Hara and the Witch

Chapter 10: Time for Memories?

And then came a girl.

The two somehow became friends, although even they were aware how unlikely a match they seemed. One was the pride of all who saw her, the other completely disinterested in such things and also generally able to make children and adults avoid her at all costs. One always to followed rules and the other always to followed her intuition.

People seemed to think one would reform the other or that maybe one would lead the other astray - what they suspected a seven year old could do, however, was never made entirely clear. But it didn't happen, any of it, because these girls didn't want to change each other, they simply wanted to be around someone who understood the one thing dearest to their heart: the need to get out.

So while other children went to parties, these girls made up stories about all the adventures they would go on, the things they would see and the way the world out there, beyond their knowledge, would look.

Years passed and their friendship grew and changed and at some point became something else. Neither specifically noticed the moment of the change, but the girls - our girl, a girl with green hair and furious cheeks - could never forget the moment they made the promise. She was 12, the other two years older. They had spent hours and days and weeks and years imagining the future, so when she... when Hara said, 'When we leave, lets leave together,' it felt amazing they had never spoken those words before. The air practically crackled, shifting around them with so much weight they could feel every breath, every sigh.

'Of course. We'll be questers together! We'll change the world.'

'Or we could just live in it,' Hara said, her heart warming. 'Together.'

'Together.'

Years passed, they grew up and fell in love and all without noticing.

Every day, between smiles and laughter and kisses and plans, they promised to spend the future together.

Until one day... that promise was discarded.

A broken heart is one thing, but a broken promise is quite another. Hara watched her love take up hands with another and leave the village with him, the two of them heading into the world to be questers while she felt her soul cracking.

'I think it might have hurt less... if she hadn't left with someone,' Hara said quietly, sipping her water. 'That on top of heartbreak... I didn't know what I'd done. Took me a while to work it out.'

'What?' Marigold frowned. She had crouched, at first, and then sat beside Hara as Plim told the story. Now she drew back her hand from where it rested on Hara's hair and gazed at her.

'Nothing. I hadn't done a thing. One day we were together, the next... she got a better offer. And I don't think I can forgive her for making me think...' Hara shook her head, but Plim and Marigold understood.

'It wasn't your fault, Hara,' Plim said, nuzzling her face gently.

'I didn't expect it to feel like this,' Hara said. She still tried to smile, but she didn't know whether it was for their benefit or hers.

'Heartbreak is an unpredictable beast,' Marigold said.

'I shouldn't be angry, though. She was a good person. We were only children, really.' She wiped her eyes and stood up, ruffling Plim's feathers. The dove chirruped and hopped onto her shoulder, burying her beak into the curls of her green hair. Hara extended her hand and helped Marigold up. The witch still gazed at her intently.

'Good people,' she offered, 'don't do what she did.'

Hara shrugged. 'No. They probably don't.' And that was it. Really, was there anything more to be said? 'Now... can we go look at some weapons?'

Marigold led the way to a quaint little building across the square, listening to Plim chatter on about a chest piece she once saw in a shop window and how she had never seen anything so beautiful before or since. Marigold scanned the square, but even if she had known who she was looking for it would have been hard to pick her out amongst all the staring faces, the rumour of the witch being back spreading fast and loud. Even though they let her be, very presence still seemed to unsettle many townsfolk and they would watch her avidly, although today it seemed somehow different. More.

Marigold looked down sharply, gazing at Hara's hand clasped in her own. Hara's fingers, interlocking with her own.

'It's ok,' Hara said, smiling quietly. 'They're just a bunch of trouble makers.' The witch smiled and, oddly, she noticed the voices less as they walked the rest of the way and then marched into the small building. It was a little off the main square, tucked around the corner in a lovely old store that seemed once to have been a cottage. A trio of bells rang as the three entered and, looking around, it was odd to realise how homely the store was, a warmth emanating from the candlelit surfaces and open windows, rug covered wood floor and tapestries along every vacant wall. Odd because atop each bare surface, hanging in the windows, reflected in mirrors, were the weapons.