Reina kept her hold on the thin sheet as if it was the sturdiest shield in the world. If her eyes weren’t lying to her, the only reasonable question was why was she alive? A rabid, scarred, mangy and very real werewolf was standing over her bed. The beast’s head was twice the size of her own, and she could smell rotten meat on its breath. Actually, she could see pieces of flesh lodged between the monster’s finger-sized front teeth. But the scariest part of waking up to this image was the emptiness in her mind. All the curses, hexes and spells she had painstakingly learned were locked behind a wall of justified primal fear. Well, at least, Reina hadn’t pissed herself this time. Not much of a boast, considering her life was measured in seconds, but it was better than nothing.

“Breakfast,” the werewolf growled in a poor imitation of human speech.

Quite the accurate summary, Reina had to agree. Thin and small as she was, in the beast’s eyes the young witch was just enough to be counted as breakfast. Or it could be talking about the meal tray it placed on her lap. Reina's mind began to stir, shaking off the remains of the sleep which the fear hadn’t erased. The first thing she noticed were the white, yellow and pink flower reefs around the beast’s wrists. In the same place where the witches of the covenant would shackle such creatures for their experiments. Not only that, someone had actually placed a collar of woven leather strips around its neck, just like one would do with a hunting dog. To make the comparison even more apparent, there was also a small iron plate with ‘Rot’ engraved on it.

“Um… Thank you?” Reina managed to form the word while keeping a tight hold on the sheet separating her soft flesh from the beast’s teeth.

The monstrous werewolf stood to its full height, or at least as full as the ceiling of the room would allow, giving the girl a good view of how extremely large and unnatural it was. An obvious reminder that she was at its mercy.

“I…,” Reina swallowed hard, thinking very carefully about her next words. “That is, I appreciate it, very much. Thank you, Rot.”

She went as far as lowering her head slightly. Enough for the gesture to pass as a sincere one, while allowing the young witch to keep the monster in her sight. A low growl rumbled in the werewolf’s chest and it lowered its head to sniff her. Following that, the beast snorted and stepped back. It lingered for a moment by the door leading out of the room, and Reina thought that it had changed its mind about keeping her alive. Only to watch in disbelief as the creature shift its body sidewise and squeeze through the narrow opening, slamming the think wooden door after it.

“A bow?” The word slipped out when the red ribbon tied near the tip of the beast’s tail registered in her mind.

There was too much contradiction in what she had seen, that Reina didn’t know where to begin. The girl let out a sigh of her own as her trembling hands finally released the sheet. Her memory of what happened after the initiation ceremony was a bit foggy. At first, she had assumed that she was back in the room she shared with the other initiates, however, there was no chance that a werewolf would be allowed anywhere near that gloomy place. And that was the other thing. The room she was in was bathed in sunlight, which sneaked through the large window on her left. Also, Reina, finally noticed, that she wasn’t in the small crooked bed which made her back hurt every night. She was in an actual bed, three times larger than what she could ever need.

“Is this how the witches of the Covenant of Shadows leave?” The girl pondered out load, awarding the spacious bedroom with the attention it deserved.

“No wonder they don’t allow us inside the village proper,” Reina mused as she stood from the bed and walked towards the wide wardrobe occupying the wall opposite the bed. She was slightly disappointed to find that it was empty. Although modesty was the first thing she had to forget when the covenant took her in, nudity wasn’t encouraged. Neither was it a habit Reina wished to pick up. Wrapping herself in the thin sheet, the girl moved on from the wardrobe to the cupboard and the pair of night tables next to the bed.

With each empty drawer, her confusion grew. Small things, like the cobwebs in the corners of the walls, the ruined spider webs on the window frame, the cracks in the floorboards and the telling sound of curious rats above her, were beginning to worry her. They contrasted with the freshly picked flowers next to the bed, the clay pots with soothing herbs, dangling on rope baskets along the wall to the left, and the obviously new bedding. Combined with the out-of-place werewolf, Reina was starting to question how much of what she was seeing was real, and how much was a carefully crafted illusion. The main issue with the last was the complete absence of magical power. No matter how small or insignificant a spell might be, there was always a residual trail. One that those like Reina could find if they knew what they were looking for and the girl knew very well what to look for.

Her irritation at how powerless and vulnerable she felt, was replaced by the grumbling in her stomach. It politely reminded the girl that she was starving and there was a platter with food waiting for her on the bed. Reina’s excitement suffered another blow when she looked at the feast ready to be devoured, just to see that it was nothing more than a couple of slices of bread, with suspiciously mouldy cheese and what she assumed was a cup of lukewarm tea.

“Come on!” The witch nearly flipped the metal tray when she dropped on the edge of the bed. “Even the rations during the fast are larger than this!”

The meal was less appetising the more she looked at it and if not for her stomach insisting to devour itself, she would’ve never taken a bite. Having a healthy dose of paranoia was crucial to surviving in the covenant. That said, this was too suspicious as it was to be an actual tap or ploy to harm her. Before realising it, Reina had devoured the meagre surviving and was fishing the leftover crumbs with the tip of her finger. As expected, the food wasn’t enough to satisfy her hunger. Despite its appearance, the cheese was buttery and sharp and the bread, although hard, was soft enough that she didn’t need to chew it until it became a tasteless goo in her mouth. Out of everything, the most disappointing one was the tea. Lukewarm, watery and with an aroma which turned everything inside her mouth into a foul mixture of nauseating fumes.

However, this gave Reina the time she needed to put her thoughts in order. Most importantly, to try and piece together the fragmented memory of the initiation ceremony. The problem was that there was nothing remaining after The First Witch had made her proclamation. All Reina could recall was an overwhelming sensation when Alice moved closer to her. The more the young witch tried to focus on the events, the more blurred they became in her memory. At least, Reina was coherent enough to quickly put it together that she was no longer at the Covenant of Shadows. Wherever this room was, it had to be a place which Mistress Alice had chosen. Which would make the monstrous werewolf her servant or familiar. A worrying thought in itself.

“Are you decent?” The laboured voice from behind the door startled her.

Quicky Reina tied the sheet, turning it into an impromptu dress. It wasn’t perfect, but it would at least hide most of her from whoever was on the other side of the door.

“Yes,” she spoke loudly, irritation making its way into her voice.

The knight from the night before entered the room with a bundle in his hands. Reina wasn’t sure which astonished her more. The fact that he didn’t bother to look at her, or the way he dropped the bundle in her lap and immediately began to command her as if she was a servant girl.

“Clothes. I’ll be outside. There’s a lot to cover, so don’t dilly-dally.” The man’s words came out tortured and strangled, guttural even, indicating that there was something very wrong with his throat or lungs.

Regardless, she didn’t appreciate the tone of his voice. Servants were supposed to be polite and submissive when talking to a witch. It would be good to remind him of his place while using this as an opportunity to test her gifts. Of course, messing with another’s servant was considered to be a show of poor taste and a favourite pass time for her instructors.

“First, you will kneel,” Reina demanded, enchanting her voice as her fingers outlined the necessary sigils on the bed.

The girl gave the knight a smug look waiting for him to drop to the wooden floor in deference to her. However, the moment stretched with nothing happening, which only made her angry. She was certain that she had used the correct sigils and inclinations. Of course, people with strong will were harder to dominate, requiring a lot more power to be put in the spell, and this person had to be one, she concluded. If that was the case, there was plenty for her to spare. The girl wanted to be done with this in a more elegant way since brute forcing wasn’t her style. But if that’s what it was going to take to assert her place, so be it.

“I said, kneel!” Reina felt a little light-headed from pouring a vast amount of her powers inside the simple enchantment and for a moment she feared that she had overdone it.

Instead of following her command, the man took a step forward and in the most alluring sound she had ever heard spoke a single word. “Stand.”

Her body bolted from the edge of the bed. Her actions no longer her own. This. was something the young witch had never experienced before. She could feel the blood drain from her face as she struggled to regain control.

“Slap yourself.” Her left hand obeyed without hesitation. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed inside the room. Pain blossomed on the side of her cheek and tears formed in her eyes. She could taste blood inside her mouth.

“This is how you dominate. Remember that,” the knight’s harsh words tore through the silence like a rusty knife. “You have. Potential. We shall see if you have. Brain.”

With that, the man turned out and left the room. Reina stood motionless for a minute before trying to move her fingers. Once she concluded that she had regained control over her body, the girl hurriedly opened the bundle. Inside it was a simple plain green dress, underwear and shoes which resembled low-cut boots. There was nothing suspicious or sinister about those items, she concluded after a thorough examination. Holding back the tears, Reina began to dress. It wasn’t her burning cheek that hurt, rather it was her pride that was wounded. To think that she would be outclassed by some faceless servant was unimaginable.

Then again, she was inside the home of the First Witch. The problem was, that Reina couldn’t comprehend this or be frightened by it. There was no sign of the oppressive atmosphere she associated with the matrons of the covenants. In reality, this place appeared to be a well-kept home. The absence of demons was another thing that confused her senses. One would accept that a mythical figure such as the First Witch would be swarmed by the children of the Infernal Lords. What else was she to expect? All her life the young witch had been taught that Alice didn’t exist. Or at the very least, had died a long time ago in pursuit of power, striking deals she couldn’t fulfil. Truly, a cautionary tale, and until last night, Reina had assumed the legendary figure was precisely that. A fictional character meant to inspire and scare aspiring witches. Not even in her wildest dreams, would Reina think that the First Witch would become her mentor.

“A dream, or a nightmare?” The girl whispered as she finished tying the laces of her dress.

Pushing back the worrisome thought, she opened the wooden door and stepped into the dark corridor. It wasn’t what she expected. Actually, it was a little disappointing. A passage between rooms, which could be found in any large house, lit by a pair of scones along the wall. The only thing out of place was the knight waiting for her.

“I told her the size was wrong,” he grunted and the girl could feel his gaze on her. “Too long. Too tight in the shoulders. Turn around.”

This time, she obeyed without protest, mostly out of curiosity. She didn’t expect that the armour-clad savage would be so interested in her clothing. Nor that he would be so knowledgeable regarding tailoring. Reina could feel his hands dance on her back and waist, as he took her measurements. More surprising was that he had retrieved a set of needles with which he marked the areas that needed to be adjusted.

“It will do. For now.” The knight finished in a tone that revealed his dissatisfaction with this conclusion. “I’ll make the new one. In a few days. Follow,” he tapped his leg when he said that, and Reina had the distinct impression that he was treating her like a pet.

Wait, did he say he would make it? She caught herself in time before blurting out her thoughts out loud. No, the girl shook her head. Most likely, he would order someone else to do it. To her surprise, the knight stopped after taking only a few steps where the corridor split into two.

“Kitchen. You can enter as you wish. Do not waste. Food.” He pointed at the door on her right, before moving his finger towards the door a meter or so from them. “Living room. You can go in. But cannot leave.” The man chuckled at the poor joke.

He then moved his hand to the two doors on their left, separated by the new passageway. “My room. Always knock. And that is the pantry. Basement underneath.”

“That’s not too hard to remember,” Reina scoffed, having gathered some courage from the sound of laughter coming from the living room. It was strangely muffled, but it was there.

“Library. Off-limits.” The knight continued with the hint of mirth gone from his rasping voice. “Alice’s bedroom.” His hand moved toward the end of the corridor on her left.

“What? No warning about that one?” The girl placed her hands on her hips happy to see that her childish remark made the knight go stiff.

“If you need one,” he stepped menacingly towards her, and Reina began to regret trying to tick him off. It had taken her a moment to realise that there was a very persistent smell of fresh blood about him, which was both disturbing and frightening. “You will not last long here.”

As suddenly as the knight approached her, he stepped back. “That’s all for now. You are not allowed to leave the house. Without an escort.”

“Come again?” Reina couldn’t believe what she had just heard. What was the point of her being here then? “You can’t be serious! Am I supposed to piss and shit in my room like an animal?”

Reina smiled seeing the knight go silent and for the first time appear confused. Actually, the more she thought about it, and the longer it took for the servant to answer this simple question, the more terrifying the thought became. She had meant the comment as a jab, under the presumption that there was an outhouse in the yard.

“There is a bath.” The knight paused for a moment looking at the door leading to the First Witch’s room. “I’ll talk with Alice.”

“So, what am I supposed to do then?” The girl crossed her arms on her chest, refusing to be a prisoner.

“Cook, clean, cater. Those are your task.” He counted on the fingers of his left hand as he spoke. “Adequate for your skills.”

“Who do you think I am?” The girl shouted; all fear forgotten in an instant at the slight. “I’m not a servant! I’m…”

“Don’t be mistaken. Right now, you are Alice’s new pet. She took you, just to spite Margo.” The knight took a few steps back and placed his gauntlet on the handle of the door to the living room. “Her interest in you is. Temporary.”

Impossible. There had to be a mistake. Reina wasn’t some incompetent slave; she was one of the most promising witches of her generation. Surely the First Witch had recognised her potential to take her as an apprentice. Enough was enough. This servant would regret his words, the moment she had the time to speak with Mistress Alice. Her emotions must’ve shown on her face because the knight shrugged and grabbed her by the wrist.

“I can end your life. With ease…”

“You are being too noisy, Arthur.” An unnatural voice passed through the corridor, like a whispering winter draft. “Need I remind you that we have guests over? You can play with the little one later.”

Reina shivered at the demon’s attention. This was no discarded fiend from the Infernal Realm, she guessed, to have remained hidden even when speaking. Not to mention that casting its voice so that it can be heard in the material world was something restricted to the greater demons.

Without a word, Arthur pulled her closer to him. His grip was hard enough, that the young witch felt as if he was going to break the bones in her shoulder. Silently, the man took a step back and opened the door to the living room with a fluid motion. It a second for Reina to realise that she was the only one the occupants of the room could see. Usually, she was proud of being quick on her feet and would have knelt in deference to her betters. However, she was stunned and speechless by the conversation her abrupt entrance has interrupted.

“… and I told her to shove that stick up his ass if she wants to save her marriage…” It was impossible for Reina to mistake the First Witch, despite her sounding like a drunk lumberjack. Alice's jade green eyes moved away from her guest and with a coy smile, she addressed the girl. “Who might you be?”

Reina was outraged, hurt and not a little frightened by the question. Still, she managed to reign in her emotions and lower her head in an apology as she whispered. “Reina, madam. Reina Sylvestre. I was under the impression that I was to be your apprentice…”

“Oh! Right!” Alce clapped her hands and her guests joined in her laugh. “Pardon me, dear, I’ve been a tad absentminded lately. Completely forgot you were here. Do forgive me.”

Reina felt more confused than ever. Was this the same arrogant woman, who had dismissed the Great Margo as if she were a spoiled child? Or was it that her guests were people of significant importance to have someone like the First Witch be on her best behaviour? Unlikely, Reina surmised as she stole a glance at each of the four people sitting on the comfy furniture around a short table. At best, they appeared like dirty, unscrupulous bandits. The kind the Covenant of Shadow would discreetly command from time to time to burn secluded hamlets when in need of specific human sacrifice. There was no difference in terms of appearance. Rusty, beaten armour pieces covered patched unwashed clothing which in its better days would have passed as a beggar’s rags. No matter how the young witch looked at them, they were a sorry bunch. However, there were plenty of signs that indicated that those people were quite competent bandits.

“Allow me to introduce you,” Alice chimed and point at the duo sitting opposite her. The two men had a similar gaunt appearance, dishevelled brownish hair and near identical piercing dark eyes. “That’s Indigo and his younger brother Crimson. And on their right is the lovely miss Marka of Coo’Nan.”

The woman in question nodded her head, while Reina was captivated by her strange red-coloured skin. It was almost as if Marka was made out of clay, a statue given animation through esoteric means. At first, the girl had confused her for a man because of her height and wide jaw, but now that she had a better look, she was willing to admit her mistake.

“As for the young man, who is shamelessly ogling you, that would be Ugo Himmel,” although everyone laughed and there were a couple of crude remarks, Reina noticed the slight shift in Alice’s tone.

The round face of the man in question turned scarlet and he hurriedly turned his head away. His heavy frame shifted uncomfortably on the chair he was occupying. Despite appearing to be in possession of significant extra weight, the man's motions betrayed dexterity and control that shouldn’t be possible for someone with his physique.

“Last is Marshal Thule the Silent. A man dear to my heart.” Alice’s kind smile made Reina feel uneasy, regardless that it was directed at the old man sitting furthest away from the gathered people.

And what a man the Silent was. Well over his fifties, lean and with the right side of his face a horrid mess of scars, which exposed a small piece of his low cheekbone. Whatever had caused such a grievous wound, hadn’t been satisfied with ruining his face and eye, as the scars continued along his shaven scalp. Marshal ran his fingers along his braided white beard and nodded. His good light brown left eye never moved away from Reina. In that single moment, she realised that she was looking at a born killer.

“Do not be frightened, my dear,” Alice smiled at the young witch and winked. “Once you get to know them, you’ll realise that that they are a lovely bunch of brigands.”

“Now that’s a harsh assessment, Lady Alice,” Marka remarked with a cheerful smile of her own in a rough tone, which made her ‘t’s sound like ‘d’s.

“Well, you did try to break into my home when I first met you,” the First Witch bit back, obviously touching a painful topic. “Anyway, that’s in the past. These fine gentlemen and Marka, are hunters which hunt some beasts for me from time to time. Now, be a dear and prepare us some tea.”

“You can’t seriously say that there is nothing suspicious about this place!” Ugo spat once they had entered the Wilds.

“Keep your mouth shut.” Indigo hissed at him; all the previous mirth gone from his voice.

Marshal couldn’t blame the youngster for feeling paranoid and out of place. This was his first visit to Alice’s home and that place stuck out like a sore thumb. These parts of the Wilds were dangerous, which was saying a lot. After all, the wilderness surrounding the villages and towns which formed the Faust Line was inherently dangerous, but nothing their group couldn’t handle. Except for the region known as the Noxious Forest. A vast stretch of land, separating the northernmost town of the Faust Line, Alterberg, and the southernmost city of Maurice's Collective, Glass Lake. The distance between the two was just four or five kilometres, but trade caravans and travellers would rather spend three days going around the Noxious Forest than risk taking the dangerous paths across it.

There were only two reasons Marshal and his hunters travelled this part of the Wilds. First, they had ‘volunteered’ to keep the monsters which called the Forest home in check and away from the towns of the Faust Line. Not that the ruler back at Salt Town had given them much of a choice. It was either this, rot in the salt mines or be executed for their various crimes. Nor were they the only group of hunters who tried to survive out here. It just so happened that they were the best.

The second reason was far more important to Marshal. It was Alice herself. Her balms, medicine and ointments were the secrets behind their survival for the last ten years. And that was without taking into account all the information and advice she provided on rare occasions. All for the price of breaking the law from time to time, by hunting monsters and beasts outside of the Noxious Forests. One look at the oasis that was the woman’s home, was enough to strike fear in the old hunter’s very soul. A patch of land, untouched by the corruption of the Wilds, surrounded by a white picket fence roughly a hundred meters in diameter. Only a dead man wouldn’t find such a place suspicious. If it wasn’t for the cow-sized Ghoul Spiders chasing them, Marshal would have never approached the house.

Fate, however, was a fickle thing and on that day, it was on his side. Alice had welcomed them into her home, healed their wounds and allowed them to spend a few days to recover their strength. That alone was enough to place Marshal forever in her debt. Although a former thief and a murderer, he had morals and honour, and such kindness could never be repaid.

“I’m just saying, this looks a lot like witchcraft,” the youngster persisted despite the warning.

“Damn it, Ugo! Shut it, or I swear I’ll shove your head in your ass.” Marka emphasized the threat by grabbing the newest member of their group with one hand, while her other formed a fist.

Marshal shook his head. They all knew that Alice was most likely a witch, but it was an unspoken rule that they never bring this topic up. Mostly because they were willing to turn a blind eye to the obvious, and partly out of fear of what might happen should they turn their closest ally into an enemy. Especially if she was a witch. Still, he couldn’t allow a fight to break out, when near Alice’s home. There was no telling who or what might be listening to them.

The old hunter slammed his fist against his chest plate attracting everyone’s attention. It was moments like this that made Marshal regret losing his tongue to the Flathead Centipede which had savaged him on his first day in this foul place. However, through hard work and many tries, he developed a rudimentary form of communication with his fellow hunters. It wasn’t perfect and left a lot to interpretation, but it was good enough.

“Stop. No fight.” He motioned rapidly, before giving them a toothy grin. “Time for hunt.”