Welcome, you’ve stumbled into The Tori Story Series. If this is your first visit to this realm you might want to catch up.

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Andor sat in the corner of the room directly across from the entrance that in moments the guards of the King would, no doubt, lead the Witch through. He tried to remain inconspicuous, which I tell you wasn’t hard to do, as the entire crowd was focused on none other than the Witch.

“There she is!” A harsh whisper shrieked at such a volume one could hardly classify it a whisper. Except that it was a whisper, so determined by the amount of spittle that flew out of the speaker’s mouth.

A wave of commotion shot through the crowd. 

“She’s here!” “It’s her!” they exalted and for once the information relayed was correct.

The guards violently shoved the Witch through the door. The short chains binding her ankles allowed her little movement, and so in an effort to steady herself the Witch tried, but failed, to take a large step to catch her balance. Instead she tripped over the chains and landed face first into the dirt floor.

The crowd gasped, continued to watch, eyes peeled as the Witch struggled to pull herself up. When she finally righted herself the crowd erupted in laughter.

“QUIET! QUIET!” the magistrate ordered, but to no avail. The crowd ignored him completely and continued laughing hysterically. It was a little over the top. 

In the crowd’s defense, they were exceedingly nervous and Tori was quite a sight. She’d fallen into a watery patch of filth. When she rose up her face was covered with grime and slime. There was no telling if the wet, gooey substance on the Tori’s face was human or animal, feces or mud, phlegm or spit. Perhaps maybe all of it mixed together. Whatever it was, I assure you – it was not good. 

The Witch spat; black refuse flying out of her mouth. 

“Scheiße!” She murmured under her breath, in a foreign tongue unknown to the townspeople. 

Silence.

This single word hushed the crowd. A hush so deafening the very souls in the outskirts heard it. The entire village paused, pigeon livered.

True unadulterated fear crept into the hearts of the people. For though the magistrate held great power in this town, even he couldn’t make the crowd follow the simple order to be quiet. But the Witch? Oh the power she wielded! So much that she need only utter quietly, under her breath, one single solitary foreign word and the crowd instantly grew still. 

Had she just uttered a vile curse?

Do you remember Mary? You know, the one who leeched Ben? Well, just shy of the utterance and perhaps in an effort to help the Witch (though when it comes to Mary one can never be sure) Mary grabbed a bucket and filled it with water. She might have meant to offer it to Tori to clean her face but the vile word was spoken in the exact moment that Mary approached the Witch.

All at once Mary’s bravery evaporated and the kind offering she intended suddenly felt offensive in her hands. She tossed the water, bucket and all, toward the Witch.

 Alas, Tori’s back was toward the girl, therefore she did not notice the bucket flying toward her. But she did feel it. Indeed, she felt the hard thump of the wooden bucket as it smacked into her left shoulder blade and ricocheted off her skull with a dull thud. She might have also felt the slick, slimy liquid splash up into her face and run down her neck but it’s too hard to tell, because immediately the Witch shrieked and fell to the floor. A crumpled unmoving heap.

“Is she gone?” One small shaky voice asked.

What felt like an eternity passed. Eventually, the crumpled heap rose and the Witch appeared once again before the crowd. Later as the story was recounted and retold the Witch disappeared. Where she went no one knows but as the story goes, the entire town slept as if in a trance for 100 years until she returned. 

Who comes up with these stories? Hunter probably, he was there that day. But we all know Hunter is a teller of tall tales and that’s not what happened at all. If you ever travel to Andor, however, you are bound to hear the story. I know I did.

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“Come forward.” The Magistrate ordered, trying to regain control, hoping beyond hope that the Witch would comply. For from his vantage point he could see the guards make their not-so-subtle retreat. He witnessed, as did everyone else in the room, each guard stepping back for fear of being too near whatever curse might rain down because of that very frightening foreign word.

Dazed and confused, Tori paused, trying to regain her senses, and glanced around the room.

“COME FORWARD!” The Magistrate trembled in his shoes. He meant to roar but instead the words shrilled.

Shocked, Tori took a hesitant step forward. 

A collective sigh rang throughout the room, perhaps the most notable escaping the pale pink lips of the Magistrate. Had Tori had her wits about her, she might have simply walked out of the building. In that moment of fear and uncertainty I doubt anyone would have stopped her. 

Indeed though, the spell of uncertainty was now broken and the guards were no longer paralyzed– the Witch had, after all, complied with the order of the Magistrate. Power shifted. Order restored.

For good measure the guards shoved her forward yet again only less forceful this time until she stood in the middle of the meeting house.

“Order in the court! Order in the court!” The magistrate pounded his gavel against the shoddily assembled podium. He cleared his throat for affect. Then, waving his arms about, he tried to continue but instead the gavel flew from his hand and landed directly into the eye of the guard beside him. 

This caused quite a stir. 

It was a few moments more before the stir settled and the Magistrate could continue (rather shakily, I might add). ‘Here stands the accused. Before us. Here in this room. We, this people, those that are gathered today for the sole and express purpose, to presently and thoroughly determine the fate of the Witch. This here Witch that stands before us in this place in which we gather. For the express and sole purpose… Did I say that already? Yes, I did. Anyway for the express and sole purpose of being gathered here to determine as was before mentioned here now in this here my court the fates thereof. We this people do stand…” 

The magistrate being pompous and arrogant knew those listening were ignorant. He, not being far removed from ignorance himself, spoke many words and repeated himself often, in hopes that he might sound a trifle smarter than he actually was. That and he was indeed very nervous. Maybe even terrified. Therefore, he continued on like that for a count of five full minutes.

Tori rubbed her aching head, discovered the nasty lump that was already beginning to form and sighed heavily. 

This trial surely would not go well.

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