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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“She’s dead.” Gaelon muttered to himself as he examined the body. He had been saying this same phrase over and over for the last two hours. In the space of those two hours there had been one soft shudder from the body and so Gaelon just could’t be sure. Once, he even thought he felt the faintest hint of breath.

The figure lying before him held a beauty none could match. Her soft, supple body contrasted the hard wooden table she was lying on. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes remained open, staring straight ahead. Apart from the slight shudder there was no sign of life. Except for the eyes… something wasn’t right about her eyes. They weren’t empty like a normal dead body, but how can one be alive with no breath and no pulse?

Witchery that’s how. At least that was the only logical conclusion Gaelon could come up with.

The room itself was eerie and dark, adding to Gaelon’s growing discomfort. The only light came from the two torches that flanked the doorway. In addition, the dungeon reeked of rat piss, musty mold, and the smell of some recently deceased rotting carcass— an oversized rat in the corner no doubt. It was unpleasant to say the least.

To be honest, Gaelon wanted nothing more than to be out of this unpleasant situation and into the light of day. He didn’t want to be trapped in a room with a Witch, especially not a lifeless one. But he also couldn’t afford to leave her here while he left to alert the Magistrate. What if? What if the Witch wasn’t dead and the minute he left, she up and left?

Gaelon stepped back and paused for moment — unsure of what to do and also unwilling to take his eyes off the rare beauty before him. Too busy admiring the Witch (one could stare now that she was dead) he forgot where he was for a moment and inhaled deeply. The vile stench assaulted his nostrils causing tears to sting his eyes. He gagged and spat, then turned to the boy cowering in the corner.

“Come here, boy.” Gaelon ordered.

Up to this point Hunter had tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Twice he had tried to escape. Twice Gaelon had knocked him upside the head. It was the way of things in Andor.

Hunter took a hesitant step forward.

~

You’re probably wondering how in the world Hunter came to be in the castle dungeon. Of course, I know you know it was Hunter who discovered the Witch earlier that very morning. Incidentally, while running about the town screaming, not one soul believed a word out of his mouth. The entire town just assumed he was up to his same old shenanigans.

“Go home!” they yelled. And “Not today, Hunter.” And “Please, just leave us all be.”

I assure you, no one was in the mood.

But Hunter persisted, his face white as a ghost until finally he ran straight to the castle and smack into Gaelon, one of the King’s most trusted guards.

“You’ve– got to– believe me– Sir—” Hunter panted between breaths. “I seen her– with my own— eyes– The Witch– Town Hall– Come–” He pulled at his Gaelon’s arm. Eyes big as saucers. Face earnest.

Normally Gaelon would have ignored the boy. Maybe even given his ears a good boxin’ before sending him off with a swift kick while laughing with the other guards. Today, however, there was sincere and genuine fear in the boy’s expression and so he followed.

“I tell you boy, if you are wasting my time there will be hell to pay.” Gaelon barked through gritted teeth.

“I swear– Please– Come– You’ll see–” Hunter yanked again, pulling the guard in the direction of Town Hall.

When they arrived, true to word, the Witch sat in the exact spot she’d been during the trial— her ankles still bound in chains.

“How the Devil?” Gaelon muttered as he neared the Witch. Cautiously, he approached but waited a good long while before doing… well, anything.

“Witch.” Gaelon spoke softly, voice trembling.

The Witch remained still.

Gaelon looked at Hunter and shrugged. Hunter returned the shrug and took a step back.

Picking up a nearby stick Gaelon poked the Witch in the gut, “Hey, you there.” he hissed.

No movement.

Gaelon poked several more times just to make sure before gathering up the courage to touch her. 

“I’ll just be going, Sir.” Hunter squeaked before turning to leave. He certainly didn’t want to be around when the Witch woke up.

“Oh no you don’t, Boy.” Gaelon grabbed Hunter by the collar, pulled him back, then thrust him in front. A kind of barrier between him and the Witch. “You’re staying with me.”

At length, Gaelon heaved the Witch’s unresponsive body over his shoulder and carried her to the castle all the while making sure Hunter walked ahead.

And so that is how Hunter ended up in the castle dungeon. Starving still, with a dead Witch and a slaphappy Guard.