Golden Promise

Ethelinda-The witch hunter and Protector

The smell of burning flesh finds its way up the townsman's nostrils. Some people covering their eyes as a woman begs and pleads for the flames to cool and be easy on her flesh. As others watched in, they were thoroughly entertained. A single small child stood in front. Her honey toned skin glowing from being near flames. Her long, curly black hair is unkempt. Her body wrapped in a torn brown dress. Her feet bare. Her ice-like eyes staring blankly at the woman in front of her. "Burn in hell." A slimy old, pale man yelled. He hand crossed over the top of his makeshift cane. 

Others threw rocks at the burning woman, her screams now drowned out by the angry yelling of the people. "We need to go now, Ethelinda. It isn't safe." A soft toned elderly lady with wrinkled ivory skin spoke. She grabbed the unkempt child's hand, and walked in the opposite direction of the fire. "Mother, " The young girl's voice said. The elderly lady's green eyes stared down at the child. "Is magic that scary for the punishment to be that severe?" Her mother sighed before stepping in front of the young girl and bending down. Her brown gown picking up some mud. "It goes against the teachings of God." She paused, making sure Ethelinda was following along. "It allows Satan to have control. Using magic makes a servant of Satan." Ethelinda nodded her head and they walked back towards the home. 

If what her mother said was correct, then why, 10 years later, was an 18 year old Ethelinda watching as her mother's flesh was cooked. Her mother couldn't be a servant of Satan. She was devoted to God. "Your mother was found guilty of witchcraft, young Ethelinda. We've investigated you and have seen that you are not guilty." In one ear, out the other. Her mind was too focused on the now burnt corpse that was turning to ash. Her mother was a witch. Her ice grey eyes stared into the priest's blue ones. She lifted her hood up and walked away. Her body is numb and unfeeling. If her mother was a servant of Satan, well she would burn in hell. She mounted her black stallion and had it gallop out of the town. Leaving both her mother's ashes, the priests and the town of Lacrosae behind. 

It had been six years since that incident. Six years since she lost her mother. Six years since she moved to the kingdom of Enoora. A place where it seemed like people and architecture were dragged out of a renaissance painting, and slapped on to the land. It was beautiful. Everything about Enoora was bright, magical and peaceful. She was currently at a ball. When she had come to Enoora, she obviously had no money. To obtain it, she decided to train at an assassination and witch hunting academy. It had been six years since then and a successful killing streak she had for herself. She was rich, famous and respected. What more could she want?

She was at an evening ball that one of the governors threw. Different people of aristocratic backgrounds danced, ate and drank to their heart's content. She sat at one of the tables occupied by no one. She was wearing a tight fitted red and white ball gown. Her large cleavage that she usually binds down for combat, on full public display. Her curly hair in a bun like updo with pearls decorations. Her neck is filled with pearls and the finest diamonds. Her sculpted honey tone face in light makeup. She scanned the room and noticed a man dressed in a gold and white tailored suit, heading her way. He had short black hair and a large mustache plastered on his tanned face. His eyes light brown. A straight teeth smile placed on his face as she took an uninvited seat next to her. "Well if it isn't Ethelinda." His tone is brash and annoying. The said girl gave him a tight lip smile and an awkward wave. "Hello, Sir Milhorn." She greeted him in a polite yet bored tone. Her eyes now fixated on the couple in front of her dancing and giggling. Milhorn laughed to himself before placing a piece of paper on the desk. 

Her attention snapped back to the host of the event. A hint of confusion swirling in her ice-like eyes. "I've got a job for you." "I only take jobs that have been approved by the church." He chuckled before tapping the red stamp of approval. Ethelinda internally cursed the man, staring dead in the eye. "You want me to hunt another accused woman for you?" "A male." He curtly corrected his face now losing the smile. It was serious, that much she could tell. "A male huh." It was certainly new. Most of the accused were women. He took out another item and it was a portrait of the most beautiful being she had ever seen. "That's not a man. It couldn't be." Milhorn laughed a bit too loudly, gaining the attention of the people around him. He waved at them, gesturing for them to continue with whatever activity they were carrying out. 

The portrait depicted a young man with a soft look. Skin is far too fair and delicate. His eyes were wide and green. A beautiful set of long eyelashes came with them. Hair shoulder length, brown and curly. His cheeks were rouge and full lips a pretty pink. He wore the clothing of a nobleman and was covered in the finest jewels. Yet again, this was different. "He's a nobleman." It was a question, more of a definitive statement. "Indeed he is. He belongs to the house of Phoenix. He was caught by his mother practicing magic and fled the scene." Ethelinda's face contorted into one of deep thought, she wasn't actually thinking but pretending that she was. "His parents along with the church have ordered his immediate execution. However, due to the fact that he is a nobleman. The governors have been sending their men to capture but have failed." He took a sip of his wine. A frown on his face. 

"They were seduced by him, weren't they?" 

His eyes widened and he started choking. "Don't spew nonsense. They were not seduced by him." He sounded extremely defensive. It was almost funny. "He is simply too tricky to obtain," He took another sip of wine before nonchalantly continuing. "Since you're the best at witch hunting, the church believes that you're the best fit for this." Ethelinda's lips curled up in a smile. She loved a good old praise. It was one of the many things that fueled her ego. "How much will I be paid once he's captured?" "Fifteen million moons." Her eyes widened, her mouth open and closed, imitating a fish. "Fifteen." She repeated in shock. 

Milhorn smiled widely, nodding his head. "I'll take it." Milhorn then smiled again. "That's not the only job. We've received word that the next Kingdom over the western borders,`` ''Sena." She stated. "Yes." He agreed. "They have placed a bounty on the princess and the minister of foreign affairs' heads. The Kingdom of Enoora and Sena are incredibly close. We won't allow a revolution to take the lives of friends." "You're insinuating that I protect them. Am I going to be paid for this?" An enquiry that needed an answer. "Handsomely." "Is this before or after the 

witch hunting job?" Milhorn stroked his mustache . "It'll be before. Their lives are more important." Ethelinda slumped back into her chair. 

"It's incredible how different yet so close the kingdom is." Milhorn looked at the girl as she spoke. "The kingdom of Enoora and the neighboring towns and villages prohibit the use of magic, and execute those who use it. Yet over at Sena, magic is encouraged in everyday life." 

"Well, we follow a certain custom and religion and they've decided to ditch it. That shouldn't ruin friendship should it." Ethelinda shook her head. "However, it does make you guys hypocrites." She stood from her seat and joined in on the dance that was going. Milhorn replayed her words and saw nothing but truth in them. The royals and the church were friends with the people of Sena. A country with magic. However they condemned their own people for the same things their friends possess. Milhorn stood and joined everyone. 

The night continued with drunken laughter and Ethelinda with an upcoming fat pocket, and journey that would have her obtain unlikely friendships. 

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She waltzed home, tipsy from the wine she had consumed. Something Milhorn had persuaded her to do. She whistled a little nursery rhyme her teacher used to sing to her, her eyes staring at the young men and women who were laughing at something. She took a sharp turn and entered a field area, a row cottage home in the middle. She walked up to the fourth one and took out her keys. With a quick unlocking, she swung the door open and closed it, landing on the lavender loveseat situated by the door. She was drained and she had to get ready by 10am. She opened the browning paper in her hand. It illustrated a map of Black Steel. A massive city where the Milhorn and the church stated the young princess and minister was going to be. Nyla. A beautiful name to match an equally beautiful woman. She had a rough journey ahead of her and she needed to get some rest. Wirh one final dumb thought, she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep. 

The hours of the early morning had rolled around much quicker than the girl would have liked. With porridge and a glass of milk, she was cranky and pretty much over everything. Her hair was in two French braids. She wore tight fitted, black cotton trousers with a sleeveless black v-neck shirt. A smile long leather jack on top. She wore a belt around the middle which contained a metal chain whip and a sword. "Cranky, are we?" An irritating low pitched male voice spoke. Ethelinda slung her luggage that was connected by a rope over the horse back, tying it into place. She placed her saddle and the reins over the horse and stroked the black stallion. She then turned around to face the now irritated owner of the voice. "Oh, Engel. I didn't see you there." Her tone is sickly sweet and a large grin on her face. "Did you say something?" "Nothing at all." He spat. Engel was an attractive young man. He had shoulder length wavy, black hair with white streaks. His skin was warm beige and smooth. His left eye had a black patch over it. He stood almost a foot taller than Ethelinda and she was tall herself. His face naturally contoured, lips full and eyes an amber shade. He wore the same attire as she did with the addition of dual black bladed swords strapped on his back. You'd think he was a god amongst men. "I'm guessing you're my partner for the journey. You of all people." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked curtly. He climbed his horse just as she did. "Oh nothing. Just don't get seduced by the princess or the minister." With that, she instructed her horse to speed up to the kingdom's gates. Two people stood there. A archbishop and a young nun. They both got off their horses and took turns kissing the archbishop's ring." Your grace, Sister Marina." Engel and Ethelinda simultaneously greeted them. "We're here to see you off and make prayer. Remember, the royal family of Sena have done so much for us. It's our turn to return the favour. Protect them with your life." The two hunters nodded and mounted their respective horses again. 

"Have a safe journey." Sister Marina's soft voice called out to them. "We will." They both replied. "Hypocrites." They both whispered when they were out the gates and along a forest trail. Engel and Ethelinda looked at each other before breaking into laughter. "Kill witches when they're from our land, but protect them when they're our friends and from a different land." Engel curtly stated. "It's unbelievably hypocritical." Ethelinda stated. "However, our pockets are going to be full." They both pointed at each other before laughing some more.