The Village
Everything on this mission was going according to plan. Actually, thought Athos, it was going far too smoothly for his liking. He, Porthos, Aramis and their newest recruit, d'Artagnan, were escorting some priests to a baptism in a nearby village. The small village of people was converting to Catholicism and the Inseparables were there to ensure that nothing went wrong. It was an easy enough task, perfect for d'Artagnan who needed more on the job experience. All day, though, Athos' skin crawled with the feeling that something was going to go wrong. The weather was warm in the late summer and they hadn't run into any burglars, bandits or thieves. There really wasn't anything to be concerned over. Though, of course, Athos found that was usually when something went wrong.
"It will be over soon," Porthos assured Athos, seeming to understand that he was uneasy.
Porthos was not usually one to be so perceptive of others' emotions, usually leaving that up to Aramis. But where Aramis was good with reading people, Porthos was their strong foundation. The ground would be far shakier if it wasn't for Porthos keeping them steady. In reality, Athos knew that each of his brothers brought something to the group. The four of them made an unbeatable team, as long as they remained together. It was when they separated that they fell apart at the seams.
Porthos placed his hand on Athos' shoulder for a moment before turning to look over the crowd. They were standing next to a lake the priests were blessing so they could perform the ceremony. He wouldn't tell Athos that he was feeling the same kind of feelings as he was. Admitting that he was just as nervous something was going to go wrong wouldn't help anyone. While Porthos was more than happy to support his friend, he still moved a little bit closer to Athos. It would make him feel better if they all stuck close to one another until this ceremony was over.
Athos, perceptive as he was, saw Porthos shift slightly closer. He knew his friend felt the same unease, but also knew that nothing was likely to come of their nervousness. Athos glanced at Aramis and d'Artagnan, satisfied to see them patrolling the other side of the lake. Aramis had a keen eye and ear for things most people would miss. Athos figured d'Artagnan could use a skill like that and the younger man seemed eager to learn. D'Artagnan had the potential to be the greatest Musketeer they'd seen in a long time and Athos didn't want to waste that.
Once the priests finished blessing the lake they invited the villagers to enter it. Men, women and children all piled into the water until it reached their shoulders and chests. Each of the villagers wore their Sunday best except one woman. She wore rags for clothes, her hair was a mess and she was being dragged along by a couple of elder villagers. When she entered the water everyone in the area pulled away. They began whispering to each other, glancing furtively at the woman. The display caused Athos' anxiety levels to increase. What was going on here?
"Something is wrong Porthos," Athos hissed under his breath. The moment the woman entered the lake a certain malice clouded the air that shouldn't be there. It made his skin crawl and his feet itch to grab his brothers and run for the trees. This was supposed to be a blessed day and it felt like there was a dark cloud hovering beyond the horizon. "This is too easy. Don't you feel it?"
Porthos didn't respond. Instead, he moved a little closer to the water's edge, his eyes narrowed as he watched the ragged woman.
The baptism began then, distracting Athos from his worries and forcing him to focus on the task at hand. With these many people in one area, there was always a need for extra security. He could do that at the very least. The priests were orderly with the ceremony, calling forth each person and baptizing them. They started with the children, wanting to get them out of the water faster.
As the ceremony continued without any hitches or delays Athos' worries settled. Maybe he was overreacting a little bit earlier, he thought. Aramis had waded into the water a couple of feet, d'Artagnan close behind him. Both he and Porthos preferred to have dry feet and stood next to each other at the edge of the water. Seeing his younger brothers eager to listen to the sermon eased something in Athos' mind. While he wasn't sure what he believed in, knowing his brothers believed in some greater being was enough for him. If they were enjoying themselves he may as well relax and so he let the rest of his worries flutter away. Athos eased his stance and pulled his hand from the pommel of his sword, with an indulgent yet rare smile. Of course, the moment he let go of his anxieties is exactly when all hell broke loose.
As Porthos would come to describe later, there was an odd buzzing sound that filled the area. It started out low. A sound like a stray bee buzzing about that exploded into an all-encompassing drone. Several people gasped as the pressure of the air seemed to increase. He looked over and saw Aramis holding his ears, wincing while d'Artagnan attempted to console him. Porthos felt bad for his friend. Aramis had impeccable hearing and this had to be bothering him more than anyone.
Just as quickly as the buzzing began, it ended with a popping sound. It felt like the world was suddenly hyper-focused on a single point in the lake. All eyes turned to the ragged woman from earlier as she was dragged forth to receive her blessing. Porthos could tell that she didn't want to be here from the way she struggled against the men holding her. As the woman was pulled towards the priests she started chanting in a strange language. Porthos saw d'Artagnan grab for Aramis' arm as he attempted to go and help the woman. Of course, his friend would want to help her, it was in his nature. For as much as Aramis could be a formidable soldier, the man had a huge, caring heart. The head over heart lesson Athos was trying to instil in d'Artagnan was something Aramis often forgot. Or chose to ignore. Either way, Porthos knew Athos was going need to speak to Aramis, yet again, about it.
"What is she saying?" Porthos whispered.
Athos shook his head. He didn't know. The villagers began backing away, whispering furiously amongst one another. One word, in particular, sent a chill through Athos' veins. The villagers were beginning to chant "witch" over and over.
"Are they saying what I think they are saying?" Athos asked Porthos.
The woman screamed. "You will not bless me, I will not be part of this! Unhand me you fools!"
The water surrounding her began to churn and swirl, knocking people off their feet. The current the witch was creating pushed people away from her and sucked some under the surface. Villagers began screaming and thrashing about in the water.
"Everyone out of the water!" Porthos shouted at the same time as d'Artagnan yelled.
"Stop her!"
Athos shared a frightened look with Porthos before they rushed to pull people out of the lake.
"Aramis! D'Artagnan!" Athos shouted. "Get the priests out of the lake!"
To Athos, time slowed down and everything moved in slow motion. The crowd raced towards him as he and Porthos waded their way into the water. Athos saw d'Artagnan and Aramis crash farther into the lake, pulling the priests away from the woman. He grabbed a small girl and twisted to toss her to her father at the water's edge. Porthos raced back to dry land with an elderly lady cradled in his arms.
Seeing everyone fleeing from her, the woman began to struggle even more violently. "No one is going to leave this place alive!"
"Let her go and get out of here!" Aramis shouted to the men holding her. He turned to the witch and waded closer to her until the water was lapping at his chest. He was still a considerable distance from her, though. "Please let everyone out of this lake, I beg of you, don't do this. They just wanted a blessing, you can't condemn everyone here for that."
"I can't condemn them? When they call me a witch?" She squawked. "After trying to force me to be baptized? I didn't ask for this."
Aramis had no answer for her, all he wanted was to prevent people from dying today. "You know these people, how can you murder them? They are your family. There are children here," Aramis pleaded. "They are innocent."
"Oh you naive boy, you think they are innocent? Do you think that makes any difference? Do you think I have been treated like family? Not one single person here is innocent and if you won't let me drown them, maybe I will burn them to the ground."
"Please, I beg of you, don't do this," Aramis begged. "Let them go, you can have me. I will help you get out of here, I promise. You only have to let them all live."
The woman stopped chanting and looked at him, wide-eyed in shock. An eerie calm settled around the area as the lake water stopped churning. The remaining villagers used the distraction to run for the shelter of their homes. "You would sacrifice yourself to save this village of heathens?"
"Without hesitation." Aramis could hear Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan shouting for him to get out of the water and get away from her. He was glad they weren't close enough to him to hear him bargain for their lives, they would never forgive him.
"You are a fool then," she responded. "I accept your terms, they can live, but I don't care about surviving this."
She began chanting again, this time in a quieter voice that Aramis struggled to hear. The water swirled around him creating a small whirlpool that he couldn't break free from. He could feel the water tugging at his doublet, trying to pull him down. Aramis struggled, trying to get out of the raging water and get to d'Artagnan who was behind him. He shouted a moment later as he lost his footing on the bottom of the lake. Normally, a good swimmer, this wouldn't have fazed him at all, but the water's current pulled him straight under. He had but a moment to register what was happening before he broke the surface right in front of her. He was in deep enough that he could barely touch the bottom of the lake. She never gave him a chance to draw a breath before her hands wrapped around his neck.
"You offer them a kindness knowing they would never return it... it's admirable but naive. You, trusting me, to not kill you and then level this place to the ground is idiotic. You don't know what I am capable of."
Aramis tried to respond but her hands tightened around his neck cutting off his next breath. He struggled feebly as she pulled him in close and whispered in his ear.
"You are childlike in your faith of others, it will be your downfall. Let's see you experience something you didn't ask for, hmm?"
Searing pain raced through Aramis' neck as she choked him. The lack of oxygen made his thoughts sluggish. The words she was whispering created a tingling in his limbs and forced him to lock gazes with her. Aramis could see her eyes beginning to glow and the words she was chanting began to make perfect sense. What she was doing… what she was about to do to him… Terrified him. He thought he could hear voices shout for him to stop staring at her, but her eyes were just so mesmerizing. The glowing was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. It was like she was speaking in his head now, whispering the most enticing of things.
Vaguely, he felt someone grab his shoulders, trying to pull him away and it snapped him out of the daze he was in. "Please, don't do this." He managed to choke out. It was barely a whisper, but he knew she heard it from the smile on her face. The world was beginning to go grey at the edges of his vision.
"I see you understand now," she laughed. "It's too late, though, the spell is already taking hold."
D'Artagnan was scared, though he'd never admit it to anyone. He knew magic existed in this world, but it was so rare that it was more of a legend than anything. Where would a mere farm boy meet anyone that could use magic? He had little experience dealing with magic users and didn't think they could be so formidable. Actually, who was he joking, he had never laid eyes on anyone that could use magic. Knowing this woman was a witch and seeing her ensnare Aramis so fast terrified him. All d'Artagnan knew was that he had to rescue his brother before something bad happened.
D'Artagnan growled and wrapped his arm around Aramis' chest, pulling as hard as he could. He was relieved as she broke eye contact with his friend and focused on him. At the very least if he could distract her long enough, they might get out of this alive. He just wished that Aramis was more coherent to be able to help in his own escape.
Her eyes darkened and her hold on Aramis' neck intensified. "If you don't let go, you will fall just as he will."
"I won't leave him alone to her madness," d'Artagnan responded. He pulled on Aramis' shoulders again, determined to release him from the woman's clutches. "Let him go now, before the others reach you and stop you."
"You both are so noble, but like I told your friend a moment ago, it's too late. The spell has already taken hold, look how his eyes glow. The brother you know isn't going to be himself much longer." She laughed and began chanting again.
A bright light began shining from her chest and d'Artagnan decided that he'd had enough of this of this woman. Magic or no magic, no one messed with his brothers. He took a moment to look at his friend, Aramis' face was crimson, eyes wide and panicked by the lack of air. D'Artagnan gripped her wrist and began pulling, trying to dislodge it from his friend's throat.
The instant the boy grabbed her wrist, she'd felt the change in the spell. The boy was still holding her prey and by touching both of them he'd created a connection she hadn't expected. A circle of energy if you will. It was hard enough on her strength to maintain this spell, but add another person and it began to grow out of control. It gained a mind of its own and there was nothing she could do but try and break the circle. She let go of her prey's neck, eyes widening in shock. She'd hoped that when she let go it would end, but she realized that there was no way to stop this. The spell began pulsating from her chest, growing in intensity and brightness. She'd waited too long and she needed to get out of here before she was vaporized by her own magic. At least, she thought, the two men before her would suffer something and this spell wasn't for nothing.
D'Artagnan felt like he was floating as the magic flowed through him from Aramis. Deep down he knew he shouldn't have touched her wrist, that nothing good was going to come of it. He felt the change in the air as the witch lost control of the spell and released Aramis. His friend fell back into his arms, unresponsive but taking big gasping breaths of air. The witch vanished as the spell burst forward from her chest, bathing the area in a bright white light. D'Artagnan only had time to wonder if she'd destroyed herself before he noticed the lake was still a swirling whirlpool of anger. He barely had a moment to make sure he had a tight hold on Aramis before they were both sucked underwater by the current.
