Tavern of Witchita

17 | Caught

Her eyelids flutter open, eyes feeling sticky and still tired. She winces at the blinding light she first sees, her eyes then adjust to the beam. Narra notices the surroundings she's in and the people in front of her.

What the fuck.

“She's awake, my king.” A soldier points out, to be frank, there are at least more than a dozen soldiers surrounding the wealthy and grand room.

A pig-shaped man in king's clothing sits on a golden and red cushioned throne. His eyes meet hers and she feels a raging flame light up within her. This guy...

“You fucking bastard!” Narra screams at the man, startling both him and the soldiers around her.

If she doesn't squirm, the anger will blind her from noticing that she is indeed tied up on a chair.

The pig-man seated in the middle chuckles at her yells, holding his arms out in defense.

“My, my, she's already letting it out, huh?”

Within the few words he spoke out, it stings Narra brutally, only fueling the fire that burns within her. This is the man that burned her mother. Every millisecond of his voice is like gasoline. With no thoughts, Narra begins to snarls.

“Why did you kill my mother?”

The king raises a brow, smirking in amusement. It's terrible to realize that a man like this governs a kingdom so cheery.

“Is this why you presented yourself openly to the kingdom? You could have at least changed your surname.” He taunts, earning a growl from Narra.

“Your mother is a witch. She's corrupted, sinful…The magic and power she holds is a threat to our kingdom.”

“It's not a threat to the kingdom, it's a threat to you. ”

The king appears taken back for a bit before he returns his ugly-smirk. The soldiers around are surprised at her brave words.

“My mother would never do something so bad. Are you telling me the reason you burned her on the stake is that she has the power to stop your tyranny?” Narra asks, the last part of her sentence sounding more like a mockery than a question.

“You're as annoying and as meddlesome as your mother.” The king insults her and Narra merely glares at him.

“Send her off.”

The armor of the two soldiers clatter upon walking, their gaze seemingly focused on the hall ahead of them instead of the jailbird.

Narra follows between the two men, her hands fastened to her back, metal cuffs that bind her dig into her skin. Her eyebrows knit in frustration.

Appearing to have notice the girl's change of expression, one of the soldiers nudge Narra forward. She stumbles, only for another soldier to yank an arm of her's.

The girl winces at the forceful grip and regains her stand.

What she feels right now is a mixture of resentment, frustration, and impatience. As childish as it may seem, all that is in her head are curses to the king.

The painfully long stroll to the dungeon continues. If she stays here any longer, Narra knows she'll meet a similar fate to her mother, perhaps less publically.

Her coal eyes dart to the hallow creaks the castle people call ‘windows’ Her sight searching for a bird, any bird, preferably a crow.

‘Little guys, come help me out a bit, please.’

A leaf the size of a spoon is stuck to the back of Narra's neck. Limaria leaves are what they are called.

These plants are the only things that can keep a witch at bay. The plant brings an allergic or toxic reaction to their bodies. It conceals the calls of their spells.

She wonders to her how humans figured this out.

Even when the leaf stuck to her neck limits what she can do, it's better to at least try. The closest ones should be able to hear her calls.

There's one bird near, its ink-black wings soar from a distance. Narra's eyes brighten on the sight of the creature, careful not to show a smile or else the guards might see it as well.

Not a mere two seconds later, one of the guards sees Narra's head pointing in an odd direction. He follows her gaze and sees an ash bird flying far. This is enough to trigger a red flag.

He halts in his tracks, turning to Narra as the soldier pushes the toxic leaf deeper into her neck.

Wincing, a painful cry leaves her mouth. The additional soldier grabs her by the wrist, heaving her backward to keep the girl in check.

The crow loses track and flies away, no longer suspecting a call from their mistress.

Narra closes her mouth, turning to send a side-glare to both soldiers. Some fucking escorts you are.

Harshly, her shoulder is gripped by a guard as he instead drags the witch to a metallic door by the empty corridor.

Narra's bitterness rises per second as she is pulled. The other soldier opens the metal entrance. Mere seconds later, her sight is met with a dim and isolated dungeon.

Her coal eyes soften in worry.

Before the girl could even react, she is shoved into a cell. She groans, her head and whole body slamming into the cold and hard ground. The cell is sealed and the door is slammed shut, leaving the witch all to herself.

Her hands are still restrained and her dress is patched with dirt. The girl's body aches in exhaustion and injury. She grits her teeth, eyes squeezed shut in frustration as an overwhelming amount of emotions come to her.

Fear and doubt find the young girl. It speaks to her in bone-chilling whispers. It tells her body to curl up in shame, her stomach to lurch, and her heart to ache. Narra's mother once told her there is nothing to fear but fear itself, yet she cannot silence its whispers.

Surrounded by three concrete walls and a border of metal cells, she lies on the cold and rough floor, nothing to do that to stare at the tiny insects passing by. So this is what the queen felt like…

Somebody once told her she is strong. Sometimes, Narra really does believe those words. But on days like today, when the feelings overwhelm her, the word ‘strong’ becomes insignificant to the waves of emotions.

There was a time Narra knew everything and she was so confident. Then as the lady gains more experience, she see how imperfect her knowledge was.

Now she's hating less on the king but more on herself. If only she just stayed in her tavern.

The tears leak slowly, then like water from a dam. It spills down her face.

Narra feels herself tremble and her breathing gets uneasy. There is static in her head, the side effects of the fear and stress that is engulfing her. The witch hears her own sounds, her own sobs, and whimpers, like a distressed child receiving the consequences of her actions.

She's pathetic.
Sticking her nose into other people's business just because she's a witch. Now that Narra's captured, the king is possibly hunting for Horns and the others now. When she finally became a worthy witch had to be the time she gets imprisoned.

Squeks echo within the dark catacomb, a little white mouse peeks from a distance. Seeing the young witch cry, the mouse runs to her her and sits by the girl.