The Witches Dragonbond

Chapter 4.

The village of Wellwick was already stirring by the time they arrived. Farmers led oxen into the fields, merchants began setting up their stalls, and children darted between thatched-roof cottages, oblivious to the dangers looming just beyond the forest.

Evelynn and her group rode straight for the Earl’s manor—a modest but sturdy stone structure standing at the village’s heart. Sir Darwin, the Earl of Oakrest, was already waiting for them at the entrance.

He was an older man, thick-bodied with sharp, weary eyes that had seen too much war. As Evelynn dismounted, she gestured for the others to follow.

Axel and Jasmine flanked her as they entered the hall, but the rest of their group lingered near the doorway—two women and three men, their presence a quiet but solid reminder that they were not alone in this fight. Rowen leaned against a wooden beam, arms crossed, scanning the room for potential threats. Callum absentmindedly ran a whetstone over his dagger, while Lauren tugged at the leather strap of her bracer, restless and waiting for orders.

Sir Darwin’s gaze flickered over them before settling on Evelynn. “You were right,” he said grimly. “My men found signs of rogue scouts near the river this morning.”

Evelynn nodded. “That means Harold will send more soon. He wants to crush the rebellion before it gains strength, and small villages like yours are easy targets.”

Sir Darwin exhaled heavily. “Then tell me what must be done.”

They gathered around a worn wooden table as Evelynn laid out their plan.

“Your people need to be armed. Even the farmers. We can train them while we’re here.”

Sir Darwin frowned. “Most of them have never held a blade.”

“Then they’ll learn,” Axel said firmly.

Jasmine leaned forward. “What about defenses? How many fighting men do you have?”

“Twenty trained guards,” Darwin said, rubbing a hand down his face. “And maybe a dozen hunters who can wield bows.”

Dain spoke up from where he stood at the edge of the room. “That’s not enough to hold off a full assault.”

“Then we focus on fortifying the village,” Evelynn said. “Barricades at the entrances. A watch rotation. Any supplies you can spare need to be moved somewhere hidden—if the rogues take the village, they’ll burn everything they can’t steal.”

Lauren, who had been silent until now, stepped forward. “We should also set traps along the outer perimeter. Simple snares, spiked pits. Anything to slow them down before they reach the village.”

Sir Darwin studied them all for a long moment before nodding. “You’ve done this before.”

Evelynn met his gaze without flinching. “Too many times.”

The Earl exhaled and looked at the warriors standing in the shadows of his hall, waiting for their next orders.

“Then I’ll put my faith in you.”

Evelynn felt the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders. The battle for Wellwick hadn’t started yet—but it was coming. And when it did, they would be ready.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, the village of Wellwick was no longer the vulnerable settlement it had been that morning. Barricades had been erected at the main entrances, wooden spikes lined the pathways leading in, and watchtowers had been reinforced with extra archers. The villagers—once farmers, merchants, and craftsmen—now carried weapons, their faces hardened with determination.

Evelynn scanned their work, nodding in approval, before she caught sight of Jasmine tying down a section of reinforced fencing near the village square. Without a word, she motioned for her friend to follow. Jasmine frowned but obeyed, stepping away from the others and falling in beside Evelynn as they walked toward the tree line.

“What is it?” Jasmine asked, brushing dirt from her hands.

Evelynn hesitated. She had spent the entire day pushing aside the lingering sensation in her chest—the feeling that something ancient now lived within her, tethered to her very soul. But she couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“It’s the dragon,” Evelynn finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I saw him in my dreams.”

Jasmine’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Evelynn took a breath and told her everything. The dream, the dragon’s revelation about her bloodline, the soul connection that now bound them together. As she spoke, Jasmine’s skeptical expression melted into something else—something resembling awe.

“So you’re saying… he chose you?” Jasmine asked, crossing her arms.

Evelynn nodded. “And I chose him.”

For a long moment, Jasmine was silent. Then, she exhaled a slow breath and shook her head with a smirk. “Only you, Ev. Only you would bond yourself to a dragon in your sleep and still be up at dawn preparing for war.”

Evelynn huffed a quiet laugh, feeling some of the weight lift off her chest. “I didn’t exactly have a choice.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you didn’t,” Jasmine said, her tone teasing but laced with understanding. “So what now? Are you… different?”

Evelynn hesitated, glancing toward the darkening horizon. She didn’t feel different, not exactly, but—

Be ready,little witch.

Evelynn swallowed hard. “I can hear him.”

Jasmine’s eyes widened. “Right now?”

Evelynn nodded, pressing a hand against her temple as if she could quiet the voice. It wasn’t loud, but it was there, a presence beneath her thoughts, whispering not in words, but in feelings. Urgency. Strength. Destiny.

“Alright,” Jasmine said, rolling her shoulders like she was shaking off the weight of the revelation. “We’ll figure it out later. Right now, we have a village to keep standing.”

Evelynn nodded, shoving the sensation to the back of her mind. “Right.”

They returned to the others as night fell, finding Axel and the rest of their group gathered near the bonfire in the village center. The tension in the air was thick, but their mismatched band still found ways to make light of their impending battle.

“Think they’ll charge in like idiots?” Callum mused, sharpening his blade.

“They are idiots,” Lauren pointed out.

“Maybe we should just leave food out and see if they fight each other for it,” Rowen teased earning a snort from Axel.

Jasmine nudged Evelynn with her elbow. “You sure the dragon picked the right person? I think Callum over there might be his true soul half.”

Evelynn chuckled, shaking her head. But even as she laughed, she could feel the dragon’s presence stirring in her mind.

The battle is on the horizon.

Steel yourself, they are coming .

The humor of the moment faded. Evelynn’s stomach tightened.

She lifted her gaze to the darkened sky, watching the stars flicker above.

The rogues were coming.

And by dawn, the village of Wellwick would either stand—

Or burn.

The first light of dawn crept over the horizon, painting the sky in soft hues of gold and violet. A deceptive calm hung over the village of Wellwick—one that would soon be shattered by the sound of war.

Evelynn stood at the barricade, bow in hand, eyes locked on the treeline. Beside her, Axel and Jasmine prepared their weapons, tension humming between them like a taut bowstring. Behind them, Callum,Lauren, Rowan, Mary, and Dain—along with the rest of the villagers—stood ready. Some held spears, others rusted swords or makeshift clubs. It wasn’t much, but it would have to be enough.

A distant rumble echoed through the morning air.

Then, the trees trembled.

“They’re coming,” Evelynn murmured.

The first wave of rogues emerged like shadows spilling from the woods, their armor crude and their weapons stained from past slaughters. But at their center rode something far more menacing.Derek.

The half-human, half-ogre warlord was a monstrous sight. His massive frame was barely contained by his armor, his bulging muscles unnatural—too large, too strong. His skin had an eerie greenish sick undertone, a hint of the monster lurking within him. Long black hair, braided with rings of iron, flowed down his back, and his glowing red eyes burned like embers in the early morning gloom. Evelynn had faced horrors before, but Derek was something else entirely.

A smirk curled his thick lips as he studied her from atop his steed, something dark and knowing flickering behind his crimson gaze. Evelynn felt her stomach tighten and twist.

“He knows what you are.”

The dragon’s voice echoed in her mind, deep and foreboding.

Derek’s eyes found Evelynn’s through the din of the battlefield, and his lips curled into a cruel grin.

“Come then, little witch,” he growled. “Let’s see if you’re worth all the whispers I’ve heard.”

With a roar, he kicked his mount forward, leading the charge.

The battle erupted in chaos.

Evelynn loosed an arrow, striking a rogue through the throat before drawing another. Around her, steel clashed against steel, screams of the wounded mixing with the war cries of the defenders. The villagers fought with desperate ferocity, their fear replaced by sheer will. Though untrained, they held their ground. The barricades funneled the rogues into tight spaces, forcing them to fight one-on-one rather than overwhelming the defenders with numbers.

Jasmine and Axel moved like twin storms, their blades dancing through enemy ranks. Callum blocked a rogue’s blade with his shield before driving his sword into his gut. Lauren and Mary fought back-to-back, their movements rough but effective. Rowan struck down an attacker with a precise swing, only to stumble when another rogue charged at him.

Dain intercepted, tackling the rogue to the ground and slamming his knife into his chest. “Watch your footing,” he grunted before turning to engage another enemy.

Evelynn fired another arrow, but Derek was closing in.

Many attackers eager to breach the defenses. Mary and Lauren stood at the rear, directing the villagers to strategic points and urging them onward even as injuries mounted. Though many villagers were untrained, they fought with desperate bravery—holding their ground at barricades and narrow alleys. Some were injured badly, but their determination never wavered.

In the thick of the melee, Dain charged Derek, attempting to bring down the behemoth with a furious strike of his sword. Derek, however, laughed—a deep, resonant sound that seemed to shake the very air—and brushed aside Dain’s attack with ease. His immense strength sent Dain sprawling into the dirt, momentarily stunned.

Evelynn sprinted toward Derek, her heart pounding. She released an arrow aimed for his heart, but at the last moment he shifted, and the projectile struck his massive shoulder instead. The wound seemed only a minor annoyance to him. Derek sneered, his red eyes burning with malice, and bellowed, “That all you got, little witch?”

As their blades met, the clash rang out like thunder. Derek’s blows were savage and relentless; each strike forced Evelynn to duck or parry with all her might. She managed a feint—slashing along his arm and drawing a ribbon of blood—but Derek’s brute strength seemed inexhaustible. With one furious, sweeping strike, he sent Dain reeling, knocking him unconscious.

Around them, the battle waged on. The rogues, though numerous, began to falter as the combined might of villagers and rebels held them in a tight noose. A well-placed spear here, a determined charge there—one by one, the attackers were driven back. Yet the clash was brutal: wood splintered, metal rang against metal, and the cries of the wounded mingled with the defiant shouts of defenders.

Amid the chaos, somewhere a horn blasted from the treeline. The sudden sound rippled through the enemy ranks, and for a heartbeat, the rogues hesitated. Derek’s eyes flashed dangerously as he roared, “You haven’t seen the last of my steel!I will strike you down little witch like I did your mother!” With that threat he turned to charge his mount towards the tree-line.

Before he could regain momentum, a deafening, piercing cry split the sky. Evelynn’s breath caught in her throat as the mighty silhouette of her dragon soared low over the treetops. Its golden scales catching the sun and its eyes blazed with fierce intensity, and a deafening roar echoed over the battlefield like a call beast hunting its next meal.

The sight sent a wave of terror through the remaining rogues. In disarray, they broke ranks and fled into the woods, their morale shattered. Even Derek, with his imposing figure and thunderous might, hesitated for a moment before withdrawing, his final, ominous words carried on the wind: “This isn’t over,witch your dragon won’t save you”

The field grew quiet. The battle had been won—Wellwick still stood. The villagers and rebels gathered in the clearing near the barricades, tending to wounds and sharing cautious smiles. Sir Darwin, soon arrived with a small retinue, his face etched with both relief and sorrow for the fallen.

Axel, leaning against a shattered post and nursing a deep gash on his shoulder, managed a wry grin. “Not bad for a bunch of misfits, eh?”

Jasmine clapped him on the back, her eyes still alight with adrenaline.

Callum wiped blood from his blade and nodded in agreement, while Rowan helped Mary to her feet, both sharing a quiet word of encouragement.

Lauren checked on Dain, who was slowly regaining consciousness after his brutal encounter with Derek.

Amid the celebration, villagers shouted words of triumph and relief. “Wellwick stands!” “For the Rebellion!” and “For our future!” rang out, blending with the triumphant laughter and cries of the rebels.

Yet Evelynn felt a different weight. Standing apart near the now-calm barricade, she stared upward, still feeling the residual tremors of the dragon’s presence. Deep within her, the soulbond pulsed with quiet power. In a whisper that resonated directly in her mind, the dragon spoke:

“You did well, little witch. But this is only the beginning. Our bond is our strength—remember, one cannot live without the other. Steel your heart, for more battles lie ahead.”

The words sank into her, mingling with the echoes of the dying conflict. Even as the cheers and celebrations rose around her, Derek’s parting threat and the dragon’s solemn warning reminded her that the war was far from over.

In the lingering light of dusk, as villagers and rebels embraced their hard-won victory, Evelynn silently vowed to honor the bond she had forged. She would protect her people and rise against the tyrant king, even as the specter of Derek’s promise haunted her thoughts.

For tonight, Wellwick stood victorious.Evelynn knew that beyond the celebrations and shared words of encouragement, the true war for freedom was just beginning but for the night the

battle was over.

Jasmine sheathed her swords and clapped Evelynn on the back. “You alive?”

“Mostly,” Evelynn breathed, her chest rising and falling with exertion.

Lauren having wiped the blood from her brow, laughed breathlessly. “We actually did it.”

Mary leaned against her spear, shaking her head. “I don’t know whether to be proud of you all or terrified.”

Dain nudged Rowan, who was still catching his breath. “See? Not dead. Yet.”

Evelynn looked at her friends—battered, bloodied, but standing strong.

The war was far from over.

But tonight, they had won.