Reasons To Become A Witch

Reasons To Become A Witch

The next day...
 

Stretching, Malikah breathed in the fresh air of the place she decided to call her home. “We're here. Welcome to the Kō Empire.”

Enigma staggered around unsteadily. “I hate travelling by ship.” She held her stomach to prove her discomfort.

Patting the younger girl's shoulder, Malikah playfully shepherded her friend towards the exit. “I'm sure you'll be able to find something here to take your mind off things.” As soon as she'd said that, what lay ahead showed itself to the pair standing just above the ramp.

A row of soldiers lined either side of the street wearing full uniform and standing to attention while a short man waited to the right of the board-walk. “His Excellency, The First Prince, is expecting you.” Folding his upper half, the assistant gestured with an upturned palm to a intricately detailed carriage.

Open mouthed, Enigma raised both eyebrows comically at the new transport. “What a welcome.”

“Tch. I bet this is his doing.” The ashen girl tutted  and started stomping off down the lined, wide path. “If he knew I was coming all the way here, he could have just came to me instead.” She rambled on with herself and she exerted more force underfoot.

“Aye, are we not getting in that?” Enigma pointed at the four men holding up the wooden transport and the dejected looking man scampering close behind them.

Malikah glared over her shoulder and shook her head adamantly. “I'm not getting in a box.”

“But look at all those stairs.” The younger girl nodded up ahead at the countless stone steps.

Coughing a laugh, Malikah teased. “A Fanalis is complaining about physical labour? You really got complacent when you were in Reim, didn't you?” Pausing, the slightly shorter woman jutted her thumb at their entourage. “If it bothers you so much, you get in it.”

“Pft~ I can't have you're weak human body outdoing me.” Elbowing the female beside her, Enigma grumbled. “I'll walk.”

 

Malikah and Enigma had managed to make it to the top of the three hundred plus steps but they both looked a little worse for wear. Wheezing and panting like they'd just ran a marathon, the pair took a moment to try and compose themselves before venturing further into the grand palace.

The sound of flat shoes padding behind them caused the duo to glance back. Folded paper fan in one hand and rolled up scroll in the other, the man who had greeted them seemed unaffected by climbing the mountain as he stood with a look of distaste. “That is why I brought the carriage.” Pointing his fan at and then past the girls, the man no older than twenty five shook his head. “You'll have to clean yourselves up before being in the presence of His Excellency.”

Raising one eyebrow in defiance, Enigma brought a fist up to chest height. “Oh, is that s---”

Malikah tugged on the back of her friend's top lightly and discreetly shook her head, giving a sign not to argue over the matter.

“Fine. I wanted a bath anyway.” The younger of the pair turned her nose up. “I stink of booze and sea water and I'm starting to feel like a sailor.” She scowled, obviously affected by her current state.

Scrunching his face up, the royal assistant pulled his hands into his sleeves and brought them up to his chest as he stood poised. “This way.” He set off inside.

No sooner had the trio gotten inside the palace, they were engulfed in in flickering candle light and a heavy yet pleasant scent of sandalwood and agarwood incense. Cool marble flooring and walls adorning explicit scenes had been polished to the limit, allowing any passer-by to see their own reflection. Many artefacts such as vases, folding screens and traditional paintings decorated the hall of the front entrance while a couple of guards performed their shift of watching the doors.

Enigma was trying to absorb the unusual sights when two handmaids came into view, their pastel pink gowns skimming the floor as they tottered along gracefully. Getting down onto their knees, the duo folded their hands in front of them neatly and then bowed until their foreheads touched the marble.

The Fanalis gawked at the extremity. The whole thing made her feel utterly uncomfortable. No matter how close to death she was, she would never lower her head like that to anyone, let alone a stranger. Could this be what he was going through? A sure feeling of irritation and anger gripped her and she was brimming along the edge of voicing such thought but an interruption cut her off.

“This way, M'Ladies.”

Leaning her head in closer to her friend while her eyes remained ahead, Malikah warned the girl. “Keep yourself under control.”

“But---”

“They're not slaves.” She cut in to calm the Fanalis down before she got too heated over the subject.

The younger woman shrunk back a bit at the fact her friend could apparently read her mind.

Stopping just after the handmaid's opening a door, Malikah glanced up at her partner. “Please don't blow off here.”

 

A huge tub big enough for at least ten people with room to spare had been filled to the rim with steaming water and delicately scented oils. Similarly to the entrance hall, this medium sized space had also been lit with multiple candles, although these ones were hidden in red lanterns, giving the room a warm glow. Both the excessive steam, the glimmering red hued light and the smoke coming from Malikah's pipe made the atmosphere hazy. Both girls lounged back, soaking up the experience that was able to relax them despite their destination.

“What are you planning? For you to be tied to a place like this...” Enigma suddenly broke the silence in wonder about the truth behind her friend's motives.

Not bothering to open her eyes, Malikah continued to puff on her vice. “Are you starting to think me suspicious?”

“I've always thought of you as suspicious.” The younger girl swished the the rose petals dancing along the waters surface.

“It's not really surprising, seeing as I've never told you about my past.” Head hanging back over the edge of the bath, the older woman mumbled as she pulled her arms back and rested the tips of her elbows on the same perimeter.

“Then tell me now.”

Peeking out of one eye, Malikah made a comical expression. “I hardly have enough time to tell you twenty one years of life stories in one bath sitting.”

Sitting up a little, Enigma stared at the female she was sure that was messing with her. “Start at the beginning. We can finish it off later.”

With the roll of her neck, the older female lifted her leg up to see the fiery glow cast over the slick limb. “Did that scene earlier really bother you that much?”

“What do you think?”

With that, Malikah sat up for the first time. “There's only one person that knows everything about me, and for good reason. Are you sure you're ready to hear what I have to say?” Eyes narrowed down, just like whenever she was about to do something dangerous.

 

Eleven years ago - A small island off the North-East coast of the Tenzan Plateau.

A midday overcast light filtered in from the skylight of the packed temple. People shrouded in matching robes prayed aloud as in unison as incense burned. The group at the top tier of the alter seemed to be in some sort of disarray, but that wasn't proven until a crack resounded throughout the building as a hand connected with the marred child's face already damp and blotchy with tears.

“Going against your fate is forbidden!” Releasing the fist of hair which the man had held caused the young girl to drop to her knees.

The victim knew the others were watching what was happening from under their hoods, yet they continued to chant in union, lined up like cattle in masses that filled the temple just like every other day. No matter how much she would cry or send the ones brave enough to sneak a glance at her a pleading look, no one ever did anything. They just continued to call out to their God.

What God?

Before she could mentally forsake the life she'd been given, she had been hoisted up off the alter platform, dragged down the stone steps and out of the holy building.

“Go and reflect on what you've done.” The man who had ushered her out gave a shove against her shoulder blade, sending her face down into the dirt. “His Holiness will be wanting to see you later.” With that said, the man left.

The sound of thunder rolled across slate skies and the young girl brought the back of her hand up to her nose. 'Bust again?' Verdant eyes stung as they watched the crimson trickle over her knuckles. Pulling herself together, she set off for the place she'd been sleeping for the last five years.

A small hut out of the way from anyone else had been spared to her. Its contents held a straw mat, a bucket of murky water and her holy-wear with nothing else but dust and webs. Resting her back against the structure with a damp cloth already stained with blood in her hand, Malikah slid down the mud wall and began dabbing at the injury with the corner.

Five years ago, she had been sold to the inhabitants of this small island by her parents. They had found out about the quality of her magoi and shipped her off for a measly sum before they joyfully left as quickly as they had came without so much as saying goodbye or even taking a second glance.

As if some sort of animal, the High Priest had branded her just below her left eye with prominent ebony ink. An odd cross shape that had short flat left and upper legs, while pointed legs of the right and lower ones spread out, almost nearing the full length of her eye and stopping just short of being level with her nose.

Day in, day out, she was told to pray and ask their native God for power by using her magoi  as an offering. She didn't even know what she was supposed to be praying to, as every time she had asked, she had been beat down and told not to concern her 'dirty self' with it. What would follow was being left with the High Priest. She hated it: She hated them all, but most of all, she hated him.

A corrupt old man so wrapped up in whatever it was that was going on that he couldn't have even had a shred of humanity left. What's worse is, that they all followed blindly like sheep. Not a single person would ask what or why the rituals were performed and Malikah didn't know whether it was from fear or whether they were all just as crazy as each other.

She was sick of it. She was sick of beating stuck for wondering, she was sick of the way people looked at her, and most of all, she was sick of that creepy old man putting his hands on her.

That evening, like she had been informed, she had been called for by the High Priest and just like routine, he had sent his higher-up's away and strictly told them not to come back for a good two hours.

Items of gold and pure silks had been given by clansmen, nearby islanders and even civilians from the mainland in order to get favour from their God. There was hardly room to move in the relatively large home of the leader, yet he still kept his throne plush with throws and cushions from foreign lands.

As soon as he'd laid eyes on the young girl, long cracked nails scratched roughly at the sagging skin of his sunken cheek. Wagging the index finger of his other hand left no room for the girl to compromise. Shuffling forward, down the Persian blue rug, Malikah held her head low in order to not meet her master's lecherous eyes already well under-way with scanning her waterlogged figure.

“Child, you still deny our teachings?”

“I just w---”

In an instant, the High Priest had used his staff to smash the girl across the face. “Don't speak unless asked to!” He shook with fury at what he would call lack of manners. “Take off your clothes.”

“But...” Peering up with a hand plastered over where she'd been stuck, the young girl shook with horror at the figure looming over her.

Shadow casting out everything but widened bloodshot eyes and rotten grin, the High Priest reached out for the single piece of cloth covering Malikah before tearing it clean off. “What pretty skin...” Dropping the slip of fabric, the man slammed the girl's face against the floor while his other hand restrained her right wrist and his tongue traced over the few white flecks of sporadic scarring across her upper shoulders.

Gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut so tight she was sure the pressure would blind her, the sensation of saliva dripping onto her skin and going cold made her shudder in disgust.

“I thought you would have learned by now, but...It looks like I'll have to punish you again.”

She could feel the amount of pressure change as he shifted around and was able hear the sound of his clothing being taken off and hitting the floor. Before she could realise what was going on, a burn so intense wracked her frame. Scraping at the flooring with her nails made no difference as the white hot pain spread from the centre of back outwards causing her to let out an agonising shriek.

“Fire and lightening magic work wonders together, don't you think?”

Again, another, stronger wave of excruciating pain coursed through the child as she screamed. Tears and her own saliva mixed with the mud from the ground beneath her, smudging across her face as she thrashed.

“I think you're ready for your main punishment now.” A bloodied hand reached around to take her chin in order to make her meet eyes with her tormentor.
 

Updated: 17th Feb 2013 - 04:35am