In the middle of the forest, there was a wood cabin, circled with willow trees and lit by the reflection of the moon, with a crooked oak door and a twisted chimney; it was the witch’s cabin, and Dave knew the place very well. He had grown to like the location over the years: for instance, he enjoyed the colorful variety of flowers and plants around the wooden house, or the slanted roof that always looked like it was about to slide off, or even the constant mist coming from the swamps behind the cabin. It was a place of peace and quiet, and he enjoyed the change from the busy life back at the village.

Only, he didn’t always think that way. He first came to the cabin about half a decade ago. He was a young man rushed into adulthood to take care of his family. His father had caught a terrible illness and he was left to take care of his many siblings alone with his mother. They struggled to make it without their father, and they prayed every day that he’d survive his illness, as without him their chances of survival were rather thin. Dave was the second-to-eldest son and seeing that every medical expert in the village thought of his father as a lost cause, he decided to rely on a miracle.

A man really had to be desperate in order to seek the help of a witch, and Dave was out of options. The village was well-aware of the witch who lived in the forest, but they collectively decided to ignore her: she never disturbed them, and they believed it would be less dangerous to leave her alone than try to get rid of her. People were told to never venture in the woods, to never seek the witch, but Dave was young and adventurous, he was at an age where he thought he was invincible; he was fortunate that the witch in question was nothing like the one in the stories he was told.

It took hours of walk into the dark forest and a stroke of good luck before he found the cabin in the morning. He noticed the ominous trees perched above the hut and the deadly plants creeping from the ground. The warped cabin was hidden behind a thick and somber fog, but he could make out the old, rotting wood of a house that seemed to be about to collapse on itself. A red mist was coming from the chimney, signaling that the witch was inside. Dave slowly approached the cabin, walking through its garden, but he didn’t come far before the witch stopped him.

Vines suddenly unleashed from the ground and crept unto his legs, restraining him from coming any closer. Dave tried to struggle out as the cabin’s door creaked open, slowly revealing the witch’s form. His eyes were locked on the silhouette as he felt the tight grip of the vines’ thorns shredding his arms and legs. He was initially terrified, but what he saw surprised him; he expected an ancient, shriveled monster to welcome him, but he was instead greeted by a woman who looked only a few years older than him, nothing about her was intimidating, not her small stature nor her big hazel eyes. But the witch did look different from the people of his village, she had dark brown skin and a large mane of curly hair all around her head.

The witch seemed angry with the trespasser, which explained her painful choice of a restraining method. She approached him but didn’t come too close, she held a large book in her arms and wore a vibrant red robe ornamented with flowers. She spoke loudly and severely, “I believe you are lost, sir.”

“I am not, witch, I have come for you.”

She tightened the vines, making him squirm in pain. He realized he worded it poorly.

“N-No, your help! I am… seeking… your help!”

The witch looked dubious, but she loosened her grasp slightly to let him breathe.

“You men never seek me or my help. How do I know you didn’t come to cut off my head and burn my home?”

“I seek no such thing, but you are right, I would have never come to you on a normal day. Only, I’m afraid I am distressed.”

“Didn’t you fear I would crush your bones and drink your blood?”

“I did, but I would give my life to save my father’s.”

The witch felt the sincerity in Dave’s plea, and she chose to listen to him. She heard him explain his father’s illness, his family’s misery and his last resort. She was bitter for all sorts of reason and didn’t peculiarly like to involve herself in the lives of the villagers, but she knew very well about the illness the young man was describing and although it was a nasty disease, it was something she could treat very easily. She hesitated to help him, but she remembered what her mother taught her, that witches cannot hold grudges, and she knew that she had to resolve this situation with kindness.

Dave remembered very well what happened next: overnight, Rose brewed medication for his father, and the next morning he left the witch’s cabin and walked back to the village. He didn’t know if what the witch gave him was going to poison his father, but if he didn’t try he would die anyway. Furthermore, his short meeting with the witch made him see that she wasn’t as terrible as he had been told, he saw humanity within her.

Over the years he noticed the obvious beauty of the witch’s cabin, and he grew fond of her too. That was precisely why it pained him so much to see her tonight. He was standing on her porch, as he did plenty of times in the past, but this time he was unusually filled with dread. Without knocking, he simply pushed in the door and called her name:

“Rose!”

The cabin seemed empty. It was dark and cold, as if nobody had been in it for days. He was partly worried, not knowing what would happen if she wasn’t there, but also partly relieved, hoping that she could avoid the fate prepared for her. Either fortunately or unfortunately, he went through the backdoor and spotted his friend, sitting on the ground with a dark robe, petting and feeding two gray wolves.

“Rose…”

She didn’t reply: the witch looked dreary, her robe seemed like a funeral garb, and her hair was untypically tied to form a large bunch. Her smile carried a certain sadness, and her eyes were looking at her wolves one last time to say goodbye.

“It’s… It’s time, Rose… I’m so sorry…”

She finally turned her head to him, trying to comfort him with a simple smile. Dave was clearly devastated by the situation, hence she tried to help him cope with it.

“It’s okay.”

She was genuine, but Dave couldn’t be convinced.

“No, it’s not! It’s not… It’s not okay…”

His voice broke at the turn of his sentence, and he grabbed his face with his hands, trying to keep the tears in. He thought he was so selfish for crying in front of her tonight, she was supposed to be the one crying, but there he was, seeking her support. Rose couldn’t bear to see her friend in that state, and she took it as an invite to get up and hold him in her arms. He returned the embrace, crying into her ear, holding her head against his chest.

The wolves, he thought, she was saying goodbye to the wolves. Through their friendship, he learned a lot from Rose, and he now knew that the witch was just as human as he was. All of her skills and talents, they might have been magic, but he was more impressed in seeing how close to nature she was. She had a way with the forest, from every sprout to every creature. He learned that on his second meeting with her.

When his father finally got better, while it might have taken weeks, it was thanks to the witch’s medication. After almost two years of being incredibly ill, Dave’s father was able to stand again, but more importantly, he was able to work. Dave didn’t lie to his family, and he told them the truth about the source of medication. While his mother wasn’t fond to hear that her son had met with the witch, she was immensely grateful about the medicine. The parents swore to never tell anyone else in the village and they asked Dave to seek the witch once more to give her a gift to show their gratitude.

He was then sent back into the woods, this time carrying a bucket of milk and the meat of two of their best turkeys. The witch was suspicious to see the young man back, and she first assumed that he was seeking more of her magic or that her medication didn’t work, and that he came to hang her. Consequently, she was very surprised when the young man offered her presents.

“I didn’t come here to seek more of you, witch. Your magic cured my father and my family wanted to express their appreciation.”

Dave held forward the milk and the poultry to the witch’s confusion.

“You want to thank me?”

“I do.”

She chuckled in disbelief, baffled but amused at the man’s sincerity. She approached the man without fear and took a better look at the presents. She was unsure.

“You carried all of this from your village?”

“I did.”

“You walked through the woods with the poultry without being mauled by wolves?”

“It seems to be the case.”

She looked at the offerings more closely, hesitating.

“I want you to take a sip of this milk and a bite of the bird.”

“I do not believe I understand.”

“I have no idea whether or not you poisoned the food. Consume some of it and prove to me that this isn’t an attempt to fool me.”

“Even the turkey? It is raw.”

The man had a point. She shook her head.

“Right. Just the sip, then.”

Knowing none of the food was poisoned, Dave complied. He dropped his hand in the bucket and drank from his cupped hand. The witch was watching closely but seeing his attitude she was convinced that it was all in good faith.

“It seems you’re not dropping dead.”

“Don’t you want to wait? I don’t think any poison would kill instantly.”

“I’m not worried, you don’t look like someone who voluntarily killed himself. Besides, I do not eat any of that.”

“You…”

He was looking at her in misunderstanding. He assumed the witch had human needs such as him, but it would’ve seemed the creature didn’t eat nor drink. He felt foolish.

“Of course, I apologize; I should’ve known witches did not need to eat.”

The witch laughed, clearly entertained by his innocence.

“Oh, no! I do eat, just not… that. I find it cruel to consume the flesh and livelihood of my neighbors.”

Dave looked at the meat and milk. He didn’t know much about witches, but he assumed she must’ve been close with animals. Still, he was shocked to hear that she wouldn’t eat a living being after hearing stories upon stories of baby-eating hags.

“Does it mean you won’t receive our present?”

“Well, I suppose I can do something with it.”

The witch grabbed the bucket and the turkeys and walked towards her cabin. She twitched her head on the side to signal Dave to follow her. The man didn’t know exactly what she meant, but he followed her. They went into the cabin, which he had already spent a night earlier. Once again he was pleased with the witch’s hospitality, and he enjoyed her nonchalant behavior. Back in his village, he was used to harsh days of labor and miserable chores, as if any day disaster could come and take everything away from them.

The time spent with the witch was much more carefree as if hours would go by without warning and life itself wasn’t a struggle. Dave thought he had a good life with his family but knowing more about the witch made him realize that things weren’t what he first assumed. At home, Dave would only survive, put in harsh hours of labor to live another day, but the witch truly lived.

He followed her through the cabin only to leave through the backdoor. Her backyard directly gave to a dense forest. Dave saw the witch putting the bucket on the ground and shake the two turkeys, calling two names.

“Wilhelm! Thomas!”

Soon, two grey wolves erupted from the woods, rushing towards them. Dave was startled by the two beasts, but he didn’t have time to be afraid as the two canines gently started biting on the turkeys and drinking the milk from the bucket. Dave was a tad disappointed to see his gifts being eaten by forest beasts, and the witch seemed to notice his bitter expression.

“Your presents will do us a lot of good, sir, we thank you.”

“Of course, only I wish I could’ve thanked you personally.”

“You did. To feed my neighbors is the best gift you could give me.”

“Are you sure? Tell me what you desire, and I’ll return with it tomorrow.”

“I have everything I need here, there is nothing I desire you could have. As long as you don’t decapitate me I’ll be thankful.”

“Of course.”

This would mark the beginning of a most precious friendship, one that would grow across the years. Dave would come back to the witch months later, and then every other month. Dave saw the benefits of the witch’s cures, and he came to ask her help anytime a villager would be in need. He acted as the intermediary between the witch and the village, and together they helped a lot of people.  Rumors of the origin of the medicine floated around, but the villagers knew that without Dave’s correspondence, their neighbors and relatives would live in misery, therefore it stayed an open secret.

Across the years, Dave would seek about just any excuse to go and meet the witch. He enjoyed her company a lot, and although he never sought to learn any of her tricks, he liked to see her do her magic. He enjoyed the sight of her spells and brews, and he became acquainted with her forest friends. The witch also enjoyed Dave’s company; there was something fun about his curiosity, and his genuine interest in her craft. She also enjoyed having someone around other than her wolves.

In other circumstances, they could’ve allowed their relationship to bloom into something amazing, but they both knew exploring their options posed an incredible risk. Still, with years their restraint would lose its hold, and they found themselves to grow fonder of each other. At this moment, holding her in his arms, Dave couldn’t stop cursing the people who betrayed them. He felt guilt for what was to happen to the witch because he knew things would be different if he would’ve never introduced her to his village, even indirectly.

She left Dave’s embrace and returned to her cabin. She had lit a candle in order to light up the room as she sat down to enjoy her last cup of tea. As if she could read in the young man’s mind, she said:

“It’s not your fault.”

But he didn’t agree.

“It is, Rose. I was… I was selfish, I shouldn’t have—”

“What? We helped these people; we did the right thing.”

“Stop it!”

“What?”

“Stop—Stop acting like… like they did nothing wrong, like things are going as they should. Stop being sorry for them!”

Rose sprung from her chair, insulted.

“Don’t you dare! I am not and will never be sorry for them. I am not pleased with how things are going either, Dave, but I am not surprised they’re blaming everything on me. My mother died a similar fate, and while I am irritated by the redundancy I will not pretend I didn’t see it coming.”

Dave tried grabbing her hands, but she pulled them back.

“They betrayed us, Rose, we can’t let them win.”

“We have to. Or else they’ll hang you.”

“Then let them.”

Rose finally held his hands, severely staring at him. She couldn’t bear to see him willing to die for her. It pained her to think someone could love her enough; she thought she didn’t deserve it.

“Dave, if you refuse to hand me over they won’t stop at killing you, they’ll burn down this forest with me in it. They have to watch me die or they’ll destroy everything I hold dear.”

He looked down, failing to find the words to convince her to escape.

“And you cannot die, Dave, you have a family; you’ll be missed. I have no one, I can go in peace.”

“What about me? Don’t you know I love you?”

He was trying to take a look at her, but Rose was looking away, ashamed. She was ready to go but Dave was making it much harder for her.

“Dave… Don’t...”

He was trying to catch her stare, but she didn’t have the heart to look him in the eyes. It finally was catching up to her, the sadness, it came from somewhere deep inside her soul and trying to exit through her tears. She was holding back, desperately trying to keep the façade up, but she couldn’t hide away from her feelings anymore.

“Don’t what? Your sacrifice is nothing of heroic, it is all cruel.”

“You make it sound as if there was another option.”

Dave hastily caught Rose’s cheek and held it in front of him. Closer, she could spot how much panic had infected his mind, and she could tell there was a hint of anger in there aimed at his powerlessness.

“There has to be.”

“And yet, here we are.”

Rose giggled quaintly and sadly. She tipped her head into his palm and closed her eyes.

“I don’t know… I don’t know what I’ll do without you, Rose.”

“You’ll be fine, you’re a charming young man, I’m sure you’ll…”

“I don’t think so. I will love you with or without you; to love another would mean to find someone I would love more than you, which is impossible.”

“But… why?”

The witch’s voice was breaking as her eyes filled up with tears. The young man didn’t know how to put in words what he felt in his soul, but he knew how to express it. Tenderly, he kissed her; he pulled her into an embrace while she held her arms against his chest. Both were trying to keep back the tears to not drown each other.

They would spend so many weeks apart that every time their bodies met, the memories of every moment they were intertwined would play at once in both of their minds. It was a relationship mostly lived in denial, through their friendship it seemed a mutual desire grew, but none was willing to admit it, until now. They knew what disasters awaited a union of their kind, and despite living a lie, their bodies never failed to show honesty.

Their relationship arose from mutual respect, but their love grew through admiration and passion. Their attraction for each other came from an unknown place, a dimension where both met with the one thing they were missing. For him, it was an exciting adventure to escape his monotonous routine. For her, it was the careful support and attention of a loving soul. It was something both never thought they needed, but once found there were no more doubts.

Their passion, they found, was organic; it crept on them without their notice and they synchronized. It was impossible to determine when was the first time they exercised their passion; every hour spent in the witch’s bed were weaved together in a monochrome web that could only tell when they were or were not loving each other, but they could remember every kiss at once, and every intercourse overlapped into one ethereal scene.

It was her skin held against his when he carried her to the bed; his pants being hurriedly unbuckled to release his throbbing erection; her small hands holding his shoulders as he sucked her breasts, his lips carefully kissing every inch of her thighs; her small body twitching as his tongue penetrated her sex, her hands grabbing his head and pulling it into a kiss as he came inside her.

It was the smoothness of her dark skin, the floral scent of her curly hair, her profound brown eyes, her delicate hands, her strong arms, her withheld moans, her soft ass and long, passionate kisses.

It was his wild dark hair, the brush of his short beard, his intoxicating heat, his sturdy lips, his dexterous hands, his wide shoulders, his thick arms, his solid shaft and rapid hips.

All summarized in a single kiss.

Their lips detached and they both stared into each other, sharing this last moment of love together before it all came to an end. It was only an embrace, but it held in it every drop of passion they ever shared. It gave them the strength to continue, and soon enough they left the cabin, forever leaving it behind, expecting it to be reclaimed by the forest in the years to come.

It was a long walk in the forest, one Dave had been accustomed to over the years, but this time it felt like an eternity, and it didn’t feel nearly long enough. It was shared in silence, as they both contemplated what would be to happen next, none of them knowing what to tell the other.

Tonight, Dave was tasked to retrieve the witch and bring her to the village where she would burn. Without a trial or any mercy, they had decided to put on her all of their blame, despite all the good she brought on them. A terrible plague first appeared in the town’s crops, and it seeped into their wives and children. As soon as it started, the young man ran to the witch for her help, and despite countless attempts, it was one illness Rose couldn’t heal. The plague came and went, killing many, and the town decided it was the wrath of their God, punishing them from their correspondence with a witch. They planned her execution to be their apology.

Despite a silent trip from the cabin to the town, it was as if a product of terrible timing, or perhaps a result of the approaching urgency that, as they finally came near the village, he grabbed her arm and stopped her. They were in sight of his father, who had been waiting at the town’s entrance with two other men.

He was annoyed to see his son hesitating, he spoke, “Son, you’re finally here. Give us the witch and you can come back with us, with your mother and me.”

“I changed my mind.”

Dave turned to Rose, ignoring his father’s scowl.

“I am not letting you go in there.”

She pulled her arm out of his grasp.

“It is not something for you to decide.”

“We can leave together, Rose.”

Dave’s father could hear every word, and he was furious with his son’s blasphemy.

“Dave, hand her over.”

“No, father, she did nothing wrong!”

“She murdered many! Don’t you forget we suffered too; I lost two of my children, and you, two of your siblings. She’s to blame, can’t you see she’s bewitching you?”

Rose looked away. She couldn’t take this anymore, not right now. Nevermore. She had to watch her mother burn at the stake, for a reason so absurd she couldn’t even remember. She knew, out of a million fates, she would find the same as her mother’s. She walked towards the guards, turning her back to him.

“I am going Dave, I bid you farewell.”

She stopped and kept looking away. She smiled to herself.

“It was… wonderful. I couldn’t have hoped for a better fate.”

“No!”

Rose was violently picked up by the villagers and drawn into the town. Dave wanted to run to them and help her, but he suddenly felt the ground below him cave in, dropping him into a hole. It was Rose’s last spell, an attempt to keep him behind, keep him from seeing her suffer a terrible demise. Before going, his father spoke to him one last time.

“Don’t you ever come back to us, Dave. You are no child of mine, not anymore.”

He was buried to his waist with dirt, and he couldn’t move any further. He shouted her name, trying to claw his way out of the hole, but it was no use. Rose was carried into the village, leaving him behind. It was the last he saw of her.

It took hours for Dave to dig himself out of the hole. With his bare hands, he shoveled the ground around him to free his limbs from the dirt. For hours, he felt as his body wanted to give up, but he had to continue. He hoped to arrive in time, but he could hear the shouts of the crowd chanting the witch’s death. He wasn’t even halfway out of the hole when he first saw the flames, a massive light in the distance followed by the cheers of a hundred villagers. He tried not to cry, to keep hope; but he was only out by sunrise.

Dave was sheltering himself under a denial of certainties, hoping that the witch was able to escape, but he dropped any pretense of this prospect when he arrived in the town center and witnessed a pit of coal; ashes and dust mixed in with the sand. He could only make the skeleton of his former lover, charred by the hate of an entire town.

The young man didn’t know where to go. His family already chased him out of his house, he had no more reason to stay in the village. His following thoughts came partly because he thought of it as a second home, and partly because he missed her dearly; the only place where he felt he still belonged was in Rose’s cabin. Without a thought, he walked back into the woods.

He didn’t know what he would do there, but he did know that it was the only place he could allow himself to mourn her. He wanted to remember her, rehash their memories together. Chop them up and mix them into new moments, new stories. It was the only way he could stay close to her, he thought.

He arrived in the cabin almost expecting to see her there, waiting. Telling him that she had found some way to escape, that she was waiting for him. He was welcomed by an empty cabin, and he tried to be disappointed, but he never had the heart to actually expect anything more.

He looked around her home, faintly lit by the early sunshine, and he investigated all of her belongings; every book, every glass bottle, every robe and every stone were turned in an effort to find more things about her that he already knew. Find new memories, new ideas he could’ve overlooked before. He read the tomes, tried to decipher every rune, tried to learn every spell. He sat on the floor and with every new thing he’d learn, he felt closer to her, so he kept on reading. Hours turned into days; days turned into weeks.

Then, into years.

Nobody ever knew where the witch lived, Dave was the only one who unexpectedly stumbled upon it years ago. No villager knew where the cabin was, and no one sought to find it. The witch was dead, and they saw no interest and seeking other curses into the forest.

Dave lived there in peace, all alone, and while in the beginning, he kept on trying to relive the past, he realized that the only thing he could do was not to mourn her but to honor her. He took on her role, trying to become as kind to the forest as she were, every instant wishing he asked more questions, but every time finding answers in the most unusual places. Rose lived with him, as much as she could, and even though he would have preferred to have her by his side,

This was enough.