Here's the third story in the Lost Episodes series. I decided to stray away from Vee and Masha and focus on Belos for this one. I've wanted to write this one for a while. I tried writing it as a journal, so there's no actual dialogue. Never written like this before, except for when I write my own. Let me know what you think.

Chapter 01: The Witch and the Bird

My name is Philip Wittebane. I am human being from the small town of Gravesfield, as well as a Witch Hunter. I have decided to chronicle my journey into this world of Witches, Demons, and magic, so that if I perish here, my story will at least be known to whoever finds my journal, be they human or not. If a human finds this journal, then please, use what I have learned to continue my work as a Witch Hunter. However, if you are a Witch or Demon, then let my words strike fear into your heart, and maybe you will learn to leave humanity well enough alone.

It all started when I was a small child. When I only seven years-old my older brother Caleb and I were sadly orphaned, our parents having befallen a tragedy while building the church. We were not there when it happened, having been left at home, my brother tending to the livestock, myself reading my book.

After the deaths of our parents, we were carted away to a nearby town. Our town was only just being built, and they hadn't yet had an orphanage for us to stay in. So, we were carted off to Gravesfield, with only our red and green overalls, my books, and my brother's carving knife. While our new home also lacked an orphange, it was least further along in its construction. We were even given a small shack to call our own. My brother, who was only three years older than I was, was deemed old enough and responsible enough to look after me.

I hated the town at first. They made us work in the fields and with the animals, churning butter and the like. I didn't want to do that; I only wanted to read my books and study, so I could better understand the world around me. But my brother made it all manageable.

Caleb would make churning butter into a little game. I thought it childish at first, but after a few games, I started enjoying it. I hadn't smiled since our parents passing and it felt nice to do so again. We would compete to see who could make the most, who could last the longest while making it. He always let me win. I still remember the first time I churned butter with him; I had to stand atop some lumber just to reach the top of the pole, since I was far too small to reach it normally.

It was a few weeks after we arrived when we learned of the town's dark history. Gravesfield was a hotbed of magic and Witches, the townsfolk having formed a group for fighting these horrid creatures; the Witch Hunters.

Caleb and I signed up immediately when we heard of the Witch Hunters. We'd heard of magic and Witches before, the horrifying crimes they committed against us humans, the kidnappings, the ritualistic sacrifices, as well as some of the trials that occurred across the country. But we'd never seen it for ourselves.

The first hunt we were a part of was during midday. We were play-fighting with sticks when four of the townsfolk showed up, brandishing pitchforks. They told us to follow them, that there was a Witch in the area. We followed, but found nothing.

A few nights later, my brother carved me a mask. He was a gifted wood carver, even at that young an age. I sat in front of him, mesmerized as he carved holes in the mask for my eyes. He then carved two extra pieces of wood into antlers and affixed them to the sides of the mask. He held it out to me, gently telling me, 'Wear this mask whenever you feel scared'. I excitedly put it on. It fit perfectly.

Caleb and I would go on to play Witches and Witch Hunters for the next several years. There weren't many Witch sightings, but we wanted to be ready, just in case. I always played the part of the Witch Hunter, while brother played the part of the Witch, complete with a pointy hat and cape.

Three years passed when we finally caught wind of another Witch. I donned my mask and pitchfork, while my brother grabbed a torch. We walked side by side, looking at each other proudly. He had grown several inches in the years, while I stayed the same height, much to my consternation.

This was our first true hunt, and we relished in the excitement. We found the Witch, but it managed to get away. I admit, I had my doubts as to whether or not magic was real, having read countless science books that denounce it, but after that night, I knew it was real. I'd seen for myself the way the Witch drew circles in the air, making fire and light appear as if out of thin air, the way it flew on what appeared to be a long stick; a broomstick perhaps.

It was another four years, when I was fourteen years old and started becoming a man in my own right, when my brother and I encountered a Witch yet again. We were by ourselves in the woods, looking for good wood for him to carve. I recall telling him about the local fauna and how it made you itch if you were to touch it, when we happened upon her.

She was a young woman we'd seen around town. She was a few years older than my brother, maybe in her twenties, and despite always hiding her face under a hood, we both could see that she was very pretty. She lived just outside of town, in a house in the woods, coming into town once or twice a month, trading wood carvings she made for money and supplies.

She always seemed fascinated by the food, her favorite being the potatoes we grew. She also bought several carvings my brother made, complimenting him on his skill. They always talked for a long time, usually about wood carving techniques. My brother seemed to have formed a crush on her.

I never liked her.

The woman, the Witch, had followed us into the woods. She held a staff with a green bird carved on the top. She said she had a gift for brother. She showed us a small, wooden bird, a red cardinal. She said it was a gift for him, for all the fine wares she'd bought over the last year.

We did not know she was a Witch at the time. Had we known, maybe all that happened since would not have happened. When we left her, I wished to be rid of the carving, but Caleb wanted to keep it. He said he liked the woman, that he felt a connection with her. While I myself had not yet developed those kinds of feelings, if ever, given I still have no interest, my brother had, and there was nothing I could do to stop them.

Two weeks went by. Caleb was always carrying that carving with him. He made several of his own, painting them all in different colors, selling them to the others in town and to the people who visited.

He would talk to it, as if it were an actual bird. Or even a person! People talked. I insisted it was just due to his crush on the woman who came to town every so often, but people still found it strange. They were growing wary of us.

One night, as I was reading a science text I'd managed to procure from a wandering scholar, I heard my brother talking to the carving. I merely rolled my eyes in annoyance as he spoke. He talked of how he wanted to live a peaceful life, of how close-minded the people here were, how they were so religious, how he wanted so much to leave. He hated how intolerant they were of people, not just Witches, but towards others in the community; two women were found last year to have been engaging in amorous activities, and were condemned for it. One of them was hung, while the other was exiled. While I shared these sentiments regarding humans, seeing no point in hating the queers for simply being what they were, I did not when it came to Witches.

Suddenly, he gasped and called for me. It sounded urgent, so I hurried to him, only to find the bird statue flying above him, pulling at his hair. I immediately threw my book at it, but missed. Caleb stopped me from attacking it further. Instead of being repulsed by it, he seemed to be entranced. My brother kept the bird despite my protests. He even gave it a name; Flapjack, named after his favorite food.

I hated it. I could see that it was corrupting him, but try as I might, I could never get him to part with it. He kept it a secret from the townsfolk, knowing if he revealed its nature then it would surely be taken away and destroyed. He made me swear on our parents that I would keep it a secret, and though I wished nothing more than to be rid of the creature, I agreed.

Another two weeks passed, and we once again encountered the Witch. We saw her at the edge of the forest as we were baling some hay, beckoning for us to come to her. I wanted to alert the townsfolk, but Caleb stopped me. He ran for the Witch and I followed close behind.

The Witch stopped at a small clearing. I hid behind one of the trees while he showed himself. She removed her hood, showing us her thick, dark red hair, her fanged teeth, and her enormous ears, which came to a point at the top. While her face was pretty and could pass for human, the rest of her was absolutely hideous.

The bird the Witch had given my brother suddenly sprang to life, flying towards the Witch. It tweeted at her, as if speaking. Caleb laughed at that, then asked who the Witch was, if she had a name. She lifted her right hand, entending a finger, letting the bird perch on it. Another bird, one that looked like a twin to the red one, only green in color, perched on her right shoulder.

She said her name was Evelyn, that she came to our realm seeking to trade, to make peace with us. She spoke of the people, both human and Witch, who died as a result of their fearing each other. She spoke of another war that could be started between Witches and humans, one that would surely end in massive amounts of blood and death, if we did not find common ground. She said it was only a matter of time before they started truly fighting. I couldn't help but wonder what it was she meant by 'another war'.

Caleb then asked why she would reveal herself to them. She said she'd been watching us, or more specifically, my brother, and found that, through their conversations over the past several months, he was far more tolerant than the other humans. She said Witches had no concept of hatred for others simply for their beliefs, their skin color, or even for their choice in romantic partners. She said she knew Caleb, a kind and progressive human, was the one person she'd met that she could trust with the knowledge that she had. The fact that his Palisman, the red bird she'd given him, accepted him so readily, was proof of his kind heart.

Though I watched them talk, I was too scared to show myself. I just stood there and watched, clutching my mask, hoping, praying, that my brother would be able to break free from her spell. I still don't know why she didn't cast one me; perhaps I was too intelligent, perhaps she could only do it to one person at a time. Whatever the reason was, I was just glad to be free.

Suddenly, the Witch, Evelyn, lifted her left hand. A violet flame appeared out of thin air, and my brother started walking closer to her. I was trembling at this point. Caleb stood in front of her, placing his right hand near the fire. He touched the fire, but it didn't burn him, merely dancing around his fingers. I couldn't see his face, but I could tell from Evelyn's that she had him completely within her grasp.

Without warning, Evelyn grabbed my brother by his hand and ran away with him. I stood there, frozen for a few more seconds, then looked at my mask. My brother's words echoed in my; 'Wear this mask if you ever feel scared'.

I quickly donned the mask, then, feeling my fear dampen, ran for my brother. I managed to find the two running into a small clearing. A stone archway, encircled by a stone fence, stood atop a small hill, the top of the archway overtaken by a large amount of moss. The archway, instead of showing what should've been on the other side, instead showed what seemed to be a liquid of several dark colors. I could see it rippling and sparkling. It was a portal. A portal to another world.

The Witch pulled my brother towards the archway, the two of them laughing as they ran through it. I froze at the bottom of the small hill, unable to bring myself to take a step further. I was still scared, even with my mask. Before I could build up the courage to follow them, the portal started to fade. My eyes widened, then I ran for the portal. But before I could reach it, it disappeared. I landed on my knees on the other side of the archway, frozen in shock at my failure to save my brother.

I broke down, becoming a sobbing mess on the damp ground. I pounded my fist against the grass in fury, one I had never felt before in my life, my eyes stinging from the tears.

My brother was gone. And it was all my fault.