Fire And she leapt into the fire below. I�ve been a witch my entire life. My mother was a witch and her mother before her and so on. The Masters witches they call us. We have a tendency of unintentionally making enemies wherever we went; it�s not our personalities, we just seem to attract trouble. My great great grandmother was a young woman before she discovered she was a witch. As the story goes, she was working in the wheat field when she came upon a dead stalk. It was quite unusual; one dead stalk in a field of healthy ones. When she reached out to touch it she felt something travel from her to the stalk, giving it new life. My great great grandmother could do anything she wanted � when it came to plants. When a brush fire consumed her entire crop and her along with it, she could do nothing to stop it. Each Masters witch has her own special power. My grandmother had a talent with animals and my mother was a weather worker. The day my mother died, a terrible flood storm swept through the village, killing many people; but it was too late to stop the fire. That�s another thing Masters Witches seem to have a tendency of: burning. Every single Masters witch has died at a young age by flame. My grandmother�s house was set on fire and my mother was burned at the stake. I was kept secret to the townsfolk, and therefore escaped almost entirely unscathed. I still blame myself for not being able to save her. They said I was unique. The one thing my ancestors died from is the one thing I can control. Fire. As I entered the town called Racheville, I knew I would remember it well. I knew this because of two things. Firstly, it was raining. Rain was rare in this area but it was also a natural dampener of my power, which is why I liked it. I could be almost normal in rain. The other reason I knew I was going to remember this day was that no one offered to help me. I walked into town carrying three bags and struggled all the way. In fact, no one seemed to notice I was there at all. With my flaming red hair and piercing green eyes, usually I received glances of amazement or a casual comment. Men would fall over themselves to help me with my bags; women have occasionally given me looks of disdain and jealousy, mostly because the men who were helping me were their husbands. No one did that here. I liked it. When I arrived at my new cottage, there was a small and rather plump woman waiting for me. Her eyes lit up underneath bushy grey eyebrows when she saw me, most of her hidden behind a large cloth-covered basket. �Mrs. Barrett?� I asked cautiously. I had learned in my travels to be suspicious of those who linger where they are not welcome. When the man in charge of the town told me it was customary for one of the townsfolk to give a newcomer a tour, I argued for an hour before relenting. �Yes, you must be Ena.� She said in a husky voice, mispronouncing my name. �Ay-na.� I corrected her. �What a lovely name.� She said, subtly looking me up and down. I nodded my thanks, looking over my new home. It was good for privacy; the leaves and vines growing all around made it look unwelcome to those who couldn�t appreciate the true beauty of nature. �Well, look at all those bags!� she exclaimed. �Do you need any help with them? We should get you settled in before I take you on the grand tour.� �Is the tour necessary? I can find my way around and I�m really rather tired from the journey.� I said, trying to argue one last time. But the elderly woman merely smiled as if she had heard it all before and was prepared to force me into town if she had to. �Now is not the time to be unsocial, my dear. The townsfolk are very excited to meet you and I�m sure you�ll find this a beautiful place to settle. You can even fix up your new home, make it nice and�clean.� She said, glancing disapprovingly at the cottage. �Well, I�d really prefer-� I started again, but she cut me off. �You can unpack later. I brought a fruit basket so you have something to eat before you get your bearings in town. But for now let�s get you acquainted with the good people of Racheville.� She gripped me surprisingly firmly by the arm and led me to the dirt road that curved into town. It was a fair walk; I only wanted visitors who truly wanted to visit, and it gave me time to think about how I was going to introduce myself when I got to town. Of course Mrs. Barrett was a chipper lady, going on and on about the different people in town and how when she first moved here she had a bumpy start but as soon as she learned the rules she fit in perfectly. I asked her what rules she referred to, but all she would reveal was a wink and mischievous smile. We reached town quickly. I was treated the same way as when I arrived until Mrs. Barrett let out an ear-splitting whistle to get everyone�s attention. They gathered as quickly as they felt they should, and we waited patiently for everyone to cluster. �This is Ena Masters.� She announced to the crowd. �She just moved here and she's living in the old Sager cottage down the road. You know the one with all the�foliage.� The people were just as interested with this new information as they were with me; they sighed and went back to their activities. �Don�t worry dear, they�ll come to love you just as they did me.� Mrs. Barrett patted me on the hand. �Now you�ll need to know where the stables are in case you need a ride and we�ll simply have to visit the bakery and the butcher�s-� �Mrs. Barrett, I appreciate the sentiment of the tour but can we possibly continue it at another time? I�m not feeling very well and I�d like to get settled in to my cottage as soon as possible. Perhaps we can pick up where we left off tomorrow?� I suggested as politely as I could. She frowned, but finally agreed and let me go. As I walked back to my new home, it began to rain. Chapter 2 I thought about the other homes I had in the past and the people I had made friends with. I thought about how those same people had pushed me onto the road, more than once with nothing but what I had on me. I had been forced to leave many of my things behind, but I never kept anything of importance; except the locket. My mother had given it to me the day before they set her aflame. She placed it around my neck just before she sent me away on a boat. I was so young yet it remained clear as yesterday in my mind. She kissed me on the forehead and wiped my tears from my cheeks and lashes. �Keep this locket around your neck.� She whispered in my ear. �Never take it off, and I will always find you.� She kissed me one last time and pushed the boat away, knowing that the current would lead me to the next town where I would be safe. That was the last time I saw my mother. I heard rumors of a great storm sweeping through the little town, but mysteriously sparing all the ones around it. Many people died, and those who didn�t spun the tale of the witch�s last curse. I learned the truth from the lies when I was older and from then on kept to myself. It wasn�t enough. The first chance I got I fled from my second home, to the next town. I spent three weeks there before the first incident happened. I didn�t have enough money then to pay for a room, so I managed by building shelter from nature. A local boy had been harassing me, trying to kiss me and grab my hand. When I had refused his advances, he took it upon himself to taunt me and throw rocks at me. He wouldn�t leave me alone until one day when he caught me alone near my camp. The boy pinned me against a tree and was once again trying to get me to kiss him. When I wouldn�t, he tried to force himself on me; and that�s when it happened. I put my hand on his face, trying to wriggle free, my skirt roughly hiked up. He struggled against me, trying to keep me pinned and undo his belt at the same time. I put my hand on his face to push him away and felt a surge of energy rise from deep in my stomach. It traveled through me, a wave of heat, and for a moment I thought he had succeeded in his task. He started screaming about his face and when I looked at him, the flesh on one side of his face had been seared through. He sprinted away from me screaming his entire way home. His parents took one look at him and rushed him to the medic as fast as they could. People who witnessed it said it smelled like charred meat and looked about the same. The doctor did what he could but everyone knew the boy would never be the same. He pointed a finger at me, screaming I was a devil-girl, a whore of Satan and the like. The townspeople figured I had tried to set him on fire so they threw me out on my backside. The last I heard of that boy he was a perfect son from then on, the sweetest little boy and a devout Christian. I guess he was afraid I would come back and finish the job if he wasn�t; but who knows where he got such an idea. I had been thrown out of my first town, but certainly not my last. The next two towns I left on my own, bored with the people and the scenery. The fourth town I arrived in was extremely small, which should have immediately set off warning bells in my head. I settled down with a new camp and kept to myself as I promised myself I would. It went well for a couple of months, few people even knowing I inhabited a small part of their woods. But trouble came, as it must. I was bathing in a stream, concentrating on using my gift to heat the water around me but not kill all the fish. I had almost succeeded when my concentration was broken by a twig snapping behind me. I quickly hunched down into the water and spun around, spying a young man darting into nearby bushes, no doubt spying. I finished bathing as discretely as I could and bravely stepped out the water and onto the bank. I heard a small gasp from the bushes and smiled a little. �You can come out now, I won�t hurt you.� I called out to him and reached for my clothes. He cautiously stepped out of the brush, a handsome and healthy young man about my age. His deep brown eyes stared into mine as I waited. He realized what I was waiting for and coughed loudly and gave a short bow. �I beg your pardon miss, but I was hunting and I thought I had set eyes on a nymph. I heard tales that if a nymph catches you watching her bathe there are terrible consequences, so I hid.� He watched my face, perplexed when I started to laugh. �Hunting? Come now, am I really supposed to believe that? More likely you and your friends were curious about the girl who lives in the woods and when you came to spy, you caught me bathing.� I saw a momentary flash of anger in his eyes at my accusation and the truth shone through. �Or perhaps you are telling the truth after all.� I amended, studying him. �I will decide your fate later. But for the current, would you like to join me? I am very skilled at catching fish and I fear some of it may go to waste.� He relaxed and nodded, sitting down next to me. His name was Ayden. He told me how he grew up in the town and about his family, his brother and sisters, all younger. He wanted to know about me, but I had learned to answer questions without really answering them and I put my skill into action. We talked until the sun slept and the moon awoke and then we lay in the supple grass and gazed at the heavens above us. We made a game of seeing who could name the most shapes, which I won of course. From then on he called me Cassie, short for Cassiopeia, his favorite cluster. I saw him every day and night for many a time after. He never knew of my secret craft and I was too afraid to tell him the truth on the chance he would shun me and bring about my end. If I had known how precious those days were, I would have revealed myself to him in every way possible. But I did not know and when the people of the town came for me, it was too late. They thought it strange that I lived in the woods by myself and they sought the cause of a sudden sickness that had stained the town. Without a logical explanation, they began pointing fingers until someone pointed one at me. They came at dawn with fire to burn me alive and rid themselves of my evil. But they did not understand the power I held. The man in charge took me by the wrist and attempted to light my skirt aflame, but the fabric would not catch. �More witchlike antics!� he began to shout and ripped the cloth violently from my body. He put my hair to the flame but it would not catch either. I did not struggle or cry out, for I knew there was no point. If they wanted to kill a witch, they would succeed. He hit me across the face hard, bellowing, �Surely if fire will not harm her, water will!� Men from the village came forward with rope to bind my hands and feet. My eyes went wide as Ayden joined them, an anger on his face I did not recognize. He avoided my gaze as he roughly tied his knots but when the last were done, he set his beautiful brown eyes upon mine. I saw into his heart and understood. Then I was in water, sinking quickly and gagging on the extra rope they had tied around my head and thrust in my mouth. I reached the bottom and stayed there, waiting for the justice that would surely come. When my breath ran out and my vision started to fade, I saw my mother sitting cross-legged beside me, smiling and stroking my hair as she did before I went to sleep. I heard the song she sang to me every night, in her soft and melodious voice that I lacked. I felt her arms around me, hugging me close as I drifted into darkness. Chapter 3 I woke to pounding on my chest and I convulsed, coughing up water onto the ground. I opened my eyes to the most beautiful sight on earth. Ayden stood over me, a concerned look in his eyes. I smiled at him weakly, and he sighed in relief. He picked me up, carrying me to a nearby cave and placed me carefully near a fire he had made. He brought me clothes, a pair of his pants and a shirt he had outgrown. He had shoes as well, but they were much too large. He promised he would find some in a smaller size when he went back to town. �Won�t they find us here?� I asked him when I could speak. He shook his head. �They�ve gone back to town to sleep and think nothing of the woman they killed. Or tried to kill. Don�t worry. Even if they do find us, I�d die before I let anything happen to you.� He put his arms around me, bringing me close. I put my head in his lap and stared into the fire, wishing with everything I had that I didn�t have this curse so I could be with him. But I knew the illness in town would not cease and they would believe I lived. They would scour the forest, find us and kill us. I refused to be the cause of Ayden�s death. I sat up and kissed him ever so gently on the lips. He kissed me back, a kiss filled with love and longing and desire. I gave myself to him; my body, my heart, my soul, and my love. I gazed into his eyes until he fell asleep and then I slipped away from him, leaving the safety and warmth of his touch behind. I paused at the exit to the cave and looked back. I wanted to run back to him, agree that everything would be right if we had each other. I wanted to lie in his arms every day and night and be with him until the end of our days. But I knew that if I did, I would be setting into motion his death along with mine. I left Ayden sleeping blissfully, praying that he would be spared the wrath of the townspeople and that he would find happiness with another. I set upon the road to a different region, carefully concealing my tracks so Ayden could not hunt me down. Sobs were torn from me with every step I took, with every breath my heart broke a little more. I kept hoping that he would understand and that he would live to an old age, even if it was without me. I walked the entire way to a new town, a new identity and with a new purpose. I would wait for many years to pass and then travel once again to that town. They would not remember the face of a dead woman, but he would know me regardless of the years added to my brow. I was determined to keep to myself until then, to stay out of trouble. It never goes as we plan. I was kicked out of many a town after that, but none so violently. I changed my name from time to time or cut my hair, but the results were always the same. People were suspicious of a young woman living by herself, and once they found I was with child they became worse. I reached Racheville during my second month, the people unaware of the child growing in my belly. If I had my privacy, that is how it would stay. Privacy is a funny thing. When you want it, you don�t get it and when human contact is your one desire, you find yourself wanting. I wanted to be left alone, to study and learn and harness my craft without bother, but of course I would not get it. The town did seem to warm to me; I began to receive visitors. Women would bring food and offer advice; men would come with offers to help me with any lifting or repairs on my new house, and to flirt. I was a good hostess as my mother taught me; I would put on tea and offer my visitors whatever I had baked that day. Despite my want to be alone, I was somewhat comforted by the kindness of these people. I listened to their tales of childhood, learned about their families. I suppose that�s how I became so close to them. They began to come for advice, and I offered herbs to help them sleep or rid them of a rash. I knew that it would bee my downfall; I was on unsteady ground and taking a large chance that they would turn on me. But I couldn�t sit alone in my cottage, feeling my child grow in my belly and not do anything to help the community she would be born into.
