Oryen observed the girl infront of her with amusement dancing in her eyes. This poor thing knows nothing of what she is. Returning to slicing up the vegetables, Oryen casually said to her. "It's wouldn't stop. The nightmares, it wouldn't stop."
Dydra's heart skipped a beat with a frown settling on her face. Her gaze laid on Oryen's back like a person who's seen a ghost. What does she mean by that? Is this old lady really a sorcerer?
"What are you?" she whispered, but loud enough for Oryen's sharp ears to pick it up. Her lips curved up in a smile, with her attention still on her vegetables, she answered calmly. "I am the same as you."
Her answer left Dydra confused. The same as her? What does she mean by that? Then Jerry's voice echoed in her head. Your kind needs to die! Her kind? What exactly is she?
"What do you mean? How are we the same?" Her tone was unsteady like a compass spinning without north.
Oryen took her attention off the vegetables, turning to Dydra, her lips curved in a knowing, pleased smile.
"Dydra," she called softly. "We are witches." The words slipped out of her mouth like an arrow finally loosed from a bow. Silence enveloped the kitchen, her eyes fixed on Dydra with anticipation. The words fell on Dydra's ears like a magician's trick gone wrong – unbelievable and absurd. Her mouth lifted into a smile before a peal of laughter rang out. A crease of disapproval appeared on Oryen's forehead.
"Dydra, this isn't a joke," she remarked, but her words only earned more laugh from Dydra, who now held her stomach.
"O-okay. Hehehe, I-i believe you." Dydra managed to say with complete sarcasm.
A spark of displeasure lit in Oryen's gaze, but it was sharply replaced by a sly sparkle, which Dydra didn't notice. She brought her hand up and snapped her fingers. In a blink of an eye, they vanished from the kitchen to the forest.
The fresh breeze blew lightly on Dydra, her laugh seized and was instantly replaced with a terrifying scream. Her stare widened in sheer disbelief. "How'd we get here?!" She demanded, moving away from Oryen.
The smirk on Oryen's face refused to fade with amusement dancing in her eyes.
"With a snap of my fingers, dear," she calmly responded.
"How did you do that? What are you, a witch?!" She held her fists up, ready to throw a punch at the old lady. Her actions brought out a convulsive laugh from the aged woman. Now, it was her turn to be amused. "Yes, I am a witch. And so are you."
Dydra shook her head in disbelief. Her? A witch?! That's impossible. How can she be a witch? This old lady must be sick in the head. Yeah, that's it, she's crazy. Oh, she should have left without saying anything to her, then none of this would have happen. She had to get out of here. Her eyes darted around, in search of the cottage, but they were surrounded by trees.
"Look, Madam. I don't want any troubles. Whatever you did, undo it." Dydra pleaded with fear in her eyes. All she wanted was a place to rest her head, not to be caught with some weird old witch lady, who is clearly mentally ill.
Oryen studied the girl before her, whose eyes and body were shaking in fear. So, she knew nothing of what she was. Absolutely nothing. She took pity and agreed. "Okay."
With a snap of her finger, they returned to the kitchen. Dydra fell on her knees instantly, clutching her stomach, as her veins popped out in pain. Oryen quickly rushed to her, but Dydra backed away. "Please, don't come to me," she said with clenching teeth. Why was she feeling this kind of pain all of a sudden? It's like multiple daggers stabbing her all at once, it was unbearable. What did this old lady do to her?!
Oryen had a worried look on her face, she knew this was going to happen, but she never knew it would be this intense. Any witch using magic or magic being used on them for the first time experiences displeasure in their stomach. Some have it mild, while some intense. She could siphon the pain into her body, but Dydra didn't let her.
"I can take the pain away, dear," she reassured, stretching forth her arm, but Dydra pushed it back.
"What are you doing to me?!" Veins popped on her forehead, her lips twitched, with her eyes red and widened in pain. The pain didn't stop, it seemed like it increased with every second that went by.
Oryen didn't listen, and grabbed her by the wrist. Just as she was about muttering the spell, something unexpected happened.
The fear in Dydra increased when she felt Oryen grab her arm, with force she yanked it, her fingers curled like claws and the air trembled. The old lady was wrenched upward as if hooked by a giant and hurled into the wall so hard the boards rattled. Oryen plunged hard on the ground, a hard cough escaped her lungs with blood dripping out of her mouth. Bewilderment mixed with fear enveloped her face. How's this possible? She didn't even mutter any spells, how is she able to lift her with such great strength?
Dydra didn't seemed to be done. A golden light emerged from her eyes, and she stood on her two feet, with one arm wrapped around her still aching stomach, and the other pointing at Oryen. The colour of her hair shone blood red and it stood on its own.
Oryen observed this and knew it was bad news. She has to stop this! This isn't the girl anymore, she's being possessed by something with greater power, something she believed to have been a myth, until now. She shut her eyes tight, gathering her thoughts. There's a spell that could stop this. Think, Oryen! Think!
Then it clicked. Concentrating all her energy she muttered. "Rithadon jujinin mlathro."
Out of nowhere, a sudden force burst into the room and stroke Dydra. The golden glow seized, her hair returned to it's normal reddish-brown, her legs felt weak and she plunged to the ground, loosing consciousness.