I'm back everyone! I'm glad to see that I'm already getting some bites for this fic! Now, let's hop right to it, shall we?
I do not own 'The Owl House'.
Chapter 2
Through the Door
The sound of heavy rainfall beat against the roof as Philip stirred the broth boiling in the cauldron over the fireplace. The fireplace and the candles on the table illuminated Philip's small house, aided by the occasional flash of lightning.
Philip sighed as he stirred the broth. His worry for his brother continued to weigh on him. Caleb had a soft heart, and Philip loved him for it. But his compassion for accused witches was getting out of hand. It was only a matter of time before General Belos found a good reason to turn Caleb in and have him killed for aiding and protecting witches.
But Caleb didn't even believe in witches. To him, the Witch Hunters were simply either fools justifying murder or monsters gaining glory from it. And as insulted as Philip felt by Caleb's lack of belief in the cause he had dedicated his life to, it might be enough to persuade General Belos that Caleb's only crime was ignorance.
Philip shook his head and grunted in disgust. 'The nerve of him to tell me my work is pointless.' he thought to himself. 'Everything I do, I do to protect mankind from evil, as well as protect you from your own naivety, brother.'
The door to Philip's house slammed open and closed.
Philip spun around and reached for his pistol, but froze when he saw Caleb pressing his back against the door. The man looked terrified. Drenched in rainwater, Caleb's eyes were wide with fright as he took heavy breaths to steady himself.
"Caleb?" Philip grabbed a nearby blanket before making his way to his brother. "By God, what's happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Worse," Caleb said as he let Philip cover him with the blanket. "I saw a witch."
Philip's concerned gaze suddenly became suspicious. "Caleb, if you're just attempting to be an ass, I do not appreciate-"
"I'm serious, Philip!" Caleb walked past his brother and began pacing back and forth frantically. "It was a witch! A true witch! She was like nothing I'd ever seen before! She performed magic and manipulated fire right before my eyes! She had a carving of a bird that came to life!"
"Caleb, calm yourself." Philip went over and searched his cupboards. He found the bottle of cider he was looking for and offered it to Caleb. "Here, this'll help."
Caleb took the bottle and downed the whole thing. He didn't stop for breath until the bottle was empty. "Thank you."
Philip stared at the now empty bottle. "...Okay then." he helped Caleb to take a seat at the table and sat down with him. "Let's start from the beginning."
Lightning flashed and thunder shook the skies. Caleb ran a hand through his hair. "I was at the church with the Reverend, reading the Bible in the candlelight. We saw that the storm was about to start, so I decided to head home."
"Was someone waiting for you at your house?" Philip asked. "I locked the place up as you asked."
"I never made it home. The rain started to come down hard, so I decided to sleep under the Miller barn for the night. My plan was to just nap under the awning until the rain stopped."
"What caused you to run into the ran instead? All the way to my house?" Philip asked.
"I saw that Miller's barn door was unlocked, so I decided to see if a thief had broken in, just to do Mr. Miller a kindness. I drew my pistol and I went inside, expecting to find a thief hiding in the barn."
"And you're telling me you found a witch inside Miller's barn?" Philip asked. "Caleb, you don't even believe in witches."
"This wasn't some scared girl who walked by a fireplace at the wrong time and upset the wrong person," Caleb replied. "This woman, she was something else."
"A woman?" Philip asked. "What did she look like?"
"She had wild, rust-red hair that looked like a bushy red fern growing out of her head," said Caleb. "Her skin was really pale, and her lips were black as ink. And her ears. My God, the size of those things. Long and pointy like a g…Well, I don't really want to compare her to a goat, she was actually quite lovely to look at. But you get the idea. And her eyes, they were a mesmerizing red-purple color, like the color of expensive grape wine, nothing natural. She wore a purple dress and a black cloak. It honestly went well with her colors."
"Caleb," Philip said a little impatiently. "You said she performed magic?"
"Oh, yeah! Yeah! She traced a circle in the air, and a golden circle of light appeared where she traced! The green fire–green, mind you–she was tending turned the color of normal fire, and she cooked a trout over it."
"She was cooking?" Philip asked.
"Yeah, it smelled really good too. Anyway, she also had a magic staff with her. At the top of the staff, sat a carving of a red-headed woodpecker that came to life when she called to it! It was incredible. Woodrow, I think she called it. Good name for a woodpecker."
Philip drummed his fingers on the table as he looked into his brother's eyes, dubiously searching his gaze for any hidden intention.
"...You don't believe me, do you?"
"I don't believe you would lie to me," said Philip. "But even so, Caleb, you must admit that your tale is a difficult one to believe. The part about a woodpecker named Woodrow? Told by you, the man who names the birds he feeds and talks to?"
"I can hardly believe it myself. But, Philip, everything I told you is the truth. You must believe me!" Caleb begged.
Philip sighed and ran his hand down his face. "Tell you what. I'll tell General Belos about it tomorrow and get a hunt started. Have a few of us Witch Hunters take a look around. This might actually be a good thing. Telling the General about a witch you claimed to have seen might be just what you need to get the Witch Hunters off your back."
"A witch hunt?" Caleb asked. "Philip, she didn't really do anything wrong, aside from breaking into a barn and cooking a trout."
"It hardly matters," said Philip. "And besides, if this witch lit a fire in Miller's barn, she's probably the one who lit a fire in Allingham's barn and set it aflame."
"Well…yeah, maybe. But-"
"Caleb, don't worry. The other Witch Hunters and I will look around and see what we can find. If we find a witch like the one you described, then perfect. People will finally have a reason to stop thinking of you as a witch lover when they hear that you helped bring a witch in."
"But-"
"Just let me handle this, big brother. I know what I'm doing." Philip smiled. "Would you like to stay here for the night? You know you're always welcome in my house."
"Thank you, Philip. I'd rather not go back out in the rain." Caleb frowned. "Philip…you're not going to hurt her, are you?"
"You know how we operate, Caleb," said Philip.
Caleb nodded gravely. "Yeah…that's what has me worried."
(The very next day)
"Alright. This goes here. That goes there." Caleb took the tiny tools out of the bottle and picked up the tiny paintbrush. Very carefully, he put the brush through the opening of the bottle and touched up the paint job on the miniature ship inside of the bottle.
"Beautiful." Caleb grinned as he pulled the brush back out and lifted the ship in a bottle up for examination. There were only a few more things to do before it was complete, and it already looked impressive. The miniature ship inside of the bottle was a barque bearing clean white sails and a brown hull with gold trim. The figurehead of the barque was a golden figure of a greek warrior clad in armor, wielding a spear. The Corinthian helmet the warrior wore was of Caleb's own custom design. The golden face cover was slightly heart-shaped, with a narrow visor like a pair of eyebrows.
Caleb smiled at the helmet's face cover, smiling in reminiscence.
"Things used to be simpler," he muttered. "...For us, anyway."
Caleb frowned and put the bottled ship down as he recalled the events of last night. Just thinking about it made his heartbeat quicken. Caleb saw a witch. A real witch, who commanded fire and brought carvings to life. It was certainly enough to prove that Caleb had been wrong about witches not existing.
And at the same time, it proved that every single witch that the Witch Hunters had brought in and executed had indeed been innocent, just as Caleb had believed. None of those accused 'witches' had long, pointy ears, or hair like a lion's mane, or magenta eyes the color of a rich man's wine, or pale skin and inky lips,
No…none of them had looked like that.
Caleb shook his head like he was trying to dislodge something. He rubbed his temples and tried to forget about the witch he had seen.
"I'm going to go talk to the birds because I have no friends," Caleb said as he stood up from the table and made his way out of the house, but not before grabbing a bottle of cider.
The birds were happily pecking away at the pinecones as Caleb sat on the porch and drank his apple cider. The cardinal Caleb had named Flapjack flew down and landed on his shoulder.
"Hello, friend." Caleb reached into his pocket and took out some seeds to feed to the hungry cardinal. "You wouldn't believe the night I had."
Flapjack chirped and pecked at the seeds in Caleb's hand.
"I saw a witch," Caleb said. "She was a real-life witch, with magic and everything. It brings up so many questions. Who is she? Where did she come from? Is she evil, do you think? She didn't seem evil. She looked…" Caleb blushed. "...Amazing…She looked…like something out of a myth. But do you think she was evil?"
The bird just chirped.
Caleb chuckled. "Yeah, you're right. That woman is long gone by now. I'm never gonna see her again."
"Caleb!"
Flapjack flew away and Caleb rose to his feet. Two horses galloped up to Caleb's house. One of the riders was Philip, and the other one was General Belos.
Caleb blinked in confusion as Philip and Belos dismounted and walked up to his front porch. "What's going on?"
"Caleb…we got her," Philip said. Caleb had never seen his brother look so rattled before.
"Got her?" Caleb asked. "Got who?"
"The witch you reported last night," said General Belos. "I have to admit, Caleb, when your brother told me about how you, of all people, reported a witch who could command fire and bring wooden carvings to life, I was indeed doubtful."
"Wait, what?" Caleb asked. "You…you actually have her?"
"Indeed. And I must say, my faith in you is now not so diminutive," said General Belos. "You're finally contributing to the Witch Hunters, just as you were meant to."
"That woman could control fire and she flipped me over a crate with a magical flick of her finger. How in God's name did you catch her?" Caleb asked.
"Well, to be perfectly honest, we just got lucky," said Philip. "The witch was first spotted in the woods near the river. We chased her around for a while, but she was clearly just toying us, making it into a game of cat and mouse."
"There's a possibility that Thomas and Ryan switched bodies for a few minutes." General Belos rubbed his head. "Chasing that witch was a…peculiar experience. I think my hands might've been snakes for a moment."
"If she was such a trickster, then how did you catch her?" said Caleb.
"You know Lawrence?" Philip asked.
"The trapper, yeah."
"Well, as fortune would have it, he left a few of his bear traps out in the woods and forgot about them. The witch, after burying Adam up to his neck in the ground, ran away down to the riverside. She stepped on one of the traps and that's how we got her. General Belos came up and knocked her in the head with his rifle before she could recover and escape."
Caleb cringed. "Sounds like she got hurt pretty bad," he said. "Has the doctor seen to her yet?"
"Of course not," said General Belos. "Have you seen those ears? She's clearly not human."
"What?" Caleb asked in concern.
"Would you like to see her?" General Belos asked. "The Constable has the creature locked up in the jailhouse. We need you to come over and confirm she's the one you saw in Miller's barn."
"Yes, take me there right now," Caleb demanded.
"Very well, then. Hop on the horse with Philip and let's go."
Philip remounted his horse and Caleb followed him, sitting behind his brother. General Belos got back on his own horse and they all rode to the jailhouse.
"I had the Constable place the witch in one of the private cells." General Belos explained as he led Philip and Caleb through the jailhouse. "Those cells are reserved for the more dangerous criminals. I believe she qualifies."
"Is the jail's doctor here?" Caleb asked.
"This again? Yes, the doctor is here," said Belos. "But he won't even go near the witch. And who can blame him? Honestly, Caleb, I know you like to defend people accused of witchcraft, but this is a true witch. There's no need to show any worry towards some creature that's not even human."
"But-"
"Hush now, Caleb." Philip cautioned. "This is serious. We have a true sorcerous in our custody. No quarter can be given. She's dangerous. A demoness sent from Hell."
"She was just cooking a trout over a fire, that's hardly evil," said Caleb.
"Enough, Caleb," said Philip. "We're here now."
The three of them walked up to a steel door built into the stone interior of the jailhouse. General Belos knocked his fist on the door and the door's visor slid open, revealing a pair of eyes.
"We're here to see the witch."
The visor slid back shut and the door opened for them. General Belos, Philip, and Caleb walked into the private cell room. It was the Constable that had opened the door. The big, heavily built, balding man shot Caleb a dirty look before closing the door.
In the stone room, Caleb recognized the town Reverend and the mayor of Gravesfeild. The mayor was a small and thin man wearing fine clothing, with a big black mustache and smooth black hair. The doctor was there too. Strong in tradition, Doctor Fowl wore the long black outfit of English physicians and healers, complete with the black hat and bird-like mask. It was like he was prepared to handle the plague.
Several of Belo's Witch Hunters had their muskets aimed at the cell in the back of the room. Behind the iron bars of the cell, sitting on a pile of hay, was the witch Caleb met in the Miller barn.
Caleb's eyes widened with dismay at the sight of the poor witch. She had been gagged with old cloth and bound with chains. Iron cuffs fitted over the entirety of both of her hands kept her restrained as did the shackles around her ankles. She had a black eye and stared daggers at all the men in the room. Her right calf was bleeding onto the hay from an injury the shape of the beartrap's teeth.
"Oh my God," Caleb whispered. '...I did this to her.'
The witch's gaze suddenly focused on Caleb, her eyes shining with recognition. Everyone followed her gaze and turned to face Caleb.
"Is she the one?" General Belos asked.
Caleb nodded. "Yeah, it's her alright."
"By God, look at those ears." The Mayor remarked. "Like a goat's ears. Probably the result of a demon's fornication with a goat. Horrid creature."
The witch narrowed her eyes at the Mayor, who shuffled back a little as if pressed by her glare.
"She's bleeding to death," said Caleb. "Doctor, you must clean and bandage her wound."
"I'm not going near that thing." Doctor Fowl said stubbornly. "Who knows what she'll do to me."
"Oh, for the love of–give me that!" Caleb walked up and snatched the doctor's medical bag out of his hand. "I'll do it myself."
"Caleb." Philip came up and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Don't be foolish. Just leave her be." Quietly, Philip added, "Don't blow your only chance to show everyone that you can be trusted."
Caleb jerked his shoulder away from Philip's hand and made his way to the cell. The Constable came up and took a stand in front of the cell door.
"Open the cell and let me in," said Caleb.
"Let the witch bleed," the Constable said with his deep, gravelly voice.
"He's right, Mr. Wittebane," said Mayor Thatch. "You should not risk getting so close to her."
"And you should not be showing such compassion to an agent of the Devil," said General Belos. "Are you truly so willing to help this creature?"
"Christ teaches us to show mercy and kindness to all who walk the Earth," said Reverend O'Neil. "God loved and forgave Lucifer even after he was cast out of Heaven and became Satan."
General Belos stared the Reverend down and grunted in irritation. Not wanting to argue with a Holy Man of the Church in front of everyone, he nodded to the Constable to let Caleb through.
"I knew this wouldn't change anything," the Constable grumbled to Caleb. "You're still a witch-loving fool, who's no more a man than the hens who laid my breakfast."
"You heard your master," said Caleb. "Unlock the cell and get out of my way."
Constable Cyrus growled like an angry bulldog before he turned around and used his key to unlock the cell. He then lumbered out of the way and crossed his arms, examining Caleb with a hateful look.
Ignoring The Constable, Caleb entered the cell. The witch's reaction was that of part curiosity, and part worry. She flinched away as Caleb came closer.
"Easy now, easy." Caleb stopped a few feet away from her, respectfully keeping a bit of distance before attempting to get closer. "Listen, I know you might not like me or have any reason to, but your leg is looking bad. Please let me patch it up for you. Otherwise, it's just going to get worse."
The witch just stared at Caleb. Her grape-wine eyes stared unblinking at him.
"May I come closer and dress your wound?" Caleb asked. "Please?"
After a few heartbeats, the witch nodded. Caleb smiled as he came up and knelt down to begin.
"My name is Caleb." he greeted. "It's nice to meet you...again."
The witch just stared.
"Now let's see here. I'm no doctor, but I know enough to help you avoid having to amputate the limb." Caleb opened the medical bag. "Thankfully, the wound doesn't look too deep. Lawrence always did keep his equipment in poor condition."
Caleb took out a large rag and a bottle of disinfectant.
"This is going to hurt. I cannot make that any more clear." Caleb warned. "Are you ready?"
The witch nodded.
Caleb soaked the bottle with the disinfectant and began cleaning the wound. The cry of pain that came out of the witch's gagged mouth was not as horrible as Caleb anticipated it to be. She was made of tough stuff.
"This really should have been attended to as soon as you got here," Caleb said as he finished cleaning the wound. He tossed the bloody rag aside and pulled a roll of cloth out of the bag. "Keep your leg still, please."
The witch did as Caleb asked as he slowly and carefully wrapped the bandage cloth over her leg. Once the wound was properly bandaged, Caleb cut the line and used a wad of adhesive to keep the bandage in place.
"There we go." Caleb happily declared. "How's that feel?"
The witch moved her leg slightly to test the now dressed injury. She looked into Caleb's eyes, silently displaying gratitude.
"I still think it was pointless to heal her," said General Belos. "After all, there's more pain to come, and it will stop once she's dead."
Still knelt down next to the witch, Caleb looked back at Belos. "Dead?"
"Of course, Caleb," said General Belos. "She a genuine witch. The safest thing to do is burn her at the stake."
"Well, now, hold on," said Caleb. "She didn't really do anything wrong. The fire at Allingham's barn wasn't necessarily her. There's no proof of that."
"Allingham's barn is of no concern to us at the moment." General Belos grabbed a brown sack from one of his men and held it open for Caleb to see. The sack was filled with a bunch of random belongings.
"This was on the witch's person when we captured her," Belos explained. "She's been stealing from the townspeople. Picking pockets and snatching trinkets like a common thief."
"Well then, chop off one of her hands if you really must punish her," said Caleb.
The witch bonked Caleb on the head with her handcuffs.
"OW!" Caleb cried. "Would you rather be burned alive?! Does that sound better?!"
"There's more." General Belos put the sack down and took out a piece of paper from his coat. "She had this letter with her."
"A letter?" Caleb asked as he rubbed his head and stood back up.
"Here. Read it for yourself." Belos offered.
Caleb came out of the cell and took the letter from General Belos. The Constable closed the cell door as Caleb began to read.
"Dear Margaret." Caleb looked over at the witch in the cell. "Is that you? Is your name Margaret?"
The witch gave no response.
"Dear Margaret. Please be safe on your journey. Humans are intelligent enough to speak and create, but they are often violent. Try to be careful, if not for yourself, then for your mother and I. Your mother is already worried sick and begging the local oracles to constantly give her updates on your return. Although I do not approve of your usage of the portal, I can hardly tame that adventurous and free spirit of yours. Please come home safely, that's all I ask. Love, your father."
Caleb blinked. "She…she has a family?"
"There's more of them, yes," said General Belos. "And the letter mentions a portal of some kind. Once we interrogate the witch and she tells us where this portal is, we'll be able to find out where the rest of her ilk are hiding. We'll then kill her, and then we'll go and find the others."
Caleb looked back at the witch. She stared back at Caleb with a look that didn't seem to suit her. She looked afraid, and her eyes silently pleaded for help.
"That seems a bit…excessive, doesn't it?" Caleb asked.
"Not at all." said General Belos. "Listen, Caleb. I know us Witch Hunters have been glaring at your direction for quite some time now, and for that, I apologize. This witch could be living proof that we have been wrong about witches after all. Imagine it, Caleb. Once we take care of this wretched thing and get the location of the portal, we'll begin hunting down her kind, instead of accusing and arresting witches among our own people. Your work will save hundreds."
Caleb's eyes widened. "...I…I need some air." Caleb left the cell room without another word.
General Belos looked at Philip. "Talk to him, won't you?"
Philip nodded before following after his brother.
Belos then walked over to the cell and peered at the witch, who glared back in defiance.
General Amadeus Belos smiled. "The greatest catch of my career."
Philip found Caleb leaning against a tree outside of the jailhouse, puffing on his pipe in an attempt to calm his nerves.
"Caleb," Philip walked over to his brother. "What is the matter? This marks the end of what you have despised and fought against during your entire career as an attorney. You should be rejoicing."
"It's not right," said Caleb. "Torturing and killing people isn't right."
"She's hardly a person, Caleb," said Philip.
"She feels pain and love, just like the rest of us," said Caleb. "And the plan is to torture and then kill her after she tells you where to find her family so you can kill them too?"
"You're thinking about this all wrong, brother," Philip argued. "This is a good thing."
"Philip…please just leave me be. I wish to be alone for a moment."
Philip sighed. "When will you be satisfied, Caleb? When will you be happy?"
"By the sound of things? Probably never." Caleb replied. "Now leave me be…Please."
Although clearly unhappy about it, Philip did as Caleb asked and walked away, leaving Caleb alone to smoke.
Caleb took a deep inhale of smoke and blew it out of his nose. "...I am leaving." he said to himself. "I am packing my things, I am going to New York to join the Navy, and I am leaving this mad town behind." Caleb let his eyes close. "...Forgive me, Philip. But I can tolerate this insanity no more."
Caleb heard a chirping up above.
He looked up and saw a red-headed woodpecker sitting up in the tree he was leaning against. Caleb recognized the bird. It was the woodpecker that was with the witch, the one that had come to life as a carving.
"It's you." said the surprised Caleb. "What did the witch call you? Woodrow?"
The bird flew down and landed on Caleb's shoulder, not appearing at all afraid of him. Woodrow, as Caleb guessed his name was, looked into Caleb's eyes with frantic desperation. The woodpecker cackled and flapped his wings.
Caleb sighed. "I know what you want. I'm sorry, but I can't help you."
The woodpecker cackled and flapped his wings again.
"What am I supposed to do?" Caleb asked. "As much as I would like to help her, your friend's fate is beyond my power."
The bird drooped on Caleb's shoulder, looking alone and helpless. The woodpecker looked up at Caleb with its sad, pathetic eyes.
Caleb's face softened with guilt. He looked up at the jailhouse where the witch was imprisoned.
Alone with the witch, Constable Cyrus sat in a wooden chair and dug through the bag of trinkets that she had stolen. He pulled out a red book and grimaced at it.
"Women learning to read." he looked at the witch on the other side of the cell bars. "Guess you really are a witch."
The witch gave the Constable an oblique look.
"Witch or not, a woman has no business learning to read or do anything like that. A woman's place is where her man says it is." The Constable tossed the book aside. "My wife tried to read a book once. Had to give her the back of my hand for it. That's how it's supposed to be. Women need to be disciplined. Look at you for example. Your husband must not have a set of balls."
The witch scooted up to get close to the bars. She looked at the Constable and jerked her head, beckoning him to come over to her.
Constable Cyrus raised an eyebrow. He put the sack down and got up out of his chair before lumbering over to the witch. He crouched down to get eye level with her. "What?"
The witch made no response.
Cyrus narrowed his eyes. "What do you wan-"
The witch suddenly banged her cuffs against the bars.
Cyrus let out a startled shout before stumbling back and falling on his ass. The witch laughed at him through her gag.
Angry, the Constable got back to his feet and loomed over the witch. "Alright! It's time I gave you some discipline you bitch of a witch!"
The entrance to the cell room opened. The Constable turned around and saw Caleb Wittebane enter the room.
"You again?" Constable Cyrus asked. "What do you want now?"
"I'm here to finish my medical examination of the prisoner," said Caleb. "I understand she took a heavy blow to the head when she was caught. I need to check to make sure the injury isn't anything serious."
The Constable snorted. "Nice try, boy. You already took care of her leg, you don't need to do no more."
"She's going to be interrogated as soon as the Witch Hunter General gets everything ready for her," said Caleb. "Ever interrogate someone with a bad head wound? It works better if the prisoner can think straight. You really want me to get General Belos over here?"
The Constable gave it some thought, then he grunted. "Alright, fine. Make it quick." he went over and unlocked the cell for Caleb.
Caleb walked past the Constable and entered the cell. The witch eyed Caleb curiously as he knelt down next to her.
"Hello. It's me again." Caleb greeted. "Margaret, is it?"
The witch just stared at him.
"I'm just here to check your head for any serious injuries," said Caleb. "This won't take too long."
Caleb reached up and rifled through the witch's wild, rust-colored hair. She had really soft hair.
Without the Constable noticing, a woodpecker flew out of Caleb's coat and into the witch's hair.
The witch's eyes widened.
"Well, I've done all I can," said Caleb. "There's nothing more I can do for you."
"Great, now get out." said the Constable.
"As you wish." Caleb got up and headed out of the cell. The Constable crossed his arms as he watched Caleb make for the door.
"I knew your father."
Caleb stopped in his tracks right before he could reach the door, then turned around to face Cyrus.
"Witch Hunter General Jeremiah Wittebane." the Constable nodded. "Before I became the Constable, I was one of his lieutenants, just like your brother is to General Belos. I admired the man. Respected and trusted him enough to follow him into Hell if he told me to."
"I very much believe the two of you got along splendidly," said Caleb. "You are much alike."
"He used to brag about you and Philip, did ya know that?" Cyrus asked. "Whenever casual conversation could be allowed, your father would go on and on about how smart and clever you and your brother were."
Caleb blinked. "I…I did not know that."
"Yeah, he had high hopes for you two." Cyrus continued. "He was certain that one of you would be the next Witch Hunter General. As the elder brother, your father figured it would be you to take the mantle."
"He was wrong," Caleb said without any hesitation.
"He was, wasn't he?" Constable Cyrus took a step toward Caleb. "When Amadeus took the mantle after your father died, all of us were looking forward to the day you would take his place, just as Jeremiah wanted. But instead, you have shamed your father's name and disappointed him in every possible way. It's been heartbreaking, really, to see so little of Jerimiah in you. Good thing Philip was able to take after your father. One of you needs to make him proud."
Caleb narrowed his eyes. "As children, me and Philip both wanted to believe that father was someone we could be proud of. Even after every scolding, every beating, every curse and insult fueled by his cups, we both clung to the belief that there was at least something in father that could be defined as 'good'. In the end, Philip stuck with the idea that father's profession was the one good thing about him, while I simply gave up on the idea that father was a good man at all."
Caleb shook his head. "When people develop an idea that makes them feel at least some sort of comfort, they cling to it. It is why the Witch Hunters even exist. You people cling to the idea that what you do makes you heroes. And, satisfied by the glory and the praise you receive, you continue with your ways, saying whatever you want to say to justify the pain you cause."
Constable Cyrus stared long and hard at Caleb before he finally said anything. "...My advice? Leave Gravesfeild. Go somewhere far away and don't ever come back. No one wants you here."
"You know what?" Caleb asked. "I just might."
With that said, Caleb turned around and left the cell room, slamming the door shut on his way out.
"Pathetic." The Constable turned back around. "Now, where were we?"
Wielding a black wooden staff topped with a carving of a woodpecker, the witch tore off her gag and tossed it to the ground along with her broken shackles.
The Constable froze, suddenly looking very afraid.
The witch grinned. "I do believe there was mention of a need for discipline?"
At the stable, Caleb mounted his horse. "Time to head home, Apples."
Over at the jailhouse, there was an explosion. Caleb looked over to see the side of the building burst outward. A figure with large, rust-red hair riding on a flying stick flew out of the hole that had been blown out of the jailhouse.
"Time to head home right now." Caleb hurried the horse the hell back to his house.
"Aaaaaaaaand…finished!" Caleb took the tiny tools out of the bottle and held up the ship in the bottle. "Finally!"
The barque now sported a white flag bearing the Gravesfield town sigil, as well as the Colonial American flag. There was also a holy cross fixed onto the stern of the ship, and above the cross, the name of the ship was written in gold cursive. The Golden Guard, it read.
"After nearly an entire year, it's finally complete," Caleb announced. "...I think I might take up gardening next…Wow, I am just now realizing how bored I am with my life."
He put the ship in a bottle back down. "But not for long though. I am leaving for New York tomorrow and once I get there, I am going to join the Navy. I'll become a convoy captain, I'll travel the world and witness marvelous wonders, and my life won't feel like a dead-end road anymore."
Caleb sighed and shook his head. "God, how am I going to tell Philip?"
There was a knock on the door.
"Oh, good. Maybe that's him." Caleb went over to the door and opened it.
Philip was at the door.
Standing at the bottom of the porch was General Belos,
along with an angry mob of Witch Hunters armed with muskets and rifles.
Caleb's eyes widened as wide as they could, a sense of dread overwhelming him. "...Hello, everyone." Caleb stepped out of the house and closed the door. "How…can I help you?"
"The witch we had in custody escaped," said General Belos. "The one you found in Miller's barn."
"Really?" Caleb asked with forced shock. "Well, shoot. How'd that happen?"
"Actually, I was hoping you could tell me," said Belos. "The Constable, as bad as his injuries were, was able to tell me that you, Caleb Wittebane, visited the witch right before she escaped."
"I was just seeing to her head injury. I forgot to check the blow to the head you gave her when I took care of her leg." Caleb shrugged. "Couldn't tell you how she got loose."
"Oh, I believe you can," said Belos. "You, the witch sympathizer, the complete embarrassment to his Witch Hunter General father, the immense irritation to his town, went into the witch's cell, came out, and moments later, the witch burst out of her cell, beat up Constable Cyrus quite terribly, and then flew away."
"...Well…I know that looks bad…but…"
"Caleb," Philip faced his brother, looking far more stern and serious than he ever had before. "Look me in the eyes, and tell me you did not help the witch escape."
Caleb gulped. "I…did not…help the…the…can you repeat the question?"
"Well, I believe I've heard enough," said Belos. "Caleb Wittebane, you are under arrest for aiding and assisting a witch." the General chuckled. "My God, I've been waiting to say that for a very long time."
"Woah, now. Hold on." Caleb raised his hands up to chest level. "We…w-we can talk about this, can't we?"
The Witch Hunters behind General Belos all aimed their weapons at Caleb.
"Guess not." Caleb squeaked.
"Lower your weapons, men." General Belos ordered. "Let Lieutenant Wittebane take care of this."
From the bottom of the porch, Belos looked up at Philip. "Lieutenant. Arrest him. That is an order."
Caleb looked at his brother. "Philip?"
Philip shook his head angrily at his brother. "You goddamn moron."
Philip drew his pistol,
then turned and shot Witch Hunter General Amadeus Belos point-blank in the head.
The other Witch Hunters stumbled back in shock as their leader fell back dead.
"Quick! Get in the house!" Philip opened the door and he and Caleb rushed inside, slamming the door shut on the way in.
The Witch Hunters all gaped as the inside of the house flashed with a bright golden light.
"Alright, grab the muskets! They're under the bed!" Caleb shouted. "We can head out the back and make for the woods!"
"Uh, Caleb?" said Philip. "Did you happen to notice that…we are not in your house anymore?"
Caleb looked around and as it turned out, Philip was right. To their left, there was a forest. To their right, was a cliff edge.
"...Did we…go out the back already?" Caleb asked. "Because this doesn't look like my backyard."
"Those trees…are red," Philip commented as he looked up at the red trees.
"But it's the beginning of the summer." Caleb pointed out.
Philip walked over to the cliff edge. What he saw, made his face go slack-jawed.
"...Caleb," he whispered. "Perhaps you should see this."
Caleb walked up and stood next to his brother. He saw what Philip saw and his face mimicked his brother's in shock and awe.
"Oh…My…God."
Bones.
Bones as tall as mountains.
It was like nothing they had ever seen. It was like…they were staring at the decaying ribcage of a dead giant the size of a country. In the distance, living among the mountain-sized ribs, there looked to be a town of some kind. If you looked even farther, you could see a scary-looking skull the size of a state, submerged in seawater. The brothers looked up and saw strange creatures of various shapes and sizes flying through the sky.
Philip gulped. "What…is this place?"
"The Demon Realm."
The brothers let out a startled cry as they spun around.
Leaning casually against a strange, decorated, wooden door with a big, yellow snake eye centered at the top and the knob and keyhole centered near the bottom, was a woman. She had ash-white skin, a head of rust-colored hair like a huge red fern, long pointy ears, magenta eyes like grape wine, and a black cloak over a violet shirt dress and black high-heeled boots. She sported a black eye, and her right leg had been bandaged.
The woodpecker perched on the witch's shoulder chirped happily and the witch smiled with her ink-black lips.
"Welcome to the Boiling Isles."
To those of you who might've been wondering about it and to everyone else, Caleb's house in this story is the house that's connected to the portal door. The old house that Luz runs into to get to the Demon Realm, that's Caleb's old house. It makes sense when you think about it.
Until next time!
