Chapter 4: In the Church

"Get back here you useless girl!" screeched Greta. Mabel kept running, tearing through the branches and the bushes in her way. It was never enough. Whatever she stole wasn't enough for her mother. She wanted more and more. Blinded by her own tears, she stumbled and fell. She lay where she fell, her body shaking with sobs as she tried to hold back the burning tears. Her cheeks stung where a few drops managed to squeeze out and strike her.

"Mabel!" she heard her mother call out. Catching her breath, Mabel rose up and ran to the west. There was one place she knew her mother wouldn't follow her. She hurried on until she came to the crumbling outer wall of the old cathedral. She'd overheard people in the village mention it. It was older than the village. Part of an ancient pilgrimage that new knights from a forgotten kingdom would take. What the village couldn't agree on is if it was haunted by ghosts, or guarded by angels. Either way, they all avoided it and it's "presence". Mabel wasn't sure what they meant by that, but she always felt safe here. For whatever reason her mother never followed her here. The villagers left it alone. Here, at least, she had found a sanctuary.

As she made her way through the crumbling and familiar courtyard, Mabel stopped by the old well. Though worn and crumbling like the rest of the old church, it still had water in its depths and a working, though rusted, wheel with a worn rope to haul the water up. Mabel splashed her face with the cool water, relieving the sting from her tears. Staring into her reflection in the bucket, she appraised her face. She didn't see any red marks this time from the tears. The only red was the red of her eyes.

Snarling slightly, Mabel struck the bucket and sent it careening back into the well. Turning quickly, she hurried into the chapel of the old church. Immediately, she felt a calmness come over her. The warm sun shone through the fractured glass windows and holes in the thatched roof. Moss grew up around the stone benches, soft and cool. The music of birds echoed from their nests in the timbers of the roof. Mabel closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Suddenly, she felt so tired. She hadn't slept all last night. She'd been sneaking in and out of the village, hoping to get enough to appease her mother for once. But she had been wrong.

"You spent all night sneaking? For these trinkets and garbage? How many times do I have to tell you?! Stop a caravan. Take the wares meant for the market!"

"I can't sneak around a caravan mother."

"Who said anything about sneaking? What do you think these are for?!" cried Greta as she snatched Mabel's hand and held it up, smiling at the long cruel claws. Mabel glared and retracted them.

Greta growled. "Idiot girl! What do you think I had you for?"

"I don't care what you had me for, I won't hurt anyone."

"Because they're so good?"

"Father wouldn't want me to—"

"Your father is dead! They killed him!"

"Not this village."

"Oh, you think they're any better. Then go show your face to them. Maybe I can die for you this time!"

Mabel shook her head. It was an old fight. One they had had many times. Tired and weary, Mabel sat down on one of the stone benches. A bird landed near her, pecking calmly at the moss. Mabel smiled reached her hand into her pocket where she'd stuck a roll. Grasping some crumbs, she held out her hand gently, patiently.

The bird hopped into her hand and started pecking at the crumbs. Mabel could feel the small bird's heartbeat reverberate through her hand. It calmed her. Delicately, she ran a finger down the bird's feathers. It let her stroke it, trusting the familiar hands that had been coming to feed it more and more often.

Mabel looked around the old church. Sometimes, she would feed the birds here, or read the few moulding books in the old library attached to the chapel. She could play the chimes she had found behind the balustrade. Here, she even practiced her climbing, climbing up the tall bell tower. The rotting wood was harder to climb than a sturdy tree, but….she didn't really want to climb trees anymore. Today though, today she just wanted to escape into sleep.

Setting the bird down gently, Mabel stretched out on the soft moss on her stone bench. She didn't care about the dirt or stains. In her dreams, it wouldn't matter.

There were many magical gifts a Witch's Daughter seemed to have. Her mother only cared about her fierce eyes, sharp claws, swift limbs and strong physique. Those were the only ones she encouraged or explained to Mabel. Slowly though, Mabel had realized she was capable of more. In her dreams, she could leave her body and move through the space around her. It was how she kept watch over herself when she slept. Her powers went deeper than this though. Her mother didn't know it, but once, while practicing at home, she had walked close to her mother, and suddenly, she wasn't in the house anymore. She was in a cavern full of laughing and jeering women.

"Well little Greta! Have you finally mastered your incantations?" jeered one of the women.

"Just you wait," sneered a woman Mabel faintly recognized as a young Greta. "I will be the most powerful sorceress someday!"

"You," laughed another woman. "With how lazy you are, it's a wonder you ever joined the coven to begin with."

All the woman started to dance around young Greta, laughing, pointing, jeering, while Greta fell to the ground screeching "Just you wait! Just you wait!"

Frightened, Mabel had bolted awake. In the darkness she could hear her mother murmuring in her sleep. It had been tempting to enter her mother's dream again to try to understand her better, but Greta had awoken in such a foul mood that day, lashing out at even the smallest of offenses.

Mabel sighed as she started to drift asleep. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but the truth was she wasn't just afraid of the world outside. She was afraid of her mother. She was afraid of herself. The bird next to her took flight, singing cheerfully as it did. A painful tear squeezed out from under Mabel's lid.

"I'm lost," she finally admitted to herself. "I am lost and I will never find myself." This time, Mabel did not try to walk while sleeping. All she wanted this time was to slip into sweet oblivion and find relief from herself, even if it was just for a moment. And she did. For an hour, Mabel slept soundly and undisturbed. She slept with dreaming, without seeing, without knowing, until the world decided to trespass once more on her oblivion.

She wasn't sure what roused her first. The horses' neigh, the sound of a steel boot on the steps of the chapel, or the melodic and deep voice calling out "Is anyone here?"

She wasn't sure what roused her first, but all at once Mabel's spectral form rose up and looked around her. There, at the door of the chapel, stood a knight in shining armor, with a green cloak wrapped around his shoulders…and he was coming right towards her sleeping form!