I listen as Leisel gives me a synopsis of what she’s read so far, nodding along while preparing our breakfast. By the time I set our bowls on the table, she’s moved on from talking to me and is back to reading while absently petting Chip.
I drop a handful of nuts onto the wooden surface of the table by Leisel’s bowl for Chip as well as a strawberry, and he quickly runs down Leisel’s arm to get to his breakfast.
As we eat, I say, “I’m going to muck out the stables after breakfast—I expect you to have finished with your history lesson once I’m back, and we’ll go over it.” Leisel, like I was, is an incredibly advanced student—we’re already going over ninth-grade textbook material, years ahead of her educational age range.
“History is so boring,” she mutters with a pout.
I chuckle. “I didn’t like it much, either, but it’s important nonetheless. We’ll have lunch, and after that, I’ll be in the forest for an hour or two emptying out traps and hunting, during which time you’ll haveyour English lesson. Once we’ve gone over that, if you’re up to it, I think you’re ready for the next chapter in our spell book.”
That offerreallygets Leisel’s attention, and her eyes widen with excitement. “The one about wards?”
Along with our collection of classic literature and textbooks, my mother left behind a few ancient books, of which there are a very limited number of copies in the world. Books of witchcraft—books that were passed through the generations of my mother’s bloodline.
“Yes,” I tell Leisel, scooping up a bit of oatmeal along with a strawberry on my wooden spoon. Once I’ve chewed and swallowed the bite I say, “The chapter also goes over beseeching favor of the gods.”
As far as everyone is concerned, there are no longer such things as earthly witches,humanwitches. They simply don’t exist in the eyes of those on Earth. The population of both humans and mythics are blissfully unaware that there are still a number of human witches left, such as me and Leisel.
I was taught from birth to hide my magical blood because if anyone found out about it, I’d either be lusted after due to my powers or killed by those who fear such power. Another reason I’m grateful for living a distance away from the village is that Leisel and I can practice what little witchcraft I’ve learned without worrying about a nosy neighbor catching wind of our activities.
I only have one discernable magical power, but it’s a rare one that my mother told me hadn’t surfaced in thousands of years. Leisel only has one as well; the power to heal. Despite her young age, she’s already remarkably capable and powerful. I suspect the reason Chip has lived for four years is because of his constant contact with Leisel. Her powers have expanded his lifespan, possibly indefinitely. My power, however, is geared much more to harm than help—hence why I’m particularly careful with it.
Leisel bounces up and down in her seat. “Can we start with that instead of history?”
I laugh. “You know the drill, sweet girl. First the boring, then the fun. After we’re done with your studies and my work for the day we’ll be heading into the town to trade and buy some food and supplies.”
Her eyes brighten even more at that. Although I believe Leisel enjoys the little slice of paradise we live on, she’s an incredibly social person and also loves spending time around other people. I try to take her into town at least a few times a week—sometimes simply to walk around and marvel at the bustling market Aesara is home to.
“Can we have beef stew for dinner?” she asks.
I smile, knowing it’s her favorite dish. All of the recipes I know, I learned from my mother, who was a spectacular cook. She was a spectaculareverything, a true role model. “Absolutely. Now finish up, I need to get going.”
Chapter Two
Several hours later, once I’ve taken care of our stables, rubbed down the horses, fed Leisel lunch, gone over her lessons, and gone for a relatively bountiful hunt, we make our way into town.
I ride on the back of my gleaming-black stallion, Shadow, with a cart pulling behind us that contains fruits, vegetables, grains, and meats—rabbit and buck primarily—all separated in brown sacks. Leisel rides beside me on Duchess, a beautiful mare with a rich dark brown coat, who adores Leisel as much as Leisel adores her.
Chip is happily munching on a hazelnut, perched contentedly on Leisel’s shoulder, enjoying the afternoon sun. Leisel refuses to go anywhere without him, so he’s used to our regular visits into the village.
Aesara, as always, is bustling with trade. A market is set up in the large town square, with dozens of wooden vendor stalls for selling a variety of items lined up in rows. Bright clothes are on display along with other textiles, as well as knickknacks, tools, and foods of just about every kind. The smell of grilling meat wafts around, mixed with aromatic spices. Chatter fills the entire space as sellers and buyers negotiate, bargain, and haggle their way through sales.
As always, my first stop is the butcher’s shop—a stone establishment on the very edge of the market. I dismount my stallion, help Leisel off her mare, and tie the reins of both horses to a post withinreach of water buckets. Then, grabbing the quarry I’ve collected over the last few days, I lug the sack into the bright interior of the shop. Leisel hovers near our horses outside, since she doesn’t much like the smell or energy of the shop. As a natural-born healer, I doubt she’ll ever be capable of inflicting any harm, even when hunting is necessary for our survival.
The butcher, a seasoned man I’ve known since birth who was close friends with my parents, smiles as I walk in. He’s a giant of a man with nut-brown skin and warm chocolate-colored eyes.
“Afternoon, Sierra,” he greets, setting down his gleaming sharp knife and washing his hands in a small sink. “What do you have for me today?”
“Hello, Parker,” I approach the display cabinet that separates us and hand him my sack. “The usual. Rabbit and buck, both skinned and partially cut up.”
The plump man nods contentedly, unloading my haul onto a clean wooden board and sorting through the cuts of meat. “Excellent haul,” he comments. “You know, you’re getting quite handy with cutting up your catches. I could use an extra set of hands around here.”
I laugh. Parker’s been trying to get me to work for him for years—and I would if I didn’t have a small farm to run on my own and a child to raise on top of it. Some days I’m truly shocked that I manage everything, and thank the gods for giving me a strong, healthy, and capable body. Without it, Leisel and I would’ve starved long ago.
“I already bring you meat several times a week, Parker. I’m afraid that’s all I can manage with Leisel and the farm.”
He glances up, brown eyes meeting mine. “Your parents would’ve been very proud of you.”
I swallow around the clog of emotion that forms in my throat and blink a few times before looking away. I miss my parents every singleday, pray to the gods for their souls each night, and despise mythics for being the reason for their downfall.
