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“I could have done that, you know.”
“I thought you were tired,” I remark. She shrugs.
As I watch her, I realize that this is the first time I’ve gotten to really look at her. Of course, I noticed some things before this, but in the fire’s light, I notice more.
It’s pretty obvious that she’s in rough shape from the past week of living in the woods. But despite that, she’s striking. Her long, bright red hair looks even brighter next to the fire, framing her face in curls.
When she finally looks away from the fire and up at me, the bright green of her eyes looks even more fierce than the first time I saw them. Even her freckles stand out. Remarkable.
Her skin reddens the longer we stare at each other, and her mouth opens to speak, but I beat her to the punch.
“We should get you cleaned up,” I say. She nods, giving me a soft smile.
I wave her over to me, motioning for her to sit down in front of me. She does so without resistance, surprising me with her apparent trust in me.
“Wait here,” I tell her, standing up and retrieving my bag from the other side of the clearing.
I pull out a small towel and walk out of the cave, leaving her there. There’s a small pond nearby, and I dip the towel into it before taking it back to her.
I sit in front of her, beginning to take the cloth to her skin, slowly wiping a week’s worth of dirt away. She stares into my eyes as I do this, not looking away once. I avoid those eyes, knowing that they will only distract me from my task.
This isn’t normal for me. I don’t take in strays, and certainly not human ones, which makes me ponder the reasoning behind my actions. I’m not someone who nurtures life, I’m someone who snuffs it out.
All my life, I’ve never done anything to help good people, not on purpose. I just remove the bad ones. It’s my gift, it’s in my nature. It’s just what I do. So why am I doing this, sitting here with this human and taking care of her like she’s my pet?
“Why are you alone?” I ask her. She takes a moment to answer.
“Witches aren’t exactly welcomed, well… anywhere.”
“Your family?”
“I don’t have one. And before you ask, I have no idea what happened to them.”
I can tell that it’s a sensitive topic, so I don’t push her on it. I’m not sure why I even care in the first place.
“Why did you follow me today?” I ask.
“I wanted to see,” she replies after another long moment.
“See what?”
“I’m not sure. Why did you kill those elves?”
“They were evil.”
“Why do you care if they’re evil?”
“I don’t.”
“But you killed them.”
“My gift shows me the evil ones, and so I kill them. They deserve to be killed.”
“You say that like it’s so simple. But who are you to judge who should be killed?”
“They’re evil,” I repeat.
“Are you not evil, too? Is killing not evil to you?”
