Witches Isle Chapter 11
Not so Alone
She froze. Stunned to hear a human voice for the first time in months, she was unable to move, her brain using all possible resources to try and make sense of it. Come to think of it, she had thought she’d heard a voice once before, but had shaken it off, thinking it was a manifestation of her own loneliness.
“Hello?” she tentatively asked the empty space.
“You’re a bit daft, aren’t you?”
She blinked rapidly, still shocked but now also insulted. “I think I’m having a normal reaction to a disembodied voice, thank you very much. Who the hell are you?”
“That’s better, I thought you had a little spunk in there somewhere.”
The surprise was wearing off, quickly outpaced by the frustration. “Answer my question! Who are you, where… what… How are you talking to me!?!”
A low cackle filled the room. “I’m not anywhere in particular. The what is also undefined. But the who, that I can answer. I’m Hester.”
She turned in a circle, slowly, looking around for a source of the voice. Scarlet was still sitting on the table, nonplussed, watching a fly in the kitchen. Nothing was out of the ordinary, as far as her eye could detect. “Hester. A ghost of a witch from this house’s past I’m guessing?”
“I’m not a ghost!” the voice boomed, startling her. Scarlet leapt from the table and scampered away.
“Sorry, I just assumed because of Scarlet…”
“I’m…” the voice paused. “Well, I’m not quite sure what I am.” She waited for more. “I loved my dear Scarlet so much, I put a spell on her, so that she would always be with me, even beyond the grave. As I expected, that turned her into a ghost. What I didn’t expect, was that after I died… the spell worked as much on me as it did on her.”
When the voice did not continue, she asked “So, how does it work, exactly?”
“Well I don’t know, exactly,” the voice replied. “It seems my consciousness has stayed around, taking neither ghostly nor corporal form. Sometimes my voice is available to me, other times it is not. I see and I don’t see. I hear and I don’t hear. I am and I am not. Sometimes I wake and am aware of all that happens in this house. I can see all, all at once. A kind of omniscience. Other times suddenly days, weeks, years have passed that I cannot account for.”
She considered this. Curious, she queried “Are you only able to haunt this house?”
“I do not haunt, as I am not a ghost.” The voice audibly bristled. “But I cannot leave these grounds, neither can Scarlet.”
“I wonder if you only are conscious when Scarlet appears. Is she always visible to you when you’re, umm, awakened?”
Hester answered “I supposed so, when she roams the grounds so do I, when she sleeps beside you I am watching.”
So I’m not as alone as I thought I was. “Wait, so does that mean it’s been you talking to me… in my head, with my thoughts?”
“… no?” There was a pause. “Honestly, my spell was a dangerous one, far beyond the reaches of my ability. It seems that in the process I transferred some of my consciousness, my essence, into Scarlet, and it merged with her soul. The messages she sends you are her own, though she seems to have adapted some of my, say, mannerisms. Caustic wit, too.” She smiled at that.
“Scarlet does seem to have a sassy little mind of her own.” Bitch please. I’m not sassy, I’m terrifying. Her tail flicked as Scarlet walked past her.
“She seems to have picked up some of your turn of phrase too.” She colored a bit then chuckled when Hester continued; “It suits her.”
“So… why did you decide to talk to me? Why now?”
An audible sigh filled the space, then Hester responded. “Well, it’s been a long time since anyone had come here, a long time since I’d been here, in whatever sense I am here. But then you came. And Scarlet started showing up more often, getting comfortable with you…” Comfortable is a strong word. Scarlet had returned to the table, nonchalant but evidently ready to be part of the conversation. “Yes, well you’re certainly hanging around more than usual, which means I’m around more than I’m used to, and I have been observing your… progress with some interest.”
“My progress?” If you could call it that. She swiped at the cat, who deftly evaded her and settled on the far end of the table. “You mean…”
“Yes. You are becoming a witch. Slowly, and rather awkwardly, I might add.” She rolled her eyes but didn’t dispute it. “And your whole philosophy of doing this on your own, not needing any guidance…”
“Wait, how do you know that?”
“Scarlet speaks to you through your thoughts. Have you not considered that if she can insert thoughts into your head, that she, we might also be able to observe the ones already there?” She colored deeply, mortified at the idea of someone, even a not-really-here someone, having access to her thoughts. “Not all of them,” Hester clarified, “it’s not automatic, but we can tune in, catch the gist. You don’t know how to protect your inner world yet. Anyways, as I was saying. Yes, it is good to look inward, especially when you’ve been blithely following others for a long time. But eventually there’s no reason to repeat the mistakes someone else has already learned from.”
She pondered this. “I don’t want to be a follower, to be at the whim of some other witch, some cult leader, not again.”
Hester’s tone softened. “You can let yourself be taught without losing your inner guidance.” She let the thought sit with her. She had been struggling lately. “Trust yourself enough to listen with detachment. Take what serves you, leave the rest. We won’t be angry or disappointed.” She hesitated. It’s gotta be better than the spinning your wheels alone with your misinterpreted books and your burnt spells. She scowled at Scarlet but knew she was right, considering her various mishaps thus far.
“Ok. I’m listening.”
