Come Back Witch

Vinces felt like he could fall over from the sofa and his world slowly began to spin. What was she talking about? How could she sacrifice him and why exactly him?

But before he could ask, Lysandra already spoke up. "Believe me, I didn't want this."

Her gaze was filled with sadness, but Vinces couldn't care less about her feelings.

"I do not care about what you want, I simply want to know what will happen to me." His voice had regained its former sharpness as he hissed at her.

He stood up, wanting to grab her and force her to answer, but his hand just went right through her body.

She stared at him, her gaze mixed between disappointment and pity as she slowly opened her mouth.

"While my body died, I bound myself to the next best human I saw on the street where we first met. Normally the village elder would've driven there at the time, but I barely missed him it seems."

Binding herself to him, what does that even mean? And it still didn't explain why he's going to die. He took a step back from her, sitting back down.

"Then why will I die? I don't have anything to do with your condition.'' He asked genuinely, confused.

At his question, she let out a small sigh, readying herself for a few moments to answer. "To survive in this form, I have to consume lots of energy. By binding myself to you, I started using your energy, your life force."

"My life force?" His question hung in the air, but no answer arrived. Instead, the witch stood up and started picking up the tea set.

With each move Vinces seemed more infuriated; he had no clue what the witch was thinking and seeing her not answer, he just didn't know what to do.

Lysandra finally picked up the last piece and spoke quietly. "You should've already been dead if you didn't advance to the rising rank. You probably only have a few weeks left until you die.''

Slowly moving towards the door, she spoke one last time. "I'm sorry," and she then disappeared once more before he could question her.

Vinces grabbed his hair, pulling it. He can't die, not yet. There must be a way.

Feeling blood run down his face, he stopped, instead he smashed his hand into the old wooden table, breaking it nearly in two. The pain was manageable, his advancement seemed to have even increased his pain resistance.

His thoughts were running wild, thinking of every possible solution but finding none.

Why did she originally want the village elder and what did she mean he would've died already if he didn't advance?

A mad idea flooded his mind, he simply must advance once more or find the elder.

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Staring at the broken table, his historian heart felt bad for what he had done. But instead of remaining where he was, he started sprinting up the tower, taking small modern stairs.

Entering the second floor, he grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. But standing on the other side, Lysandra blocked his way to ascend the tower.

"I can't risk you dying until I have restored my power." Her voice was cold, all its former warmth having disappeared.

But Vinces didn't mind her, instead he moved right through her. But she moved her hand as he fell to the ground just a second later, unconscious.

Lysandra stared at his body, feeling pity for the young man. She didn't want this.

It must be terrible to find out someone had to die just because of her mistake; no, so many mistakes were made to let this to happen.

Failing her advancement was already bad enough, but then she wasn't able to find the elder who is of the elevated rank and might've gotten her enough time to stabilize, no instead she found a weak human.

At least to her surprise, both of them were still alive; his advancement really bought him more time, but it still wasn't enough, it only improved his life force by a bit, by far not enough to sustain her forever.

Looking at the young man on the floor, she snapped her fingers, warping space, sending him through the floor right onto one of the sofas.

Right now she could only hope to die slowly, or else her barrier would fall.

He had to survive as long as possible, because if the barrier of the village fell, it would be destroyed just after.

"It will be close, there just isn't enough time." Wandering around the room, she tried calculating how much time she had left.

A month? No, not even maybe three weeks at most and she would have to stop using magic for even a chance.

They should be able to escape within two weeks and then get help from the outside. Staring at the broken living room table, she wanted to move her hand out of instinct to restore it but was barely able to stop herself.

She can't be careless, if she wanted to live and even try to help this man, she'd have to make it possible.

For the first time in years, she truly felt useless, as if she had become a battery for the lives of others. It was kind of ironic, she herself used somebody as a battery only to be one herself.

"I will protect the village, Father, just like I promised." Her voice was nothing more than a whisper, but to her, it was so much more something that could never be broken.

Even if the price was her own life and one other measly life. She could not break her promise, never.

Even when trying to talk herself into it, she found herself petting the head of the unconscious Vinces, removing the blood with a napkin from the table.

Her consciousness wanted to force her to lock him into a room until all this was over, but she couldn't; after all, it was her fault he was here. At least she could try to keep her manners.

If only she could leave this place and talk to the elder herself, but she knew only inside her garden she was even able to touch things or be seen, except for one individual, because they were bound and could see and hear her anywhere.

Unsure what to do exactly, she slowly stood up once again. Her formerly elegant steps had become more clunky as she walked up the stairs. Returning to the second floor, she opened the door into an empty room except for a single gigantic painting leaning on the wall.

On the painting were three people; in the middle was a man, stone old, sitting on a chair, his long white hair being longer than himself. Holding his legs were two young girls no older than 10. One of them had an unnatural pinkish hair tone and pink eyes, while the other had familiar platinum hair and green eyes.

"Father, please tell me what I must do." Lysandra sat down on the floor in front of the painting, weakly touching the hand of her young self.

As expected, nobody answered her plea, but Lysandra still felt better; she always did after visiting her family. Slowly rising, she made up her mind, she would force Vinces to stay here to ensure his survival and the possibility of both their rescue.

Leaving the room felt once again like she left behind her real family, but her decision was set in stone. She slowly descended the stairs, only giving the still sleeping Vinces a small gaze.

"He must stay in perfect condition or else the timing will be off," Lysandra told herself, moving towards her kitchen. She hadn't cooked or eaten in months, not like she had any need to.

Preparing just another tea and some biscuits, she returned to the living room. Placing them on top of a small coffee table at the side, she moved over towards Vinces.

He shook his body a few times, waking him from the sleep, his eyes moved in panic around the room, seemingly trying to find out what happened.

"I prepared some snacks; please grab some and then we can talk a bit," Lysandra asked the barely awoken Vinces, his eyes missing their normally suspicious look; instead, it was replaced with something else.

Vinces simply nodded at her request, slowly rising and walking towards the coffee table.

Lysandra, in the meantime, thought about how to explain to him that he would be staying here and maybe even end in this tower. But Vinces broke her concentration with the screeching of metal.

She turned around towards him, he was holding a spoon or what was left of one. He had ripped it into two.

They both stared at each other.

Vinces moved the sharp end.

Not towards her, instead towards his own throat.

"We're going to talk," Vince said quietly, pressing the sharpened metal against his throat. "Because if I'm dying anyway, then you die with me."