Disclaimer: Not mine
Part Five
Lied. They had been lied to. The King and Queen had talked to them for about fifteen minuets, mainly about the weather which was annoying but made sense considering that they were air-headed royal folk. As it turned out they were not as air headed as they seemed, for all the while knights had been putting on there armor (why?) and coming up the stairs. They seised the witch and the magician and thrown them in the dungeon, where they were now.
Morwen wondered how she could have ever fallen for such a trick. She was a witch, she should have known. She told this to Telemain. "Morwen, y dear, you have never had patients with the art of divination. Nor have I, for that matter. But that all does not matter now. At least they don't have Kazul. Perhaps she can help use somehow."
"Yes, perhaps," Morwen repeated, though she really didn't see how Kazul, being the size that she was, could help them at all.
"And remember, Morwen, the didn't get your cats." Morwen smiled.
"Yes, you are right about that! Jasper and Scorn will know to do something, and Fiddlesticks will listen to them, won't he? Yes, perhaps this isn't so horrible," Morwen thought.
Just then Morwen heard the door open from what seemed like miles away. A small flicked of light came into her vision, but disappeared quickly. Morwen tried to step forward as to see what was going on, but her chains restrained her.
Eight figures stood before her. One was an older man, the next six were all princesses, and the last was a young servent....no, she was warring a crown. A princess. Yet the young girl of about six looked like to princess Morwen had ever seen before.
"This is a witch," the man said pointed at Morwen. "A very improper witch, I might add. She is too short, her hair and eyes are the wrong color and she is much too young."
"I should say not," Morwen complained. "You see, each witch must enchant herself sometime, most wait till they reach twenty....but sixteen is not unheard of. And as for my physical looks they are of no matter!" The teacher and the six proper princesses looked shocked. The last, however, looked extremely amused. Almost pleased.
"This is a magician," the instructor said as he resumed the lesson and pointed at Telemain. "These two practice magic and do very bad things..."
"Like whats?" the smallest one asked.
"Err....."
"Have you evers seen thems do bads things?"
"Well, you see....."
"If you've nevers seen thems do anythings wrong then what's the points of putting thems heres anyway? This spaces could go to much betters uses," she said with remarkable intelligence for someone her age. The princess closest to her looked stunned. She grabbed the girls arm.
"How dare you be so defiant! It's improper!" she screamed.
"It's improper to grab the arm of a princess!" the little yelled back. The princess let go of her arms and erupted in tears. She quickly ran from the dudgeon. The others followed her. The youngest princess made no move to leave, but was quickly pushed away by her instructor leaving Morwen and Telemain alone.
"That was intrusting," Morwen said.
"Very. And to think these are the people that run the country we live in," Telemain commented.
"It almost makes one want to leave and go live in a place like...like the enchanted forest!" Morwen commented.
"The Enchanted Forest? That does not sound like such a horrible place to live. In fact it would be rather intrusting. To study the delicate weaving of a land made entirely of magic and the effect sperate self created webs has on the whole, if it has any at all, and their type of effect and how to reverse it and if the central raise of power..."
"You're losing your touch, Telemain, I understood that," Morwen teased. Telemain looked at bit red.
"What can I say, Morwen? You have always been in possession of that talent. I do say, may parents would have gone made without you around. Morwen smiled thoughtfully.
"Yes, you were always an overcomplicated handful," Morwen said. She remembered growing up with Telemain. He was the only person her age for miles, living in a small house in a wood near her parents farm. Morwen's own parents were as normal as can be and it was through Telemian and his long line of magicians that she was first introduced to magic.
Magic. It had become the only thing in her life she could truly count on. People die, and people hate. Morwen knew that all too well, She remembered only a few years ago when she had been eleven. Her father, the only person who had truly approved of her interest in magic, died while trying to catch a cattle that had wandered away from the farm after being scared by a bee. It was perhaps because of that incident that Morwen waited till she was fifteen to start her studies as a witch. Telemain's mother had offered to apprentice her after her father had died, but Morwen refused several times.
However, when she was fifteen she did except. It was then that Morwen learned the meaning of hate. After that moment, her mother and new step father proclaimed, Morwen, or Morgan Wendy Afterson as she had been named, was no longer their daughter. Morwen still stuttered at their harsh words. Most of all, she shuttered at hearing her own full name, for in her youth no one had ever called her Morgan Wendy. It was always a combination: Morwen.
The hours slowly pasted and Morwen's thoughts stayed in her memory. She had never expected her life to be like this when she was young. When she was three, before she had met Telemain, she had thought magic was a bunch of nonsense. And Morwen had very low tolerance for nonsense even then. She had collected firewood, cleaned the dished and done all her other chores knowing that someday that would be what her life would become. She would grow up, get married to whom ever her father chose, and have as many kids as she could to ensure that her blood line would survuive. She knew that was what awaited her, and her three sisters, and her four brothers, though their fate would be a bit different.
Indeed, for one of her brothers it was very different. Her smallest brother who was closest to her in age died when she was five. His name was Robert Timothy, but everyone called him Robin. That was when Morwen learned the meaning of loss. As the now sixteen year old witch stood in the darkness a sudden thought occured to her, what if it was her own life to be lost now?
The door opened agien, but Morwen could see now light come from it. It must have been night. Morwen was aware that she was hungry, but she was more curious as to what they were going to do to her next.
The person who entered, however, was not a goverment official of any kind. It was the youngest princess. She was waring her nightdress, her black hair tied into two braids which hung over her shoulders. In the youth's black eyes was a hint of happiness and of mischief.
The girl took keyd out of her pocket and opened the door so that she could enter Morwen's cell. "I'm going to let you out," she proclaimed, positively beaming. "But don't tell my dad. Surely this isn't proper."
"Indeed," Telemain said, "and why are you letting us out?"
The girl shrugged. "Because it makes nos sense for yous to be here. So maybe it would make mores sense if I lets you out. It seems like a goods ideas to me. But if you don't thinks so..."
"No! It's a wonderful idea!" Morwen proclaimed. The girl smiled, though it looked rather rehearsed. It took a moment for Morwen to realise why. All princesses did all day at that age was learn how to smile. The princess set a small candle down next to her feet and reached up to the chains binding Morwne's arms while standing on the tips of her tows. Slowly, she placed a ke into the key ring and opened the cuff of the chain....
Morwan lowered her, relieved that the preseure had been taken off of it. She hadn't realized how much it acked. The girl set Morwen's other hand free, and then released Telemain. "Yous should go," she said, "before daddy sees." With that she grabbed her candle and headed off. Morwen and Telemain followed her silently, though while she headed for her room, they headed for Kazul.
"Telemain, what spell are we doing? And how long will it take?" Morwen asked as soon as Kazul was fully awake.
"Just a simple locating spell. If we have to proper supplied it shouldn't take be then a few minuets...."
"At most?"
"A few hours." Morwen pondered his words.
"We have a few hours. Tell me what you need, Telemain. I want to do this as quickly as possible. We only have one chance."
to be continued.....
A/n2: By the way. I'm getting one of my poems published! Here it is:
Inside
The story told
The tale of the young and old
Through the eyes of the aspire
Ever shifting as the fire
But is it something you can see?
Between the lives of you and me?
Or is it to conquer what many have tried
The battle ground, worlds of the inside
Isn't it great! Well, I know it's not that great, but I love it! Anyway, if you write poetry you can a poem that's less then 20 lines into their monthly contest and win prizes or get published. Just thought you should know. Farewell!