Warmly nestled in his cot, dreams turned into memories of Elizabeth standing in defiance with her hands on her hips. A hint of irritation could be heard in her voice. “Mother, can you please tell Ronan that I am not a child.” Frustration at his long blonde-haired sister gave him a headache as he argued with her. “Elizabeth, you are so stubborn. Let me join you; it is not safe.” She would have heard the rumours just as Ronan has about the disappearance of several young witches from their area. Except Elizabeth was not taking these concerns seriously as she wanted to travel to Darini by herself without an escort. Ronan was only trying to keep her safe from harm, but of course, his sister took it as an attack on her independence.

The warlock heard his mother’s deep voice. “That is enough fighting from the both of you.” Ronan remembers his mother’s exasperation over them arguing as she brushed her curly sandy brown hair off her face. “Liz, your brother has a point. Let me go to the village with you. There my son, are you satisfied?” The dark-haired warlock stood proudly facing his sister over his small victory. He had felt comfortable the two of them would be protected walking together and moved on to completing his day’s duties. He was chopping wood when he heard screaming and yelling from his neighbors. Running down the path, his worst fears were realized seeing his mother and sister lying on the ground covered in blood.

Wanting to escape the bloody image in his mind, Ronan opened his eyes and stared up at the thatched roof. He was at home in his own bed, but he could barley remember the trip from Tipperary to Darini. The dull ache of his back dredged up his last known memory of being whipped by that coward King Nathanial. The Dulra may have bested him momentarily, but Ronan had taken his revenge by convincing Nathanial’s Queen to fight for her freedom. The dark-haired warlock would have loved to see the King’s face when he realized Isabella had escaped from his grasps.

Thinking about the raven-haired beauty caused the warlock to sit up in bed. The Malagi witch had gotten them both to his village safely, but she must have been traumatized by being left alone on this journey with him injured. He groaned from sitting up too quickly, but he needed to check if Isabella was alright. The poor thing must have been scared to death. As he glanced around the round room, a shorter grey-haired man came up to Ronan’s bedside. “Ronan, you should be relaxing.” Recognizing his father, Ronan asked him. “Father, where is Isabella? Is she alright?” The gentle elderly man placed a hand on his shoulder. “Ronan, she is fine. She is with Catherine. You should get some rest.”

“You don’t understand father, she is a gentle soul. She has been very sheltered. This whole ordeal must have been distressing for her.” Ronan pulled the blankets back, turned and placed his feet on the ground. The grey-haired man with similar features to the warlock sat beside him on the bed. His eyebrow raised as he spoke. “Are we talking about the same woman? The Isabella I know seemed to be incredibly capable. She managed to keep you alive.”

Looking into his father’s brown eyes, Ronan was struck with amazement. “She did keep me alive, didn’t she?” His father with a grin on his face answered him. “Yes, she did. It was quite the surprise when she showed up outside of the cottage with my son in tow. But when I checked, your injuries have pretty much healed.” Leaning in his father asked him. “Now, son, would you care for some soup. You must be hungry.”

Smiling at the older man, the dark-haired warlock answered. “Starving.” Patting his leg, the grey-haired man rose from the bed and stepped towards the home’s hearth. Burning candles illuminated the round hut in a warm glow. Ronan shirtless stood up from the bed and stretched his arms upwards to straighten out his back. He could contend with the dull backache instead of the stinging pain when he was whipped. The dark-haired warlock glanced around his home; several makeshift beds lined the outskirts as a large wooden table sat near the hearth. His father worked over a large pot resting in the stone hearth. His stomach flipped with hunger as he smelled the pot of stew.

His father approached the table holding a wooden bowl in his hands as Ronan took a seat on the wooden bench. Ronan asked his father. “Where is Isabella?” Setting the bowl down on the tabletop the grey man answered. “Out with Catherine. They have made fast friends; your younger sister is showing her the area.” Both men’s eyes met. “Your sister is careful. Relax.” Ronan with his bowl of stew greedily began scooping spoonful into his mouth. Both men sat in silence for a moment as the dark-haired warlock ate. His father sitting across from Ronan placed his arms up on the table. The dark-haired warlock knew his father was curious about details. When he finished his meal, the questions from the older man began.

“Ronan, who is this woman you brought with you?” Glancing into brown piercing eyes, he knew he had to be truthful with him. He dreaded his father’s reaction as the older man tried to persuade him from joining the competitions at Tipperary. “Isabella is the Malagi Queen.” The grey-haired man placed his head in his hands as he spoke. “Jesus….Ronan….what did you do?” Attempting to reassure his father, Ronan answered him. “Dad, if you had seen how poorly she was treated, you would not be questioning me.” The grey-haired man looked up at him. “But did you just bring hell down on our heads by bringing her here?”

“Listen to me Father, Isabella is one of the most powerful witches I have come across. And she is untrained. Imagine if we train her, she can become an asset to our fight against the monarchy. Our women have been disappearing in droves or ending up dead. She could be an asset.” Ronan explained to him. “And was there not a premonition from the Waron Clan that a strong natural Malagi witch will bring us back from the brink of extinction. Could Isabella be the Malagi witch that saves us all?” His father rubbed his chin as if deep in thought. “Ronan, that could be just a rumour. There is no evidence of it.” Determined Ronan continued speaking. “Father, we have to do something, too many of our witches have been dying.”

The grey-haired man stood up from the table grabbing the empty bowl with one hand. “Ronan, you have become obsessed with exacting revenge.” Angrily, the dark-haired warlock snapped at his father. “Should you not be?” A hurt expression crossed his father’s face as they sat in silence.

Ronan stood up from the table, strolled over to his bed and searched for a shirt. “I should check on Isabella.” He explained to his father who nodded in return. Finding a clean brown shirt, the dark-haired warlock pulled it over his head. Striding over to the door, he paused for a moment and turned to the older man. “I am sorry Father.” The grey-haired man nodded as Ronan opened the door and left the warm hut. Outside, his eyes tried to adjust to the bright sunlight of the warm sunny day. If only he could convince his father that they needed to stand up to the monarchy. Ronan believed that the Malagi needed to fight for their survival.

Listening for a moment, he could hear the shrieks and giggles of his younger sister Catherine. Casually walking he glanced over at the vegetable gardens him and his family planted earlier. Large green foliage had bloomed throughout the dirt since his time spent away from home. Ronan did not enjoy fighting with his father as all they had left in the world was each other. But being at the castle and observing the Dulra King made Ronan more determined to fight back on behalf of the Malagi. Watching how Nathanial had disrespected Isabella, a Malagi witch, was disgraceful and a front to how he had been raised. The dark-haired warlock was taught to be respectful to his female counterparts.

Passing young sapling trees, his heart filled with the joy of the carefree sound of laughter. Coming from behind the two women, he admired how his younger sister and Isabella were playfully interacting together. He knew that his family would Isabella if they just gave her the chance. It was the raven-haired beauty that noticed him first as a smile broke out on her face. Catherine noticing Isabella’s reaction turned to see Ronan coming towards them. She screamed out. “Ronan, you are up!” The curly brunette ran up and embraced the dark-haired warlock. “Goodness, Catherine, easy on your big brother.”

His curly brunette sister released him and jumped in front of him exclaiming. “I have been teaching your girlfriend how to shoot a bow and arrow. You have to see our shots.” Ronan smiled at his family. “Yes, you will have to show me.” He glanced over at Isabella and observed a slight blush come across her cheeks as they faced each other. “Princess.” He pulled the raven-haired witch into an embrace and whispered to her. “Thank you, Isabella for all that you did.”