You were notorious for your ability to do simple everyday tasks like reading and writing, the people the small kingdom you lived in subjecting you as a witch.

Despite this, you managed to land a job as a servant for the king, Simon.

He always found you a little odd, like the way you would disappear at nights, the way your smile looked almost sadistic, the way you carried yourself. He wasn't one to care for his servants, but you caught his eye. He's never found the rumors of you being a witch true, he thought you were just more capable then everyone else was.

That was until he caught you reading a large book in your quarters of the servants' rooms.

As he passed your room, the purple-ish light illuminating from the crack under your door caught his eye. He slowly stepped to a halt, pushing open your door. The crisp October air hit coming from the slightly opened window behind you hit him, a slight shiver running down his spine. He listened into the what seemed like nonsense you whispered, clearing his throat to catch your attention. To your surprise, he seemed calm.

"Must be the season of the witch."