The boy lies in the slums. His back against the brick wall at the end of the alleyway as he gazes forwards. Off in the distance he can see the city. A bright place of light and wonder that he’s never been allowed to enter. He remembers when he’d been a kid and had wanted nothing more than to be able to go there and feel like he could belong.

  But now, as he looks out at it, he finds that he’d like nothing more than to burn it to the ground.

  Sadly though, he won’t be burning anything. Hell, he’d be lucky if he simply managed to make it through the night.

  His body feels so weak.

  No matter how hard he tries to move, all he manages is to make himself shake as his hands claw at the cracked blacktop.

  He feels as he gives up, the last bit of his strength leaving him, and he lets his eyes closes.

  “Well this is just horrible,” a voice says. The boy feels as something pokes his head. “Hey, hey, Runt. You still among the living?”

  A set of fingers suddenly pries open one of his eyes and the boy is forced to look. There’s a woman kneeling in front of him. She’s dressed in an unusual outfit. Leather boots that come up to her knees, pants that cling to her thighs, a belt that’s covered in pouches along her left side, a black shirt that’s laced up at the front, and a hooded blood-red coat that comes down to her thighs. She looks like she’d be fairly young, but her long black hair has a streak of silver that seems to be emerging from her left temple, and her eyes are a bright shade of brown.

  “So, you alive or what?” She says. She scowls. “You should know, if you don’t say something, I’m going to assume you’re dead and then I’m definitely going to harvest you for parts. Nothing personal, but you never know when you’ll have a need for an innocent heart.”

  “What?” the boy croaks out.

  “Ah, so you are alive, that’s good, I suppose,” She says. She looks a little disappointed as she reaches into her coat and pulls out a box of cigarettes, she sticks one in her mouth before snapping out a lighter, she takes a heavy drag from it before blowing off to her side. “So what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be inside with your family? It’s not safe for a kid to be outside a place like this at night.”

  The boy feels as he glares without meaning to. “I don’t have a family.”

  “Oh yeah? Neat, me neither,” She says, a bit nonchalantly. She keeps smoking before she leaves the cigarette in her mouth and points at him. “Let me ask, do humans sell their kids too? That’s something I’ve been wondering about for a while now.”

  “I never met them,” He says. He furrows his brow at her. “Your parents sold you?”

  “Yeah, to one mean old bastard to boot,” She says. She takes another puff. “But enough about me, what about you? You’re telling me you’ve got no one and you were just left to die out here?”

  The boy doesn’t have anything to say.

  The woman looks his face over before she sticks her cigarette in her mouth and stands up. “Alright, I think I’ll keep you then.”

  The boy gets confused. “Huh?”

  The woman kneels over, grabs hold of his shoulders, and picks him up with both hands. “Damn, you’re in worse shape than I thought, you feel like a sack of bones that’s running a fever.”

  “Did I look like I was living well?” The boy says.

  “No, you look more like a version of roadkill that was too poor to afford the car,” the woman says. She shrugs. “But who knows, maybe you’ll be useful.”

  She suddenly ends up holding him beneath one of her arms. She pulls her cigarette from her mouth and she snaps her fingers–

  The boy watches with shocked eyes as her cigarette bursts into flames that’re quickly extinguished and change into smoke. The cloud of smoke surges out onto the wall in front of them. Dust falls away from the bricks and reveal a door. The door looks like it would be made out of heavy red wood, outlined in brass metal, and with a matching doorknob.

  “What just happened?” the boy says. “What was that?”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Calm down, it’s just a basic transportation spell,” The woman says.

  “Huh?” he says.

  The woman ignores him as she steps up and pulls the door open. He can smell something nice, almost like moss and various plants. The door swings shut behind them.

  The boy sees that they’re suddenly inside of some kind of giant house. The floors are made of hardwood and with a few scattered carpets. The walls are covered in various objects that’ve been nailed into place: a few picture frames with pieces of artwork, knives and other bladed weapons, and there are also quite a few skulls from varying creatures.

  “Why does that skull have five eyes?” he says, pointing to one that’s close.

  “Oh, that one was from Bertrant, he was a demon,” the woman says. She scowls. “And a terrible boyfriend. He makes for a good decoration though, not gonna lie.”

  “Where are we?” the boy says.

  “My place, I call it The Hallows,” She says. She drops him onto a couch. “You can stay here, I’ll grab a few things that I can use to fix you up.”

  He takes another quick look around. On the wall opposite to the couch there is a large stone hearth set up with a few logs burning. There are a few picture frames set up atop the hearth, along with an assortment of scattered metal items. He also takes a look at the ceiling…

  It takes his breath away for a moment. The ceiling is built into an arch and is painted a brilliant blue, and with golden stars that send their light swirling outwards. The whole thing seems to be glowing.

  He forces himself to focus as he looks back to the woman. “Wait, who are you?”

  “Oh right, we never did the whole “introductions” thing, did we?” the woman says. “Well, most people call me The Rotten Witch, but my name’s Violet Ire, most just call me Vee, and you are?”

  “Um, I’m Gideon,” He says.

  “Nice, what about a surname, do you have one?” Vee says.

  Gideon shakes his head.

  “Figures, I didn’t either,” Vee says. “I think that I’ll call you Higgs.”

  Gideon frowns. “Higgs? What?”

  “It’s your new surname, I think it suits you well,” Vee says, smiling at him. “Now, let’s get you situated.”

  Gideon raises his hand as she steps away. “Wait, why are you doing all of this?”

  Vee shrugs. “Do I need a reason?”

  “Don’t you?” Gideon says.

  “Well, I guess that’s what humans think,” Vee says. “But I’m a Witch, Witches do whatever we want, it’s kind of our thing.”

  She leaves him there and disappears down a hallway. Leaving Gideon there and feeling so confused. His hands go to the couch. The cloth covering it is so soft, it almost reminds him of feathers.

  He feels as he slips to the side, the last thing that’d been holding him up vanishing and he falls down. He feels the softness of the couch against his face and feels as his eyes start to close again.

  He blinks and sees as Vee seems to just suddenly reappear.

  “I can already tell that you’re going to be such a pain,” she says with a sigh. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you fixed up.”

  Gideon’s eyes start to close again, he gets the feeling that they won’t be opening again. “You know, I’m glad that I got to see you before I die,” he says, his words just slipping out. “Can’t remember the last time I felt so… safe.”

  Vee’s voice sounds distant. “Well, “safe” might not be the right word, but we’ll work on that.”

  …

  Gideon wakes up with a gasp. He’s on a table. The far walls are covered in what look like cast-iron pots and pans, there are also quite a few knives of varying shapes and sizes hanging from hooks, and there’s also a large portion of the room that seems to be taken up by another hearth, only this one has a setup designed for cooking. A sensation gets his attention and he realizes that there’s some kind of funnel stuffed into his mouth. His hand swings out and swats the funnel away as he lays there and pants. He sees that the ceiling above him is covered in plants. Almost everything is a vibrant shade of green, and there’s a scattering of multi-colored flowers. He also notices that there are several amber-colored glass lanterns that’re chained to the ceiling.

  Something else… his breathing, it’s easier.

  His hand goes to his chest, the pain from before is gone too.

  “Hey, you said it was Gideon, right?” a voice says. “You mind if I call you Gid?”

  Gideon looks to the side and sees that Vee is sitting in a chair beside the table with a sandwich in her hand.

  “So… all that was real?” Gideon says.

  Vee snickers. “Wait, did you think you’d imagined the whole thing? Ah, you humans are so adorable sometimes,” she says. She takes a bite from her sandwich before holding up a glass flask. “Anyway, I managed to fix you up, I just had to make you a pretty strong health-restoring potion, and then I just forced it and some protein sludge down your throat. Not my best work, but the results seem to speak for themselves. Guess you won’t be biting the dust yet.”

  “You’re a witch?” Gideon says, still not fully believing it. “A real witch?”

  “Yep, it’s not as glamorous as your movies make it out to be,” Vee says. “But it sure beats the hell out of living like a human.”

  Gideon sits up and checks himself over. All of his usual pains are gone. There’s even some new muscle on his body now.

  He feels a confidence in his movements now that wasn’t there before.

  “So, what happens how?” Gideon says.

  “Well, I have been looking for a helper,” Vee says. “How old are you, by the way?”

  “I’m 11,” Gideon says.

  “Neat, welcome to child-labor,” Vee says with a smile. At his expression she laughs. “Don’t worry, I started out in child-labor and I turned out great.”

  She holds out half of her sandwich to offer it to him. “So, here’s the deal, you can help me with odds and ends, in return you get three square meals a day, and this’ll be a live-in position,” Vee says. “You up for it?”

  Gideon takes a moment to process what she’s saying. But the part that really gives him pause is the fact that she’s giving him a choice. He can’t remember the last time an adult gave him the right to decide something for himself and didn’t just give him an order.

  He takes the sandwich from her hand. “I’d like that very much, Ma’am.”

  “Come on, I said you can call me Vee,” She says. “Anyway, you can finish that and then I’ll give you your first chores.”

  …