Morgan

They entered the opening of the village; huge walls built of thick white stone surrounded the entrance. Brayden was keeping his eyes focused on his surroundings; he was not thrilled with entering a land he knew nothing of aside from the fact it was a coven to some of the most powerful and eldest of witches. His trust level was extremely low; however, he knew he had no choice but to embrace the knowledge that he would only find here.
It was nothing like he imagined; small huts lined the gravel road in a straight line. He could see lush land behind and found it odd that there weren’t more huts throughout; and people walked and interacted with each other similar to the people of his kingdom. In his mind, he envisioned small elderly women who walked with their backs hunched over; or maybe sitting in front of a boiling pot stirring potions and such. Chuckling under his breath he realized how ignorant his thoughts were and how closed his mind really was.
“It’s not much further,” Christian said as he guided his horse next to Brayden’s. The travel had been grueling; taking them two and a half days to reach, but they were finally getting close to their destination. “It seems peaceful here,” Harper stated as she smiled, looking around at the natural beauty of the place. “It feels like home,” she added. “It feels like death,” Brayden growled as he continued taking everything in. “Careful, warrior, someone may hear your insult and make it a reality. Your kind is not overly welcomed here; these lands are considered sacred, it would do you well to respect that.” Harper tapped the side of her horse, commanding it to move a bit faster, leaving Brayden a stone’s throw behind her.
They came to a stop in front of a two level stone home; it was much larger than all of the cottages they had passed on their way. Two large wooden doors stopped them from entering; the housing behind them was well protected from the outside. They heard a man call from above, “state your purpose here.” Getting off his horse and looking up in the direction he heard the voice coming from, Christian replied, “we come seeking guidance from Morgan, I am Christian and this is Harper and Brayden,” he pointed to each of them as he spoke.
“The elders do not accept visitors; go now and return to wherever you came from.” Brayden did not come all this way to be told to leave, “I will not leave until I get the answers I came here for, warlock!” His distaste and lack of patience was clear in his growling tone. His horse reared up on its hind legs as Brayden fell back from the impact of some kind; the jerking of the horse causing him to lose grip and fall to the ground. Grabbing his chest, he angrily jumped to his feet; unsure of what exactly it was that struck him, but knowing it came from the voice above.
“It would be wise not to be demanding! Do not underestimate the powers behind these walls, warrior, you won’t survive if you do!” Harper hissed angrily. Jumping quickly in front of Brayden, Christian bowed his head as he spoke, “forgive us, we do not wish to cause mayhem, we only wish to speak with Morgan in hope she can guide us. Please, would you tell her Christian of the Knight Sky Coven; she will remember me,” he kept his head down, an act of non-aggression and a sign of respect. “Wait here,” the voice commanded. Raising his head he turned to face Brayden, who was still reeling from the unseen assault. “Listen well, Brayden, you are not dealing with ordinary witches; these are some of the most powerful elders, ones of which you need help from. Respect is demanded; know your place!” Chritian’s temper didn’t show often but this time he needed to make sure Brayden fully understood what they were up against; his boarish ways would not work here.
“I have no tolerance for this nonsense; I don’t have time for all this,” Brayden growled. Just as he finished speaking they heard the creaking sound of the doors being pulled open, and a figure draped in a long black cloak appeared before them. Pulling his hood off his head, the figure spoke, “you may rest your horses over there,” he pointed at a watering troth about five yards ahead of them, then continued, “you may clean up in the far cottage behind the barn; Morgan will send for you when she is available,” then he turned and walked away, leaving them to themselves.
Harper was the first to begin walking her horse towards the troth, the two men followed closely behind her. After removing the saddles and tying the reigns to the wooden beam they made their way into the cottage they were directed to. Christian found a water basin on the side of the cottage; pumping water into it he began washing the dirt from the ride off his face and head. Unsure of what he was about to encounter he began playing different scenarios out in his mind.
It still made no sense to him why he had to seek answers from some elder witch; could all of this really be that complex that only an elder witch could help him. None of this made sense, yet everything did. This could all just be a ploy, but then again, why would Christian and Harper go through this much trouble just to kill him? Nae, there was definitely something deeper at work.
After washing himself off he entered the cottage; finding both Harper and Christian sitting at the large table in the middle of the floor. “So we just wait?” he said as he began to pace in front of the fire. “Yes, Brayden, we wait. You must learn patience; these are not your lands nor your people. We have codes we follow, balances must be kept; and no amount of aggression you show will work here, it will only anger them,” Harper said as she rose from the chair. She began brewing some tea when Christian added, “the powers the elders have are unique and unmatched, their help and guidance is needed if we are to learn the truth; you must remember that.”
Brayden knew Christian was right; but that didn’t mean he had to like it. It was not in his nature to put his fate into someone else’s hands; especially the hands of a witch. Harper put two cups of tea in front of the men; as she returned to retrieve her own she added, “Morgan is very powerful and wise; I have never had the pleasure of meeting her before now, but it is an honor, Brayden; be thankful she is seeing us.” A noise coming from outside brought their attention to the door; not knowing what it was, the men rose from their chairs and walked slowly towards the door. Opening it cautiously they saw the same figure in a dark cloak as before; he just stood there with the hood over his head and face. “This way,” was all he said as he turned and began walking in the opposite direction. Following him, the three walked in unisom, side by side. As they approached the main cottage, Brayden felt the hair on his arms begin to rise; a dead giveaway that something was terribly wrong.
They continued to follow the man through the main doors of the small castle. It seemed empty; quiet and cold, and it set Brayden’s senses on high alert. Harper seemed to be enjoying the journey; her eyes lit up as she tried to take in everything all at once. Her lineage came from these walls, a heritage she knew very little about and it excited her to be in the presence of this particular elder.
The man stopped as he opened a door; he pointed his arm towards the direction they were to go. The long cold hallway led them to an opening into a room that was surrounded by glowing red flames from the candles sitting in the wall holsters, a slight fog filled the room as she slowly began to appear to them.
She was sitting on the floor, a thick pillow that laid on top of a beautifully colored rug kept her from resting directly on the concrete floor. The same assortment of rugs and pillows sat in a circular formation surrounding a small kettle that rested just above the small fire before her. Motioning them to each sit on one of the pillows, her eyes landed on Brayden.
She was nothing like he envisioned; this was no older woman with long straggly white hair with hunched over posture. She was absolutely gorgeous; her hair was so long it almost touched the ground, lush auburn red hair, with eyes as green as the most radiant emerald. This really was trickery, Brayden thought; this is no elder!
“Ahh, but I am; my years reach far beyond those of your ancestors,” she said, never taking her eyes off of him. Damn witches, he thought to himself; he forgot most could read minds. “We are here seeking answers; there are great troubles brewing around him,” Christian said, noticing her demeanor towards Brayden.
“I know what you seek, the question is does your friend understand what it is exactly he is asking?” Still watching Brayden, she continued, “you are here seeking answers for the wrong questions, warrior.” Confused and already growing irritable due to her constant staring at him he responded, “nae witch, I only seek answers to the secrets hidden from me; that is all I need from you.”
Her lip curled up slightly on one side forming a smirk as she told him, “you need not seek answers to WHO you are; rather seek the answers to WHAT you are.”