His Witch, Her Demon

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Flashback 5

TRIGGER WARNING: Sexual Assualt towards the end of chapter

Tonight was the annual fall/winter festival in the village and Aamon couldn’t wait to finally attend it with Minerva. For the last three festivals, Minerva never wanted to go but he asks every year since they’ve been together.

“I already know what you’re going to ask me. So, don’t waste your breath because the answer is still no.” She stated once Aamon walked through the door with the ingredients for their breakfast. Aamon noticed she had changed into the other pair of fresher and dry clothes on the bed.

After cooking the ham and eggs over the fire and setting them on two separate plates, he stopped before her. “I wasn’t gonna ask you, Nerva.”

“What?” She questioned with furrowed eyebrows. Turning away from her spell book to look at him, the witch cocked her head like a puzzled cat as she took her plate with pieces of strawberries in her eggs and her ham chopped into tiny pieces.

“I mean, it’s fine. I’ll go by myself. I won’t keep pestering you about it anymore,” he replied as he took a bite of his eggs and ham.

“Um, ok,” Minerva replied carefully. “You know you’re usually more stubborn about this type of thing but whatever, I guess.”

Then, the demon and witch took their seats at the dining table.



Music blared through the village once the sunset. It was cold in the air from the slightest bit of snow on the ground, even though it was fall. Just as Aamon arrived, he noticed villagers already dancing and drinking around the well in the center of the village. Most of the villagers danced drunkenly of course. Aamon could tell everyone was having a good time. It was cold in the air from the slightest bit of snow on the ground, even though it was fall. Aamon’s feet crunched along the snow as he took a spot leaning on the side of a house. Accepting a tankard of ale from one of the festival’s caterers, his eyes studied over the villagers enjoying their freedom. He was enjoying it as well until a human girl asked him to dance.

“Sorry, but I don’t dance.”

“Everyone dances. It’s mundane.”

Ha, if only….he thought.

The girl continued. “So, there’s got to be another reason why you’re choosing not to dance with me. A logical one”

“Like I said, I don’t dance,” he stated bluntly, walking away from the tenacious girl. He passed through the dancing crowd towards the tavern. On his way there, an elderly lady with a weave basket passed him and fell. Hearing her cry of despair as the contents fell out of the basket, he went and helped her. Once he was sure the lady was alright, he began to walk away. But, the elderly lady stopped him in his tracks.

He groaned. What now?

“Thank you for helping me. Would you like one of my beaded necklaces? Because of the festival, they’re also free.”

Free? Hmm.

“Just one.”

“Please,” he added as the lady took out a fall colored beaded necklace from her basket.

“There you go, young man,” she said in a soft voice. She placed the necklace around his neck and again thanked him before walking away.

Aamon touched the beads of the necklace resting along his neck. Looking down, he said she was right. The beads were various colors of red, yellow, black, orange, and brown. In the middle, hung a crimson red crystal with little flecks of orange inside. It was so beautiful, he cracked a small smile.


Then, his thoughts were interrupted from struggling in the snow along the side of the tavern. He dumped his ale and followed the sound until he came across a man on top of a woman. The man was in the middle of tearing the woman’s dress as she struggled and cried beneath him.

The man was going to rape her.


Thinking fast, Aamon broke off an icicle from the edge of the roof of the tavern. He swung it at the man’s head, knocking him off the woman. In the act of discarding the icicle to the snow, he felt two arms wrap around his back. He looked down to a familiar head of curls resting on his chest.


Minerva reluctantly looked up at him with tears streaming down her face. Seeing it was actually her, he unwrapped her arms from around him. “Oh my gods, Minerva! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not hurt. Just a little shaken up. Thanks for showing up when you did.” She covered the tear in the front of her dress as best she could by crossing her arms over her chest. The witch walked away from him.

“Go continue on with your festival,” She croaked nonchalantly with a wave of her hand. “I’m going back home.”

Aamon walked after the witch and halted in front of her. He grabbed her hand and said, “We’re going home.”

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