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Story: The WitchSlayer

She heard him turn in the room she’d been in by the sound of coins sliding against each other. There were also the sounds of his heavy paws hitting the ground as he gave chase.

Amalia had no idea where she was going, but it didn’t matter. Before long, he grabbed her in his forepaw and turned her in his hand to face him.

Their positions had been changed. She was no longer the one handling a tiny lizard. Instead, she was the small prey he held captive.

She pushed at his scaled fingers to free herself to no avail.

“What was the point in saving me if I will not really have a life?”

“Because you saw my human face,” he puffed at her, obviously seething in his anger and barely able to rein it in.

“I do not remember seeing anyone.”

“Think, little Witch.”

So, she did. She paused to think on what she could remember. Her brows drew together into a tight knot while she tried to recollect everything.

“Wait, you are the handsome stranger? I thought he was a Witch who had taken away my pain as I died.” She wished she hadn’t added that last part, because his eyes went wide, and then one twitched. “I am sorry! I did not mean to offend you. I just did not know about your kind at the time.”

That seemed to rectify her mistake, because he took in a long draw of air and released it before the tension left him.

“I did not mean to look at you. I will not tell anyone.”

It was a sincere promise.

“That does not matter. By the laws of my kind, you are not allowed to know my face or where my lair is. I do not want you in my home.” He gently placed her down on her feet with his face softening. “But regrettably, I also do not wish to kill you.”

“I hardly call that a mercy.” His soft look turned into a sharp scowl. “I released you once I healed you. Can you not do the same for me?”

“No. Even though I do not think you wish to cause me any harm, there are ways other Witches can get you to talk or see your memories.”

She fell to her bottom, understanding that he truly intended to keep her here.

“I would much rather you kill me then.”

“Excuse me?”

His eyes blinked rapidly, dumbfounded by her words.

“What kind of life would I be able to live? Imprisonment does not seem like a life that I would be able to enjoy, or anyone, for that matter.”

“You told me that you wished to live in peace. In my lair, as long as you leave me alone and never use your magic, you will have peace.”

Her eyes fell to the cave walls of the large tunnel they were in. She felt the dirt beneath her palms and fingertips, the coldness of the stone.

“I wanted to live in peace as myself. I wanted to help people, heal the wounded or sick whether they be human or animal.” Her eyes fell back to him as she turned her head up. “You are asking me to no longer use magic or be anything of what I was when you found me. You also told me I would never leave your cave. That would mean I would never be able to touch the sunlight or feel the grass beneath my feet.”

“You would be alive,” he answered, like that was enough.

After this conversation, she no longer felt so frightened, just upset that she would be imprisoned here.

She wasn’t some feeble human that was desperate for life. She wasn’t afraid of death. It would come for her one day, and although she had wanted it to be of old age, she didn’t want to live a life of misery.

He glared when she snorted a laugh.

“I would be as much alive as you were trapped in that birdcage.”

“This is the end of this discussion.” He tapped a single claw against her torso, forcing her to fall back against the hard ground. “You will live, and it will be in my lair. If I find you using magic, I will lock you in the prison alcove I have available. Be thankful I am allowing you to roam.”

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