The Witch's Apprentice: Chapter 28

Ambushed

Hello and welcome back to The Witch’s Apprentice. if you’re new here, I recommend starting from chapter 1. Otherwise, welcome back!

In the last chapter, we took a step back in time to follow Henry’s old adventuring party on their journey through the Rannoc Ranges. Somehow, the party’s druid, Elisa, had fallen asleep on her shift and someone had snuck into the camp to steal their gold and Elisa’s gryphon feather. Following the tracks into a gorge, the party was surprised by a friendly dragon who told them that the thief’s name was Caraghal and warned them to be nice to him.

We pick up the story just after the dragon has left and the group is trying to make sense of what just happened.

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Chapter 28: Ambushed

“Where’s my gryphon feather?” Elisa repeated, her voice sharp as she looked around. “And why am I tied to this horse?”

“Well, if you hadn’t fallen asleep on your watch, we’d still have our gold, and you’d still have that god’s damned feather,” Duldren mumbled, as he adjusted his pack.

Elisa spun toward him, her green eyes blazing. “What did you just say? I’ve never fallen asleep on watch, and you know it.”

“All right, let’s calm down,” Girk said, stepping between them. “I’m not going to stand here in the rain listening to the two of you arguing.

“But…”

“No buts,” Girk continued turning toward duldren. “You said yourself someone cast a powerful spell on her. Nobody here’s to blame.”

Duldren let out a long breath, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “You’re right,” he said, still grumbling. “Sorry.”

Elisa’s face softened. She gave a small nod. “It’s fine. But someone untie me already. I’d rather not stay tied to a horse while you all argue.”

Henry stepped forward, fingers fumbling with the wet rope. The rough texture scraped against his hands, but eventually he managed to loosen the knot. A moment later, Elisa slid down from the saddle, brushing off her cloak as she landed on the muddy ground.

“Now,” she said, looking between them, “someone explain what’s going on.”

Girk and Henry quickly filled her in, the stolen gryphon feather, the gold, the spell that had left her unconscious.

“So what now?” Henry asked, wiping rain from his face, boots squishing in the mud as he shifted his weight from side to side.

Girk shrugged, feathers slick from the rain. “We look for this Caraghal. Whoever, or whatever, they are. The dragon seemed to think they’re the one we’re after.”

“I still can’t believe we met a real-life dragon,” Henry said, glancing up at the misty sky, awe flickering in his eyes.

Duldren moved beside him, his beard dripping. “My grandfather told me he’d seen one in the distance many years ago. I never thought I’d live to see one with my own eyes.”

Elisa frowned, her gaze drifting down the gully where mist clung to the uneven walls. “What if this Caraghal is dangerous? We don’t even know what we’re dealing with.”

“Then we deal with it together,” Henry said firmly, his hand resting instinctively on the sword at his side.

They set off, quiet except for the squelch of boots in the mud and the occasional snort from the horse. The gorge walls rose on either side, fading in and out of the thickening mist.

Suddenly, a gust of wind howled through the gully, powerful enough to make Henry stumble and grab at the nearest rock for balance. The mist twisted violently, shredded by the wind, then a deafening roar split the air.

“What’s happening?,” Duldren shouted, his hand already on the hilt of his axe.

Above them, the dragon emerged from the stormy sky, its golden scales gleaming like molten metal against the dim light. Its yellow eyes burned with fury as it circled overhead, wings beating the air with heavy beats.

“Turn back mortals!” the dragon roared, its voice echoing through the gully like thunder. “You’re not welcome here!”

“What in the gods’ name?” Henry yelled, his voice cutting through the chaos as Girk fought to calm the panicking horse.

“It’s going to attack,” Elisa shouted, but before anyone could respond, the dragon unleashed a torrent of fire. The flames tore through the mist, igniting the sparse bushes along the rocky slope. The roar of the blaze filled the air, a deafening crackle that drowned out all other sounds as the fire surged and consumed everything in its path.

“Back! Get out of here!” Henry shouted, raising his arm to block the heat.

The horse reared, eyes wild with fear, but Girk held firm, pulling it down. Duldren stumbled back, cursing as the fire consumed the ground ahead, blocking their path further into the gorge.

Smoke mixed with the mist, stinging Henry’s eyes and filling his nose with the acrid scent of burning foliage. The dragon swooped lower, its wings stirring the smoke into wild spirals.

“You will not disturb this place!” it bellowed, its voice a terrifying mix of rage and authority.

“Back up! Keep to the walls!” Girk commanded, dragging the horse toward the wall of the gully.

They scrambled back, the heat searing their backs as they retreated. Henry’s heart pounded, the roar of the flames mingling with the thunderous beat of the dragon’s wings. Finally, it ascended again, its enormous form silhouetted against the gray sky. It roared one last time, the sound shaking the ground beneath their feet. Then, with a powerful beat of its wings, it vanished into the mist, leaving the gully smoldering in its wake.

Breathing heavily, Henry glanced at the others. Their faces were pale, but otherwise they were unharmed.

“What in all the hells,” Duldren grumbled. “That stupid overgrown chicken almost burned my beard to a crisp.”

“Why was it suddenly so aggressive?” Elisa asked.

“I was wondering the same thing,” Girk cut in. “Why would it help us wake you up and tell us where to find the thief, only to attack us moments later?”

Henry let out a shaky breath, staring at the blackened slope ahead. “It makes no sense. But let’s hope it doesn’t come back. I don’t think we’d survive round two.”

The group fell into uneasy silence, the sound of dripping water and distant echoes filling the gully. The faint smell of smoke still lingered, mingling with the earthy scent of rain-soaked stone.

“Something’s off,” Elisa said, her tone thoughtful. “The dragon wasn’t like this before. It didn’t seem hostile at all when we first met it.”

“And another thing,” Girk added, ruffling his damp feathers. “That fire… there was a lot of it. The roaring, the crackling, the way it lit up the mist, plenty of noise and light. But no heat. None of us even got singed.”

Duldren, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly muttered under his breath, “An illusion.”

The group turned toward him, puzzled.

Duldren straightened, his brow furrowed in deep thought. “Whoever’s in there doesn’t want to be found. That fire, the dragon, none of it was real. Someone cast an illusion powerful enough to drive us back.”

Elisa’s eyes narrowed. “So, what do we do? Turn around?”

“Not a chance,” Henry said, gripping his sword firmly. “If someone went to this much trouble to keep us out, then we’re definitely on the right track.”

Duldren nodded, his jaw set with determination. “I’ll handle it. The magic’s clever, but it can be broken.”

They regrouped, sticking closer together this time as they headed back into the gully. No one said anything, but each of them moved with more care now. The mud sucked at their boots, and their hands stayed near their weapons. Girk led the way, guiding the horse. Elisa stayed close beside him, eyes scanning the thick mist. Henry kept to the right, sword ready, and Duldren brought up the rear, mumbling under his breath, short, focused words that sounded like spellwork.

The mist was thicker now, curling around them like fog, cold and heavy. It clung to their clothes and seemed to press down on them, making every step harder than it should have been.

Then the sounds started again, first the faint crackle of flames, then the heavy beat of wings overhead, stirring the mist into swirling eddies ahead of them.

“Stay behind me,” Duldren said, stepping forward with raised hands. “This might take a moment.”

The others waited, weapons drawn, as Duldren muttered a low incantation. The air around them seemed to pulse, the mist shifting unnaturally as the illusion pushed back against his spell. The sound of roaring flames grew deafening, and Henry’s ears rang as he glanced nervously around the gully.

“Come on, Duldren,” Girk muttered, his talons gripping the reins tightly as the horse tossed its head.

Sweat trickled down Duldren’s brow despite the cool air. With a final grunt, he slammed his hand to the ground, and a ripple of energy rolled out from the point of impact. The mist pulled back, twisting away and fading as the illusion broke apart.

The sudden silence was jarring as the roaring flames vanished, and the gully returned to its damp, misty state. The burned bushes, the glowing embers, gone, like they’d never been there.

Duldren straightened, panting slightly. “It’s done,” he said, wiping mud from his hands.

Henry looked around, his eyes narrowing as he spotted something through the thinning mist. “There,” he said, pointing ahead.

Not far from where they stood, the mouth of a cave loomed in the rocky wall, dark and uninviting.

“That’s where we’ll find our answers,” Elisa said, her voice steady.

“And probably more trouble,” Girk added, a small grin pulling at his beak.

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