The Cure

Elfrida’s lungs burned and her legs wobbled. The hem of her dress was in tatters, torn from the underbrush and the branches of trees that she had run through. Those same branches had cut her cheeks and caught in her hair, but Elfrida couldn’t pay any attention to the pain, not when she was so close to sharing the same fate as her mother. Try as she might, she couldn’t wrap her head around why the village would turn against them in such a way.

She grew up knowing how the people of Simad viewed her mother. A witch, they would whisper to themselves. The devil’s spawn, they would murmur. Of course, those whispers had carried over unto Elfrida. Together, they endured dark looks. Yet, the village would use her mother's services. As a Wise Woman, Elfrida’s mother was a healer. She held the value of helping all close to her heart, and had passed that value onto Elfrida. Even now, as Elfrida ran with her mother’s screams ringing in her ears, Elfrida wondered what she could do, if anything, to help these misguided people.

She could hear the village men gaining on her. Shouting her name with taunts and leers. She didn’t expect them to catch up. Her vision blurred as she began to cry.

“I got the bitch!” A man hollared. It sounded like he was right behind her, Elfrida glanced back in fear. Her mouth fell agape as she watched a stone fly through the air. It struck her in the back. Elfrida collided the forest floor. Crying out in pain as her hands and knees were cut open from the impact. Pain webbed across her back. She tried to gasp for air. Like a fish out of water she squirmed. It was all she could to do to sob as the men's heavy footsteps grew near.

Elfrida was lifted from the ground by her long hair, earning a loud shriek from her. She had nothing left to fight back with. Mentally and physically, she had given up. She was going to be burned alive.

“Tie up her legs, we’ll drag the witch back to the village.” A man said to the group surrounding her. She recognised his voice; it was the baker. She and her mother had helped his family just last moon. Yet, here he stood. Suggesting they torture her beforehand. Elfrida struggled to understand what she had done wrong. Her chest heaved as she hiccuped. Sorrow gripped her heart like an icy claw, digging its talons into her.

" Wha-what did we do-o?” She managed to gasp out. She craved the answer. As if it was her lifeline, the only thing that could save her.

“Shut up, witch.” Elfrida was thrown onto her back. What little air she had managed to get through her sobs left her lungs in a small whoosh. The man tying her ankles together tightened the rough rope until it bit into her flesh.

“The rest of you run ahead, let the women know we have her.” Through bleary eyes, Elfrida watched a man tie the other end of the rope to the saddle of his horse. She cried harder, realizing the pain she would soon be in. The other men cheered, mounting their horses, or running ahead.

"O three knocks on your door means the witch is near!" She heard them shouting a child's lullaby as the rushed back to the village.

As their voices died, the rider mounted his horse. Elfrida breathed shakily. She was going to die. Her eyes searched the sky. Perhaps the answer why was in the clouds. They were dark, and ripe with rain that they would soon no longer be able to hold. She prayed then. She prayed for her death to be a painless one. To be as quick as the god above could grant her.

Even as rocks tore into the flesh in her back and the brush cut her flesh, she stared into his domain. She could hear a child screaming and distinctly recalled it being her voice she heard. The sound spooked the horse. Its hooves pounding the earth. Elfrida was jostled from the the horse’s gait. She was thrown in the air, only to smack into the ground once more. Her throat was torn and her screaming was reduced to nothing more than air forced through her lips.

She had never regretted anything more than she regretted running from the men of the village to begin with. The rocks flaying into her back, cutting the skin and flash, had proved to her she only worsened her punishment. Elfrida was sure she would die before they had even reached Simad. She felt empty. Devoid of anything but the pain. She couldn’t form a thought. Even when the came to an abrupt stop she was oblivious. Her eyes unseeing to the shadow moving through the treetops.

The figure launched themself from the branches of its perch. Its knees landed on the rider’s shoulder’s. They pressed their thighs tightly against the man’s head and twisted their body. Using the momentum of their fall, they broke his neck. Before they hit the ground, they stuck their hands out and leapt onto them. They flipped themselves and landed on their feet. They spared a glance to the man's body behind them and then looked towards the child they had saved. Cradling her body gently was a warrior.

His armour was steel, crafted as masterly as the monk beside him had executed the killing blow. Strapped to his back was a large sword, a weapon that boasted the wielder’s strength. His helm was designed to cover his face, leaving holes for his eyes and opened the nose. The monk was covered head to toe in dark, layers. The only featured that was revealed was his ever watching eyes. They bounced around the trees, scanning for another threat.

“Her wounds.” He murmured to the warrior as he approached.

“We should’ve acted sooner.” The warrior bit back. “I’m just impressed that she’s still alive, Sai.” Sai glanced at her face. It was clear to him why the men had called her a witch. She was very beautiful. Even covered in mud and her own blood. He watched her eyes; they were grey. Grey like the clouds above. Threatening a storm within. She had fair skin, with hair to match. Her full, pink lips opened as she let a whimper escape. She was young, but not much younger than he was.

“I’m gonna deal with the village, Leila knows to meet me there.” The paladin spoke. He gently handed Sai the child before him. Sai nodded, turning away from his partner. He carried the girl as carefully as he could. Trying not to cause her anymore pain. Before nightfall he knew they would be headed back to the guildhall, and that the village of Simad would be burned to the ground.

Updated on Sundays.

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