The Mage’s Path of Dreams

Under the dark starry night, fire crackled as a castle burned. 

Bathed in the warm flickering glow, a grieving child stood motionless, his shadow seemingly smaller than his body. 

"Mom… dad… Lula…" he sniffed and grieved. 

"Are there any survivors?"

"Some could be seen running east, captain!"

"Chase them! Make sure none stay alive!"

The child, barely four or five years old, did not know what east or west meant, but was smart enough to know that he had to run in the opposite direction of the infantry. 

He picked up his small bag and through hazy, tear-filled eyes, ventured deep into the woods. 

…..

It was almost dawn. The boy felt his legs go weak. He could not walk any farther. 

When the sound of running water rushed in his ears, he made his way towards it to quench his thirst.

A few moments later, the boy saw a tall figure, clad in all-black flowing robes, and a wide-brimmed pointy hat, holding a long staff in her hands. 

"W-w-witch!" His voice trembled, fear rising like a wave over his chest.

Before he could run away, the boy found the witch heading towards him, her robes gliding like shadows over the ground. The first light of dawn revealed her pale, ethereal figure. 

For reasons unknown, the figure did not seem as scary anymore. Still, the boy did not lower his guard and squared up his bare fists. 

"W-witch, I am not afraid of you!" The boy cautiously backed away while keeping his fists up. 

Hailing from a noble family, the boy knew not to show his back while running away from powerful creatures. 

The witch did not say a word and continued to walk closer. 

"I… I am danger! I will hurt you!" The child cried out with all his strength. 

The corner of the witch's lips slightly curved up. Her next few steps were of similar slow pace, but the distance she covered was enough to just be a few steps away from the boy. 

"Uwaa-ah… I'll… I'll hurt you!" The boy faltered, but continued to put up a courageous act. 

As more light illuminated the surroundings, the boy's torn clothes and disheveled red hair came into view. His face was covered in dried-up tears, his eyes droopy and shadowed in dark circles.

The witch's smile faded, her face turning as emotionless as ever. 

She approached the fearful child and placed a hand on his shoulder, startling him.

"Uwaaa! Don't come closer!" The boy frantically swung his fists and struggled. 

But it was to no avail. 

The ground beneath him seemed to have gone, and the next thing he knew, he couldn't see the witch anymore. 

"Huh?" The boy was confused, only to realize the river in front of him was getting closer.

No.

The river wasn't getting closer.

The boy was moving towards it!

Shockingly confused, the boy looked around, finding himself resting on the tall witch's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

"W-w-what!?!" 

Was the witch going to drown him in that river!?!

Before the boy could struggle again, he heard a gentle and soothing whisper. 

"Sleep."

*****

A day later.

The aroma of brewing stew awoke the sleeping boy. As he looked around, he found himself in a neat and tidy room, on a soft bed. 

Getting out of the room, he soon saw a tall figure in flowing black robes, wearing a familiar wide-brimmed pointy hat. She was stirring a ladle in a small pot hanging over an open flame.

"W-witch!" The boy was startled and squared up once again.

The woman turned around, and for the first time, the boy could see her face. 

He expected it to be scary, but…

…it was so gentle. 

It reminded him of his mother, who used to have the same tender look on her face. 

Though, the lady before him wasn't smiling and was just as emotionless as the day he had seen her. 

Noticing his arrival, the witch turned around and scooped a ladle full of stew in a wooden bowl.

Glancing at him with her clear purple eyes, she put the bowl before him and backed away.

The boy could see pieces of meat and potatoes floating in the small bowl of stew. 

He did not move, but stared at the tall, scary woman. 

The stare down lasted for a solid minute, until the boy's stomach growled and forced him to walk towards the bowl. 

He hadn't eaten anything since the day his family was destroyed. 

The boy carefully looked at the witch as he moved closer to the bowl. Soon, he picked it up and stared at the warm yellow-colored stew. 

As the lady stared at the boy, she could see him struggle. However, he soon seemed to have made up his mind to eat the stew. 

Though, he did not do it. 

Instead, he looked around, as if searching for something. 

It confused the lady.

The boy then shook his head and raised the bowl to drink the stew straight from it. 

It was at this moment the lady realized…

She hadn't given him a spoon.

Shaking her head, she gently snapped her fingers and a twig from a nearby tree got carved into a spoon.

It then flew into the boy's bowl, surprising him.

The surprise only lasted for a moment as the boy knew the woman in front was a witch and could do magic. He was pretty smart for his age. 

After finishing it up, his gaze shifted from the empty bowl to the pot full of stew, eyeing it hungrily. 

The tall lady did not need to be told what she had to do. She swirled her finger and the bowl appeared in her hand. She scooped another ladle full of stew and poured it into the bowl, putting it back on the ground for the boy. 

There was a spoon in it too.

The boy slowly ate it. 

Nobody said a word. 

After having his fill, the boy then ran into the woods, confusing the witch. 

She did not have to follow him to know where he was. All she had to do was tap her staff on the ground and she could locate him. 

An hour later. 

The small legs waddled back to her shack. The boy held a small basket full of herbs and fruits. 

He put the basket down at the entrance and said while looking at it, "I bought these herbs for your witchcraft and fruits as snacks. I will bring more tomorrow. Bye."

He ran inside the house without waiting for her response. 

No change occurred on the witch's cold and emotionless face as she watched the boy's antics. However, her fingers could be seen drumming against staff, what was going on in her mind was unknown. 

Next day. 

The boy went into the woods again after his meal. 

This time, he was looking for rabbits instead of herbs. 

He almost fell in a ditch trying to catch one. 

The short legs could not keep up with the fast-paced rabbits. 

The witch stared at the scene with her neutral expression. 

It only took ten minutes for the boy to realize he could not hunt rabbits by running behind them and throwing rocks. 

He stopped and devised a plan. 

He remembered the ditch he almost fell into and went near it. He covered the upper area of it with twigs and leaves, then went to pick some herbs and fruits and decided to come again the next day.

He left the herbs and fruits at the house's entrance while saying, "I'll pick more materials for your witchcraft tomorrow," then went into his room and tucked himself in bed. 

The witch watched the boy from outside. 

He rolled around in bed for a while, then she could hear faint sobbing sounds from the blankets. 

"…mom… dad… when will you come back…"

"…Lula… I want to play… sniff… play again with you.. Lula…"

Watching the scene, the witch gripped her staff tighter, her face devoid of any emotions. 

Another day went by.

The boy had his stew and went to the woods again. The first thing he did was check his ditch. 

He found nothing. 

He did not get discouraged. Instead, he made a change by placing some fruits above the leaves. If the rabbits tried to eat these fruits, they would surely fall into the ditch!

The boy picked herbs and fruits, placed them at the house's entrance, and went back inside. 

He thought, maybe if he brought better things to the witch, she wouldn't kill him?

The boy made rough guesses as he lay in bed and slowly ventured into the dreamlands. 

The witch stayed outside the house, watching the boy with an ever emotionless face.