Talk To Dragons

Well beyond what she was willing to tolerate, Violet made her way out of the university with haste, Engel running along behind her. Adam and Steven were trying to keep up with the little witch, comically having a hard time.

"Please, just see if you can read it now," Adam called out to her.

"What more could happen?" Steven questioned the witch, very obviously out of shape. "Learning what lies hidden within the pages of that book could be monumental!"

"I'm not listening!" Violet replied, quickening her pace. "Just toss the book down a well or something!"

Out of the grand building and onto the grounds, Violet could see the gates of her freedom ahead of her. She and Engel flew by the many students among the greenery of the open courtyard with the two a.d.u.l.t men at the limits of their stamina. With the towering buildings on either side and the cobblestone walkway leading them, the open exit was the light at the end of their struggle, but someone stood in their way.

Dressed in black robe and pointed hat, a witch was waiting for them. Her robe stopped at the middle of her athletic t.h.i.g.hs, revealing skin tanned from the sun. Her sleeves were longer than her hands and fell further than her knees, but her witch's hat was of appropriate size. It shielded her from the sun but left her face easily visible. She had black witch's paint over the eyes in a horizontal bar that curved downward at the ends, reaching thin blades to the bottom of her jaw.

The witch at the gates scowled in Violet's direction and raised her covered hands up towards them. Seeing the danger, Violet threw herself to the grass on her left with Engel following her lead. Not a second later, the fists of the witch in black raced by where they had just been and struck Adam and Steven in the c.h.e.s.t, flooring them immediately.

The witch had extended her arms out as if they were made of rubber and after they made contact with an object they flailed and whipped about dangerously. Her stretched appendages bounced against objects and people to devastating effect, tossing students with heavy blunt strikes and carving gashes into the ground.

An alarm bell began to ring into the courtyard, signaling the witch to reel in her hands to defend herself as armored soldiers rushed out of buildings and in her direction. The witch in black looked at Violet for a moment before turning to run at great speed. She was lost in the outside traffic of the city in seconds. The university guards gave chase but Violet knew they would fail.

"What just happened?" Engel questioned. "Why did that witch attack you? Who was she?"

"I don't know," Violet answered. "I didn't recognize her, but I knew what she was going to do, so I dodged. We need to read that book."

"Why do we need to do that? Shouldn't we just get out of here?"

"If I'm being hunted for some reason, I want to know if that book can help us. Or if it's the reason. I don't know! I don't know what's going on!"

Once again in the medical ward, now for the sake of Adam and Steven, Violet sat on a chair across the room from the injured men with the closed Wokren book on her l.a.p. Her human pursuers had severe bruising to deal with and perhaps some cracked ribs, but were otherwise fine. Although they were groaning a great deal.

"Maybe she was after the book," Steven suggested. "Perhaps she could feel its presence and came to retrieve it."

"Are you sure you didn't recognize her?" Adam asked, heavily disabled in his bed from the injury.

"I have no idea who she is," Violet answered. "I only knew what she was about to do for some reason. I can't call upon these bits of knowledge they just come to me the moment I need them."

"Well, at any rate, can you read the book?" Steven asked.

Violet opened the old leather and looked at the first page. It looked to have the title of the work and the author, but the language was still beyond her knowledge.

"No, I can't," Violet said. "Wait. Wait, I can."

As she stared at the page, the lettering blurred and changed from Wokren to English wherever her focus was currently held. The ink faded and was reapplied before her eyes as if someone were rewriting for her sake.

"Varaniestrev," Violet read. "I know what this is. It's an old witch's handbook. It's for handing down the dark arts to successors."

"The dark arts?" Steven questioned.

"Yes," Violet replied. "This was written by Bassa Frae. She was one of the seven witches of the fabled Plague Age."

Violet raised her eyes from the book and in great frustration slammed her fists onto the pages.

"Why do I know that!" she yelled.