Pumpkin Spice, стр. 13
say, nothing based on fact. The Mapap threatened Sybil to keep quiet or she would lose her position on the council. This was something the Bruja and Hexe’s wanted for a long time. Sybil was not a typical politician, she was young at age seven-hundred and two, naïve, and of course had no experience with humans.
It was that last fact that entered Esthrum’s mind when he decided not to expel Sybil from the council (doing so would cause quite a stir in the witching community, and he needed their vote if this marriage and half-breed birth were to happen). An idea crossed the head witch’s bright mind. He would order Sybil to the human realm. There she would learn more about the inhabitants of the weaker species, and most importantly she would find a woman for him to court. He warned her not to be noticed as a witch, for the consequence would be certain death. As far as the Mapap and the rest of the council were concerned Sybil’s death would not be a bad thing, but it was his duty to warn her.
Bathomir and Madeline assisted in Sybil’s departure preparations. They helped conjure up wardrobes that would be ideal for the era of mankind she would be walking into. They taught her of politics, and of the current president of the country. Once Sybil had absorbed all the information, they instructed her to tell the locals when asked, that her occupation was a “healer.” The only time she would be able to use her witch abilities would be during illness and infection of the human race. Even then she could not be caught doing so, for if she was, she would be killed.
Bathomir escorted Sybil to the woods. There stood a tree, the largest tree she had ever seen. It was as high as the sky and as wide as a house. Bahtomir knocked on the trunk once, twice, three times. Two large black holes appeared a top the tree. The tree now had a face. “Who dare disturb my slumber?” A hollow deafening tone asked. “Bathomir and Sybil of the witching council. We wish to venture to the other side. For scientific purposes.” The tree remained silent for a moment, then took a breath. “Very well Bathomir and Sybil of the witchig council. Heed my warning, stay hidden or the reaper will reap your soul.”
A pathway opened at the mouth of the trunk. Bathomir pointed “Be on your way.” He stated, “Our future lies within your hands. Find Esthrum, our Mapap a bride. Save the witches.” He watched as Sybil entered the trunk of the tree.
Darkness surrounded the witch. She could hear her footsteps beneath her, this was the only evidence she had that she was moving at all. She could see no light at the end of the tunnel. It was cold, dark, her feet were wet and sticky. Vibrations occurred every few minutes above her, she assumed it was birds flapping in the sky above the tree which currently housed her, if it were even a tree. She had never experienced the likes of this before.
It was soon bright. Sybil had to shield her eyes from the sun. The witching realm had never seen such a bright day. She looked around at her surroundings. The forest appeared the same. The tree she had entered stood behind her as large as it had been on the other side.
She walked along the woods in awe. The sky was so blue, the grass so green. There was colour everywhere. As she turned around, she bumped into something, or should I say someone? His name as Madok, and he was the town constable. Sibyl fell to the ground with a thump. Madok felt embarrassed. He looked down at the beautiful Sibyl. He was enchanted by her beauty, “I’m so sorry. I did not see you there.” The constable helped the witch to her feet. “Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Constable Madok.” Sibyl stood on her feet, she brushed the dust from her dress and smiled at the constable, “I’m Sibyl. A healer.” Madok’s ears perked up, “A healer you say. Of medical value?” Sibyl was confused at the question, “Is that not what a healer does around here?” She asked innocently, “No no, of course. I just mean that we are short a healer. That is to say that recently, and very ironically, our healer passed away from an illness.” Madok asked Sibyl if she was for hire, to which she nodded.
He took the strange back to his office and discussed her payment, along with setting her up with a place to live.
Sibyl would live in the house of the town priest Father Michelle. He had just moved to town from France six weeks prior, and had he known his new roommate was a witch he surely would have moved back. She set her room up the way she wanted, and seeing she lived with a priest there would be no reason to believe he would venture into her quarters. She had a cauldron in the back, three candles on her desk, and a broomstick by the door; in case of emergencies.
As the town healer her duties were simple: Heal. She saw several patients a day, more than she suspected, but she was happy to help those in need. The constable would check in on her constantly, so much so in fact the two developed a rapport with one another and dare I saw an attraction? Madok asked the witch to dine with him one evening, to which she agreed. It didn’t take long before their