1 The Fall (Part I)

Witchtales. The witches never had their own children, but many witches did not live to adulthood and were afraid of the that day. They had few stories and fairy tales, and only one well known among all witches: a fairy tale about a witch named Fall, who fears nothing.

The Fall. The autumn forest was quiet and soundless. Snowflakes fell on the cold ground of a small glade near the forest road slowly and noiseless, they gave mourning calm to the terrible event. All bad things always begin with trifles. At first the horse was exhausted. Due to fatigue, she stumbled and twisted her leg. The wild ride lasted almost an hour and the aging mare was just tired. She fell down and pulled the gelding behind her, and the latter overturned the cart.

From the blow the young woman fell out of the cart and hit the ground. Preterm birth began. The freezing autumn forest was not suitable for bringing a new life into it, but it's useless to argue with nature. Her husband understood everything at a glance. They had no chance to survive before, and now it only remained to fight till the end. He grinned, kissed his wife's forehead, found a pitchfork in the overturned pile of hay and squeezed it tightly. When he turned away, his wife gritted her teeth in pain and pulled out a small knife from behind the boot. She also intended to fight to the last.

If they had not lingered, collecting the last hay from the field, then they would have a chance to move before... A wild and deafening howl pierced the forest, and he was answered by dozens of new voices. The pack flew out of the forest and crumbled into a crescent, surrounding the prey. People were just a nice addition to two pieces of meat more. No matter how strong the peasant was and skillful with pitchfork, his fate was sealed. The battle was swift and cruel. All the sounds of the struggle subsided in less than two minutes. The demonic wolves paid for dinner with three of their kind, and were about to begin the meal, when their spiteful roar gave way to a yelping of fear and pain.

Six times an evil and cold light flashed over the glade, six wolves turned into torches rolling on the ground till they dead. The leader of the pack wailed a new song and the wolves organized retreated, recognizing the right of a stronger one. Two somewhat similar women in hunting suits stepped onto the glade. One of them played with a blue ball of pure fire, while the other went to the dead. Snow covered with heavy flakes bodies of people, wolves and horses, hay, simple peasant's belongings, a broken pot with milk, a nibbled piece of bread and the blood of people, cattle and monsters that began to stiffen.

Witches stood silently over the body of a woman, they did not even breathe while the younger tried to save the child. In the soundless of the world was born a new sound - a faint child's cry, indicating eternal victory of life over death and hope over despair.

"Sister, it's a girl!" - exclaimed the witch and could not hold back tears.

Her friend pulled a rag from the saddlebag and wrapped the baby.

"She's strange." "A baby can not have magic power," - the older sister looked at the child from all sides and could not understand.

"Maybe it's because of the blood of demon wolves? There it is all around,"- the younger suggested.

"You need to give it to the Quest Society, if we don't find relatives."

"And yet, she's strange."