The Witch of Selvenor

By Brooke Losee

Darkness consumes Selvenor under the rule of dark magic.

When his kingdom is seized by an evil witch, Prince Anaros is cast into the dungeon. Twenty years of imprisonment leaves him hopeless of ever being free—both of his stone confines and of his curse. But all that changes when he meets his new cellmate.

Zynnera, a thief caught stealing food, is determined to help her people. After escaping from the palace dungeon with the former prince, she sets out to find the rebel camp...assuming it still exists. Together they forge a plan to defeat the wicked queen, but the longer Zynnera is away from home, the harder it is to hide her secret.

Will revealing the truth cost Zynnera everything she’s come to love, or will her secret be the key to saving Anaros from his curse and their people from the witch’s wrath?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brooke Losee
• Release date: Jan 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005220327

Brooke Losee

Brooke Losee is a geologist, wife, mother/maid of three, and author of the the series Chronicles of Virgàm. Her fiction novels dive into a realm of magic while exploring the strength of human nature. Brooke has always believed books provide us with an escape to new worlds and allow us to dream beyond our own reality. She has worked as a consultant for Usborne Books & More for the last four years and believes in encouraging children to develop a passion for reading while they are young. Brooke is currently working on her third title in the series, Origins of Virgàm .

Book preview

Chapter one

Listening to legends and folklore generally appealed to the youngest among us, but when the captain began a tale, everyone listened. As the prince, I probably had more important things to do, but I couldn't resist watching the children's reactions. One little boy leaned in closer as his excitement mounted, and though I’d likely heard the story a dozen times, my heart beat a little quicker.

Moonlight filtered down from the clouded sky onto the marbled stone of the balcony. No sound filled the warm air as we all waited in the intense silence. I leaned against the rough palace wall, watching a smile creep across the captain's face as he teased our anticipation for his story to begin. His eyes flicked to mine, and he winked, leaving me with no doubt this story would be a grand performance.

"Many years ago in a small village that rests at the bottom of the mountains of Aknar, there lived three sisters. But these were no ordinary sisters, for they were not the same as you or me. They wielded powers far beyond what any human has ever known—powers that granted them many gifts, including the gift of immortality. That is not to say that they could not die, but rather that they were free from the effects of time, unchanging with the passing moments. While each of them wielded strong magical energies, they also possessed unique skills they developed over many human lifetimes. The eldest sister, Larena, could channel her mind to match the frequency of time itself, allowing her glimpses into the future. Larena was perceptive, wise, and had much compassion for mankind. She believed deeply in using her gift to help humanity and encouraged her sisters to do the same. She often used her prophecies to guide the people of the village, preparing them for events both individually and as a community.

"Eradoma was an exceptional spell caster. She could project any spell with great force and power. Over the years, pillagers and invaders attacked the village, but under Eradoma’s protection, harm never befell the people. Fear of intruders who sought to destroy them was a far concern to the people of the village, for they believed her strength was unmatched by anyone or anything. Her gifts granted them a sense of safety and peace.

"The youngest sister was Sakara. Her soft, sweet nature enabled her to connect to the elements of the Earth and to every creature that dwelt upon it. She could control the air, water, and ground around her. Sakara could summon animals from the forest at the slightest command and restore a dying crop to a bountiful harvest. Though she had lived many hundreds of years, Sakara's youthfulness made her carefree in an almost childlike manner. Her smile was contagious, and the villagers loved her for her grace and kindness.

"The sisters grew to love the village and its people, spending decades with them and mourning the generations as they passed. As their devotion deepened, losing those they became close to grew into a heavy burden. Sensing the toll such an emotional investment might bring, Larena gathered her sisters so they could contrive a plan to ensure they never misused their powers. She proposed a vow that none of them use their magic to grant unto humanity their greatest gift—their gift of immortality. They all agreed it was not expedient that mankind should live forever, and their vow was cast.

"For decades, the sisters adhered to the vow they had made, despite the hardship the responsibility brought them. They leaned on one another for strength and visited the mounds of their deceased friends often. While they felt much sadness, there was also great happiness for the opportunity to know and be a part of so many lives. But just as nature changes with the blowing of a chilly autumn breeze, so does a heart when met with longing, desire, and despair. For no creature is immune to the perils of jealousy and anger, not even a witch.

 "It began just as the colored leaves descended from the trees and the once warm, heavy air grew cool. The villagers all bustled to bring in the new harvest before the first snowfall laid waste to a near frozen ground. The sisters, of course, offered their magic to help with the immense work, casting spells to assist in a variety of ways to soften the workload of the people. Eradoma’s powerful spell casting made an impressive display as she moved crops and equipment with what seemed like effortless ease. It was no surprise that such a display would catch the attention of many, including that of a man named Teragan.

"As the two spent days together harvesting and preparing for the upcoming winter, it became clear to the entire village that something far more than friendship was developing. One might think it strange, a human and a witch, but stripped of their magical powers, the sisters were no different than us. They were subject to the same emotions, the same desires, and the same longing to love and to be loved. And so it was with Teragan and Eradoma, love blooming in an abrupt and unsuspecting way. But as wonderful and beautiful as love is, she often comes with her own hardships and trials.

"Every year upon completion of the harvest, the entire village would gather in grand celebration. They would light an enormous bonfire in the center of the village, around which they would play music, dance, and feast on the most delicious foods. The Harvest Celebration was a time when all the villagers gave thanks for the blessings of another bounteous year of crop and for additional blessings they felt they received throughout the seasons. For Eradoma, there was nothing she could be more grateful for than Teragan. She knew in her heart she loved him and believed that he loved her as well. 

"But Eradoma knew there was a single matter impeding her happiness with Teragan. A life with him could be beyond anything she had ever hoped for, a life full of joy and love. But as life for Teragan would be forever maturing, Eradoma would remain the same, stagnant of all progression. What once seemed her greatest gift now filled her with the most agonizing misery. The thought of an immortal life, or any life for that matter, without the one she had come to love permeated her mind and filled her soul with the deepest pain. No, she could not bear the heartache of losing him nor the depression from remaining alone.

"As the celebration continued, Eradoma pulled Larena aside. She disclosed to her sister the deepest desires of her heart and the sadness that weighed on her soul. Larena reminded Eradoma of the vow they had made so many years ago, stating that the purpose of the vow was now divulging itself. Eradoma assured Larena she had no intention of betraying their oath. She desired the opposite—to surrender her own immortality and give up her life of continual youth for one that would eventually end in her own death. This sacrifice she would make in an act of love. This sacrifice she would live with in exchange for the love she could not live without. 

"She needed only one thing to place her plan into motion—the incantation required for the spell that would make her mortal. Because this spell was not one that any of the three sisters had previously used, Eradoma would need to seek the inscription of the enchantment in order to perform it. A book known as The Tahetya contained many spells known to sorcery, and as the eldest, their family had charged Larena with keeping it. Eradoma’s pleas pulled at Larena’s heart, for she knew that her sister’s love for Teragan was true. And while the idea of living without her sister precipitated sadness, Larena also felt a peace that comes from seeing those you love full of happiness.

"Larena and Eradoma returned to their home to retrieve The Tahetya. Larena pulled several dusty books from the bookshelf in the corner of the room. Once removed, a small wooden knob became visible. Larena pulled the knob to reveal a hidden compartment in the wall itself, wherein lay the book of spells. The Tahetya was bound in thick, brown leather with gold clasps to hinge the binding. Embedded in the cover were lines of pure silver ore that stretched to the edges. The center displayed four symbols, each designed in a different color, but the largest was an open eye, outlined in gold that shimmered when touched by the light.

"Larena placed the book on their wooden table and flipped through the pages to find the spell Eradoma desired. Once she had located it, Eradoma eagerly read the ancient text. Her excitement only grew as she finished, exclaiming it was a simple spell and one she could accomplish easily on her own. She thanked Larena and hugged her tightly, grateful her sister understood why she felt she must proceed.

 "As Eradoma left her home, she could barely contain her excitement. She could not wait to tell Teragan of her plan that would allow them a full and happy life together. Desiring to be with him when she performed the spell, she returned to the celebration to search for him. Unable to find him amongst the jubilating villagers, Eradoma proceeded to Teragan’s home. She could see light flickering from inside the stone cottage and upon approaching it could hear Teragan speaking from the dimly lit room. But his voice was not alone. There was another voice—one that Eradoma recognized.

"Eradoma drew closer, peering through the half-frosted window into the cottage. She saw Teragan, his burly figure casting a shadow from the lantern behind him onto a second smaller figure. Eradoma pressed closer, trying to make out the details in the shadows. Then, with one swift movement, the second appeared in the lantern light, hand in Teragan’s hand, and lips pressed to Teragan’s lips. Eradoma, body paralyzed with shock, watched as the man she loved kissed another.  

"Details once cloaked by darkness now became illuminated by the light of the lantern. Long blonde hair flowed beyond a flawless face and halfway down a slender body. A beautiful blue dress that matched her eyes to perfection hugged her body from shoulder to ankle. The woman smiled at Teragan, and Eradoma felt her soul grow cold, for not only had her heart been broken by the man she loved, but also by a sister she once trusted.

"Eradoma glared into the window, her breath visible in the cold air as her breathing quickened. Tears streamed from her eyes as the full reality of what she witnessed sank into her mind. She could not understand how two of the closest people in her life could betray her. How could someone shrug away such deep emotions as little more than a fleeting fling? Until this moment, she had planned to give up one of the greatest gifts she possessed, all for a man whose commitment swayed like a branch in a slight breeze. With this thought, Eradoma’s sorrow became replaced by an emotion far stronger than heartache—hatred.

"Without a second of hesitation, Eradoma burst open the cottage door and stormed into the room, vengeance glowing in her eyes. Sakara pleaded with Eradoma, accepting the blame upon herself. She begged for understanding and that Eradoma spare Teragan. But nothing could abate Eradoma’s fury. Just as the lantern had brought clarity to the shadowed details she saw through the window, the true nature of her relationship with Teragan came to light, and her mind burned with the idea of having meant nothing to the man she truly loved.

"A bright blue beam of magical energy raced from Eradoma’s palm straight for Teragan’s heart. But before the beam could reach him, Sakara intercepted it. When the spell dissipated, Sakara lay on the dirt floor of the cottage, cold and motionless. Fear swept across Teragan’s face as he realized not even her own sister’s death could cure Eradoma’s lust for revenge. 

"Another blue beam left a second lifeless body on the cottage floor. Eradoma’s face remained indifferent as she processed the scene before her. She understood full well the result of her actions but felt no remorse for its consequence. Her skin burned with anger as she turned to leave the cottage, only to be met by Larena, who waited in the doorway with tearful eyes. 

"Larena had seen everything, despite not being in the cottage as the events unfolded. Every gift has its downside. Larena’s had cursed her with knowledge of a horrific crime moments before it occurred—moments too short for any effort to thwart them. As Eradoma peered into her sister’s eyes, she knew Larena’s visions had revealed all that had happened and likely what was to follow. She knew she could no longer stay in the village after what she had done. The people would never trust her again, and yet, the thought did not bother Eradoma. For she, herself, had lost all trust in humankind, and where once her heart desired to help those around her, it now wanted only their destruction.

"Eradoma marched past Larena, departing into the darkness of the forest at the edge of the village. Word of Teragan’s and Sakara’s deaths spread like a wildfire amongst the villagers, and for the first time, they feared the very magic that once protected them. Larena divulged the event in all its detail, while Eradoma lived in exile within the deepest parts of the forest.

"While Larena’s vision of Sakara’s death had come too late to prevent it, a more haunting vision had followed. This vision exposed the true extent of Eradoma’s anger and newfound hatred for mankind. Larena saw that one day Eradoma would return to exact her vengeance, and she would not stop with just the village. So, she decided to devise a plan to stop her sister, for now she was all that stood between Eradoma's wrath and the complete destruction of humanity. She vowed to do everything in her power to protect the village and the people she loved. 

"Larena devoted hours to studying The Tahetya, knowing that Eradoma’s strength far outmatched her own. Her vision provided only a slight advantage, and her plan would need to be executed to perfection in order to stop her sister. When she felt she had gained all she could from the book of spells, Larena entrusted it to one family in the village, asking them to hide it should her plan to stall Eradoma fail. In Eradoma’s possession, The Tahetya would only be an instrument of destruction.

"Many seasons came and went while Larena waited for her vision to come to pass. At times, she allowed herself to hope that her insights of the future had been flawed; perhaps Eradoma’s lust for revenge had been satisfied. But as the warm spring air gave way to the smell of fresh, budding blooms, Larena could sense resounding unrest emanating from the forest. 

"The day began like any other, crisp and cool. Patches of dew glistened as the sun dismissed the shadowed landscape and took its place in the open sky. Larena worked in the fields with the villagers, planting another year of crops in the freshly turned soil. Without warning, an assemblage of dark clouds moved across the sky, blocking the warmth and light from the sun. The villagers suspected a large thunderstorm moved in from the coastline to the West, a routine occurrence for Spring, but Larena perceived more than foul weather lay ahead. The day of her vision had arrived.

"Knowing the danger of the events that were about to unfold, Larena ordered the villagers to return to their homes. The tone in her voice was enough to convince them, for she had disclosed her vision that they might act swiftly on her instruction when the time came. As the villagers ran to take shelter from the impending threat, Larena braced herself for what she knew would be the most difficult moments of her life.

"Without the sun’s warm rays, the air grew chilly, and dew formed into small crystals of ice. Dark figures gathered on the hilly countryside beyond the fields—an army of beasts awaiting command. The Tahetya spoke of a fearsome creature known as the Vlenargan, a monster with pale grey skin and horns that curved down from the top of its head like a ram. Their eyes were black and armored breastplates covered their muscular, humanlike bodies. They had incisive fangs, matched in ferocity only by the razor-sharp claws on their hands. It is said only magic could summon them from the depths of the earth, a magic that Eradoma had learned in her exile. She stood just in front of them, relishing in the fear created by her army’s presence. 

"With the wave of Eradoma’s hand, the Vlenargans raced down the hill and through the fields. Beams of magical energy emanated from Larena as she took out as many of the creatures as she could. Even with her magic, she could not eliminate the thousands of Vlenargans that seemed to multiply with each passing second. Many stormed past her, attacking the village. The people screamed and smoke bellowed into the sky as the cottages became engulfed in flames. The realization that she simply could not defend them pained Larena’s soul. She had but one last chance to save them.

"It was time to put her plan into motion. To save the people, she would have to fight not the Vlenargans, but Eradoma herself. In order for the Vlenargans to remain on the surface, they required someone to command them; therefore, stopping Eradoma would eliminate the threat of this monstrous army.

"Larena made her way towards her sister, who watched from the top of the hill. It was not without great difficulty that Larena reached the foothill and stared into the dark eyes of the being that was once her family. The sister she knew no longer existed, and only the essence of darkness, led by anger and vengeance, remained.

"Neither of the sisters spoke, pausing for a moment to assess the battle about to unfold between them. Larena relinquished the last grain of hope she had of freeing her sister from the evil that controlled her. She prepared to face her not as someone who once held a place in her heart, but as an enemy that now threatened the world. 

"A light mist encompassed the entire area around the hill, residue of the magical duel taking place within. Enhanced with the knowledge she had gained during her exile, Eradoma’s spells overwhelmed her sister. Larena quickly became fatigued as Eradoma continued the onslaught with no signs of recession. She knew one spell that would fulfill her vision and save the people, even if only for a short time. However, it required absolute precision, and Larena was uncertain she could hold her ground long enough to execute it.

"Blue light radiated in all directions as Larena struggled to defend with her own shield of dark purple light. As her body neared exhaustion, she collapsed to her knees, still fighting to protect herself. The moment she had foreseen presented itself. Eradoma suspended her spells to look once more into her sister’s eyes. In that small moment, Larena mustered every bit of magical energy she could collect and produced the spell that would end Eradoma’s crusade against mankind. 

"Eradoma became encircled by Larena’s purple aura. She screamed as her flesh dematerialized and her humanlike form disappeared to nothing more than a light blue dust, suspended in the cool air. Larena continued the spell, condensing the dust into a small glowing orb of light. Struggling to contain Eradoma in this new form, Larena forced the orb into the tree line just beyond the hill where a large, grey stone stood amongst the pines. She pressed the orb against the stone until it faded, seeping into the rock itself. Once it had completely disappeared, Larena’s body fell to the ground, unconscious and entirely drained of energy. Upon the stone, the same open eye printed on the cover of The Tahetya appeared. Eradoma’s soul was now imprisoned within.

"With Eradoma now sealed within the stone, the army of Vlenargans disappeared. The villagers carried Larena back to her cottage where she could rest and continued to care for her until she had regained much of her strength. The battle took its toll on Larena, and while she recovered physically, the fight severely diminished her magical energy. 

Time marched on as it was designed to do, and the villagers gave thanks to the witch—the friend—who had risked everything in order to protect them. But to anyone who dares venture to the edge of the forest beyond the hill, take heed. For the soul of Eradoma still lies within the stone, waiting for her time of freedom, that she might once again implement her plan to destroy mankind.

Chapter two

Adeafening silence filled the balcony, while only the soft chirping of crickets echoed from the grassy lawn below. I smiled as I watched eight small heads moving from side to side, undoubtedly wondering who would speak the first word and break the quiet ambience the captain's story had created.

That was amazing! shouted one little boy when he could no longer cope with the silence.

Thank you, said Captain Torilus. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Finally feeling bold, the children all bombarded the man with questions. I chuckled, remembering the first time I had heard this story as a nine-year-old. The captain had entertained my questions for hours.   

Is the evil witch still locked inside the stone? asked one child.

What happened to Larena? asked another.

A quiet, shaky voice whispered from the corner. What's going to happen if she gets out? A small, brown-haired girl shivered with fear near the balcony wall. The others grew quiet, as if hoping the captain would answer this question above all others.

Captain Torilus kneeled beside the girl. Well, I suppose if she ever escaped, she would continue where she left off. The girl looked down at the ground, disappointment furrowing her forehead. The captain’s face remained soft with understanding as he continued his answer. But, where there is great evil, there is also great good, and I truly believe good will always conquer darkness, don’t you?

The girl smiled.

Good, he said, grinning back at her. Now, I do believe night is upon us. Meaning—it’s time for all of you to go to bed. The last thing I want is the wrath of your parents bearing down on me. Off to bed with all of you! Off to bed!

The children rose and left the balcony, chattering and recanting the details of the story they had just heard. Most of them were sons and daughters of servants who lived on the palace grounds and part of a group the captain’s daughter tended during the day.

Captain Torilus turned to face the dark, coniferous forest just beyond the palace, his white hair and beard illuminated by the light of the moon as it hung above the trees. He appeared deep in thought as I approached him. 

Your stories get better every time you tell them, I said with a hint of tease in my tone.

Well, Anaros, I suppose I've had a lot of practice. Keeping you entertained as a child was no simple task, now was it?

No, I suppose not. I could recall the captain telling me stories for as far back as I could remember. Daring sword fights, adventures into the unknown, evil witches—he had a gift for telling the most phenomenal stories. You would never suspect a man so great in battle and agile with a sword could cut just as easily with his words.

As I looked into his deep blue eyes, memories of the years he spent training me swept across my mind. Captain Torilus was the swordmaster of our army, and his skill with a blade far surpassed anyone I knew. I considered him family, like a second father who always guided me with wisdom and compassion.

The captain’s gaze had returned to the forest. I wondered what could be on his mind. I studied his face, trying to assess what his wrinkled lines conveyed, but loud shouting interrupted me.  

Stop! The shout echoed from just inside the door to the Great Hall. Stop! I'm sorry!

Rhemues backed against the wall, ducking every few moments as Hachseeva swung a broom at him. He covered his face with his hand to block his attacker’s advances, but every few swipes, the broom would whack him on the head or side, to which he responded with a groan. Then he would dare a glance at her, his eyes pleading for mercy. I won’t do it again! 

"That is what you said yesterday, she said as she took another swing with her domestic weapon of choice. And I don't believe you are sorry, but you might be once I'm through with you!" Another hard whack smacked his side.

Prince! Rhemues shouted when he noticed me watching from the balcony. Help!

I walked slowly, giving Hachseeva time for a few more blows before I reached them. I didn't know what Rhemues had done, but I was certain he deserved the punishment that befell him.

Something wrong? I asked, holding back a laugh. Hachseeva had stopped swinging for the moment, breathing hard as her glare at Rhemues dared him to speak anything but the truth. He looked from me to her, then back again with horror-struck eyes.

I was only a bit hungry… he started, swiping his disheveled blond hair back into position.

"A bit?" Hachseeva raised the broom again, ready to strike.

I held up my hand to stop her. Let’s calm down. Hachseeva closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I needed to use caution or she might whack me, too. Good, now what happened? 

Rhemues held up one finger, about to speak, but Hachseeva quickly cut him off. "He stole three cakes from the kitchen! Cakes the king requested for tomorrow's banquet. Cakes he promptly ate in their entirety!" Rhemues shrank down the wall a little.

Three? I questioned, unable to fathom anyone eating so much sugar in one sitting. That's an awful lot of cake.

Rhemues shrugged. He looked at Hachseeva and gulped. I can't help it. If you weren't so good at baking delicious cakes, I wouldn't desire to steal them.

He gave her a crooked smile. Hachseeva blinked at him as if she were unsure whether she should be angry or flattered by his comment. He might make it out of this alive.

Now, you should get back in there and make some more cakes, he finished.

I closed my eyes and shook my head.