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Morwain clutched the brown paper-wrapped parcel closer to her chest as she crossed the rusted gangplank. The never sedate waters of Lake LaMorose beat against the hull of the ferry like banshees against a medium’s consciousness. As she stepped across the heavy grate onto the deck of the MV Staunch, her fingers dug into the paper ensconcing her sacred duty.
One of the ferry’s deckhands leered at her most menacingly and she found her step quickening to match the pace of her heart. A childhood memory surfaced.
“What’s that place, Auntie?”
“It’s Isla Nocturne,” her aunt replied, her caramel hair whipping about her lithe form in the wind, “It’s where the witches go.”
Morwain remembered looking up at her ethereal aunt and saying, “But aren’t we witches?”
“All freethinkers are my little owlet.” her aunt had replied after she had crouched down and held Morwain’s emerald eye gaze in her own tawny orbs.
The jarring of the ferry casting off from the dock hurtled Morwain back to the present as she found a seat in the forward observation lounge. There was only one other passenger on the ferry, an old man with a mustache that told tales all of its own. He regarded Morwain with watery eyes and a countenance beaten down by time and hardship. Her lips lifted into a slight smile, despite her discomfort, before she turned away to take in her destination.
Isla Nocturne. Inside its walls, the witches were held. Morwain knew that was code for anyone who dissented. Anyone who dared speak out against them. The cold granite blocks that made up the fortress on Isla Nocturne were as numerous as the prisoners held within.
Morwain’s mind drifted back to Halloween night two years prior.
“They are coming for me little owlet, and there is something you must do. On Halloween two years from this date, I need you to bake me a cake. The flavor matters naught, only that you add what’s in this pouch to it and bring it to me on Isla Nocturne. Do you understand?” her aunt’s voice held no fear rather a desperate and serious pleading.
“I do, and it will be done, Auntie. No matter what.” Morwain replied.
No longer a child, Morwain’s long chocolate-colored hair was braided into a pleat woven with sunflowers to mark the end of the growing season as was the custom of her people. Her eyes were the soft golden-brown of homemade caramel, and her presence brought serenity to wherever she trod.
The ferry rammed the dock as if daring its passengers to disembark. Morwain tucked an errant strand of her hair behind her ear and departed the boat. Her wine-colored cloak and dress whipping about her legs.
“No matter what,” she whispered.
The fortress before her threatened her resolve, two guards standing outside the gated entrance stepped forward,
“I-documents,” they growled with authority.
She presented her I-fold and willed herself not to tremble while they scanned it. As well trained as the guards were, the younger of the two kept staring at her, his blue eyes alight with interest and curiosity.
“What’s in the box?” the blue-eyed guard demanded, his black-gloved hand jerking the parcel out of her grasp.
“It is a cake for my aunt. Please, it’s her birthday.” Morwain did her best to sound helpless and pleading.
“A cake eh?” The older guard sneered.
“Yes sir, a double chocolate fudge, her favorite,” Morwain replied.
“It’s also the warden’s favorite too, how fortunate!” the older man cruelly taunted as he grabbed Morwain by the shoulder, turned her around, and shoved her back toward the Staunch.
“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure your aunt gets her cake,” the guard guffawed with ill-repressed malice as he turned and marched into the prison, the brown paper-wrapped parcel tucked under his arm.
Morwain walked down to the waiting ferry, her legs shaking a little less. Most people in the prison weren’t witches, but her aunt was. Morwain had discovered her aunt’s journal and she knew exactly what was in the little velvet pouch her aunt had given her two years ago, and as she stepped onto the deck of the Staunch her chest inflated with a bit of glee and anticipation for what was about to happen.
Awesome. What's in the cake? Very descriptive and intriguing, Kat:)
Let's just say that Auntie was counting on the selfish, oppressive nature of closed-minded coercers, anyone who eats the cake is going for an existential ride😉
There also might be a well fomented resistance in the prison and a riot that night too....
Huzzah:)
And thank you!!!!
What??? You can't end it here😵😵
Now i really want to know what's in that cake and what it would do. I bet those guards would eat it and something mysterious would happen.
Who knows? Morwain probably just assisted in a prison break😁
This is a beautifully crafted story @generikat, thank you for sharing.
LOL! Don't you just love it when stories end but you have to craft the ultimate ending yourself? I love those kind of tales, oh wait, I guess if you look at my stories that kinda is obvious ha ha.
And now I am going to wander over and read what you have posted, I know there is greatness there:)
Oh yes! I love it!
Thank you for the support.😁
What happened to those guards that ate the cake? Don't tell me you are ending it all here. My legs are beginning to breathable my heart as the walls granite began to grow in number and no one had the guys to question the witches.
This is a fascinating story but filled with suspense.
You know, this story does deserve to perhaps be continued, but I also like choose your own ending types of tales, so I hope you had fun thinking about resolutions of witches doing a prison riot and guards hallucinating after ingesting the cake or a hundred other scenarios:)
Very intriguing piece @generikat. I love witches, the good ones, not the bad ones. So, I'm always intrigued on how different authors handle this topic. Nicely done, subtle without being too witchy. A very enjoyable read.
Awe, thanks @litguru:) I love witches too, especially the ones who are labeled as such because they challenge things and don't fit the mold. Actual witches who do good not harm are also dear to me, well, and I suppose I also enjoy the tales of bad witches who are only so because of how they were treated.
Oof, listen to me blather. I will get on my broom stick and take off now....😁
S the aunt happened to be the witch. Back in the days, we were told that anything you say against the witch they hear. They hear everything we have been saying. So, this was the belief back then, I don't know if it is so.
Nice story you have written here. Well done to you
Whoa! Can you imagine if you heard every bad thing someone said about you?! That would be bananas! I don't know if it is so either, but it's definitely interesting to think about!
Thanks for stopping by:)
When I saw your name at the bottom of this week's prompt post, I knew I was in for a treat. No blue creature. No flannel shirt. No vernacular dialogue. This time we get a classic tale. We have the witches and the charms. We have the narrow minded rule makers and the boorish prison guards. We have wonderful, vivid language.
How did you whip up such a well-constructed piece so quickly? I expected a treat and I got it.
Great writing!
Ahh @agmoore, your kind words are the treat! I know they make me feel slightly better about the mania that struck when I read the prompt at 6AM, got hit in the cortex with a story idea, hopped out of bed and crafted like a woman possessed by a fairytale muse. Or something, lol!
I'll throw a flannel shirt in the next tale hehe!
Ha Ha.
When I write stories these days, that's exactly how it happens. An idea pops into my head fully formed. And then I pour it onto paper. These seem to be much better than tortured projects.
Whatever the cause. It works beautifully here.
This could be a story found in any classic collection of fairy tales. It doesn't for an instant waver from the traditional form. This is a really good, fun application of the prompt.
Thank you for posting the story in the Ink Well community and thank you for supporting your fellow authors.
Wow, thank you so much! I loved fairytales as a kid and read my two collections of them as if they were religious tomes, perhaps the structure stuck, lol!
I really, really appreciate all the hard work you all do for the community, it's really cool to see it grow and develop, I love The Ink Well:)
Nice story, @generikat! In a gentle way you take us to different times and show us a fascinating world of good, delicate and beautiful witches and evil, rough people. I loved following Morwain, watching his eyes and hair in the wind, as he walked and boarded the ferry with his package wrapped in brown paper.
Thank you so much @gravielaacevedo! Textures, sounds, and sights are so important to me when I read anything, it makes me feel like I am there, so I am so happy you picked up on those elements! I can't wait to read your story:)
I love your way of narrating and describing the details. But won't the cake be inspected? I thought to myself: why put it in the cake? Surely they are going to open it before taking it to its destination. But then I thought to myself, what if it's a trap for the warden and his guards?
Nicely done 😊👍
Oh, I so count on the cake being inspected, there's nothing in the cake that can be seen, only experienced:) I am so happy I left this one a bit open to interpretation regarding what came about from the cake and so on, the comments speculating on the scene have been just grand!
Thank you so much for the kind words!
I love this story ❤️😍
Thank you!😁
I feel like her aunt wanted to recruit her team of witches with the portion. The portion mixed in the cake needed to brew for 2 years to be as effective.
But for what reason was she kept in the prison though? And why did she stay put when she could have used her powers against the guards. Hmm
Weldone! This story oozes lots of suspense and puzzles
Ooh, I love that you had so many questions, it delights me! Sometimes I really love plots that make me have to imagine what the protagonist's and supporting character's reasons were for why they acted, not to mention some of the best stories have a bit of pain to endure before reaching a oh so satisfying conclusion. All the best resistances take time and sacrifice so to speak.
I'm glad you enjoyed, thanks for stopping by:)
Just like other readers request a continuation so do I! I couldn't wait to read what thrilling act Morwain's aunt would pull in the Staunch but alas, we are left to our imaginations.
I love the mystery and exquisite descriptions in this witchy tale. Beautifully written. 🙂
Ahh, a tale aboard the Staunch would be so thrilling, I kinda want to write a whole series set in Morwain's world now, it's definitely gone on the to do list, I just have a rather massive project I have to finish first. And honestly, I am so pleased that everyone delved into their imaginations after reading the tale, love those what ifs😊
Thank you so, so much for the kind words, it really does mean a lot!
The mystery flows through this story from the beginning, I was left wondering what the cake really contained. I demand a continuation, please.
You knew how to compose a story full of magic and mysterious, most of all mysterious. From the beginning to the end. The reader ends up thinking that the girl failed in her plan, but then it turns out that it wasn't so. Splendid.
I have a growing list of things I must continue, I'll add this tale to it:)
And thank you so much for the kind words, I love to write and tell stories, and it's reader reactions like yours that help to keep me going and inspired!
This is a lot of fun, @generikat. You weave an intriguing tale, with interesting characters and a great scenario. I just wish I knew what was in that cake!
LOL! I suppose it was a bit ornery of me to do that, but I love a good mystery:) Who knows, maybe one day I'll continue the tale! Thank you so much @jayna, hope you are having a most lovely day!!!
Isla nocturnal... Interesting, the witches inside the walls, and Morven knew this was the code for dissenters. So does it mean that no one dared to protest or dared, the number of cold granite blocks will increase? Oh, so the walls blocks of Isla Nocturne were as many as the prisoners. Were they all going to be blocks now?
Ooh! That is such a good idea! It kinda reminds me of Pink Floyd meets Willow. Can you imagine a growing prison? That would be horrific! Thank you so much for reading my story and for such an awesome comment, my brain totally went down a rabbit hole, lol!
I know it must have sounded funny, but that's what I felt!
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Hi and thank you! Aside from the fact that I am still blushing from your compliment, I can wholeheartedly say that you can write most magnificently already, of that I am sure:) I never ever feel like I write as well as I wish too, so I just keep learning, reading, and most of all writing!
Can't wait to read your creations!!
Thanks @milezofplay! Hope you have a most lovely day!:)