The Witch and her Apprentice (books and Witch)

Sixty four. There were sixty four stones in the wall opposite Mira. Forty eight to the wall to her left and behind her another sixty four, good and solid even numbers. To her right were twenty iron bars, two of which were coated in rust. She had yet to count the stones in the floor or the ceiling of her cell; the young woman was saving that for the day when the monotony of counting the same stones and bars over and over again grew too much. That day was not today, so she simply restarted her count of the wall opposite her.

The twenty three year old looked dreadful, a shadow of her former beauty. Prison had not been kind to her, that much was for certain. Her pale flesh was dirty and unwashed, her black hair matted and clumped in an unruly mess. Her figure had become much thinner as a result of infrequent meals, her once beautiful face having become gaunt and her features more sharp. A dirty prison tunic and ripped trousers was her only clothing, not doing much too keep out the chill of the prison. Mira pulled her legs closer up against her on her cot, trying to fight back the chill. It didn’t help that it was likely winter by now, though that was just a guess. Time mattered little here.

The sound of booted feet against stone sounded out through the hall beyond her cell, drawing her dark eyes to the torch lit area. A pair of guards stopped outside of her cell and opened the door before stepping inside. Mira kicked out at them; however one easily caught her foot and dragged her off onto the floor. She still thrashed and lashed out as best she could, which was hardy much given her rather weakened state.

“Let me go! Let me go! I’m not going, you can’t make me go! Unhand me!” Mira screamed.

It seemed very much as though they could as they easily started dragging her out of the cell by her arms, her resistance hardly meaning anything. The only thing she got from dragging her heels on the ground was a cut foot from a particularly sharp rock in the path. She yelped, that had not exactly been the most pleasant of experiences. The guards simply dragged her through the hallway heedless, not bothering to speak to her or even respond with violence towards her. She might as well have been a sack of potatoes.

Mira felt fear cross her heart as they were drawing closer and closer to their destination. She noted that along the walls were marks made in the stone, places where someone had clawed at the walls to prevent from being taken where they were going. She had heard the pained screams, they were frequent where they were going and it always happened after the guards took someone from their cell. Mira didn’t want to know what happened beyond the door they were dragging her towards. She wanted to go home, she wanted her nice warm bed again, and she wanted this to be some nightmare.

She begged, anything to save her hide from what was to come. "Please, let me go! I didn't do anything wrong! Please, I'll do anything!" No response from her captors, they just continued to drag her along.

The door swung wide and Mira was presented with the sight of a large X shaped restraining device. A device she noted with immediate nausea was stained with blood, some relatively fresh by the looks of it. She did everything she could to avoid being placed on the device, which was not much as the guards fixed the leather straps to her wrists and ankles before leaving the chamber.

The prisoner struggled against the straps, straining her wrists and ankles to no avail. Instead the young woman simply slumped, her muscles going slack as she waited there on the device. Tears sprung into her eyes and she sniffled miserably, desperate fear settling inside of her. She was going to die here. In pain and tortured most likely and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. All because she had been at the wrong place at the wrong time, on the other side of a line on the map. For all she knew her father was dead as well, in exactly the same way that whomever was going to enter this room was going to do her in.

Breakfast was always the same. In her meals Olivia was pretty traditional, she would eat porridge and sip tea slowly as she watched the sunrise. She had no particular joy of watching the sun rise, but appearances must be kept especially for someone in her position.

The castle mage was to be expected to be skilled in matters of interrogation, but the experiments that Olivia was doing would be frowned upon in normal times. She was sure the castle staff knew, but no one ever asked just why so many different people were screaming. The war was still on, and as long as the war spilled blood they had a use for her cruel methods.


So far her theory had seen much progress. Her aim was to control pain. With no pain, fatigue or exhaustion there would be no stopping the Kingdom's knights. They would become an army more fearsome than could be believed.

The last batch of prisoners had been useless, an old man, a sickly woman and a merchant. They were survivors of a raid on a village right by the borders. Olivia had ordered it, as she needed test subjects. The first two had died within an hour of her experiments, and that had wasted a full day. The merchant however, he had been mesmerizing. He struggled, spat, shouted and resisted spells for six hours. His mind broke shortly after, but he was immune to pain. The test had failed, as broken men could not march to war.

Today would hopefully prove more promising than the last few weeks had been. Olivia walked through the dungeons, lost in her thoughts of her research. She entered her chamber, seeing the large cross. Her eyes wandered to the figure upon it, a beautiful young girl who was already weeping. There was no doubt to Olivia that this girl was aware of what was in store for her, but her tears or cries did not move her, she just put on a smile.

"Oh, what's the matter, dear?" She said softly, as she stroked the girls face. "Tell me your name."

Mira laid eyes upon a breathtakingly beautiful woman who entered the room seemingly without a care in the world. She was strikingly pale and possessed the most lovely of red hair, something about her just screaming ‘wrong’ to the prisoner. It was likely the eyes, like two gleaming rubies set into her skull that were both unnatural and almost hypnotic. The prisoner swallowed hard, her chest still wracked with sobbing. Was she the one responsible for so much pain and torment? The prisoner could only wonder as she stared at the woman, her hairs standing on end as she came closer to her.

Her hand brushed her cheek and Mira felt a chill course down her skin, the contact invasive though the soft tone of her voice gave her a spark of hope. Perhaps she could reason with this one, after all she was actually talking to her unlike the guards. The prisoner started struggling at the leather straps holding her wrists against, the effort futile. Another wave of tears rolled down her cheeks as she managed to look her visitor in the eyes. They were so mesmerizing, unnatural though also fascinating. She stumbled over her words, her tongue awkwardly trying to cut through her fear.

“P-please, miss. My name is M-Mira. I want to leave, please let me go!” She responded, her lips quivering.

Part of her was disgusted at herself but she couldn’t help it, she wanted to live and she was not above begging to keep her skin intact. “I’ll do anything, just please let me go!” She hoped against hope that she looked pathetic enough for the woman to take pity on her. Normally she had a biting tongue on her to take after her father, but this was about living. When her life was on the line the bratty and spoiled daddy’s girl took a backseat.

Mira squirmed in the device, the leather’s purpose becoming clear to her finally. Metal would bite into the wrists and might cause a struggling prisoner to cut their own wrists. The leather prevented that, it was a cruel countermeasure to keep the person on the X alive for as long as the tormenter wanted. Understanding the efficiency that went into this holding device only caused her to grow even more fearful. She was hoping now that this woman was not her tormenter and was someone else entirely, some kind soul with a shred of goodness in her heart maybe.

The sobs got louder and more desperate. The pleas for survival were always the same. "I'll do anything." "My baby, please. He needs his mama." "I don't want to die!" "I'll give you my gold, my jewelry, anything!" Olivia had learned people would do and say anything to be left unharmed. Some were brave and defiant at first, but eventually the pleading came as their will began to break. It was a delicious process to watch.

Olivia cupped Mira's cheeks, and gazed into her eyes. There was much fear in there, but there was potential. After several long moments of silence Olivia released the girl and turned towards the dungeon door. She closed it, allowing the metal to echo around the stone room. The sobs continued as Olivia approached a large chain beside the X and lowered it, so the prisoner was lying flat on her back allowing her to see nothing but the roof.

Olivia disliked getting blood on her dress, so every cut had to be precise with minimal spill. This was less likely to happen when her subject hanged upright. The gown she wore was red, but patches of blood would always be noticeable.

"Now, Mira," She said softly as she approached the girl. "My name is Olivia. We're going to spend the day together," she showed the girl hand that exposed a small yet sharp blade. Her eyes met Mira's and she brought the blade down, softly caressing the cold blade against the skin of her arm. "You may feel a slight bit of pain, but if you stay real quiet I will reward you."

Without warning the blade scratched against the skin of her arm, slicing open the flesh and releasing a small amount of blood. Olivia then pushed her fingers against the small cut and allowed a small bit of her magic to enter, in an attempt to numb the pain.

Mira normally would have batted aside the hand cupping her cheek but that was a non-option at this point. Part of her told her to jerk her head away, however as she stared into those red eyes that part was silenced. She was entrapped by the gaze, unable to look away from the gleaming crimson. She felt exposed as the red woman stared into her own eyes, like she could see into her more than others. She swallowed hard after her hand was removed, watching her move towards the door. Her stomach dropped as the door was shut with echoing finality.

She cried as the X was lowered so that she was staring up at the cold ceiling, sniffling miserably as she tried to keep her eyes on the woman. Olivia, that was her name, Mira had known a girl named Olivia before a blonde haired thing with very little going on between her ears. This woman was far more dangerous than that one, she really did not like the way she said they would be spending the day together. When she caught sight of the blade in her hand, Mira felt her erratic breathing catch in her throat immediately.

She shivered and whimpered as the blade was pressed against her arm. The woman wanted to look away but could not, the weapon holding her gaze and demanding her attention. The woman tried to move her arm but found that she couldn’t squirm it from under the blade. This was a nightmare; surely this could not be real. Her captor didn’t seem to care about her really, like she was just another one of many beneath her blade. She sobbed louder even when she was told she might be rewarded if she was silent. She didn’t deserve this, why had this happened to her?

“Please, stop! I- Ah!” Mira found herself cut off from her pleading as the blade sliced into her flesh, a yelp escaping her lips.

It hurt at first and as Mira stared at the sight of her own blood she found her stomach doing flip flops. After Olivia touched it however the pain started to fade, the wound numbing over extremely quickly until it was nothing but a dull throb. That didn’t change the fact that she was bleeding. Mira quickly turned her head in the other direction, her breathing erratic and her eyes wide with fear and terror. Was that what she was going to do? Cut her a thousand times over until she died? She felt ready to faint after just one, she couldn’t imagine this continuing.

“W-why are you doing this to me!?” Mira asked.

“W-why are you doing this to me!?” The girl whimpered.

Olivia pursed her lips, and cut the same wound again. This time she let the blood slide down her arm. She repeated the process of putting the numbing spell into her blood, and the girl seemed to settle. Small scratches were easy to numb, but under extreme torture pain became unbearable. It was Olivia's goal to reverse the effects felt under loss of blood. That soldiers could fight literally until their last breath.

Olivia allowed the wound to clot, saying nothing, showing no emotion. Silence was sometimes the best weapon. The indifference the exposed weakened the subjects morale and isolated themselves from resisting. If they felt they were worthless they were more inclined to seek approval from their captor.

When the wound had clotted, Olivia looked upon the girls eyes once more. She lowered herself and kissed her forehead, and then her cheek. "Sssh, that wasn't so bad, was it? Good girl, Mira. You are so strong."

The witch then climbed upon the cross, stradling her pinned prisoner. Her hands felt around the body. "Let's see how strong you are, child. I've put something in you, my magic," She raised her palm and showed her a dark mist that began to swell around her sharp fingernails. "It is to reduce the pain you receive. The pain from before was just... a test."

Her fingers rested over her breast, pure dark energy when exposed to flesh would make the victim believe their skin was being incinerated. The spell left only pain, not any visible marks. "Do not scream, Mira. If you scream I will make it all so much worse."

She slapped her hand down, and allowed the darkness to be absorbed into Mira's skin.

Mira felt a dull tugging at the place where she had been cut and bit her lower lip, while she felt nothing she knew what was happening. More and more magic was pumped into her body; the normal reaction would have been a slight rejection however her body seemed to absorb the arcane energy almost eagerly. The prisoner didn’t know anything about this naturally; magic was a foreign thing to her mind. It was a scary thing that evil witches used in their experiments, so she especially had no idea that her body reacted more positively to it by a slight amount.

The silence that met her question caused her nerves to dissolve ever further, honestly it was amazing how very far she had fallen. Her eyes returned to Olivia’s face, as if searching for some assurance that the witch was still human. She couldn’t see anything in her captors face, simply cold and unfeeling indifference. Mira shivered, she had never encountered someone that could detach themselves so completely and utterly from another’s suffering. She herself was selfish and mean at times, but this was on an entirely different level. Evil came to mind as a word to describe the witch, sadistic perhaps.

The woman whimpered as Olivia kissed her forehead and then her cheek, the action perversely reminding her of when her mother would do such things. After coming home crying from a cut or scrapped knees there was always her mother’s warm embrace and a kiss on the forehead. Only now there was no warmth to it, it felt mocking in a way. This woman was not her mother, but she did not jerk away from the contact even though some part of her desperately wanted to. If she offended the woman, displeased her in any way then she would be dead.

The witch then straddled her body, the red woman looming above her and capturing her gaze with those red eyes. So she was a witch, the thought managed to send further shivers down her spine. She wasn’t just here to torture her, Mira realized that now; she was testing her foul magic upon her. A test subject; that was what Mira was to her, a collection of interesting reactions to her poking and prodding. The dark haired prisoner remained very still as Olivia straddled her, not daring to move lest it be taken as a sign of defiance towards the witch. Now that she knew she was a witch Mira feared her even more if that was possible.

“W-why me? Surely you have o-other test subjects to use? Better ones? I’m just a merchant’s daughter.” Mira inquired. She realized fully that kind of suggestion indicated fully that she was willing to push someone else on the table to avoid pain, however she could hardly help her mind going in that direction. She was afraid. Terrified of what this witch could do to her.

Mira’s breathing became faster and faster as Olivia’s hand came to rest on her breast, dark energy swelling forth from her fingers. The prisoner stared pleadingly up at the witch, looking for pity that did not exist. She started struggling then, not caring for the consequences in particular. She wanted to get away from the sources of her pain and fear, the creature looming above her that took the shape of a woman.

“Please, no! No- Ahhhh!” Mira found her pleading cut off as the dark energy made contact with her skin.

She screamed despite telling herself not to, then again she doubted that anyone would not scream at the amount of pain she was experiencing. It was like nails were scratching at the inside of her skull, obliterating all rational thought and leaving only the sensation of sheer suffering. It felt like her skin was being burned, charred from her bones by searing heat. Her body broke out into a cold sweat, attempting to cool her down even though in reality there was not physical burning occurring.

However, then something happened. The pain began to dull. The magic in her blood reacted with something inside of her, strengthening the effects and numbing the pain. The unbearable pain was not as painful as before and slowly, every so torturously slowly the pain levels decreased and she stopped screaming and started hissing as though she had come into contact with something particularly hot briefly. Eventually the pain deadened altogether and she stopped screaming, the witch's more powerful magic achieving a sort of harmony with her body.

Olivia's excitement rose as the girl screamed. She pushed her body tighter against her, as her hand continued to pulse the burning energy into her. The magick had not worked and the formula was not strong enough. The girl had such a pretty shriek..., and then suddenly it stopped. Major pain had turned into minor discomfort. She removed her hand from Mira's chest. She couldn't have been broken already. Magic did not settle over time, it happened instantly or did not happen at all.

Olivia smiled, taking up her knife again. She slit the girls arm harshly this time, pressing her hand over her mouth to supress her shrieks. "Shhh, my dear Mira." She cooed as she looked at the blood on the knife.

Could it be?

She brough the cold steel to her lips, and allowed her tongue to sample it. She felt the taste, the cold taste. This girl was special. She was not just simply a merchants daughter, she was a witch. Olivia eyes raised to meet her victim. "Oh my dear. My poor dear." She took her face in her hands, her nails gripped her tightly. Olivia kissed her, pressing her tongue deep in her mouth, but only for a second. She pulled away and released the prisoner from her gripping nails.

"You have a mighty gift, Mira. A witch on my table. What are the odds?"

The hand was removed and the dull throb stopped, with this the magic began to simply fade within her as its task had been completed. Mira didn’t know what had happened exactly, as far as she knew it was Olivia’s magic that had deadened the pain entirely. She couldn’t forget that kind of pain though; it would like stick very close in her memory for some time to come. It appeared that her struggles were not quite over. A muffled shriek escaped her lips as Olivia sliced into her arm, drawing more blood and even more pain from the prisoner.

The witch tasted her blood, running her tongue along the blade in a manner that caused an involuntary shudder to course down her spine. The next thing she knew that same tongue was shoved down her own mouth, the suddenness shocking Mira to her core. The kiss was brief but afforded Mira a taste of the other woman, as well as some remnants of her own blood upon her lips. The young woman had never kissed another woman before; then again she had never kissed a man either. The fact it was coming from Olivia, who had been content to torture her seconds ago, certainly brought some confusing emotions with it.

Mira blinked once, twice, unsure that she had heard the witch looming over her correctly. A witch? Her? The notion seemed absurd; the young woman had never used magic a single day in her entire life. There was nothing remotely magical about her, if anything she was a painfully average girl. She eyed Olivia warily; unsure of what the volatile woman might do to her next. She wasn’t quite sure if she was lying or not or why she would even bother lying to her. After all, she already held all the cards here.

The prisoner cleared her throat as best she could. “A witch? Me? What do you mean? I haven’t ever used magic!”

Mira tried to do something, closed her eyes and tried to do something like conjure fire from her fingers. Nothing happened when she opened them again, regarded the witch still straddling her with obvious skepticism. Mira also had to wonder if this apparent revelation was good for her or bad for her. The young woman hoped it was the former, she hoped against hope. She doubted she’d last another round of torture from her captor.

"Yes, you. A witch," Olivia brushed the girls hair out of her face. She would not release her, not yet. "It is pretty common. Most have magic within their veins but they cannot challenge it. It happens to half-bloods. Your mother must have had intercourse with a mortal boy. When I touched you, it activated the magic within you."

Olivia smiled, falling down upon her victim. She felt Mira's breath against her lips and kissed her once more tenderly. "I awakened you, sister." She kissed down along her neck, and moved her hands against the straps that binded her to the X. She contemplated releasing her, but that would be too gentle. She did not know this woman, she did not trust her.

"You are strong, for a half breed however," Olivia said as she sat up on the girl. Her hands softly caressed down her stomach. "I wonder how strong you are? Your daddy was strong. Very strong and brave. The merchant man? Yes? Your mother chose wisely. He liked me very much, but I'm afraid he is no more." She began to laugh softly. "Oh, but what a man your daddy was," She stuck her nails deep into the girls stomach and raked down, ripping the clothing that covered her.

Her soft laughter became cackles, and her arousal began to grow she slowly grinded against the witch as she held onto her hips. When she stopped she once more fell on top of the girl and pressed her lips against Mira's neck. Olivia nibbled at her flesh. "But don't worry, Mira. I'm your sister now."

Her mother? Mira thought back to her mother, pondering if she had ever shown any signs of being a witch. Certainly her mother had been a very quiet woman, kept to herself most often. When she had suddenly departed one day it had been strange and her father had never told her why exactly. The young woman had grown up from then on thinking her mother had abandoned her, though now she wondered how true that was. She also had no idea what it meant to be a half blood, all she knew was that witches could use magic and should be avoided.

Again Olivia kissed her, much more tenderly than before however, and she called her sister. Mira was not exactly sure how to feel about that, if she had a sister she doubted that she’d be doing these things with her. She also rather hoped her sister would not have strapped her to a table and sliced her up. She felt a tingle in her gut, and when Olivia trailed kisses down the side of her neck she felt an odd mixture of terror and arousal. Arousal that died very quickly as Olivia next decided to speak of her father.

News of her father’s death slammed into her gut like a well-aimed punch, stealing the wind from her. The witch spoke of it so casually, like it hardly mattered. Fresh tears rolled down Mira’s face, anger slowly rising in her chest. She wanted to lash out and strangle the murderer atop her, to avenge her father’s death. That was impossible however, she was weak and blood was dribbling from her arm to weaken her even further. Olivia was not only unbound but also a witch, whose power was likely enough to kill her with a single word or gesture.

Mira made a decision then as the witch atop her violated her personal space and removed her clothing. She was going to get her revenge, however to get it she would need to survive today. Olivia was the one who decided if she survived or not, she needed to continue playing the coward. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed the witch. So she let her have her way with her body, suppressing a shiver as the witch trailed kisses along her neck. Despite her hatred for her the arousal was back as the witch nibbled at her flesh, the woman squirming slightly beneath the woman.

“My… sister? Does that, ah, mean you’ll let me go?” Mira said, gasping at Olivia’s ministrations.

She had no control here and strangely enough, though the pained haze she was still living in it was arousing. This woman killed her father, had tortured her, yet she found herself aroused by her control. The fear was still there but it was a different kind of fear, one that came with the arousal. Olivia could very well still kill her, she could do any number of things to her and she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. It was a sick thrill inside of her, the lack of certainty. She knew it was sick but she found herself resisting it more and more as she squirmed and writhed beneath the witch.

Let her go? Let her go? She had the nerve to request such a thing? Olivia sat up on her once more. She stared deeply into her eyes, seeing a range of emotions. Her fear had eased slightly, making Mira braver. She had thought the connection they now shared would somehow make Olivia full of mercy. She was mistaken. Amongst her fear was lust, she liked what she was doing to her. The sensation and touch was new to her, and feelings she did not understand were surfacing for the first time.

Then deep within her eyes was hatred. A strong burning hatred and desire to hurt. Olivia bit down on her lip as she stared deeper and deeper into Mira's beautiful eyes. She wanted vengeance for her fallen father, she wanted power. She desired Olivia's blood. She was bubbling with hate.

Olivia raised her palm, this time the flame was very real. It consumed her hand and she placed it upon Mira's chest. The fire crawled over Mira, scorching and burning... it soon absorbed right under her skin. Olivia removed herself from the table quickly. She undid the straps on the X, freeing her new sister from the shackles.

The fire would fill her with rage shortly, a murderous painful rage. An uncontrollable blood boiling rage that would simply either be extinguished with death or burn the newly developed witch into exhaustion. The induced rage would unlock some of her power buried deep within granting her access to a small yet powerful amount of magic.

"Now sister, let's see if you're worthy. Kill. Kill everything in your path." Olivia whispered with glee as she caressed Mira's face. Then with the blink of an eye, Olivia had vanished, leaving Mira alone.

Once more Mira felt exposed for Olivia’s gaze, her eyes seeming to see deep within her as though she could tell with but a glance what her surface emotions were. The woman swallowed hard, wishing she had not said anything in the first place and opted to remain silent as she was judged. Her eyes widened as the woman summoned actual flames in her hands, causing the half-blood witch to struggle hard against her bonds. The fire was brought closer to her and the woman screamed loudly when the searing flames finally touched her flesh. They didn’t stop with her flesh and seemed to seep inside of her.

Her rage and anger it started to grow brighter and brighter with the pain, soon her screams of pain were more roars of rage. Olivia released the bonds that kept Mira to the X and allowed her new sister freedom of movement. The woman felt power coursing through her veins, anger and vindictive rage blotting out every rational thought. She wanted to kill, to kill, and kill, and kill until there was nothing left to kill in her path. Olivia’s words were not even registered as flames gathered in the newly awakened witch’s hands, blasting through the door to her cell as though the barrier were made of paper.

Olivia was gone but right now the half dressed woman was out for more blood than just hers, she was going to kill everything she came across. Madness danced within her eyes as she noted a few guards at the end of the hall, the half-dressed prisoner smirking cruelly at them as they charged down the hall. The former prisoner inhaled deeply and then exhaled, unleashing a wall of flames from her lips that seared at the flesh of the guards. They fell screaming at her feet, trying desperately to put themselves out.

Mira strode down the halls, her attention falling upon the cells. An unhinged giggle escaped her lips as she conjured up flames in her hands once more and walked down the row of cells, spraying fire within each one she passed. Prisoners feel to the ground, screaming in agony though in her anger clouded state the woman barely registered it. Somehow these people were also responsible for her anger, it hardly mattered that it didn’t make logical sense to arrive at that conclusion. She killed and killed, murdering guard and prisoner alike. It didn’t matter to her, all would perish in the inferno of her wrath.

A ways into her rampage, as she was roasting a cornered group of guards with malicious glee she noted that the corners of her vision were starting to darken. Her limbs started to feel more and heavier, sluggish and delayed in their movements. The flames wreathing her and having burned her clothes from her started to die down. Soon enough Mira fell to her knees in the prison, surrounded by the burning remains of the this floor of the prison. The last thing she saw before everything went dark was flames, burning bright and hot despite her.

She watched Mira's movements unseen from the shadows. The girl was quick and fearsome. She quickly destroyed all who crossed her path, which Olivia approved of. The guards tried to contain her, but failed. When the energy within her burnt out she dropped to the floor, the flames that covered her body vanished.

Olivia emerged from the shadows. Her eyes full of a pride, now that she knew what her sister was capable of. Footsteps began to get nearer as Olivia crouched down, and pressed Mira's head onto her lap. She stroked her face with affection as guards turned the corner of the burnt and smoking corridor.

"It is okay, I have control of the situation down here," Olivia said calmly, as she brushed a finger through the unconscious girls hair. "I'll need new subjects, this one seems to not like our current ones,"

The guards looked at the pair uneasily, but said nothing and left them alone. Olivia returned Mira to her cell, leaving her new sister to wake with a fresh dress and a bar of soap with a bucket of water. There was a plate of food on a table at the corner of the cell.

Her new coven sister had potential to be so much more than just a peasant girl, and Olivia intended to guide her. She had always wanted a sister, and now one had stumbled down her path. It didn't even matter that she was only a half-breed. The girl was strong.

When Mira awoke she felt awful, a splitting headache was roaring through her skull and a bit of nausea was centered in her gut. Her mind was a foggy mess, leaving her wondering for a moment where she was and why she was naked. Slowly it all came back to her in horrifying detail, the anger, the flames, and the death. Likely if her stomach was not so empty the young woman would have vomited, instead she clutched her head and shook it in denial. That couldn’t have been her, that was not her. Yet it was and the sick part about it was how stark the memory of the pleasure she had taken in her power. She had been unto a goddess of flames, the power had been intoxicating.

Olivia. She had caused her to go into that rage, had told her to kill everyone that she possibly could. The witch did not seem to be anywhere in the cell, instead there was a proper set of clothing, a bucket of water and soap, as well as a plate of food in the corner. It was more than she had been given in all of her time here. The young woman first cupped her hands and drank deeply from the water, guzzling it down in long greedy gulps. When her thirst was quenched the young woman quickly took up the soap and started scrubbing herself down.

She washed every inch that she could manage to touch, purging herself of dirt that had gathered over her time here. No crevice was too small; she had been too long in the prison and felt stained all over. She ran the soap through her hair, savagely attacking every knot that she could find before dunking her head into the bucket. When she finally finished with her ministrations the woman sighed, sitting back and taking up her next task to get dressed. The dress was a common affair though it was better than prison clothing by far. It was a rather good fit as were the strappy leather sandals. By the end she felt tolerably more human again. Not perfect but better than nothing.

With all this done, Mira finally sat down and started eating. It was nothing special but it was relatively warm and after her infrequent and cold meals earlier it was positively divine. She wolfed it down, practically swallowing the food the moment it entered her mouth without chewing. She didn’t feel humiliated by her lack of table manners; it was hardly the concern at the moment. When she finished the meal she leaned back in her chair and sighed, allowing herself to get reoriented.

The question on her mind at the moment was why she had been permitted these comforts. Perhaps it had been Olivia, though the witch had likely tried to kill her with that entire fire affair. Her eyes flickered towards the bars of her cell; she was still a prisoner though just a more comfortable prisoner. Whoever had helped her out likely had some ulterior motive of their own. All she could do was wait.

Olivia rested easily that evening. She drank red wine from her goblet and savored each drop. The only thing on her mind was Mira. The feeling of her body under hers, the madness in her eyes as the rage consumed her. The only witch Olivia knew was her mother, who was long dead. She had never met any other witches, and never even believed she could find one.

It was midnight when she stirred out of her quarters and returned to the dungeons, Olivia had free access of the entire castle so the Kings guards did not stop her from going anywhere she please. The remaining prisoners flinched and pretended not to see Olivia pass. Her footsteps got quicker and quicker as she approached the cell closest to the dungeons. She removed a small key from her pocket and unlocked the door.

The girl was sitting on a chair, having enjoyed the comforts Olivia had allowed her. The cell door shut behind her, and Olivia eyes scanned over her body and new dress. "You look well, Mira." She said politely. "Did you enjoy your meal? I hope it was to your liking. Boar is very expensive in times of war."

Mira heard footsteps coming closer and closer to her cell, her eyes moving to watch the bars of her cell warily. When Olivia walked into view the woman felt a lance of fear shoot through her body, though she did whatever she could to conceal it. She was a proper witch after all and had caused her to murder all of those people, if anything she was even more afraid of her than she had ever been. The young woman stood up quickly as the witch entered her cell, nerves very much on edge. So she had indeed been the one to give her this reprieve.

The half-blood witch narrowed her eyes in distrust. “What did you do to me? Why did you make me kill all of those people like that!?”

Not exactly the most polite of things to say to a witch, however Mira needed some answer very fast. Her memories of when she had been in that enraged state were very clear in her mind, as well as the screams of her victims. A bit of comfort was nice, but it paled to the guilt that plagued her. She also remembered that this was the same woman who had killed her father. She felt a little more confident than she had while being tied down.

Standing as she did now she was able to note that Olivia was a good few inches taller than she, not exactly helping in lowering her level of intimidation. The young woman swallowed hard as she stared at the witch, her fists clenched at her side. Oh, how she wished she still had that burning inside of her so she could burn this woman to ashes. That anger showed very clearly in her eyes, the ambivalence she held towards the red head outweighing any minor gratitude she might feel. For the moment it also outweighed her fear, a dangerous thing.

"I awakened your gift, Mira." Olivia smiled, unaware of the severity of the damages she had done to the poor girl. Olivia did not understand remorse, she did not need it. She had power at the tips of her fingers and was not afraid to use it to destroy her enemies. That was how all witches should be. "They are only sheep, sister. You are a wolf. You are above mortal men, your powers should be worshiped, feared and respected by all,"

She stepped towards her, sensing her anger, her hatred, she had no doubt that the girl would try to kill her if she was in control of her power. That would change though, soon she would see the world like Olivia did, and what a view her sister was in for. And if it took breaking her sister under torture and then rebuilding her then that was a sacrifice Olivia was willing to make. Her hands reached for her arms, and she pulled the witch in to her embrace. Olivia's skin was cold, but Mira was warm.

"Do you hate me, sister? Do you hate me for freeing you from the shackles of a mortal life? I can teach you so much, Mira." Olivia kissed the girls dark hair, and then her forehead as she held her head tightly against her chest. "Let me guide you, let me help you unlock your true potential."

The way Olivia spoke chilled Mira to the bone, as if the lives of others were simply there to amuse her. The newly awakened witch had experienced that fact first hand; the feeling of helplessness upon that restraint was not likely to be forgotten anytime soon. To her Olivia seemed so very inhuman, like a demon wearing the flesh and face of a beautiful woman. She took an involuntary step back as the witch came closer to her, her anger wavering as she remembered just what this woman was capable of. Offending her seemed and extremely poor idea at the moment, considering she lacked all weaponry.

Again she shivered at the contact with Olivia’s cold skin, being pulled against her. The next round of questions seemed obvious to Mira, of course she hated the witch for everything she had done to her. She desired to kill the witch more than she had anyone else in her entire life, she was evil incarnate. Yet there was some part of her that felt an odd attraction, she remembered how the fear had also brought with it arousal. The witch was just so powerful, to the degree where Mira doubted she could defeat her conventionally.

“Yes… You killed my father. You made me kill so many other people…”She whispered.

The young witch was again reminded of her mother as Olivia pulled her into another embrace, resting her head upon the other woman’s chest. Here she could hear the other woman’s heartbeat, the sound of her lifeblood drumming in her ears. Mira allowed the sensation to take her away from this place, closing her eyes and focusing upon the sound. It was beautiful really, another aspect of Olivia that seemed to contradict her cruelty. For a moment she was able to pretend that this was her mother, stroking her hair and telling her everything would be alright. Only for a moment however.

The offer put before her was tantalizing, the ability to wield that kind of power. Power she could use to avenge herself upon Olivia if used correctly. “I-I, that power. It felt so wrong but also so very good…”

“Why would you teach me? Why teach someone who hates you?” Mira muttered, turning her gaze up at the taller woman.

"Because we are a dying race, my dear," Olivia said, loosening her embrace allowing herself the pleasure of gazing into Mira's eyes. "Witches blood is rare, and such talents should be taught to all who possess the gift. That and there is strength in you, I see it and the darkness buried within, you are a creature of hate, a harbinger of destruction. I could not forgive myself if I didn't teach you."

"As for your hatred for me, it is to be expected. But think of this, I have been nothing but honest to you. Your father kept the truth of your mother away from you for all these years. He deceived you, kept you from seeking out your mother. He kept you from developing your gift. By now you should be queen of some King's castle..., ruling him as he rules the land before you," She leaned her face towards Mira, pressing her lips against the girl.

"But now you do not have the power to protect yourself. When the guards came to take you they should have bowed down in submission and begged for mercy, but instead you knelt and let yourself be shackled. You were lead here to get tortured. You are weak. Your father did this to a witch, his daughter, to you and he deserved to die for it." Olivia's words were full of malice but she spoke with a soothing comfort, as her hand made smooth strokes down her face.

Olivia’s words were sweet like honey; they made Mira want to believe her and her arguments and made her want to hate her less and less. Part of her realized that she was right and that she had relished in the power she had wielded. She had been unto a living goddess of destruction, laying waste to everything in her path. She craved the power that Olivia possessed no matter how much she denied it herself. The witch had tortured her, caused her pain, but had also showed her what real power could be like. Now that she had tasted it there was very little she could do to resist the thirst for power.

She was kissed once more, igniting the confusing swirl of emotions within her once again. She recognized that Olivia was right, but she could not move past her hatred for the witch. She had tortured her, forced her to kill people, and had killed those close to her. However she knew that the offer placed before her was too good to pass up on. She didn’t have to like Olivia to learn from her. Just like she didn’t have to like her personally to take some sick pleasure how the woman treated her.

Mira caught the witch’s hand in her own; it was as cold as it had ever been. The young woman placed her lips on the back of the woman’s hand, kissing it briefly. It was a sign of her acceptance of the witch’s words. Part of her recoiled at showing any signs of submission to the witch, however another part felt thrilled by it. The awakened witch turned her eyes up at Olivia, staring deeply into her crimson eyes. They really were the most beautiful thing about her by far, so very hypnotic and commanding.

“I will be your student. Teach me this power that you possess. Teach me how to never be helpless to save myself again.” Mira affirmed.

Perhaps it was cowardly to do this, to submit to the witch in order to gain power. Mira could not bring herself to care overmuch; she needed to know the ways of magic to ever hope to avenge herself upon Olivia. It might take years, it might be the most horrible experience of her life, however she needed to do this. She would seize the birthright her mother had granted her and take whatever Olivia would teach her. The red haired witch had placed the hook of power before her and Mira bit into it as hard as possible.

"Good," Olivia nodded, as her lips touched off Mira's once more. Her cheek rested against hers as she took her hand in her grip. She made smooth, and soft motions with her fingers, spreading Mira's hands out to meet hers. "Close your eyes and clear your mind, let the night wash over you. Let my voice take you to your haven. Breathe in, let the air wash over your lungs. Be every breath you release."

Olivia separated her hand from Mira's, putting inches between them. "First, you must learn to control the elements, before you can conjure them." She summoned fire, allowing it to float between them. Olivia pressed it against Mira's hand, and lowered her own. The flame stayed floating before her sister.

"Now, keep it burning. Keep it in control. The darker your mind becomes, the brighter the flame will burn." Olivia watched eagerly.

Mira did as Olivia instructed and closed her eyes, focusing upon the sound of the other witch’s voice and upon her own breathing. She grasped at that feeling she had possessed while wielding the burning power, the drunk state where she had existed to express the power within her. The young woman reached into the darker parts of her mind, clearing her thoughts of distractions that might prevent her from effectively using her magic. The half-blood opened her eyes after she was relatively confident in her state of mind, awaiting the instructions of the woman before her with obvious eagerness.

The elements were her first lesson in regards to magic, which was fine with Mira given her experience with the fire previously though there was some minor fear in her of the power. Olivia created a small ball of fire and allowed the flame to travel float before her, instructing her to control the flame. Mira swallowed and then licked her lips, gathering her focus to control the flame hovering before her. She focused on the sensation of burning, gathering her energy and trying to focus it outwards from her body and towards the flames. She wanted to try and make it move slightly towards her.

Her control was crude and it showed, it took a great deal of focus just for her to move it an inch closer towards her. Her face was a mask of the purest concentration as she next attempted to try and make it burn brighter. She didn’t know what she meant by a dark mind, it was a confusing concept. The young witch looked up at her instructor for some guidance on that matter, occasionally glance at the flames. It was exhilarating to try and control the elements; however it was also a very confusing and taxing process for a novice like her.

“What do you mean by a dark mind, Oliv- Mistress Olivia? Also, are there other forms of magic beyond just controlling the elements? Like when you numbed the pain in my wounds.” Mira inquired of the witch, catching herself when addressing the witch and adding an honorific to keep up appearances.

The girl struggled, but she had talent despite never having a mentor all this time. There was only one way to obtain a darker mind. Magic came from emotion and perspective, the more you felt the more power you would obtain. Hate was an excellent source of strength, but discipline controlled magic. The girl referred to her as her mistress, and Olivia could only take pride from that.

"A darker state of mind is not easy to come upon. You have too much heart. Do not blame yourself, you were raised unknowing how much of a heart can weaken you. As a child I was brought up knowing that I would have to spill blood. That men fear power and will do anything to suppress it or steal it. Over time you learn that the light and positive emotions are fleeting, and that misery and chaos are eternal. You need to know this, but not let negativity overwhelm you. Emotion is power, confidence is power. Doubt is a weakness."

Olivia brought a large flame to her hand. "You hate me, correct?" She did not need an answer. The flame lowered and expanded with Olivia's every whim. It looked so easy. She placed the fire on Mira's open palm. "Hate me with every single part of your being and you will get power with this flame, but you will not control it and you will only hurt yourself. Control is important. Discipline is important. Hate me and allow me to be your focus on the dark mind, but calm yourself."

Olivia released her grip on the flame and watched. "If you succeed, I will reward you with a kiss. If you fail..., I will hurt you."

Mira listened carefully to Olivia’s words, thinking that she understood what she was saying though was a bit disheartened by the concepts thrown her way. She thought what Olivia was talking about was a purging of her humanity, which sounded frightening to her. The ideas she was raised with were still firmly planted in her mind, it would take quite a bit of time and instruction for those ideas she was told were true most of her life were untrue. Mira closed her eyes and tried to think about what Olivia had spoken of, finding it impossible for her to imagine herself being like Olivia.

She didn’t bother denying the question that Olivia posed, the witch likely already knew the answer to it without needing to be told. The witch generated a larger flame in her hands and expended and controlled it as though it were completely natural. Mira wanted to be that powerful and then some, however first she needed to enforce some bit of control upon her actions. She listened to the witch’s instructions and nodded, confident that she could do that. A thrill of fear coursed down her spine at the threat of being hurt, after her earlier torture she did not want to imagine what else Olivia could to that could hurt her.

Mira took control the flame once more, this time focusing upon her hatred for Olivia. She repeated her reasons like a mantra in her mind, that she had killed her father, that she had made her kill others, and that she had tortured her. The ball of fire grew with her hatred; however Mira focused also upon Olivia herself as an anchor. How cold her skin was, how she sent shivers down Mira’s spine just from her touch, how her lips tasted absolutely divine. Even upon those confusing thoughts buried within her mind that arose from being close to her.

The ball eventually started to stabilize and Mira smirked confidently and allowing her pride to take over, losing her focus in the process. The ball winked out of existence in the next moment, leaving the woman without the fire itself. She swallowed hard, daring to glance up at her instructor with fear in her eyes once more. Technically she had done as instructed, however the fire had still gone out because her pride had replaced her hatred and her focus. The half-blood bit her lower lip and prayed silently that would not be seen as a failure.