12 Sorcery

'Did I kill it?' He raised his leg and kicked the chair as one would to an insect, checking whether or not it was alive.

He stared at 'its' unmoving figure for a while before 'its' leg twitched. Roland sighed in relief yet, he was a bit disappointed.

'So, 'it's' still alive. Sadly'.

He performed a series of breathing exercises and went back to his original seating. An hour passed. Donall walked into the chamber with a poker face. His eyes scanned the room before stopping on the witch; his brows creased.

"What happened?" he eyed Roland.

Roland, who had his head on the desk looked up after hearing Donall's voice. He straightened himself and tried his best to put on a poker face. His emotions go the best of him and a look of disgust washed over him but, it left as quickly as it appeared.

He shrugged, indicating that he was unaware of what had happened.

Donall walked towards the witch and pulled the chair upwards back into a seating position.

Its eyes were closed but its usual smile was etched on its face.

"Anna?" Donall called it by name. It opened its eyes and looked towards Donall.

"What?" its voice was not deep and husky like before. Instead, it sounded soft and quite soothing which caused Roland's eyes to twitch.

'Sorcery!' Roland taught to himself.

As though reading Roland's mind, the witch turned towards him, smiling from ear to ear and gave him a wink.

He really wanted to strangle her right there and then.

"We're a bit behind on your lessons your highness but, I am going to have to cancel today's class" Donall spoke up "An issue has come up that needs to be dealt with by the church. My apologies".

"Ok" Roland shrugged it off, not quite interested in his lessons, stood up and walked towards the door.

"I'll brief Barov after the issue has been sorted out".

Roland nodded and quickly exited the chamber.

"If he survives that is". Donall mumbled under his breath, a fire burning in his eyes.

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'I've got so much free time that I don't know what to do with myself'.

He walked in the streets without a care in the world.

'I still need answers about this situation that I'm in, but where do I start? Who do I turn to? Where's this Trading Club? What is it? If by chance they 'revived' me, then they'd be able to help me out. But where do I find it?'

He kicked a pebbled out of sheer frustration, losing his balance in the process and falling flat on his arse. His body hunched over and head hung low, he attracted some onlookers.

'I feel so stressed and worn out'.

He could almost hear his mother berating him, had she heard him utter out those words.

'Stressed? Worn out? You sit on your ass every single day. Do you know what I had to go through? I started working at thirteen.....'

He raised his head and jumped in shock as his eyes came in contact with a pair of dull ones. He leaned his head back to increase the distance between himself and the figure facing him.

'Isn't he that guy from before?'

An image of his first encounter with the mysterious figure from before popped up in his mind;

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"I need to hide, I need to hide, I need to hide, I need to hide, I need to hide, I need to hide, I need to hide, I need to hide, I need to hide, I need to hide, I need to hide, I need to hide. Where to go? Where to go? Where to go? Where to go? Where to go?

I can't get caught again, no I can't. I can't take it. Maybe I should just kill myself. Yeah, I should. My a*s can rot with the little pride I have left"

The man laughed maniacally.

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He stared at the figure that was stooping before him; stiff.

'What is it this time?'

"You, follow me" the man stood up and walked towards the alley in which Roland saw him for the first time.

Unsure of what to make of the situation, Roland stood up and dusted himself off and followed the man's figure.