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stupidgtblog · 9 months

Text

Trying writing

just a disclaimer that I have never written before - EVER! so don't expect this to be some life-changing top-tier literature. It's mostly self-indulgent, about 1.6k words, got a bit of cursing, and elements of fear, but that's about it. I don't really have a title hope u like it pls give criticism but b nice abt it <3

...

Mira had always found stories and folktales interesting. She liked humming the tunes, thinking about the morals they taught. She'd even (much to her parent's dismay,) decided to pursue a career in cultural studies, opting to focus less on the gift of her magic. Her parents always told her that magic was something that gave her endless possibilities, and she was lucky to have a supportive family, and not one that decided they'd rather burn her at the stake. She'd learned to ride a broom to cut on cost-of-travel, and a bit of minor healing spells for first-aid, but, her training had stopped there.

Her interest had been piqued by a new character popping up in some folklore in some mining regions. These places weren't the best to witches, so she'd be going a bit undercover. She'd come in, write as much of the oral stories as she could, translate, and then publish them for the general public, so more people could experience the stories. That was her mission.

She hadn't known much about the character yet, but descriptions had been inconsistent to say the least. Some swore by the figure being a cruel, powerful witch, others claimed the figure was clearly a horrible, evil wizard.

the only snippet of undisputed lore was a poem called “Titan of Ore”, that went as follows:

Skin of Bronze,

Hair of Silver,

Eyes of Gold,,

Axe of Iron,

Heart of Stone.

Mira was interested in such a character, popping up in only the last 5 years or so in the culture, with so much mystery surrounding it. In Mira's own experience, cases like these would just end up being stories around a new species of animal, or even weather phenomena. (Mira had gotten her hopes up in a previous case of a giant, twirling lady, just to find out they were talking about some dust storms that had been recently passing the area.)

Mira knew it was stupid, but one day, just once, she wanted these folktales to lead to something. She wanted - at least once, for them to be real.

Mira's travel plan was to fly as far as she could, then rent a horse for the cheapest she could to go the rest of the way. Sure, it'd be annoying, but far less annoying than being burnt alive. After she'd taken down everything, she'd fly as far away from those witch-roasters as her broom would take her.

...

The town was very quiet. Nothing really happening, just people doing their errands, buying goods, coughing (a lot), and going about their day.

Mira didn't really know where to start, But found a hopeful lead as a group of children gathered around, hearing a story from a woman standing in the middle. It was a nice thing to see.

As Mira sat a little farther and listened, after she wrote down as much as she could, she tried to ask the woman some questions.

She started to introduce herself.

“Hi! Hello- I'm Mira, I study culture, folklore, y'know, the stories? I noticed you were-”

“Where are you from?” The woman didn't let her finish. Rude, but Mira didn't want to give a bad first impression.

“Oh- I'm from Willowstead, It's pretty far, but - I came to study some particularly interesting stories that've-”

“You come all the way from Willowstead, for children's stories?” OK, that's just mean.

“Well, uh, you could say that, but to me, they're just so much more than that- They're magical, they're wonderful-”

The woman cut her off, “Witch!”

Was she seriously only talking to her to accuse her of witchcraft? Ok. These people might've had interesting folktales, but unfortunately, they were also crazy.

“What? Why would you say that about me?”

Turns out this wasn't too good of an idea. Turns out the townspeople were very keen of accusing her of witchcraft. (They weren't really wrong, but, y'know.)

“Listen, listen, hear me out, I'm just here to listen to your folklore! I've done nothing wrong!”

“Quiet!” Now they were getting mad.

“But- What did I even do?!”

Mira felt someone grip her hand, tight. Maybe she was actually about to get burned at the stake. For real.

“No! NO! Let me go, let me go right now!”

“You can't do this to me! I didn't do anything!”

...

They'd put her in the jail. It was a cold, single cell, with nothing but brick walls and a cold, dirty floor. She had not but one conversation in this town, and they already wanted to kill her. The walls were covered in all types of written curses, some names.

“MINERVA DIED GRACEFUL” was scratched into the corner wall.

“KIMARI, FOREVER SERVANT OF THE DARK” was written with some ink-like substance Mira didn't want to touch.

“BELARA WUZ BBQ'D HERE SEE U IN HELL” was funny at first, but then made realized that the message was addressed to her. And that all these people were real deal witches, and they were all dead.

Mira considered writing, but what would she even put down?

She took a rock and scrawled

“I WAS ONLY HERE FOR A DAY!”

It was funny for a second, but then reality hit her. She was going to be killed. Really. Killed. Dead. Would her parents ever know? She told an acquaintance where she was going... but would they remember? It was too much for her.

What was she going to do? She couldn't do anything! Was she supposed to just sit here and die? She didn't want to die!

She started to cry. She cried for a pretty long time, until she got tired and, somehow, slept.

...

It was a couple hours later. She'd woken up, been paraded through town, dark, save for bright, hot torches, some held by children. Jeering and chanting were loud in her ears all the way. Maybe this was where they got their entertainment, not their stories.

They'd bound her up tight to half of a log, and placed that log on top of a bunch of firewood. She was half-expecting them to let her down, But then, a torch was thrown, and the whole thing started to go alight. With Mira still on it.

“Haah... Oh my god. No, nonono!”

It was agony already. Just watching the flames creep up menacingly, heat rising, heart sinking...

“Wait... wait! I'm only 19! I'm still in school! I don't even use my magic! I didn't do anything!”

It was getting to the point where this started to hurt. The flames danced at her ankles, And the smoke was already getting to her head.

The flames grew more gradually, Like a wall of fire had been built all around her, closing in, slowly.

“No! I, my family! I need to talk to them!” It's like everything had gone quiet, but the roaring of the flames.

“I can't breathe!”

She could hear her heart beating in her ears, drowning out everything -

It was almost like the ground was shaking beneath her...

Was she dying?

*WOOOOSH!*

In an instant, she felt the strongest wind she'd ever felt ruffle through her hair, the only thing stopping her from being blown away herself was the formerly-on-fire log. She was back to feeling the cold, night air. It was like someone blew her out like a big birthday candle. She was actually really, really cold.

“...huh?”

She looked down at the once-cheering mob all looking utterly horrified, eyes staring up, At something Mira couldn't see. It was night, but Mira could tell a very, VERY long shadow was being cast behind her... and two, bright golden spotlights shone on the crowd.

Eyes of Gold...

Oh god, If she thought burning to death was bad, what was this thing going to do? This was the worst day EVER-

She felt a rope *snap* behind her. Her hands were still bound, but she was off the pyre.

She tried to move, but she wasn't coordinated enough, shivering and bound, and fell forward. But almost instantly, something closed all around her, firm, but comfortable. Warm. A hand. She was being held in one, huge hand. Moving until she was put up into something. Something almost leathery to the touch, close to the chest.

Whatever this thing was, it was holding her in it's pocket. And, to Mira's shock, it spoke - to defend her.

“I've warned you idiots far more times than you've deserved.”

The voice was deep and rough, but not necessarily masculine or feminine. Its defining trait is that it was angry.

Their apologies were almost inaudible through the fabric - muffled, but desperate. The response was furious and immediate. They clearly didn't want to hear it.

"SHUT UP! If I ever see you fucking weirdos do any of this sadist shit again, I will curse you all to death!”

Mira was scared. Scared of everything. They were true. They were real. Everything was extremely confusing, and she had no idea what this person wanted. She shook like a leaf, she couldn't tell if it was because she was cold, scared, or both.

They must've noticed how shaken she was, because they pulled her out of the pocket, into what could only be described as a big, big hug.

“You're gonna be alright.”

—

The girl was so horribly cold. She'd almost just burnt to death, and now she was freezing. Just wonderful.

Taking her back to the house seemed like a good idea, but she guessed she'd be scared half to death - but wasn't she already?

Well, didn't matter now. They'd started on the path already.

...shit. Is she crying? Yeah - she's definitely crying.

“Hey, calm down, you're alright, ok? I'm just gonna take you inside.”

”I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize. You haven't done anything.”

”I was really stupid.”

“If you're stupid, I'm a complete idiot.”