one.

“Good. See you later then,” Keith awkwardly pressed out after having everything taken off and before closing the door behind him.

He took a deep breath in order to clear his mind from all those thoughts and stepped towards the stairs again. Checking on his horse was an overall good idea. And he would most likely be able to find a horse trough and a bucket for taking care of his own smell down at the stable, which was important since he surely would not step into that wooden tub after the witch left her lake smell and whatever in there. She surely also would not be comfortable with that idea either, which he strangely did care about too. The way she had asked him to leave had told him enough about her boundaries and that she was rather insecure about strangers and situations like these. She also did not seem like she knew a lot of men personally. And the way she had touched his vambrace had also told him that she never before must have held something like it in her hands. Additionally, the supernatural powers going on were a riddle itself. Despite all the new questions that he wanted answers to too, he had also learnt quite a lot about her, the witch, Ophelia.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

The warm, clean water touched Ophelia’s skin in the moment she carefully stepped into the wooden tub, and she let out a light sigh of relief. Not having to feel pressure like the one she had encountered in the lake was good to notice for her. This water would not be a challenge for her but simply a means to get her clean. And not only would she get clean, but she could also finally rest.

In this inn, she was relatively safe and would not have to worry about someone coming for her since everyone believed the lie. Not only did they believe the lie Keith and her had presented them, they also adored the knight. She never had felt this loved by a group of people; she had never been celebrated like this in the slightest, but it was not jealousy coming over her but more fear. Ophelia was scared about whether they could turn on their beloved knight in case they would find out the truth somehow. Maybe another one who was looking for her would arrive here too and cause problems.

No, I am safe; we are safe; don’t even think about what could happen. This is good; I can finally get some real rest; just calm down.

Carefully, she stroked over her arm and washed off some of the dirt and hopefully the smell too. She trusted the warm water more and more and actually got to rest a bit while carelessly bathing. The knots in her hair were also tameable and gone by the time it was completely wet too.

I wonder in which direction I should leave tomorrow. Maybe I can join Keith a bit more if he is heading somewhere practical ... no, I should get rid of him as fast as I can. He is still a celebrated and successful knight. Who knows if he turns against me eventually, despite our agreement? But maybe I should figure out how to de-rust him first before leaving him. I mean, it still is my fault that he is that rusted, and despite this being his fault too, I could still do this one nice thing for him. But how? How am I supposed to do that? I don’t even know how it happened in the first place.

Guess he is right; I really am too naive and know too little of this world to be able to survive on my own. No, he is not right! He is just trying to make me believe I am weak and therefore easily convinced to stay and walk into my own death. Maybe he has not given up on his goals and orders yet and only pretends to be willing to let me go. I need to be ready for this to be the case. It cannot be a surprise for me; I need to be able to react. Maybe I really was a bit too naive to believe he would actually keep his word of letting me go.

After stepping out of the tub, Ophelia swiftly dried herself with the towel that had been prepared for her to use. She also found a new linen chemise and gown for her, but the gown would not be needed yet since she would only go to bed and not out. Overall, it was good to change her clothes, not just due to hers being smelly and worn but also because they could be recognised by people who actually knew her.

Maybe I should change my hair a bit too... She thought while thinking about getting recognised further. Maybe some of the women here know how to change the colour fast and well enough for it to pass… Or I could cut it all off and pretend to be a boy for a while until I am safe.

So much to decide, and yet not enough time for it all to be carefully considered. The time span she had was only until the next morning, when she had to get away from the knight before he would become dangerous again. I perhaps could convince a traveler to take me along since my absolutely real husband and I decided to part our ways for now and reunite after his quest.

Her finger wandered across his armour after she had reached the chest of drawers again. The rust still played and danced around her in the way it earlier did. Whatever was up with it, she wanted to figure it out. What made this rust so supernatural like her powers? Was the lake water special, or was it because of her powers? Or is it both?

Why did I not have such a heavy reaction with water before? Probably because of me only now setting it free. But then the bathtub water is off. It did not show anything at all. Ophelia questioned the lake more and more. It must be significant and special to her, but she could not wrap her head around it yet. I should probably figure out where exactly I am and if there are some tales tied to this lake. And I should also ask about some main routes to somewhere far away, maybe even another country. Despite not speaking any other language than her own, she still considered heading off to somewhere that foreign since her safety seemed more important and a language barrier was the least of her problems.

I wonder if Keith has ever been to other countries. I bet he was. Maybe he even speaks other languages and could teach me some words. No, I should not let him know about that plan; that would be a bad idea.

A knock on the door teared her out of her thoughts. She swiftly but carefully tiptoed towards it to find her knight waiting for her to let him in again.

“Is the horse alright?” She asked with a smile.

“It is.” Keith’s reply was dry, and he tried to step around her in order to get inside, but she took the step to the side too. He gave her a puzzled look. “What? Am I not allowed inside my own room?”

“If you would consider chastity and my reputation, then no.”

“What are you even talking about? We’re married, remember?” And with those words, he simply walked past her, knowing he was right — at least in the eyes of everyone they had told the lie to.

Ophelia shut the door behind him, but she was not really done yet — despite knowing how right he was. “But you will still sleep on the floor, right?”

“No, I won’t.”

She seemed too stunned to speak for a short moment.

“But in case you’re as worried as you look, I promise to not touch you in any way. Why would I want to do that anyway? You’re a witch; who knows what you would do to me?” A laugh ended his promise just like it ended her worries. “And after what you’ve done to my armour, I should be the one not wanting you to touch me ever again.”

“I will try to make the rust disappear.”

“That would be nice.”

He sat down on the bed with a tired sigh. It had been a long day for both of them.

Ophelia watched him carelessly take off his boots, and he simply let them fall wherever they landed once being off his feet. Her mother had warned her about untidy men for as long as she could think back to. How often did Ophelia have to hear about those no-goods and other people her mother did not want her to get close to? Surely often enough to have the voice ring in her head again.“Be careful or you’ll end up with a no-good who knocked you up without ever wanting to marry you, and then you’ll end up like me — with a brat of a daughter who takes everything for granted and who seemingly wants to become a whore too!” No, I will not become like my mother.

“What, never seen a foot before?” Catching her watching him, Keith asked her with a teasing smile on his lips.

“I have. But you’re rather messy.”

“Oh, I beg your dearest pardon, my lady. It will never happen again.” Sarcasm filled up his voice entirely. And then he kicked one of his boots a bit more into the room.

Ophelia was confused but let out a light laugh despite it.

“You really don’t have to be so uptight.”

“And you really don’t need to prove me different every single time I say something.”

“Please, you’re a witch. Up-keeping your chastity is the least problem you have, no one will care about your reputation regarding that anyway.”

“I was not solely referring to that!” She protested. “And I am the one who still cares about that, so yes, different than you think, it is still important.”

“Okay, if you think so.”

“You’re literally the one talking about nothing but your reputation, but when I am the one being worried about mine, you tell me to calm down?”

“I never told you to calm down! I just reminded you that no one will judge since they think we’re married! So, basically, I tried to help you.”

“Oh, how graceful of you.”

“I’m a knight, remember? I do heroic things like this.”

Somehow he managed to keep their conversation from heading towards a fight and made her smile instead. How does he do it every time?

“Truly heroic.” Irony filled Ophelia’s words entirely.

“I know.”

“Just stay on your side of the bed,” she then ordered as she walked over to hers.

“Like I said, I’d rather eat horse shit than risk getting cursed by your touch again. In fact, I should be the one warning you to stay away from me.”

“Good, because if you even dare to try anything, I will curse you so bad you won’t ever move in the slightest again.”

“Oh please, luv, you wouldn’t even know how to do that.” Keith let out a light laugh, knowing he was right.

What did he just call me? “Yes, I would!”

“Don’t think so.”

“That’s just you underestimating me again.” She tried to prove a point as she got into the bed eventually.

“And you’re overestimating your ability to control your powers.”

“No, I don’t.” Her voice was a bit softer again, growing tired of this debate.

“Yes, you absolutely do.”

“I will not give in, but I really think we should sleep now instead of discussing things I am clearly right about.”

“You’re not right about it.”

“Could you for once just agree?”

“Not if you’re in the wrong. But maybe getting some sleep could fix that, and your wrong ideas.”

Ophelia breathed through slowly, trying not to get fed up with him too much. But then she had an idea how to stop this discussion.

“May I ask you something different?”

“Sure.”

She took a deep breath. “May I ask how many you have killed?“

“Why would you want to know that?”

“I am curious about it, and you told quite a few stories this evening, which simply made me wonder.”

He went silent for a moment to really think about it and was probably calculating rough numbers too. “I am not entirely sure but must be over fifty.”

“You killed over fifty people?”

“Yes.”

“That is a lot!”

“I’m a knight; what did you expect?” His light laugh was heard again.

“It still is a lot to me. I don’t think I even know fifty people.”

“You don’t even know fifty people? God, you truly never left your village, did you?”

Was this not clear enough by now? “I already told you often enough that I didn’t. Not everyone is a knight that travels a lot.”

“And yet you kill people like one.”

“I did not kill anyone!” A horrified look grew on her face. How could he think she had that in her, especially after she had spared him?

“You almost killed me!”

“It was self-defence!”

A playful smile hushed over his lips. “Is that what you tell all your victims?”

“I do not have any victims.”

“That might be incorrect.”

“Why?” It made no sense to her.

“I bet quite a few got hurt when they failed to burn you.”

“And how would that be my fault?” It surely is not my fault!

“You could have tried to just let them burn you; it would have saved me quite some time and effort.”

Ophelia just stared at him, not knowing what to say. She was not sure if he was being serious or not. But if he were serious, she wished he really was not.

His amused smile weakened for a moment. “That was supposed to be a joke, but despite that, it’s still a bit true.” His last words sounded different than the first few; they were in a more jokingly tone, and he also said them more quietly.

“Maybe you should learn better jokes than making such unfunny ones.”

“Well, I guess our humour is not always met.”

“It doesn’t need to anyway. And I don’t think that we’ll see each other again after tomorrow, so it really does not matter.”

There was something strange in his voice when he agreed. “Of course.”

It made Ophelia wonder about it, but it also filled the room in a moment of silence again. Changing the topic a bit became the saving now.

“Do you really know a few kings like you told in your stories?”

“Yes.”

“So, you have been to castles and courts before?”

“That comes with it, yes.”

“What is it like? Is it really so richly decorated and beautiful?”

“Some are, but some also became poor over the generations.”

“I did not know that a king could grow poor.”

“I bet you don’t know about quite a lot of things.”

Ophelia sighed, but then still asked, “How far away have your adventures led you? Have you ever been to a foreign country before?”

“Since when are you interested in my adventures?”

“Oh, I was just curious, and like I said before, I’ve never been outside of the place I grew up in, so I can’t really imagine what other regions look like.”

“Are you planning to run away to a country foreign to you?” Seeing right through her facade, Keith directly asked her.

  “What? No! No, I don’t! I-I mean, I don’t even speak other languages, so it would be a really stupid thing for me to do, right?”

He simply raised an eyebrow at her, not buying the lies she had tried to sell him.

“So you think it’s a bad idea too?”

“Of course it would be.”

“But wouldn’t I be much safer somewhere where no one has heard of me at all?”

“Probably, but you barely know have any sense of direction in your own region, so going anywhere oversee does seem extremely stupid to me.”

“And what about Scotland?”

“Not particularly safe for an English woman like you.”

“I could pretend like I’m not.”

“You don’t speak their language.”

“Fine.”

I could still go there and pretend like I can’t speak at all. And maybe I find some fellow English people up there.

A long look lasted on her before Keith broke the silence by offering, “What else do you want to know?“

“Could you tell me about dragons?”

“They are not real.”

They are not? “Are you sure? Or do you simply think that because you never actually saw one?”

“I am sure. There is no such thing as a dragon. And unicorns also do not exist, in case that was your next question.”

“It was not, but that’s still disappointing too.”

“I know. If I were you, I‘d try to keep some of your good imagination instead of learning the cold truth about some things.”

“No, I‘d actually prefer to know about real life and what exists and what does not.”

A light smile that should not be there stole itself onto his face again. It seemed like he regretted letting it slip, but he still spoke out what must have been on his mind. “I like your enthusiasm about getting to know the world.”

Is that supposed to be a compliment? Why would he say that? “Oh, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She gave him a smile in an honest way. And then something new crossed her thoughts as she noticed a rather long scar on his forearm that she had not seen before. She moved a bit around to lay on her side, which also got her closer to him in the process.

“Did you ever get hurt in battle?”

“Of course I was.”

“How bad?”

“I took a few arrows, and some other sword caused wounds, but nothing deadly yet.”

“What caused this one?”

Carefully her finger met the scar on his underarm, whereas he did nothing to keep her from touching him. It really seemed like he did not have anything against it.

“Dagger,” he said while he watched her trail her finger across his forearm in the same line as the dagger once had cut him.

“Must have been quite a big dagger.” She noted and finally met his eyes again.

Keith had watched her stroke over his skin but looked up the second she did too. “No, it was rather small, but fast and used by someone skilled. Could have ended deadly if it weren’t for my sword and the fact that I was slightly faster than him.”

Her finger was still resting on his warm skin, and he still did not seem like he minded.

“I bet you don’t have any fancy battle scars.” He light-heartedly said, trying to get her to smile again.

She shook her head lightly and was rather close to him again too, and not just because she was letting more fingers rest on his arm after her middle and ring finger had followed her index finger onto the warmth. “Mostly just scratches.”

“Lucky you. Surely it would have been a bit of a shame to see some ugly reminder of the past on your body engraved to last forever.”

“Aren’t battle scars worn with pride?”

“Depends on the battles, luv.”

“But they are still memories of things you survived.”

“Maybe you are right.”

A smile grew on her lips again. “I bet you’ll also become a memory of a thing I survived without leaving any scars on my body.”

“Just a memory and nothing more?” Keith raised an eyebrow at her with a teasing tone in his voice and also tilted his head a bit, coming even closer to hers.

“Well, ….“ Ophelia only noticed mid-sentence how close they were and forgot what she had wanted to say for a moment, as his smell distracted her additionally.

The lake smell was gone after being washed off him too, and she was able to fully take him in, especially since they were now so close they were almost touching. Eyes met and wandered to lips and back, while they both were rather carefully breathing in and out. Some sort of tension also grew between them; Ophelia had no idea what it was, but there surely was something intense going on. She also noticed a new softness in his eyes she had not seen before in any man. It was new and strange to her, and yet it did not scare her off; the opposite was the case. She did not feel like moving in any way; she still felt his warm skin underneath her fingers too. A soft smile slowly grew on her lips too, without her being able to do anything about it.

No, wait, he is still a knight who was sent to kill me. I can’t. This is not supposed to happen, whatever this is! I cannot.

She eventually caught herself and pulled herself back with the words, “Yes, of course you will be nothing but that to me … because how could you be anything but the knight who almost got to kill me?”

The moment they had vanished with those words, and the distance grew again and not just between their bodies.

“And I’ll be gone by tomorrow noon anyway.”

“You should probably sleep now instead of thinking of further ridiculous plans.” He tried to end the conversation too, but with a different approach to it.

“They are not as ridiculous as you think, but you are right about the sleep part.” What even was that moments ago? It surely is better to forget about that too.

Finally getting to rest after all the stress of the past days felt as good as the lightly warm blanket Ophelia carefully tucked herself into. For now, she was safe and could sleep without fearing something bad happening to her. Or should she be aware of the potential threat Keith could still be despite his promises? He could still try to kill her in her sleep. He could have lied the whole time, and she would have no clue about it.

No, he won’t kill me now. It would be quite unhonorably. And all he cares about is his honour and reputation, so he wouldn’t dare to risk it. I am safe. Right?

“... Keith?”

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“You won’t just murder me in my sleep, right?”

“Why would I even want to do that? Who knows what your powers would do to me while you’re unconscious?”

“So you thought about it?” I have been naive to think he had not considered it at least.

“What do you want to hear? Yes, of course, I considered it.” Irony filled his voice again. “Except that I actually did not consider anything but getting some sleep.”

“Good to know.”

“Hope you can sleep now.” And with that, he shut up for good.

But he could still be lying. No, no, it is fine; I can just drift off into sleep. And since he is so afraid of my powers, maybe they really will save me in case he indeed tries anything. It was a bit hard for Ophelia to actually let herself get drawn into getting some actual rest, but in the end she could no longer fight against her eyes shutting themselves out of tiredness. A deep and rich sleep was already awaiting her.

The first appearance of light in the morning was swiftly followed by a rooster crowing at dawn, whose sounds pulled Ophelia out of her dreams. Too tired to wake up fully yet, she pulled the blanket a bit higher to cover her face from the light shining in. It was not a try to fall back asleep; she was fighting against it, but her body definitely needed one moment more to fully wake up.

Next to her, she could still hear the knight breathe in asleep rhythms. The rooster seemingly did not have any effect on him yet. This actually could be used to her advantage; she could simply sneak out right now. And maybe even before he was actually awake, she was already dressed and out of the room for good. If she was careful and swift, Ophelia could get away from him and the threat he was to her.

Her eyes were wide awake now, after having her escape plan ready. Really slowly and carefully, she started to move her body towards the edge of the bed and made sure the blanket would not move too much.

She was still watching the knight like a hawk as her barren feet met the cold floor, but he seemed like he was not aware of what she was doing at all. To her, he looked really peaceful, just sleeping comfortably. His brown hair was much messier than it had looked during the day, and she was probably wasting her time by taking a second too long to just watch him instead of getting ready to head off.

What am I even doing? I should get dressed and go! She thought as she caught herself staring and stopping in her movements for too long.

Carefully and slowly, she took a step towards the chest of drawers in order to get her gown. Thankfully the wood under her feet did not make a sound, and she reached the chest without making a sound that could have woken him up.

As carefully as she had taken the steps just a moment ago, she opened the drawer and pulled the new gown out. Everything she did was in slow movements, preventing noises as much as was possible for her, and despite it taking really long to put on the gown over her chemise it was worth it. Once she was dressed, she allowed herself to quietly breathe through before taking the few steps towards her boots.

It’s probably best to put them on outside. She thought after picking them up. It was too much of a risk for her to put them on in the room where the knight was still asleep. It simply could not go wrong this close to success.

Since she did not have anything else than the clothes to wear to call her own, she was ready to leave. And yet she took a moment to look back at him once again. He was still asleep, somewhere in hopefully good dreams, and would only later find out that she was gone. Ophelia knew that she had to go at that very moment, as she had already lost too much time. After she stepped out that door, she would never see the knight again, hopefully and yet tragically in a way, never again.

Maybe in another life we could have been friends. Not sent to kill me but to actually save me, like in the stories I had heard as a little child. But this is not a story like those; it is one of a witch hunt, and I am the witch instead of your damsel in distress. I need to get away from you, Keith Campbell.

Closing the door behind her, she also closed the chapter with the knight for her. Swiftly, she put on her boots and made her way down the stairs. She was eventually free again and ready to go somewhere safe.

“Oh, you are up early!” The innkeeper’s wife made Ophelia flinch when said one reached the main hall.

“Uh, yes, I am.”

“I hope you like the gown; I surely couldn’t let you walk around in that ruined one even one day more.” Her smile was bright and honest, something Ophelia was not really used to anymore.

“Thank you, I really do.”

“It is an old one my daughter doesn’t fit into anymore; that’s what children do to your body.”

Ophelia matched the woman’s light laugh but hoped to still get away swiftly.

“Where are you off to anyway this early? Looking for something?”

“Uh, no, I was just… going for a morning walk; I usually do these. And, well, I guess I’ll see where it will lead me.”

“Ah. And I thought you would sneak off.”

What? Ophelia tried to control her face as best as she could not to let the truth shine through her lies.

“Oh, come on, you might have done a good job pretending to actually be his wife, but you don’t look like it. Trust me, I have met and seen enough people to see the truth.”

“I beg your pardon? I think you might be entirely mistaken.”

“No, I don’t think I am.”

“Why would you be so sure of that?”

“You do not dress the part, and you have no idea what married women do with their hair. Also, there is no ring, and you surely do not have any buyable excuse for it either. And what kind of knight would actually take their wife with them on a mission? I could not name one either. Also, there surely is no way no one heard of your non-existent wedding since your false husband is too known around the county.”

The woman really uncovered it all, and Ophelia did not know what to say or how to react for a moment. She just stood there and tried to think about words or how she could get out of this situation swiftly and safely.

While Ophelia was still filled with panic, the woman spoke again. “But do not worry; I do not care and won’t tell a soul. Just take care of yourself and make sure you won’t end up in trouble again.”

“Uh, thank you. But may I ask why you are so kind?”

“I’ve been young once too, you know.” That was all she got from the woman — that and a farewell with a smile.

I just hope she really does not tell a soul, especially Keith. But she seemed sincere, so that surely will not happen. At least not everyone on this earth is a threat, and unkind and good people still exist.

The only question now is where I am supposed to head off to. And I literally do not have any money, so paying someone to take me along in a carriage is not an option. But I am so much more hidden in the woods by foot anyway. I just need to be even more careful, especially with Keith being still so close. He found me once; there is no need to meet him twice.

Maybe I could find work in a village and continue my journey after making enough for a horse. Stealing one is no option since they would be after me for being a thief, which would not be ideal either.

While still considering her options, Ophelia simply followed the main road towards the end of the town, which would also lead her into the wilderness again. Since it was early in the morning, she did not see a single soul on her way through the village except for some animals, especially many birds.