The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Arcane Acts
by Elizabeth H. Smith

My cowl drenched, I journeyed to the secret place, the secret place I stumbled upon last Spring. Village lore spoke of a forest witch with a long nose and white, ragged hair. But the woman I grew to know was quite beautiful, and kind. When I first found her cottage, she welcomed me in, offered a cup of tea, and we talked for hours. She was certainly kinder than anyone I knew from home.

When I returned that first night, I had to lie. I had to tell my family that I’d gotten lost in the woods. But I was never lost, rather the opposite. I’d been found.

The forest woman taught me many things, things I could never speak of. I used those skills in secret; I helped a neighbor overcome a bad cough, I endowed those who had no joy with a spark, I even brought a little luck to a man who had none.

But no one knew it was me. And no one could know, else I’d be imprisoned or worse, if I was discovered. So I did good deeds in secret. I was happy to do so, I didn’t seek recognition or praise, nor anything in return.

I suppose that was why the forest woman didn’t mind teaching me all she knew. Maybe she saw good in me. Perhaps she trusted I wouldn’t use those gifts for harm; easy as it would have been. But cruelty was never in my nature, no matter how harsh the world could be.

The last time I went to visit, I found her cabin was burned to ash. Luckily, the rain doused it before it spread to the surrounding flora. All that survived the fire was the desk she had loved so much. I grabbed a stack of wet parchment and slid it into my coat.

Just then, a vision struck me like lightning. I saw how the fire started, it was no act of nature. Before it consumed her, she’d imbued the parchment with a single request—revenge.

I suppose I’ll have to adapt my nature to return her gift.

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Fiction © Copyright Elizabeth H. Smith
Image courtesy of Pixabay

More About Elizabeth H. Smith:
Elizabeth H. Smith is a storyteller who writes while trying to keep her cat, Luna off the keyboard. The musical group, Rasputina is her muse. She was born in the state of New York and would never feel at home anywhere else.