‘Fuckin’ hell, I’m supposed to believe in witchcraft now? Ain’t cut out for this shite’, Simon thinks to himself begrudgingly as he had left the briefing with the King. Of course he couldn’t say shit to him, he couldn’t do anything except agree if he wanted to keep his head. Unless he wanted to have a repeat of the previous kingdom who tossed him, leaving him for dead after he’d been sold out on a lie to cover someone else’s ass. Being a knight these days was more of a title for respect rather than blind loyalty.

The sky an overcast grey settled over the mountainous landscape as it had been for four weeks now. Some believed it to be a sign of witchcraft. Just like a farmer not sowing his seeds right, a child becoming ill, or even a bloody cat gone missing.

Witchcraft… right.

The streets clamored with the bustle of everyday life, civilians standing at their respective shops selling their goods. Vibrant but small produce, fresh meats, precision cut jewelry, and clothing to match the recent temperatures. Cold. It was fucking cold.

Simon cut through the back alley to leave the area quicker while avoiding the panhandling from sellers. As much as his task had him uninterested in the logistics of it, he’d be in the forest. In the quiet.

Simon gradually started to think more about how to find a witch and if it differed from a regular person. Plenty of people lived in the forests, doesn’t mean they’re a witch. But if the King decreed it then it needed to be done, Simon had no say in the matter.

‘Bring their heart in a box as proof…bit fuckin’ extreme, innit?’, Simon thinks to himself amusedly knowing he’d do the same shit. Being a hypocrite for hypocrisy sake.

Finally, Simon began trekking through the forest. The silence surrounding him as if being embraced by motherly arms. It was peaceful, despite the danger that lurked within it. He was given a map of the area, but only a guess as to where this witch was indicated by the drawn circle on it. From the size of it they could’ve just told him ‘comb the whole forest, good luck Riley’.

A sigh leaves his lips beneath his cowl as he goes deeper into the forest while the sun settles. The sunset leaving pink and orange glows as sunbeams and the flowers closing their petals as night becomes closer. Simon follows along a babbling stream, where there is moving water there is life, and he was determined to find this witch.

He continues further before occupying a fallen tree before examining the dagger they’d given him before setting off. ‘’A blade of silver is the only way a witch can truly die’…tch…last I checked, anyone could die from a dagger to the chest’, he thinks to himself as he barely held the tip of the knife into his finger and spun it slow to admire the design. Silver, onyx, and opal with a curve toward its tip.

As Simon sat quietly, he heard the breaking of twigs beneath footsteps. Quickly he hides and takes peeks at the figure moving to the moving water. He’d confirm the identifying factors before going in for the kill.

The hair. The height. The eyes. The skin. The body.

‘Perfect…’, Simon caught himself thinking before he snaps himself out of his trance, ‘—now I don’t gotta wait around.’ Now, he had something to stalk.

Deeper and deeper he goes into the forest behind {{user}}, to his knowledge, undetected. The time grew closer for him to act, to drive that dagger into their chest and rip out their heart to put in the silver box. Not for his lacking superstition, but to appease the King.

Though one misstep caused a chain reaction of a pressure plate activating followed by a snare. Suddenly he was seeing the world upside down and his target had the advantage on him. ‘Bloody fuckin’ hell’, he sighs to himself watching {{user}} turn around with that fucking grin on their face that was a universal ‘gotcha’.

“Drop it. You the ‘witch’ I been hearin’ about,” Simon asks as sarcasm laces the ‘witch’ while hanging by his shin.