Witch

Jay found himself sitting on a dais, with no memory of how he got there. He looked around, finding himself in a large hall, surrounded by grand pillars. The pillars looked like they were made of ebony; they appeared to be intricately carved as well. The only lighting came from the numerous candles scattered throughout the hall.

He got to his feet a little unsteadily. The last thing he could remember was stopping with his tour bus at the oasis. Suddenly, a sand storm had come out of nowhere, and he couldn’t see anyone. Until the woman came and found him . . .

He looked back at the dais, and there she was: the same woman who had saved him. He’d been unable to get a good look at her in the storm, but now he could see her in all of her glory. Jay was dumbfounded; he had never seen a woman more beautiful than the one who sat before him. She looked like she couldn’t possibly be more than twenty - she had the world’s most perfect body. Her dark skin was flawless, her dark hair trailed down her back. She was covered in what looked like animal skins, giving her a more exotic look. But her eyes seemed somewhat at odds with the rest of her: where everything else looked young, her eyes looked ancient. Not that there were lines under them or anything. But her dark eyes looked like they had seen far more than he could imagine.

“Jay, you must be famished! I shall have Elara bring you something to eat.” she gestured at the place he had recently vacated just in front of her. “Come. Sit with me.”

Jay sat in the indicated place. “I need to thank you, for coming to save me. And if I may ask, what's your name? You know mine, but I don't know yours.”

She laughed, a light and pleasing sound to Jay’s ears. “I told you my name as I led you from the storm. But I am not surprised that you do not remember it. You may call me Jaleesa.”

It was then that Jay got his first unpleasant surprise. The girl who must be Elara entered with a tray of fruit and cheese. He went to thank her, and made the mistake of looking her in the eye. The most dead-looking pair of eyes stared back at him from a face devoid of all emotion.

“Wha....what happened to her?” he asked Jaleesa, stumbling back a bit

“Do not be alarmed. She was lost in the storm, like you were. Sadly, it was too late when I found her,” Jaleesa put a hand to his shoulder to steady him, while glancing at the girl. “I do not even know her real name.”

Jay was going to ask more, but Jaleesa stood. “I have some things to prepare. So please, enjoy the fruit. Rest here when you are finished with the food. I will join you when I am done.” And with that, she strode out of the hall, Elara at her heels.

Jay looked at the fruit; to his surprise the tray was filled with many fruit that did not grow in this part of the world. It was all quite delicious. When he finished, he did not feel like resting. He was instead curious about his hostess, so he wandered around the hall a bit, appreciating all of the carvings on the pillars, as well as the other works of art that were tastefully arrayed around the hall.

He was examining the ornate throne that Jaleesa had vacated, when he touched one of the armrests and part of the wall slid open. He jumped, then frantically tried to slide the wall back into place; all he succeeded in doing was hitting some sort of light switch that lit up the small room.

Well, I suppose a quick peek won’t make much difference, he thought, curiosity overcoming his apprehension.

The first thing he saw, as he approached the room, was the ruby. The gem was obviously the focal point of the room; it was easily the size of his fist. As soon as he stepped into the room, a voice rang out, “Just go away! Leave me alone!”

He looked around, and in the far corner huddled a shape. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.” He reached a hand to her shoulder, but jerked back in alarm as his hand passed through her. “What are you?”

She turned then, and he found himself staring at a familiar face, although this time she looked far more alive, even if she was insubstantial. “Elara?”

She looked at him blankly. “Who are you? You’re not the witch.”

“No, I’m Jay. What are you? Who did this to you?”

She stood up then, and there was no mistake about it, she was definitely Elara. “I don’t know! I don’t remember anything! Who I am, why I’m here! I won’t even remember you once you leave this room. All I can remember is,” she shrank back from him, eyes rounding in fear, “her.”

Jay spun around to find Jaleesa behind him, holding up a wickedly curved blade of silver. “Well child, I leave you alone for a few minutes, and look what happens! But what does it matter? I have hungered for 50 long years, but now, finally, I am free to feast once again!”

Jaleesa was about to advance into the room, when a voice rang out behind her, “Whoa, this is some dream! Now I’m in Africa!”

Children

"Huh?"

Azalyn gestured towards the children. "Did you not hear them?"

He turned to regard the laughing and shrieking children a bit more cautiously. "Well, from what I can tell, they’re shrieking in that annoying kid way. Hardly anything to be alarmed about."

She glared at him. "Did you not hear them mention a witch?"

"No."

"Honestly Lubic, it’s your job to pay attention to these things!" She stared at him expectantly; he stared blankly back. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Aren’t you going to go and do something?"

"Umm, should I?"

She sighed in exasperation. "At least go and ask them about it."

He turned to regard the children a bit uncertainly, then glanced back at Azalyn. Her midnight eyes were flashing a mixture of impatience and annoyance as she stood, hands on hips, waiting.

"Alright already!" he turned and trudged towards the children. There were at least five of them, both boys and girls, playing some version of tag. He approached the nearest one, a boy of about eight. "Hey kid! Wait up a second!"

The boy turned, peering up at him with big innocent brown eyes from under a mop of brown hair. "My mom told me not to talk to strangers."

"Don’t worry, child," Azalyn came to Lubic’s rescue. "We just wanted to ask you about the game you’re playing. It sounded very interesting. Did it involve a witch?"

The boy peered up at Azalyn, deciding at once that she was more trustworthy than Lubic. "Yes! Sky over there’s the witch!" he pointed at a little girl who was chasing down one of her friends. "If she catches you, then she eats you and then you’re the witch!"

"Wow. What an imaginative game! Did you come up with it?" Azalyn asked as she knelt down to the boy’s height.

"No ma’am. We all did. We were all dreaming about it. About the witch, I mean. So we thought it would be a fun game to play."

"All of you were dreaming about witches?"

"Well, not Frankie over there. He never dreams. But all the rest of us, we all had the same dream!"

"Well, thank you. Have fun playing!" Azalyn straightened up as the boy ran off to rejoin his friends. She turned to Lubic. "Well now. Looks like you have a witch to catch."

"Wait a minute! Just because some kids were dreaming about some witch, now I have to do something about it?"

Azalyn’s glance flicked upwards; she looked like she was uttering a silent prayer or curse. "Lubic, has no one told you anything? The children are more in tune with what’s going on in your world, with what’s threatening it. They’re your best source of information!"

"But . . . a witch?"

"What, have you never dealt with a witch before?"

"Well, no."

She sighed once again. "Alright, I will help you then. Witches are usually straightforward. Unless they have made a bargain with you, or hold some other power over you."

Azalyn

The next afternoon, Lubic was jogging through the local park, killing time before heading over to Stevens’ for a poker night. He headed through the peaceful back paths for awhile, but eventually found himself on the busier main path. Coming upon a street vendor, he decided to stop and get a drink of water before slowly making his way home.

He sat down on one of the hard wooden benches, observing the comings and goings of everyone else who was out to enjoy the beautiful spring day. He was a bit surprised that there were a lot less people than you’d normally expect to be out on such a fine spring afternoon.

“Greetings Spacelord. I am Azalyn Minara.”

Lubic jumped off of his seat and spun around. Before him stood a beautiful alien woman. Her pale green skin shone in the sunlight, reflecting off of her scales; her gills fluttered at her neck, barely visible beneath her strawberry blonde hair. She was humanoid, standing with her hands on her hips, her long fingers splayed enough to reveal the webbing between them.

“Holy shit! What are you? What are you doing here?”

“Spacelord, I am Azalyn Minara, Starlord of Imezza. I am here to pledge my allegiance to you.”

Lubic stared at her, speechless. “Wha?”

She glared at him with eyes the colour of midnight. “You put the call out, and I have answered. I am here to pledge my allegiance to you, Spacelord.”

“Spacelord?”

It was then that Lubic noticed that they were attracting a fair sized crowd. He turned to face everyone else. “Ummm, nothing to see here folks! She’s just like you guys! Move along!”

He shooed the crowd away, and to his amazement, they all quietly dispersed. He glanced at the alien woman before him, then back to where the crowd had been. “Huh.”

“Thank you Spacelord. Their stares were rather rude.”

“Look, I think you have the wrong person. I’m no Spacelord.” He looked again to where the crowd had been. “Did you think that was kind of weird?”

“What was, Spacelord?”

“Well, usually a crowd like that doesn’t just depart without a word. Kind of creepy.”

“Spacelord, you commanded, and they obeyed.” She stared at him, somewhat incredulously as he gaped. “You really don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?”

“I told you, I’m not a Spacelord.” He studied the alien woman before him. “Okay, I get it. This is a dream. I’m probably asleep on that bench over there.”

She ignored him. “But if you don’t know what I’m talking about, how could you put out the call?”

“Look, lady. I’m not a Spacelord! I don’t know what you are, and I sure as hell didn’t call you here!”

“If you didn’t, then who did? And let me assure you, you are a Spacelord.”

“Stop calling me Spacelord! Look, if you’re going to keep chatting to me, at least call me by my name.”

“You didn’t introduce yourself.”

“Well, I’m Lubic. Lubic Murray.”
She took his hand. Her palm felt smooth, and besides the webbing, her grip was similar to a human’s. “Well met, Lubic Murray.”

“Just call me Lubic.”

A couple of children ran by, laughing as they shrieked about a witch. Azalyn studied the children, then turned to regard Lubic. “Shouldn’t you be looking into that?”

Family

Lubic took the long way home, rather angry that the attractive blonde was a quack, and that she’d made him late for his family dinner. Of course, driving the long way home would make him later, and his grandmother even more upset with him, but he thought it wise to calm down a bit first.

He finally pulled into his driveway, leaving room for his brother’s Del Sol and his sister-in-law’s ML63 to get by his lowly Protégé. Lubic could almost smell the scent of lilacs before he got out of his car. His grandmother had planted a number of trees in the front yard years ago. The trees were large enough now to obscure the house itself; when they were in bloom, like now, it was difficult to tell what colour the bricks were underneath the mask of violet and green.

During the heat of summer, the front yard was an even wilder array of colour thanks to the extensive flower beds Mary planted every year. Though Lubic hadn’t the heart to tell her, he was convinced his grandmother must be colour blind; her selection of colour seemed even more outlandish with each passing year.

He entered the front door and kicked off his boots. “Hi everyone, sorry I’m –”

“Where have you been?” his grandmother yelled at him as she came around the corner. “You know tonight’s our family supper! And being late because of some blonde hussy!”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Lubic kissed her cheek, mollifying her temper a little bit.

“I’ve warned you about pretty blondes before, Lubic!” they stepped into the dining room where the rest of the family was seated, pretending not to listen. “Your father fell in love with one, and look what happened to him! She left him and he passed away from a broken heart!”

“Well, you don’t have to worry, grandma,” Lubic assured her. “This one was a quack who I hope I never see again!”

Mary seemed in better spirits after this declaration, so the family settled down to eat. Lubic caught Ryan’s eye; Ryan shot him an apologetic look. He’d obviously tried to reason with their grandmother, but she’d been livid when he mentioned that the woman who had detained her younger grandson was a blonde.

Just after Ryan’s mother had passed away, their father had met and fallen in love with a beautiful blonde woman. She became pregnant not long after they met, but mysteriously disappeared after Lubic was born. Their father passed away from a twice broken heart not long after. And so it had fallen to Mary to raise the newborn Lubic and his five year old brother.

Their family had been just the three of them, until Ryan married Alyssa, who had taken his heart by storm. The fiery red head had been a welcome addition to their family, as was their son, Jason. But despite all of their happiness, Mary was still a bitter woman, obsessed with the loss of her son.

Luckily for everyone, Mary seemed in better spirits, at least until she answered the door about an hour later. She hadn’t even said a word, just slammed the door and returned to her seat, tight-lipped and obviously angry with whatever she had seen. Everyone else wisely changed the topic.

*

Mikala stood stunned after the old hag had slammed the door in her face.

What is wrong with these people? She was about to knock on the door again, but thought better of it, remembering the hateful look on the other woman’s face. Perhaps it’s time to try something else.