Kingdom of Ravens

Prologue • The Witch

Water. That is all I hear and feel… The sound of the waves as they crash into each other— and into me. I never learned how to swim; I never thought it would be necessary. I should have listened to Mother when she offered.

Now that she is gone and the people of my hometown were after me, there wasn’t anywhere else for me to run. I only escaped because I have foreseen my fate if I was to stay in my village any longer—

His Majesty wanted me dead.

I gasp for air as I desperately clutch onto nothing, seawater getting into my mouth. That island off the coast… I must get to it at all costs, live a new life, away from the King! But the more I struggled in this vast, slick trap, the weaker I grew...

Is this what being on the verge of death feels like? Will this be a painful way of passing? For once, I cannot see what will happen…

How I wish it didn’t end this way.

As my consciousness slowly drifts away, I feel numb. I succumb to the tossing and turning of the tides; it is the end for me. I begin sinking, my strength to fight back against the belligerent tides fading… until a pair of hands grasp my arms and pull me out of the water. I force my eyes open as I hear my rescuer pant, only to have saltwater blur my vision. I feel myself being dragged along the ground moments later, and I could faintly hear people surrounding me.

Who are these people?

Have I been rescued?

Am I finally on the island?

A cough interrupts my thoughts, sputtering water out of my mouth and gushing out of my nose. I wheeze after my fit, taking in gulps of air— the world seems so blurry and confusing, and a little too bright, in all honesty.

“Are you alright, lass?” asks a bearded man, bent over with his hands on his knees, clothes dirtied and drenched in seawater. I take in my surroundings and the people around me.

I seem to be in a village, huts littered around a huge fire pit, flocks of sheep in pens bounded in hay and straw, and drying racks for meat and fish…

This island is inhabited.

“Did you save me?” I ask despite my bewilderment, looking up at the man. He kneels in front of me this time and nods, telling me that he and his comrades would not have found me alive if the youngest of their group had not seen me struggling from afar before they came back to shore.

He holds out a hand to me, helping me stand, and questions me further, for outsiders rarely get to their homeland. Before I even say anything, the kind, bearded man offers to let me stay in his home to recover. I reluctantly accept his offer, and they take me into the village. Quite a short walk, I must say; they live near the shore.

How do they survive?

I am ushered into one of the huts, where the man leaves me by the door. A woman with long, brown hair appears, drying her hands off on the front of her short-sleeved kirtle. She must be his wife. They exchange a few muttered words before the woman faces me with the warmest smile I have ever seen in a while.

“You must be cold, dear! One moment, I shall bring you a change of clothes,” she says, going to a secluded part of the hut and pulling clothes out of a drawer. Her husband grabs a change of clothes for himself then gets out of the way, stating that he will be gone momentarily to gather more firewood near the forest edge for the hearth before nightfall. As he leaves, the wife offers me a clean chemise and gown, and gives me privacy to dry off and change. The moment I finish, a hot bowl of pottage sits atop their dining table.

“Have a seat, dear. Eat up! You looked starved and almost died, what had happened to you?” she asks as I take a seat, taking hold of the wooden spoon in the bowl.

“I was escaping… I had nowhere else to go. They…”

Faltering on what to say next, I put a spoonful of the stew into my mouth, the warmth settling into my throat as I swallow. Only then did I realize how famished I was, guzzling the rest of what was in the bowl.

I hear a chuckle as I down the last drops of soup, so I bow my head in embarrassment.

“I must apologize, I have not had a proper meal in days…”

“Pray thee, dear. I am flattered, really! Let me get you another serving.”

As she takes my bowl, I watch her head to the hearth at the end of the hut, ladling the hot, brown broth into the bowl with vegetables and meat falling with a plash.

“Gramercy. Where exactly am I, um…?”

“You are in a place with no known history, dear, but 'tis home to us,” she states, placing the bowl back in front of me. “My name is Celeste. The man who rescued you is my husband Hugh, he is a fisherman.”

“You all live near the coast of the Kingdom of Gwynedd, Celeste. The King has sent his men to that place as well, just to look for me… Do you have… some sort of a leader, perchance?”

“I would not say ‘leader’, honestly, but my husband takes care of things around these parts. We, as well as the village on the other side of the island, live in harmony, and there is just enough food for everybody, mayhap a bit more, unlike the homes in the other kingdoms where you are from. Tell me, dear,” she pauses, dragging a stool and sitting across from me. “You are the second stranger to ever arrive on this island, Hugh being the very first one. He knows what t'was like, alone and confused just like you, thus he was kind enough to provide you the hospitality he did not receive the day he arrived... Why are you on this island? And why should we trust you?”

I gape in astonishment. She rests her arms on the table as I look down into my bowl, speaking in a low voice.

“It is a long story…”

“We have all day, dear.”

I take a deep breath after a spoonful of Celeste’s stew, and introduce myself.

“My name is Rosalynd. I come from a small village near Ceredigion, and I believe I’ve been blessed by the gods— I can foresee what will happen to people.”

“Foresight? I do not think I have ever believed in that… erm… Well, what do you see in my future, then?”

“I regret to say this, but it does not work that way. I can see into the near future, where people are bound to get hurt, or mayhap even worse. It comes and goes; I see it out of nowhere, all of a sudden. I…”

I pause, shoving another spoonful of stew into my mouth. After swallowing, I look into the brunette’s eyes.

“I saw my neighbors’ fates. I saw how they met their ends, like how one of them refused to pay their weekly aid. I foresaw that he was going to be beaten and drowned by the King’s lackeys… and… well, he was, the next day, found lifeless and thrown in the river.”

Celeste’s eyes widen in horror, her hand flying to her mouth. I nod grimly before continuing.

“Ever since that day, I did everything I could to warn the people who were in danger, let it be in the hands of His Majesty, or nature devastating our homes and crops. But… The King hunted me down. His knights slaughtered my mother and my brother, then set my house ablaze. They searched for me, day and night, telling the other lands and their villagers that I had made a deal with the devil himself, and made sure that whatever I had warned them about, I was to make it true; I was to destroy them myself…  They called me a witch.”

I realize that my hands are trembling, knuckles turning white as I grip the spoon. Celeste hesitates before placing her hand on my vacant hand as a means of sympathy.

As I am about to speak, my surroundings suddenly become distorted, and a familiar ache began to grow at the back of my head.

I fall off the stool in pain, dropping my spoon and spilling the contents of the bowl all over the floor and myself. Celeste is by my side in an instant, her hand on my shoulder. The moment I look up at her, my vision goes white, and I suddenly have a hazy view of the front of this hut.

Hugh can be seen showing a boy how to start a fire with flint and a knife in front of the next door’s sheep pen, and a few other villagers and their children playing around the pit. Before the bearded man is able to tell the boy to try it in front of the fire pit in the middle of the village, the boy strikes the edge of the flint with the blade. Sparks fly and catch on the protruding straw around the fence, and almost instantly, the pen is aflame, burning not only its neighboring huts, but the boy and Hugh, as well.

I gasp as I come back to my senses, the world around me becoming distinct. Celeste is still by my side, clutching my shoulders.

I stand abruptly.

“Where is your husband?” I ask emphatically, my hands flying to grasp her arms. “He's in danger. You are in danger. This entire village will burn!”

“What in the gods'—? He had most likely returned by no—“

Without any more hesitation, I bolt out of the hut and find that the boy I saw in my vision is asking Hugh to teach him how to start a fire, and he is given a small knife and some flint. I call out to them, making a run for it and grabbing the bearded man by the back of his tunic.

“Oh, what ho, lass! How fare thee? Are you alright?” he questions, turning to face me.

“Hugh, whatever you do, do not teach the boy how to start a fire!”

“How did you know, lass? Ah, this is nothing! He knows what he will be dealing with!“

“Pray thee, Hugh! This place will go up in flames if—“

As I was warning him, the boy had already struck the flint, and the sparks fly everywhere. As I’ve foreseen, it catches on the protruding straw around the fence and is set alight. I grab the boy and shove Hugh away from the now-lit pen, watching the fire crawl further into the hut in horror. I fall onto my bottom, feeling the heat of the ever-growing fire.

Suddenly, 'tis extinguished, and I realize that Celeste had doused the fire in water, a wooden bucket in her hands. The brunette leaps over the fence, dropping the bucket and stamping out the remaining embers on the straw.

I stare in awe, and she meets my gaze.

“She was right,” she mutters. “This village was going to burn down tonight because of an accident… And she saw it all… Hugh, we almost died!”

With a choked sob, she goes over the fence, and her husband meets her in an embrace. The realization in his eyes say it all. The villagers gather around the extinguished pen, and I spot the boy’s parents enveloping him in a hug. He drops the flint and knife, and starts bawling. I stare back at the lightly-charred wooden fence and straw, thinking how terrible it would have been if I had not arrived today…

An entire civilization would have been eradicated, and the other lands would know nothing about it.

I get off of the ground and dust off my gown. Celeste runs to me, wrapping her arms around my torso as she tackles me, almost making me lose balance.

“I am glad everybody is alright,” I whisper, returning her hug.

“Gramercy, Rosalynd… You saved us!”

“How did you know, lass?" asks Hugh. “We all could have been bacon by the end of the night.”

I let go of Celeste and tell him my story. Everyone in the village listened in as well, and believed that my gift from the gods is a power I will use for good.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

I have lived with Celeste and Hugh for many months now, assisting them with their crops, cooking, and occasionally, fishing. 'Tis the least I could do for them after they’ve taken me in with open arms…

The village thrived more thanks to my foresight; I forewarn the people of disastrous happenings, and they are able to do what they can to protect their resources. I’m living a peaceful life on a peaceful island;

I finally felt safe…

Until today.

I am assisting Hugh with fishing today, untangling the spare net in his rowboat. From afar, Hugh spots a ship, which was rare for him and the other villagers to see.

“I wonder where that old cog is heading,” he thinks out loud, hauling another net of fish into the rowboat. It takes us moments to realize t'was moving towards the island.

I gulp.

“Hugh, we must return to shore,” I state, the exterior of the ship giving me a sense of dread. “I do not think whoever is in that vessel is coming for a visit.”

We row back to shore and hop off the rowboat with the caught fish in tow. I leave Hugh to his business the moment we near his hut.

I stay indoors, fearing the worst, when I suddenly hear the faint, familiar ringing of a bell of a town crier.

Who are these people?

Have they found me?

By the gods, why now?

My breathing becomes ragged, and I get a sudden glimpse of blood. The back of my head begins to ache, and I’m about to foresee something when the booming voice of a man echoes throughout the village. It startles me and sends chills down my spine, and I am only able to obscurely see a dark sky, blood on the sand, and indistinct glimpses of children in fine silk and jewelry…

Whoever arrived on the island… will become a noble?

“Surrender the witch, and you will not have to suffer the wrath of His Majesty,” a man announces. I take a peek out of the small window to find a knight unsheathing his sword in front of an undaunted Hugh. I sneak towards the door and hear him speak in a gruff tone, venom coating every word that slips from his lips.

“We have no witch, sir. Leave, for you are unwelcome.”

I hear movement, then the clanking of metal. Panicked, I barge out the door and find the knight had knocked Hugh down, surrounded by more men in armor.

“There you are, you wretched woman,” he exclaims indignantly when he sees me, advancing towards me. “You will pay for your crimes!”

I try to escape, but he brusquely grabs me by the arm and throws me next to Hugh, who is being restrained.

“You will pay the price for your actions, for the death you have caused in our kingdom! And to make things direr, you’ve made these innocent people believe that you are a good soul!”

“You—”

“Speak no more, witch,” he bellows, pointing the tip of his blade towards my chest. I hold my breath. “Your reign of terror will finally come to an end. Remarkable, I must say, for you’ve convinced these people of your good-heartedness with your fairytale backstory.”

“T’was not untrue! You slayed those people; you caused their deaths!”

“And I will cause yours,” he whispers to me, one of his men restraining me with rope as he roughly grips my chin. “Come, men! I would like to give these people a show they shall never forget.”

The knight grabs my hair and painfully drags me towards the middle of the village and next to Hugh. It appears that they’ve caught Celeste as well, who struggles against another knight’s hold.

“Good day, peasants! This is what a traitorous fiend looks like,” he yells, shoving me to the ground and walking in front of Hugh. “She plans to slay you all, you fools! She will sacrifice you all to the being who gave her this power!”

The villagers all stare and gawk amidst their murmurs; some try to come forward to help, but hesitate, for these knights will undoubtedly cause them pain.

I cannot blame them for being afraid.

“Why, she’s even got your leader and his wife under her spell!”

“Stop this,” I exclaim, attempting to put a stop to his lies. “'Tis me you want, these people mean no harm!“

“That means they do,” he interrupts, marching back to me and yanking my head back with a gauntleted hand. “You want me to end your misery so your subordinates can finish the dirty work for you, vile enchantress!”

I hear the villagers murmur again.

Only this time, it is in convinced agreement.

  

“Pray thee, I beg you, sir, do not do them any harm,” Hugh screams. I see his tears rolling down his cheeks. “Take me instead, she and Celeste have done nothing but good!”

Unwavering, the knight gestures to one of his men. Another knight's sword plunges through Hugh’s chest, blood soaking his tunic and dripping down his chest. The same is done to Celeste—

slain in cold blood.

I can only stare in shock.

“Any last words, witch?” he utters, facing me for the last time, blade against my throat. My eyes sting with tears and my chest burns with rage.

“Mark my words, wicked man, your blood will be spilt across this land,” I begin, noticing the sky suddenly turn grey.

“In the years to come, your lineage will crawl, the result of your power will be your downfall;

The eyes of mercy will turn away from you, abhorrence burning bright and true—

On a night of a full moon, three warriors shall rise. All with one goal, they will become allies…

Eradicate this system through and through, you must save the land, and begin anew!

Let these words form my prophecy before I die by the hands of thee!”

With my final words, the blade is pulled back, slitting my throat. As I meet my end in a shower of blood, lightning crackles beyond the darkening clouds, large droplets of water pelting the ground.

The rain ravages the village.

“This is the power of the witch, citizens, look what was brought upon thine! Bow to me, Augustus Davidson, your savior.”

gramercy – “thank you”; pray thee – “please”;  kirtle, chemise – “types of clothing worn during the Middle Ages”; plash – “noise made by splashing”; abhorrence – “hatred”