The Final Days of Springborough
Chapter 32: The Princess and the Witch

Kyrstin didn’t know which felt heavier, her soaked clothes sticking to her skin, or the sword in her hand. The path back to Springborough felt interminably long, much longer than when she had first transversed it this morning in order to get to her grandma’s cottage. Now she felt like she would never get back to the castle. The whole Earth felt saturated by rain water. The trees looked as if they would not be able to endure anymore weather. There were puddles everywhere as if the ground held too much well water and was now bursting from every angle. The puddles seemed to come up from underneath, and not be a collection of the precipitation.

The princess longed for a ray of sun, or a bit of blue sky, or a moment where wind wasn’t whipping at her hair or skin. She had never seen a storm such as this, and absolutely had never been physically in one. She could remember only one other storm, when the rain came in through her bedroom window, and the wind had rattled the torches in the castle so much that it snuffed out all of the light, and Thomas had defied his parents orders by going out and hanging out with Patrick in the barn in order to make sure the gentle giant wasn’t too afraid, that even somewhat compared to this one. But, that storm didn’t last very long. It seemed by the time Thomas got to Patrick in the barn, it was already half over. Meanwhile, this storm had been going on for most of the afternoon already and did not show signs of stopping.

Kyrstin was hoping the Kingdom of Springborough was still standing by the time she got back.

She thought about returning to her grandmother’s cottage, seeking shelter there, but she didn’t know if it was even providing adequate shelter now with its big door wide open. She envisioned the wind whipping about the place, taking the books off the shelves, upending furniture, creating a wind tunnel inside, demolishing everything. Kyrstin felt sad for her grandmother, in the off chance that she was still alive, returning to her cottage to find everything ruined, and a week’s worth of clean-up to be done. Although, she believed that the Ex-Queen wouldn’t really be the one doing much of the clean-up.

When the storm was over, Kyrstin vowed to return with dozens of the kingdom’s people, to fix up her grandmother’s cottage, to fix the door, mop up the blood, right the knick-knacks and get everything prepared in case her grandmother returned. And if she never did return, if the worst of the situation was true, then she would preserve the cottage for her grandmother’s spirit. Maybe Kyrstin would return with Brynn, and use the blonde archer’s skill to commune with the dead in order to have the conversation she longed to have this morning before the world turned upside down.

On this day of peculiar sights, the sights of a bloody cottage, of the inside of Brynn’s hut, of the tall bear that stood on its hind legs before her- nothing took her breath away more so than Leila the Witch coming toward her on the trail, almost as if she was untouched by the storm, her arms crossed in front of her, her hair dry, her feet never sinking into the mud so her toes were clean. It was as if the witch moved about inside a large, invisible leaf pod, the rain bending at an impossible angle around her.

Kyrstin changed her grip on the sword, cursing herself for not taking a sheath with her. She felt burdened by carrying the blade. Leila looked up, noticing the Princess, but treating it as a usual occurrence, crossing a royal’s path as you travel through the woods in the middle of the worst storm in known history. The princess didn’t like the way the witch looked away upon seeing her. There was no mistaking that they knew the other was around.

“Leila?” Kyrstin asked in greeting, knowing it was the Witch.

“Your highness,” the Witch replied, making no effort to stop.

“Leila,” Kyrstin said, in such a tone that the Witch knew there was to be a conversation, and her attention was expected. Leila did stop, facing the drenched Princess with only a spattering of water on her own face. “What brings you out to the woods?”

Leila looked at Kyrstin, the color of her eyes seeming to mist about as if the storm was trapped inside of them. But, that was always how Leila had looked, and while Thomas held a fondness for the witch, Kyrstin didn’t trust in such things or people. To Kyrstin, she looked like a woman who had seen too much bad in the world. She looked like a woman who couldn’t be surprised anymore and, if such was the case, she looked like a woman who never had to be worried about being the most knowledgable person in the room. That, and there was something off-putting to Kyrstin about someone knowing what your future held more than you, as if Leila held Kyrstin’s secrets from Kyrstin herself, and for some untellable reason, that really bothered the young Princess.

“What brings you out to the woods in the middle of the storm?” Kyrstin asked.

“I come to the woods quite often, your highness. As for the storm, it doesn’t really bother me.”

It doesn’t, does it? Kyrstin thought, watching as Leila’s bangs blew in the breeze, while Kyrstin’s stuck to her face.

“Can you foresee when this storm might stop?”

“No.”

The bluntness of the answer unnerved Kyrstin. Why was it so cut-and-dry? she wondered to herself. As if our weather was going to be an interminable storm for the rest of our lives, for the rest of Leila’s life, and it was to be expected, not to be questioned.

“I have no doubt it will, though, your highness. Stop. The storm.”

Kyrstin looked about them. Looked for a threat. There was none.

“And you, your highness? What brings the Princess of Springborough out to the woods?”

But, Kyrstin knew Leila knew. Leila knows everything before people know themselves. Having a conversation with her was difficult because Kyrstin knew that Leila knew any answer to any question she asked, before she asked it. Kyrstin saw right through the act which Thomas did not. But, Thomas, being a boy, probably only didn’t see such things because of Leila’s beauty.

Kyrstin wished the Witch would just say what the Princess needed to know and carry on, something along the lines of: “Hello, your highness. This storm will never stop. I always stroll through the woods. Rain doesn’t touch me because of magic. Springborough still stands. Your parents are fine…” And on and on. Just a deluge of information, and Kyrstin might find Leila tolerable. Leila, though, always kept it mostly to herself, only offering specific answers to specific questions, which made her seem untrustworthy.

“I went out this morning to visit my grandmother.”

“How is the Queen?” Leila asked, her eyes smiling because she already knew.

But, why smile? Kyrstin thought.

“Missing,” Kyrstin replied curtly. “You know that.”

“We’re all missing now,” Leila replied. “Why the castle believes you to be missing as well.”

I suppose that’s true, Kyrstin thought to herself. I should be in the castle, and I’m not. For all they know- I was murdered. For all I know, maybe my grandma left the cottage to visit a friend of hers. Plausible?

But, the blood…

“Have you seen a bear, Leila?”

“Great, big and brown? An arrow in its chest?”

“Yes. That one.”

“Yes, your brother has it.”

“Thomas captured the bear?” Why would he do that?

“Not Thomas. Patrick. The princes came out into the woods after you. Well, Thomas mainly was coming for his sword, and Patrick was accompanying his brother so as not to be alone in this storm. They came across the bear at the Queen’s Cottage, and Patrick put it on a leash. Your brother is getting quite strong, you know.”

“Where are they now?”

“Patrick and the Bear are in the Kingdom.”

“They’re back in the Kingdom?” Kyrstin asked, smiling. That was pleasant news, for she knew she had to find the bear, but she didn’t want to be out in this weather too much longer. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Yes, your brother has taken the bear in as a sort of pet.”

That didn’t matter to Kyrstin, pet or not, that bear might have the Queen’s ring inside of it, and she would stop at nothing to get it back. With her first good news of the day, Kyrstin didn’t feel the storm as much anymore. She didn’t feel weighed down by her soaked clothes either. She smiled and nodded at Leila, the Witch of Good News (for once) and prepared to take leave of her, letting Leila wander on some more in the woods as Kyrstin made her way back to her family’s castle.

“Thank you, Leila.”

“Will there be anything else, your highness?”

“Do you know where my grandmother is?”

Leila’s brow scrunched as she thought about it. Kyrstin could see her mind working itself in a frenzy, and the witch biting her own lower lip and looking down at rain collecting in a hoof print. Leila breathed heavy through her nostrils, and finally looked up at Kyrstin.

“I do not, princess.”

“Is that strange for you?”

“It is. And, it’s not.”

“What could that mean? You not knowing?”

“There’s other magic in this world other than mine. Take this storm for instance. Filled with dark spirits, but that’s not what should concern us, your highness. This storm carries with it weight. As it gets stronger, the people will feel its weight. Some people, when faced with this type of weight, get sad and depressed. And some people, as the storm weighs them down, will begin to lash out at others. This storm brings with it hatred, your highness. Agitation. Beware of boys with swords, boys who don’t know their own strength. The storm will weigh on us all, and we all will be changed because of it.”

Kyrstin nodded at the witch, and gathered her sword. “Be safe out here, Leila. If what you say is true, none of us should brave this storm.”

“Have no worry, Princess. We won’t have to be brave for long.”

Kyrstin turned to run, determined to get back to the castle as fast as possible.

“You didn’t ask about your brother Thomas,” Leila called, disrupting the Princess’ gait back.

“Thomas? But, isn’t he at the castle?”

“No,” she replied, pointing off in a direction Kyrstin hadn’t been yet. “He went off after you. Or where he thought you went. He’s been taken prisoner in the Village of Fortis.”

“What?” Kyrstin asked, knowing full well she heard and understood every word.

“They mean to kill him.”

Kyrstin, a moment ago so sure of her direction, felt miserably conflicted looking off both ways.

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