The Witch: Book Two of The Sorceress Saga by Taliesin Govannon (top 10 novels of all time .txt) 📗

frappucino on my way through the kitchen.  I didn't pause to eat anything... I wasn't really hungry, and the energy boost would launch me on my way.

                The morning air was crisp and danced over my skin as I started on my new preferred trail through the woods.  This one was a little more sparse, allowing more sunlight for warmth as autumn took its hold.  It also went nowhere near the new mystery lake, which I had reluctantly agreed to avoid when alone for the sake of my friend's collective nerves.  I heard the last few crickets quiet down as I plunged into the underbrush.

                I was grateful for the unique design of my current outfit.  It looked like a thin flowing skirt but was actually loose-fitting pants.  They allowed for maximum mobility while not abandoning my usual aesthetic.  Their copper-brown color-scheme also let me blend into the forest at will.

                I felt... good.  For the first time in a while, to be honest.  The whole idea of the 'settling' had made me, well, unsettled.  The idea that I had it in me to go bad somehow rocked me to my very foundation.  This morning, however, I had decided to avoid accidentally falling into a bad path by consciously doing good.

                I've been passive for far too much of my life I thought.  I always feel better when I'm proactive, so... let's pro-act!

                I wasn't sure how much remembering my past as Angelique/Anelandros' personal hero had to do with it, but I wouldn't deny that it at least played a part.

                I must have healed over thirty plants that morning alone.  It came so easy now, I almost didn't have to stop walking anymore.  Evil beings kill stuff I justified silently, So good beings give life, right?

                I exited the woods in the playground again, but farther down.  I found myself once again behind the restrooms, a drab cinder-block building hugging the treeline.  I stopped and listened to see if anyone was around.

                “Get up, you fucking terrorist!”

                I guess someone's around... I thought with a sigh.  I edged towards the harsh voice I had just heard and peered around the corner of the building.

                There were three of them, standing in a rough triangle around a figure huddled on the ground.  They were older than the last bunch, high school age at least, but the cowering figure looked to be no older than thirteen.  He was of Arab descent, and looked at his tormentors with fear.

                “I said get up!” one said with a kick to the smaller boy's leg.  “Can't you understand fucking English?”  The bully had scruffy blonde hair that stuck out at odd intervals from the bottom of a stocking cap, a messy frame for the look of disgust and hatred etched on his face.

                Another bully, this one with a buzz cut bared to the cold, grunted to his leader.  “He probably lost his hearing making bombs in his basement!”

                The third one, noticeably shorter than the other two, cackled in agreement.  “Fucking towel-headed pansy!” he spat out.

                I felt my blood  begin to boil.  I hated bullies and racists equally, and racist bullies really lit my fuse.  I closed my eyes and sent out a silent call.

                The first bully to notice swatted at something near his left ear.  His annoyance turned to pain as the first stinger found it's mark.

                “Ow!”  Buzz-cut slapped his neck as the other two started swatting the air around them.  One by one the darting black shapes increased in number until each bully was in their own cloud of wasps.

                Their victim looked on in wonder as his tormentors took off running, trying to escape but failing, their cries of pain getting more and more distant as they ran out of sight.  Smiling, I surveyed my handiwork with pride.

                “Kinda mean, don't you think?”

                I turned around to see a very naked Toby standing in the nearby treeline.  He looked bored as he inspected his freshly recreated human fingers.

                I was happy to see him.  Ever since he had discovered that he was a changeling, a half-human half-Fae being that could effortlessly transform into an animal, he had been scarce in my life.  I understood, however.  He had been trying to adjust to this new existence ever since he had first changed the past year, and it hadn't been going easily.

                I still had to give him shit, however.  “You once said that my fashion was chastity-inducing, and you're calling me mean, mister Toby?”

                He grinned.  “Touche, but don’t call me ‘Toby’. I’m ‘Starr’ now”

                “Noted.” I said, nodding.

                “But really, wasps?” he continued. "Aren't they the blue-veined prick of the animal kingdom?"

                "Bullies are the blue-veined prick of the human species." I replied with a shrug.  "Like attracts like, and so on."

                “Oooh, kitten's got claws, no?”  He gave me a playful swipe as I passed by him.  Giggling, he fell into step beside me as I walked back to the house.

                “So, you seem to be doing better.” I said.

                “Only by the most liberal definition of 'better'.”

                “You're able to stay in your human form longer, right?”

                “Well, the time can be measured in double digits, but it's still only minutes.”

                “So that's why you don't carry clothes.”

                "Right!  I mean, why look like a cat with a backpack when I have such little need for clothes in the total percent of the day?"

                “Sounds right to me.”

                We walked for a little more before he stopped, looking at the sun poking through the trees.  A bright spot of light illuminated his face, and he closed his eyes.  The light glinted off of the black and white markings in his hair that copied his fur when in cat form.

                “I love the warmth when there's no fur in the way.” he said wistfully.  “But I feel it growing closer, my inevitable reversion to a feline.”

                I wanted so much to help him!  He had turned