"Execute her!"
"Kill the witch!"
"Hang the demoness at once!"
Amongst the jeering crowd standing before the gallows stood Philip and Caleb Wittebane, watching on with curiosity. Even before their parents' death, the brothers had been inseparable. In a world indifferent to their plight, Philip and Caleb had grown to depend entirely on one another, sharing everything- from their food, water, and shelter, to their grandest hopes and dreams. Their poverty did little to curb their ambitions for fame and fortune- for respect and renown. If anything, it only served to bolster their selflessness- their desire to protect others from experiencing the same hardship they'd endured ever since their parents' passing. Philip and Belos sought to be heroes- and there was no path more noble or heroic than that of a witch hunter.
It wouldn't be an easy life- the brothers knew that all too well. It was said that witches were powerful and sadistic- manipulative and merciless. They could be anywhere, posing as ordinary people, ready to prey on the innocent and the unsuspecting. They twisted the hearts and minds of those around them until all that remained were brainwashed sycophants. And most frighteningly, they supposedly drew their power from perverse deals with malevolent beings- demons- whose power transcended the human realm itself. And yet even with all the dangers the life of a witch hunter would entail, Philip and Caleb wanted nothing more than to embark on that path together- to protect one another from the evils of a cruel and indifferent world. On the day the brothers had lost their parents, they made a promise the pair would never forget- a promise that would go on to define their destinies for centuries to come. No matter what happened- no matter what it took- they would do anything to save humanity from evil.
Yet despite their ambitions, this was the first time Philip and Caleb had ever witnessed a so-called witch in the flesh. Escorted up the stairs of the gallows by a guard was a woman who would have looked ordinary, if not for her extravagant orange hair. Her skin was pale, her yellowish eyes tired- and heavy iron bindings weighed down her wrists. A flurry of insults was hurled from the crowd as the witch reached the top of the platform. But through it all, a certain unease had begun to well up in Caleb's chest- a feeling he'd quickly confess to his beloved brother.
"Is that really... a witch?" said Caleb, turning to Philip with a concerned look. "She looks weirdly... normal."
Philip shook his head.
"You know how devious these witches can be. Their disguises are convincing- but look closer, brother. Look at its ears!"
Turning back to face the woman, it was immediately clear what his brother had meant. Her ears, though they looked normal from a cursory glance, were on closer examination pointed to an unsettling and unnatural degree.
"That thing might look human..." began Philip, "But often the vilest of creatures hide themselves in plain sight."
The jeering of the crowd grew louder as the noose was fastened around her neck. But the crowd soon grew hushed at the sound of the guard's voice.
"The accused will now be permitted to speak their peace. But this woman has been found guilty of witchcraft, and denial of that fact will be met with swift and brutal retribution."
In spite of her position, the woman wore a proud smile, and there was a sinister glint in her eyes.
"Denial? Why would I deny it? I am a witch- and I'm not ashamed of it. It's you all who ought to feel ashamed!"
The audience erupted into an uproar, before once again being hushed by the guard.
"Insult me all you want," said the witch, "...but I'm not the one condemning an innocent woman to death. Yes, I'm a witch- so what? What have I done to hurt you? What have I done to hurt anyone?!"
Immediately, the crowd became a raucous concoction of furious vitriol- one even the guard couldn't control. Eventually, the many disparate insults had dissolved into a single phrase, chanted by the mob with overpowering ferocity.
"Kill the witch!"
"Kill the witch!"
"Kill the witch!"
Of the many people in the crowd, only two were silent- Philip, who watched the scene with a calm, cold detachment, and Caleb, for whom the witch's words had somehow stuck a chord. With the noose fastened, the chanting intensified as the accused was led to the edge of the platform- led towards her certain end. Philip watched with a morbid fascination. Caleb watched with an unexplainable dread. And then, the inexplicable happened. The gallows erupted into flame.
An enormous ball of fire grew to engulf the platform, throwing the guard backwards into the ground and knocking him unconscious. Thick smoke rose from the smouldering remnants of the wooden platform. The witch was nowhere to be seen. The crowd turned panicked, vacating the area as fast as they physically could- but through the stampede, Philip and Caleb stood their ground, clutching each other's hand for support.
"Cover your face!" cried Philip, lifting the top of his shirt to shield his mouth and nose from the smoke. Caleb nodded and did the same, before drawing a jagged knife from his belt.
"She's getting away!" yelled Caleb amidst the cacophony of the crowd.
But Philip's eyes were already locked onto something most peculiar- what looked to be a strange purple flame peeking out from the thick wall of smoke. Without a word and with his brother in tow, Philip rushed towards the mysterious glow, a relentless determination in his eyes. It didn't matter that they were alone. It didn't matter how fearsome these monsters were. All that mattered was ensuring the witch was brought to justice. And as long as they were together, Philip and Caleb knew they could do just that.
As long as they were together, they knew they could accomplish anything.
