#In case you were wondering yes the title is based off of CJ Cherryh's book Fortress in the Eye of Time

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The Witch of Emwy - Chapter 1 (and the only chapter you will ever see)

Be kind, I wrote this age 14 :')

****

Immortality, the thing many sought after, all across time. Everyone yearned for it. Everyone except her. Perhaps that was why the gods granted her that, to turn her into a great cosmic joke. She certainly felt like one. The 'wise' and 'powerful' Obsidian Emwy, Protector of the Caverns of Time, Chosen One of the Gods, Time Witch, etc etc. She never asked for anything of the sort.

How she despised those gods, treating her like a plaything and her life like a particularly amusing puppet show. No, not even that. Toys were treated well, tucked back into their boxes and left to rest. All she got was heckling and a lack of peace and privacy. But as much as she loathed them and dreaded their meddling, there was one thing she detested more than even the gods.

Mortals.

Foolish, clumsy, disgusting creatures. Her lair was decorated with their remains and weapons. She had to have slain each and every one within a hundred leagues radius. Yet still they came, wielding swords aplenty, with their clanking armor. They made such noise, disrupted the wonderful quiet and trampled the gorgeous flowers that sprouted up everywhere. Worst of all, they called her names, from mildly deriding ones like 'Witch', to full blown insults such as 'Abomination', or 'Monstrosity from the Depths of Hell, Evil Incarnate who Lives only to be Slain'. She actually enjoyed killing those bastards.

Obsidian was leaning against her cave, half-asleep, when she heard the telltale sign of rattling metal. Heaving an irritated sigh, she got up. "It's almost time for my nap. Why will they never come in the morning, when I am not asleep?" She muttered. Gripping her scepter in one hand and rubbing her eyes with the other, she stepped out into the blazing sun, to face a horde of knights.

They rode warhorses, worth their weight in gold, regal creatures that moved with grace and style. She rather liked them, and briefly toyed with the idea of keeping them after she killed the humans. The knights looked like a set of dolls built from the same mold. All had the pale skin with golden hair, chiseled facial features that were heavily scarred, and all wore heavy armor. They stared at her.

The tallest one, aboard a black horse, spoke. "O Great Witch, we-"

"Let's get this over with. I'm tired and I want to sleep," Obsidian said, cutting him off. She had heard a million variations of this speech, and had no desire to hear another. It was always the same thing. 'We have come to end your reign of tyranny upon this land', 'We have come to slay you and lay your wretched body to peace'. Did they not get the message? She did not want the darn speech, or even for any of them to come at all. She just wanted to live life peacefully.

"Lady Witch, please hea-"

Obsidian did not want to hear it, and smashed her scepter into the ground in front of the horse. It spooked, rearing up, which threw the knight off and onto the ground in an undignified manner. She prepared a spell, reaching for her magic, only to find that it was blocked off. She was tired, but surely not so tired as to be incapable of wielding magic? While she was pondered the issue, a rogue snuck up behind her and clubbed her in the back of her head. She fell forward, catching her leg on a bramble. It made a long, painful gash, and she found herself entangled in it.

Struggling to her knees, Obsidian reached again for her power, to no avail. Whatever had happened, she had lost her greatest strength. But she was not about to let a bunch of humans defeat her. She reached for her scepter, but an armored foot kicked it away. She was trapped, surrounded, and utterly outnumbered. 

"So, this is it? A bunch of whiny, sniveling cowards finally bested me. Go ahead. End it. I will not give you bastards the satisfaction of seeing me beg for my life. Go on. I dare you." Her last words came out in a snarl, far harsher than she thought herself capable of. Perhaps she genuinely meant it, even though she was in no real danger. A few knights flinched, and she let out a snicker. Cowards indeed, just like all other mortals.

"Please, you mistake our intentions. We wish for your assistance, Great Witch. Our grand and fine kingdom, Luxatia, is in danger, and we have been charged with getting your help to save it." The tallest one spoke again, his voice gently pleading.

Obsidian spat a mixture of blood and saliva at the ground near his feet. "And why should I help you? What do I care for some foolish humans and their foolish society?" The blunt trauma to her head was healing quickly, and her bramble wound was already gone, not even leaving a scar. Her plan to stall until she was fully healed was working perfectly, and those idiots were playing right into her hands.

"Because you will die otherwise." The bastard who clubbed her in the head spoke, sliding a knife across her throat. She could feel the sharp edge of it.

Obsidian threw her head back and cackled. Threatening her with Death, when she was his champion. What fools. "Go ahead, stupid little mortal," she sneered.

The rogue went red in the face with rage. He pressed the knife against her neck, and she could feel the warm droplets of blood sliding down her neck. It did not hurt, strangely. She thought it would hurt more than that. No matter. It would heal immediately.

"Stop at once, Ralf!" The lead knight hastily rushed over, pulling the rogue off Obsidian, who was still shaking with laughter. "Lady Witch, please forgive us." He said to her, offering a hand. Idiot.

She grabbed it, threw him down, grabbed the knife and attempted to stab the chinks in his metal armor. A blast of dazzling, cold light interrupted her. It was followed by a blast of wind, which stole her knife away and knocked her to her knees. 

A voice, deep and rich like melted gold, spoke. "My dearest child, whatever do you think you are doing? Did you not get the message? I charge you to assist these knights to the fullest of your abilities. I expect them to succeed, or you to die trying." The light faded to reveal a majestic figure. She was inhumanly tall, clad in fine white silk, and she wore bracelets of golden light. Her circlet of black stood out against the gold of her hair, and her eyes were closed, long lashes brushing each other. Even still, they emanated light through her eyelids.

Obsidian let out a groan of irritation. "Solaria. How. Nice. To. See. You. Your. Wish. Is. My. Command." She gritted her teeth and spat out the words. Each one was an effort to say.

Solaria, goddess of light, was a constant thorn in her side. Solaria always ordered her around, often to do the most menial of tasks. And once again, her Gloriousness had gotten it into her undersized godly skull to give out yet another ridiculous command. Help them? Those stupid kingdoms rose and fell incessantly! There was no point in preserving one for a few more moments.

The knights around her stood silently, stunned and in awe. Then they jostled one another and fell to their knees in a prayer position, arms on top of their heads. Solaria let out a laugh. It sounded like wind chimes, jangling on Obsidian's nerves. "Children, your task is nigh-insurmountable. I hope you will make full use of my Chosen One's abilities. I suspect they will come in handy." She purposefully ignored Obsidian's glare. Still wearing a self-satisfied smirk, she raised her arms and disappeared in a flash of light, leaving the group temporarily blinded.

Everyone stood in stunned silence. Some of the knights were still groveling. Obsidian got up, brushed the dirt off her trousers, and retrieved her scepter. "Alright then, I guess I shall accompany you. Do not expect me to help out with any basic chores," she said in the haughtiest voice she could manage. "To where are we headed?"

The knights snapped out of their reverie at the sound of her voice. The lead knight said,"Lady Witch, we are going to the capital to report our success in your recruitment. Then, we shall head into the thick of the battle. I am Sir Waldo Humphrey, and my knights and I are the Battalion of Gilded Heroes. With you, we will be fighting-"

She raised her voice and cut Humphrey off. "Before we head off, I have two requests. Firstly, I'm not a witch. I'm not a lady. I am Obsidian Emwy. You can call me Ewmy, or Obsidian. Do not, ever, call me Lady Witch. Got that?" The knights nodded. "Excellent. Also, I want a horse. Not a mare, nor a farm horse, but one of those proper warhorses. The kind that are expensive. Now, if you will excuse me, I will be collecting my baggage." 

"Boris, John, you heard what Lady Emwy said. Get the Witch a horse!" Humphrey yelled at two knights. They exchanged looks of discomfort as Obsidian shot them a glare.

She stepped into the cavern that she called home. Over the years, Obsidian had carved out several small enclaves in the cave walls, to use as shelves for her potion books. Her cauldron took center stage, hanging below a natural opening in the cave's roof. She had a bed of heather, which she replaced weekly, and her wool blankets (which she raided from her occasional 'visitors') were piled messily in a corner. After all, she had been about to sleep when she was so rudely interrupted. Obsidian let out a yawn. She looked around the small cave, and felt a deep sense of unhappiness at leaving. It had been her home for so, so long, and she knew she would miss it. She placed her hand on the wall, feeling the thrum of magic, a river flowing just beneath her fingertips. Tears sprang to her eyes, and her throat felt oddly constricted. "Don't worry, Little One, I'll be back before you know it," she whispered. She was not sure if it was to comfort her, or the cave. Its magic welled up, and the walls lit up with a gentle silver glow, making her familiar room appear otherworldly. She grabbed her clothes, broomstick, a wooden spoon, abridged notes and a few potions, wrapped them in a blanket, and headed out. Stopping at the entrance to her cave, she pressed her forehead on the cave wall. "Keep everything safe for me, won't you?" She whispered to the cave. As she stepped out, a bubble encompassed the cave. It was a stasis field, meant to keep her belongings from rotting, decomposing, or otherwise being ruined while she was gone.

With that, she stepped away from the cave. Hugging her belongings to her chest, she walked towards the camp where the Knights were preparing to leave. Obsidian felt oddly vulnerable, as though a part of her had been left behind in her cave. It had been so long since she first stepped into that cave. It was like saying goodbye to an old friend, how nostalgia and longing swelled up before you even lost sight of them. It hurt, in a way she had forgotten about. But, at the very least, she would be back, someday. And the cave would still be waiting for her. That was the nice thing about immortal beings. 

A loud crash and a round of swearing interrupted Obsidian's thoughts. Instantly, her scepter glowed with magic and she assumed a combat stance, her possessions still tucked underarm. It took a while to realize that these were her new allies, not another round of irritants. Actually, she mused, they were still irritants. Just ones who happened to be on the same side as her.

Still grumbling to herself about the noise humans made, she strode to the clearing that the knights had made camp in. A herd of horses munched lazily on the grass, tails flicking idly. Standing off to the side, was a strange horse-like creature that caught Obsidian's eye. It was slightly smaller than a horse, with long ears and a bulky figure. Its eyes belied a sharp intelligence, and it oozed disdain for the horses. Obsidian instantly took a liking to it. She went over, picking up an apple that had fallen from a tree en route, and offered it to the animal. It glanced up at her, snorted, and took a large bite. Obsidian smiled. At least someone understood her.

She turned around to see the knight Humphrey called Boris, who was distinguishable only due to a scar on his eyebrow, leading a particularly well groomed horse over. It was jet black, with a long, silky mane. It stood ramrod straight with the kind of magnificence only warhorses had. Yet, the unassuming gray equine behind her still appealed more. 

"What is that creature, and why is it without a saddle?" Obsidian asked, pointing to the animal behind her.

"Witch Emwy, it is a mule. It hauls our wagon, which is where we keep our food and other necessities," Boris said meekly, hunching slightly when Obsidian glared at him for calling her 'Witch'. He appeared to be frightened by her. She approved. 

Wandering around the camp, she was rather astounded by the noise the group made. They seemed intent on bursting the eardrums of everyone in the area. Obsidian decided that she had to take matters into her own hands, before her ears had the opportunity to bleed. With a small burst of magic, she silenced everyone in the area. The instant peace was wonderful, and Obsidian let out a small sigh of relief. 

It was short lived, as Humphrey quickly came over and attempted to demand that she take the spell off at once. When he realized the spell stopped him from speaking, he began waving his arms around and stomping. The whole scene was rather comical, and Obsidian snickered at them.

She tossed her items into the wagon, yanked the blanket out, and wrapped it around her. As she lay against the base of a tree, she told Humphrey, "It'll wear out by midnight. Don't even think of waking me up. Solaria did not give me orders not to hurt you, only to help you. If you dare disturb my sleep, I will make you regret it." Her words, spoken in a deadpan, made Humphrey's face turn pale. Obsidian smirked and closed her eyes.

She was awoken by a soft, wet nose pressing against her cheek. She looked up to see the mule nosing her. It was deep into the night, and the moon shone through the trees, round and glowing with its power. "Thank you, mule," Obsidian mumbled. The mule snorted and shook its head. She had always liked creatures that were neither human nor god. In-betweens, her people had called them. In-betweens, just like her. She saw them as equals when neither humans or gods cared for them. It was one of the reasons she did not have a familiar apart from the Caverns of Time, who was not an actual familiar, merely a close friend and welcome companion in her solitude.

She gently got up, feeling rested, and folded up her blanket. After placing it in the wagon, she walked over to the other side of the tree, where the knights were playing a game of charades around the campfire. Boris was making an exaggerated caricature of a dragon, and everyone else was silently guffawing at him. They were all engrossed in their little charade of battle and dragons.

That was why they did not see the real, actual dragon sneaking up on them.

It was rather small, more of a wyrm than a true dragon. Nevertheless, it was rose above the trees, and the sight of it was enough to make Obsidian's blood run cold. The warm light from the campfire made its amber eyes glow, giving it a fearsome look. Or perhaps that was its magic. Its claws left massive gouges in the ground where it had stepped, and they were wickedly sharp and curved. With its lips curled back, she could see the huge yellow fangs, each as big as her entire head. It cut a terrifying silhouette against the light of the moon. Awe inspiring and terrifying, it brought to mind an old verse that had been sung to her, long ago. 

"Larger than the moon,

Greater than the gods themselves,

The dragon grinds mountains to dust,

Wrecks cities and leaves no victims.

Blood coloured scales, impenetrable,

Claws that crush instantly.

A tail longer than the river,

And breath of blue fire.

Once you see it, 

Nothing will ever compare to its glory."

Obsidian whispered the words under her breath. None of the stories could capture the its majesty, the bone deep dread it inspired. And this was a mere adolescent? For once in her life, she was intimidated. No, intimidated was far too weak a word. She was scared stiff. 

How was she meant to help them when she doubted that she could even save herself? Nevertheless, Solaria's command was a geas. Whether she liked it or not, she had to do something. 

"Oi! Humans! Watch out! Dragon at 12 o'clock!" Obsidian put as much rudeness as she could to disguise her terror. She dashed over to the wagon to get her scepter before she could see their reaction. It was no time to be petty, no matter how gratifying their reactions would be.

She grabbed the scepter and swung it like a bat. A massive purple fireball emerged from it, soaring through the air like it had been catapulted. The wyrm turned to stare at it, fascinated by its light. As a result, it got a face full of magic fire. It screamed, a horrible noise full of agony.

The knights took it as a sign to charge. They swung their broadswords at the wyrm's oversized feet, and the creature let out a cry of pain. It was but a child, Obsidian realised. It must have came over to look at their campfire, naively curious, not knowing what that strange light was. Though it might have looked scary, it was in no way going to harm them. The thought made her stomach suddenly sour. However, now that they had injured the wyrm, it would never trust them. If only she had not attacked it first, perhaps it might have survived its encounter with the knights.

As if to punctuate her thought, the wyrm fell. It made a thundering crack as it hit some trees. A distant cheer, obscured by the sheer loudness of the wyrm's fall, emanated from its feet. Obsidian looked away, uncomfortable. The wyrm, defeated, let out its death rattle. It made a long keening sound, ripe with sadness and pain, and let its head fall. By all rights, a flash of light should have accompanied its death as its magic was released. However, there was none.

Perhaps, just perhaps, it had not died yet. Perhaps she could make amends. The thought sent Obsidian sprinting towards the fallen wyrm. Though she could not heal it, she could at least get the Cave to put it in a stasis, so she could get a healer to it. If it would not fit into the Cave, she would simply blast a hole in its entrance. The Cave would surely forgive her. 

She arrived just in time to watch Humphrey behead it. Before she could yell for them to stop, Humphrey swung his sword in an overhead arch. The wyrm had just enough time to look her in the eye, and Obsidian could see the fear and agony it faced, before Humphrey's sword cleaved through its neck. Light flashed before their eyes, and Obsidian had to hastily put up a shield to prevent them from getting burnt by the heat of its magic. However, as soon as the magic faded away, Humphrey was back at it. He had not made a clean cut, and he had to make a few more blows before it finally separated. Small mercy then, that the wyrm had died after the first hit. But the fact was of no comfort to Obsidian, who stared down at the severed head. 

Why did she care? After all, she had slaughtered round after round of the stupid knights that poked their heads around her home. She had gone out of her way to destroy villages near her. She had killed children, even babies fresh out of their mother's wombs. What was one more? Why did it hurt so badly to see that young dragon die? Perhaps the reason was one of species, that dragons were rare and magnificent. Perhaps it was because she had decided it was malicious, simply because it was powerful and scary, and tried to slay it, just like how people tried to slay her, and the irony hurt. Perhaps it was just the final straw. After all, it had been so long since she last left the cave, and for what? To hurt other in-betweens?

She wanted the knights dead. She wanted Humphrey dead. She wanted herself dead. Instead, she took the emotions, and her conscience, led them by the hand over to a small hole, and tossed them in. Then she buried it. It was a trick she had discovered after she buried the bodies of the first village's inhabitants, when the noise had kept her up one night too many. Emotions, bodies. What was the difference?

Humphrey staggered up to her, lugging the wyrm's head. "Look at it! It's magnificent! This is certainly a wonderful omen for our adventures to come. By the time we are done, all bards will sing songs of us, and everyone across the empire will know our names!" The knights behind him let out a loud cheer.

Obsidian laughed. It was a bitter laugh, full of anger and sadness and regret. It was full of hatred, for the gods, especially Solaria, and for the knights, and most of all, herself.

Indeed, it was a wonderful omen of their adventures to come.

****

Congrats on making to the end!! Not tell me: Was it as bad as I said it was? (Cos I'm trying to track my progress since I started writing regularly, and I figured this was a good way to do it)

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@xenascribbles,

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)