Role

Chapter 3

The Witch of the Forest was a strange looking creature. Perhaps once she had
been young and beautiful, but now she looked disheveled and unkempt. Yet her
voice retained the timber of youth and strength, and when she spoke to
Oaneewke it carried both compassion and authority. For several months the
Witch instructed her in the properties of various herbs and roots, how to
make remedies and how to draw on the power of the earth. Oaneewke did not
speak of the visions that plagued her, and the Witch did not ask, though she
knew full well the gossip surrounding her apprentice. It was not until one of
those visions involved the Witch herself, that the subject could no longer be
avoided. They were walking through the foothills and had just past through a
canyon leading north. They were looking for ashwagandha, potent herb used to
cure certain toxins, and as they passed the end of the canyon Oaneewkes
vision became cloudy, before her eyes a strange mist arose surrounding
everything and deadening all sound. Taking a step forward Oaneewke feels
something pulling at her robe and as she turns the mist parts. There
clutching the hem of her robe is what remains of the Witch, her hands
entangled in the fabric of Oaneewkes garment. The arms, the face, the torso,
are blackened and appear stretched, like the Witchs whole body had been
pulled, by some terrible force. Her face is locked in a horrifying scream and
the body is amputated at the hips as though by a great sword. Oaneewkes
screams and buried her face in her hands, sobbing. What is it child? come
the Witchs concerned voice. Opening her eyes, the young woman sees her
mentor before her, unharmed, a troubled gaze fixed upon her apprentice. What
did you see? she questions. Oaneewke can only sob.