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Story: The WitchSlayer

Amalia sat up and found herself on the cold ground as she held him in one arm. She was still a little dizzy, but at least she remembered everything.

It’d felt like every ounce of magic and strength she’d possessed had been sucked away from her. Clenching and unclenching her free hand, she knew it was only temporary.

Since she was absolutely starving, she immediately got to her feet so she could go to the kitchen to raid it for all the fruit she could find. She also fed Bala because he wouldn’t shut up and then sent him outside to be the stray he was.

Eating while nursing a headache, her eyes fell onto the creature she currently had in a cage.

It was already watching her. She noticed it did that a lot.

“And how to do you feel, you lucky bastard?”

It appeared to glare, so she turned her sight down to her arms.

The cut down her forearm definitely needed cleaning and medicine, and so did all the scratches and bite marks. They weren’t small either. There were bruises around every sharp and deep fang mark, showing just how upset it’d been.

Since she waited so long to do anything about them, she knew they would scar. If she had put medicine on before she’d passed out, she may have been able to fix her skin completely.

Like a new daily ritual, she boiled the tea and collected the ointment she had ready for the creature. It wasn’t happy with her, but it did let her freely grab it from the cage – once she found the key she’d dropped, that is.

She gave it the tea and let its effects start working before she started lifting its wings.

“Your scratches are gone, and your wings are already healing. Maybe tomorrow I can free you. I know how much you want to be free of me.” She poked its hard chest, and it snapped its teeth near her finger. “You do not like me very much, do you?”

Whatever.She started lathering its wings and the centre of its back with the medicine before she took it outside to sit with it in the sun on her steps, gently holding its underbelly so the warm light could wash over them both.

“I still feel terrible that I could not save Alesia.” She slumped her shoulders, and the lizard turned its head back to look at her. “She was rather young, and her husband must be devastated. It is not very often I cannot save someone giving birth, but sometimes there is just too much damage.”

She placed the animal on her lap, hoping it wouldn’t scuttle away and she wouldn’t be forced to chase it through the forest. It didn’t, and she was able to prop her elbows behind her against the porch of her cottage.

She stared out at the thick brush of woodlands before her, just past the small clearing surrounding her home. It was eerily quiet. It always was, except for the odd bird that squawked in the distance.

“I have never done blood magic before removing your hex. Which, by the way, I am rather curious about. That was no pixie hex. That was something much more powerful.” It eyed her suspiciously with its snout bunching. She turned her head away from it to lift her face to the beautiful and welcoming sun. “But now I am left wondering... Perhaps if I had done it before, I may have been able to save her.”

She curled her arms around the lizard, not to trap it, but to lean against her legs as she looked back down.

“Is dark magic really that bad if it can be used to save people?” Its eyes widened. “Now, do not get me wrong, Lady Lizard. I think using parts of animals is the absolutely worst way to go about it.”

Sometimes with the way this creature stared at her when she spoke, she felt like it was listening to her. It didn’t seem as uncomprehending as other animals did. She thought there may even be intelligence there.

Like now, with how its emotions seemed to reflect her words.

Blank when she spoke of Alesia, but then it almost seemed angry that she had suggested the use of dark magic. Only when she added that she didn’t want to harm animals, did its gaze softened.

“Why can I not use my own blood?” It tilted its head. “I am not harming anyone or anything if I use my own power. It would mean I could save more people. Why can I not do that?”

She checked the lizard’s wings gingerly with her fingertips, lifting them to see they were healing further. She knew the longer they stayed in the sun, the better it was for its healing, so she continued to sit with it.

“I probably will not do it again, though. It harbours far too much risk. I just want to live in peace and help those around me that I can. If I start down that path, the townsfolk may start to notice.” Then she gave a small laugh which startled the wee creature. “They would probably run afraid if I just started cutting myself in the town. They could even throw me in the lunatic asylum for women.”

She smiled down, and it twisted its fat head at her.

“Are you feeling any better?”

For the first time since Bala had brought it inside, the creature tried to move its wings. She heard cracking sounds as it stretched them, most likely popping the bones back into their rightful places.

“That tea works wonders, does it not? You would not have been able to do that on your own.”

It snapped its head to her with a glare. That glare deepened when she started prodding its back while moving her fingers in a circle. When it tried to bite her, she tapped it on the snout. It looked at her in shock, like it was dumbfounded she had the audacity to smack it.

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