Chapter 4: The Witch's Defense
The murmur of the village grew louder as word of Lyra's awakening spread. Fear was palpable in the air. The Church's teachings about witches had rooted themselves deep in the minds of these simple folk. Witches were said to be minions of the devil, evil incarnate, and in times of fear, they turned to what they had been taught: kill the witch before she could bring ruin upon them.
I watched from the window of my manor as the crowd gathered, whispering anxiously, looking to my estate for answers. It was only a matter of time before someone would try to take matters into their own hands.
Lyra sat nervously in the corner of the room, still coming to terms with her newfound power. I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"Don't worry," I said softly. "I promised you safety, and I intend to keep that promise."
I stepped out into the courtyard, calling my guards to my side. "Gather the villagers at the town square. I will address them."
With a nod, they hurried off to carry out my orders, and I turned back to Lyra. "You'll come with me. It's time they saw the truth for themselves."
---
An hour later, the square was filled with villagers. They stood in tense silence, their eyes darting between one another as the guards kept a watchful presence. At the center, a platform had been erected, and I walked up with Lyra by my side. She stayed close, her expression frightened, but resolute.
The crowd's reaction was immediate. There were gasps, whispers, even glares from some who had likely been the first to suggest her execution. They looked at Lyra as if she were a monster in human skin. It was exactly what I expected, but it didn't make the situation any less tense.
I raised my hand, demanding silence. Slowly, the murmurs faded, and I could feel the weight of their eyes upon me.
"People of my lands," I began, my voice carrying over the crowd. "I stand before you today not just as your lord, but as someone who swore an oath to protect all within these borders—whether they are peasant, noble, or witch."
The word "witch" sent a ripple of unease through the crowd, but I pressed on.
"Many of you know Lyra," I said, gesturing toward her. "She is not a stranger to this village. You've seen her grow up, work the fields, and live among you. And now, because of something beyond her control, you fear her. You would see her dead because the Church tells you that witches are evil."
I paused, letting that hang in the air for a moment.
"But I ask you this: what evil has Lyra done?" I turned to the crowd, searching their faces. "Has she cursed anyone? Brought death or misfortune? No. She has done none of these things, and you all know it."
Murmurs started again, but quieter this time. Some of the villagers seemed to hesitate, glancing toward each other as if uncertain of their own thoughts.
"The Church has lied to you," I continued. "Not all witches are evil. Their powers are not a curse, but a gift. One that can be used for good, for the benefit of all of us. I am your lord, and it is my responsibility to make the rules of this land—not the Church, not fear, and certainly not superstition."
I stepped forward, my voice rising with conviction. "I will protect all who live here, whether they are a common villager or a witch. But let me be clear: I will also punish anyone who seeks to harm others, witch or not. It is not power that makes one evil—it is how they use it."
The crowd was silent now, hanging on my every word. I could see doubt in their eyes, but also curiosity. They were not so certain anymore.
"And to prove my point," I said, turning to Lyra, "I will show you just how valuable Lyra's power is."
---
I led Lyra to the edge of the village, where the main road stretched outward toward the wilderness. With a few words of encouragement, she stood before the open ground, her hands trembling at first but then growing steady as she focused.
"Show them, Lyra," I said softly.
Taking a deep breath, Lyra reached out with her mind, and before the astonished eyes of the villagers, the earth itself began to move. Slowly at first, the ground rumbled and shifted, rising upward in a controlled wave. Dirt and stone swirled together, forming a barrier—a wall, ten feet high, surrounding the village in a protective ring.
Gasps erupted from the crowd, their awe palpable.
"Do you see?" I asked them. "This is no curse. This is a gift. Lyra can protect us, help us. Would you turn away such power, just because of a lie? Or will you accept the truth and welcome her as one of your own?"
The silence that followed felt like a lifetime. Then, slowly, one by one, heads began to nod. The fear in their eyes dimmed, replaced with something resembling hope, or perhaps relief. They were still uncertain, but they no longer seemed on the edge of violence.
---
Lyra's Choice
After the demonstration, I walked with Lyra back to her family's home. Her parents were waiting at the door, their expressions a mixture of fear and uncertainty. When I asked if she would stay with me at the manor to better learn to control her powers, her father hesitated.
But it was her mother who spoke first, a hint of pride in her voice. "Our Lord has spoken," she said softly, yet firmly. "He means to take care of you, Lyra. You must go with him."
Her father nodded, though his eyes were filled with worry. "He's the Lord. He will do right by you."
I could see it in their eyes—they believed I was taking their daughter under my care for... other reasons. But for now, I didn't correct them. It was better for Lyra to be with me where I could keep her safe. Her powers were still raw and untapped, and I needed to ensure she remained loyal to me.
---
A Visit with a Noble
The next day, I received an invitation from a local noble, Lord Merek, who governed a small but wealthy territory nearby. I had anticipated this; my public defiance of the Church was bound to draw attention.
Lord Merek welcomed me into his grand estate, his manner polite but guarded.
"You've been making waves, my lord," he said as we sat in his study. "Allowing a witch to live in defiance of the Church's teachings... it's a bold move."
I met his gaze, unwavering. "I make decisions for the benefit of my people, not for the Church."
He leaned back in his chair, a faint smile playing on his lips. "An interesting stance. The Church is not so easily dismissed. But I'll be frank with you—I don't care much for their doctrines either. What I care about is my family. My son, in particular. He's been sick for years, and the Church's prayers have done nothing to heal him."
I leaned forward slightly, sensing an opportunity. "You're not looking for prayers, Lord Merek. You're looking for results."
He raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "And you think you can provide that?"
I smiled faintly. "I'm not just a baron, Lord Merek. My knowledge extends far beyond what the Church or even most physicians of this world understand. I can heal your son—but I'll need something in return."
Lord Merek's expression grew serious. "And what is it you're asking for?"
"I want your support," I said bluntly. "In time, I'll need allies who are willing to stand against the Church when the time comes. And should any witches be discovered in your territory, I expect you to send them to me, rather than to the Church."
He considered this for a long moment, weighing the risks. "You're asking me to commit treason in the eyes of the Church."
"I'm asking you to secure your family's future," I countered. "Your son will die if he doesn't receive the proper treatment. You know that. The Church's remedies have failed him, but mine won't."
The room fell into a heavy silence as Lord Merek tapped his fingers on the armrest of his chair. Finally, he gave a slow nod. "If you can heal my son, I'll ensure any witches in my domain find their way to you. And I'll keep the Church off your back as long as I can."
"Then we have a deal." I extended my hand, and after a moment's hesitation, he took it, sealing the agreement.
"Bring your son to me as soon as possible," I said. "I'll need to assess his condition before I can begin treatment."
Lord Merek nodded and rose from his seat. "You're playing a dangerous game, my lord. But it seems we both have something to gain."
I couldn't help but smile. "Dangerous or not, it's a game worth playing."
As I left Lord Merek's estate, the pieces of my plan began to fall into place. The witches would come to me, slowly but surely. With Lyra by my side and Lord Merek as an ally, my influence was starting to spread beyond my own borders. I would gather more witches, build my army, and, eventually, the world would recognize that the power of witches was not to be feared—but respected.
And as for Roland, well... he was still five years away from his fateful arrival in Graycastle.
By then, I intended to be too far ahead for him to ever catch up.