Looking through my files from a writing class, I came across this. The assignment was to write a scene in a different point of view. This is about mid-way into Nyx, once Kaylea and Michael confront the infamous witch, Baba Yaga (her point of view). Enjoy:
Change is riding the wind. This witch’s withered bones ache in it. Two youths have slipped past the phantom’s boundary. Common folk have not been permitted to do so for ages. Was this by accident, or is there something far more sinister at work? I do hope I can play a part!
Persuasion will lead them to seek me out for knowledge, sooner or later. Today is a good day for crazy to come play. Such a pity it didn’t happen sooner, back when I was in my prime. But today suits me just fine.
Outside, I caught several silhouettes, loading onto my porch.
“What did I tell you—how lovely?” I said, hobbling to the door.
My faithful companions failed to answer me. “Come on minions, no chatterboxes today?” A commotion of hisses and squawks filled the room as all my creatures conveyed their inability to speak. “Do remind me to strengthen that aptitude for you all.”
Closer, I could see them clearly, “Ahhh, look at her.” I said with my fingers tapping air. “She’s done well, coming this far.” A sting in my spine crippled pace to almost a crawl. “Oh, this wretched back,” I was quick to complain.
“Door–initiate open,” I ordered. It creaked open just as I could slip into the doorway to finally greet them. Half blinded by this inadequate hood, my hands sprung into action to remove it.
Outside stood the very thing I’d been hoping for. Yes, strong, strapping young individuals to accomplish greatness. Not a peep was heard. The poor things reeked with fear, especially this young one they call Kaylea. She did well to hide it, other than her blue mountainous eyes. Blonde curls and pasty complexion, she was just as I imagined, and so was her male sibling, so adorable.
Beside them was who they call Bysen, beastly troll of a man. Ready to pounce, his weight shifted back and forth between grumbles. He’s sadly mistaken if he thinks he has a fighting chance against my perfected conjuring.
Then my face did something I did not recognize, it had been so long. I was actually smiling. “Well, dear—you’ve done me proud,” I broke the silence, “surprised you’ve ventured this far—and gutting your fear. How lovely!”
None of them answered. Oh, this is boring. “Well, come inside or go away!” I rasped, hobbling away from the door. They have ten seconds to enter, or I lock them out!
Past my thin patience, they did venture in. Blank expressions dressed their faces. This thing they call a smile had not yet left me. I settled into my trusted chair, and an exhale shot out as I wiggled to find just the right comfort.
None of them had found the courage to speak yet. So, I thought I would help them find their tongues with food offerings. “Help yourselves to the provisions,” I said haughtily. “Stomachs must be famished from the miles you’ve tromped to visit me in my isolation. I must admit—it’s been a long time since we’ve had visitors. Too long, I’d say.” That hurt to say that out loud.
Now…what to possibly do with them? Do I become friend or foe? Decisions…decisions.