Page 53
Story: The WitchSlayer
She is homesick.He turned his head to stare at the pile of treasure around them, but also towards the direction of his entire lair.She is not comfortable here.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to take her back. She couldn’t leave, and it was likely that they’d already destroyed her home. Although he wanted to kill that cat when he left, it had been her companion.
Why do I care if she is sad or not?His eyes fell on the woman sitting quietly on top of wealth who wanted nothing more than to live like a peasant.
Then she seemed to snap out of it, bouncing to her feet like nothing had been the matter a moment before.
“I am hungry. Since you will not allow me the use of magic in your home, will you prepare the pot and water so that I may eat?”
Rurik blinked at her abrupt change of behaviour.
Amalia stood over the cooking hearth, boiling the vegetables she obtained in the alcove close to the entrance of his cave.
Her eyes often found his as he watched her from the entryway. She was rather surprised that he didn’t just dump everything she needed into this room and leave.
She noted that he often watched her move around his home, or found her and then stayed with her.I must be a source of entertainment for him.She thought that should bother her, but she would rather this than for him to be hateful and mean.
At least she knew he didn’t disdain her presence. With the way he watched her, she had an inkling that he may actually like it.
“Do you have any herbs or spices? Food is often bland without them.”
“I will not allow you to have anything that will allow you to use magic in my lair if I can avoid it.”
She sighed while rolling her eyes. “I just want it for food.”
“Yes, but once you have it, you may want to play with it.”
“It is like you wish for me to be unhappy in your home,” she grumbled.
Rurik frowned, his head tilting to the side. “Are you unhappy?”
“Well, no, but I am not content either. You keep telling me not to touch things. There is nowhere other than this table and chair for me to sit.” She pointed to furniture she was speaking of in the middle of the room. “And you will not allow me to use magic even though it will not cause harm.”
His eyes fell to the dining table she gestured to before they fell back on her. The look on his face was clear.He does not understand.
She half-expected him to tell her she should just be thankful she was alive, but he didn’t. Instead, he rolled his eyes and swiftly turned from the room like he no longer cared for the conversation.
Great, I have been dismissed.
With a pout, Amalia sat at the table eating the array of plain vegetables she cooked.Am I not even allowed salt and pepper?
He didn’t return, and she didn’t go looking for him. She chose to walk to the front of his lair and sat in the middle of the exit to stare at the outside world she was unsure she would ever be allowed to touch again.
She missed the grass under her feet, the touch of bark against her fingertips, the sun washing over her skin.
At some point, she wanted to wake early enough to see if the sunlight came into the mouth of the cave. The mountain caused a shadow across the land in the evenings so she thought the cave entrance may be facing east.
It is quite a beautiful view.Although the ground was rocky directly in front of her, she knew that she was only halfway up the mountain.
Not too far away was a small clearing that turned from rocky mountain into grass. It spread between the single tree here and there before it became a lush green forest. On one side, she could see a river that ran through the forest some distance away. She bet the stream in his lair connected to it.
She couldn’t see any towns or buildings, but the area just seemed much more peaceful because of it.
Scraping noises and the sounds of rock shifting against rock from behind her in the tunnel grabbed her attention.
She turned her head to see the tail of the Dragon coming towards her. He was walking backwards slowly with his forearms sweeping often against the ground.
“Move it, Witch,” he demanded.
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