Vildexa by Vakkerike

Deep within the woods of Morskog in the land of Vakkerike, there lived a witch named Vildexa. She had long black curly hair, light olive tinted skin, dark brown eyes, and a beautiful face. In winter she wore black leather boots and a long black cloak with a hood that nearly obscured her entire face; in summer her feet were always bare and she wore a short-sleeved forest-green dress. She lived alone in the deepest and darkest part of the woods in an old stone cottage that was covered with moss, and spent her days studying plants, talking to animals, and practicing her magic. She never left the woods, neither did she have any visitors, and that was just how Vildexa liked it.

Very few traveled through the Morskog forest, and fewer still were those who had seen her there. This, of course, sparked nonstop rumors among the people of Vakkerike. Some said she could make children sleepwalk to her cottage where she would eat them, and then build a fence around her house with their bones. Others said she could sneak into young maidens’ bedrooms and tempt them into doing unnatural acts with her. There were still others, however, who claimed that since there was no evidence supporting any of the claims, she was probably just some odd woman who wanted to live her life in peace. That was a very unpopular opinion among the people of Vakkerike, for facts do not provide the kind of entertainment that the imagination can conjure.

Vildexa didn’t always live in the woods, though; she was originally from the village of Hyglig. It was a small and quiet village, the kind where everyone knew each other, or at least knew of each other. A deep reverence for and fear of God hovered above Hyglig like a black cloud ready to rain fire and brimstone on the village. On Sundays, families would go to church in the morning and feast together in the afternoon, while the rest of the week saw the men toil in the fields and the women making sure the home was always clean and the children always fed. The people of Hyglig were simple folk firmly set in their ways, and were happy to keep things the way they were. Change wasn’t so much of the devil, but was still seen as highly suspicious.

Everyone in Hyglig knew Vildexa was a witch, but since she never caused any trouble, the villagers at least tolerated her. While not completely forbidden by law at the time, magic was still taboo among good godly folks and was highly discouraged by the Church. Nevertheless, Vildexa spent most of her days in her house making healing potions that she sold to neighbors in need of medicine (although most of the transactions were done in secret). On market days, she said hello to all of the merchants in the square while she bought her weekly supplies, and thanked them all for their work. She was also often found at the local tavern chatting with friends over a tankard of mead. She never bothered anyone, so the villagers never bothered her.

That is until King Malvagio took the throne. Oh, he was an evil king! He neither cared for the needs of his fellow men, nor even regarded his fellow men as such. People only served one purpose to Malvagio, and that was to worship him as a god. Why shouldn’t they? He was, after all, part of a great lineage of powerful kings, so it was only right to be revered as someone who had by birth transcended the human race and became a god among men. To be feared was better than to be loved, and he made sure the people knew that by throwing his most vocal critics into the dungeon. He ruled with such an iron fist, it was a miracle anyone could still breathe within his tight grip. The strangest part of all was that most of the people throughout Vakkerike welcomed him, for they often struggled to make ends meet, and he promised them they would never hunger ever again under his rule. Not that Malvagio had any intention to feed his people, of course; all he needed to do was make the people believe they would finally receive their daily bread, and they would be pleased.

Though Malvagio was hardly a pious man–he would have been considered an atheist if he didn’t believe himself to be a god–he knew that one of the best ways to retain power was to align with the Church, and if the Church believed that all forms of sorcery and witchcraft were of the devil, then so did Malvagio. Which is why as soon as the crown was placed upon his head, Malvagio issued a decree outlawing the practice of magic. Anyone caught reciting even two words of a spell would be thrown into the dungeon, tortured, and, unless they repented publicly, eventually executed. While many people thought it was a bit extreme, nevertheless it was a price they were willing to pay if it meant a prosperous future.

The next day was market day, so Vildexa left her house that morning to make her usual trip to the market square. But this time, everything was different. Men glared at her with evil looks. Women held their children closer to their sides as they passed Vildexa. “Surely these people haven’t turned against me so quickly,” she thought. “They know me. They know I never mean any harm. Surely they can see how silly the King’s decree is, and will choose to protect me, right?”

She got her answer a few minutes later when five young men came up to her. “Where do you think you’re going?” asked one of them with an evil grin.

“None of your business,” said Vildexa.

“I’ll make it my business,” the young man said. “Especially when it comes to witches like you. You’re probably on your way to turn someone into a frog.”

“Please, leave me alone.”

The young men surrounded her; she couldn’t escape. Their leader’s face was just an inch away from her’s. His eyes were filled with violence and hatred. “Didn’t you hear what King Malvagio said yesterday? Your kind isn’t welcomed here anymore, and we’ll make sure you remember that. In fact, how about we teach her a lesson right now, boys? Grab her!”

But before anyone could lay a finger on her, Vildexa screamed, “Enough!” and threw the boys across the street with her magic. Everyone on the street stared wide-eyed at her.

“She attacked us,” the young men shouted. “We weren’t doing anything. We were just minding our own business, and this witch attacked us.” The crowd began to shout and run towards her. Vildexa didn’t know what to do. She could try to explain herself, but it didn’t look like anyone wanted to hear her side of the story. She could magically push everyone back like she did with the young men, but that would only be more evidence against her.

Finally, when the crowd was just about to grab her, she remembered an invisibility spell she had tried a few times before. She took her wand out of her bag, twirled it around, and with a magic word or two, suddenly disappeared right before everyone’s eyes. While the villagers were looking around to see where she was, Vildexa ran as fast as she could. The world blurred around her as she ran, and before she knew it she had run out of Hyglig straight into the woods of Morskog.

When she realized no one had followed her, she said the magic word to become visible again. Exhausted by everything that had just happened, Vildexa sat down against a tree and cried. Although she always knew something like this might happen someday, she never believed it actually would. Everyone she knew had turned against her, and she didn’t have a single friend left. She had become the monster everyone secretly thought she was. For the first time in her life, she felt no connection to the world, and that she was truly alone.

Just then she heard what sounded like a wailing animal. She got up and followed the sound until she saw a wolf whose left back leg was caught in a bear trap, surrounded by three hunters she recognized from Hyglig. Feeling both pity for the creature and anger towards her neighbors, she threw the hunters out of the forest with her magic wand, freed the wolf, and tended to its leg with her healing potion.

“Oh, thank you so much,” said the wolf. “I am forever indebted to you.”

“It’s nothing,” replied Vildexa.

“No,” protested the wolf, “I insist. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I was recently chased out of my village for being a witch, so I’ll need a place to sleep.”

“That will not be a problem. There’s plenty of room in my den for you. Come follow me. Oh, and my name is Lealo.”

So Vildexa followed Lealo the wolf to his den. Along the way, however, they saw an eagle whose right wing was broken. Once again feeling pity for the poor bird, she pulled out her healing ointment and applied it to the wing, which also instantly healed.

“Oh, thank you so much,” said the eagle. “I am forever indebted to you.”

“It’s nothing,” said Vildexa.

“No,” protested the eagle. “I insist. Is there anything you need?”

“Well, I was recently chased out of my village for being a witch, so I’ll need to be sure no one is following me.”

“That will not be a problem. I will keep an eye on your village and warn you if trouble is coming. Which way is your village?”

So Vildexa told the eagle–whose name was Vigilia–where Hyglig was and the eagle flew in that direction. By sunset, she was settled inside a cave where the wolf’s pack lived and ate supper with them (although she did have to cook her meat first). Then the wolves gathered together some straw to make a bed for her, and they all went to sleep.

That night in Hyglig, the townspeople were gathered in the tavern to discuss everything that had happened that day and what to do next when the three hunters ran inside. “Vildexa has attacked us,” they said, trying to catch their breaths. “We were in Morskog hunting when she threw us out of the forest with her magic. She is still there now.”

That settled it: Hyglig would send a group of men into Morskog that night to take care of their witch problem once and for all. The five young men Vildexa encountered earlier that day volunteered, for they were still sore from that morning in the market square. They armed themselves with bows, arrows, axes, and swords, and followed the hunters into the woods.

Vigilia was perched on the roof of the tavern the whole time and heard everything. She quickly flew to Lealo’s den to warn Vildexa. “Wake up,” Vigilia said when she arrived. “Your townspeople are on their way!”

“Oh no,” cried Vildexa. “What am I going to do? I don’t know if I can fight off that many men.”

“Fear not,” said Lealo. “Vigilia and I swore to protect you, and we creatures of the forest always keep our word. Listen, I have a plan.” Vigilia, Vildexa, and the wolves all huddled together to hear Lealo’s plan. Everyone knew what to do.

The men from Hyglig entered the forest with torches blazing. They looked for any footprint or torn fabric they could find to track Vildexa. Suddenly a voice boomed around them. “I have been nothing but kind to you people all my life,” said the voice, “and this is how you treat me?” It was Vildexa. The men waved their torches and weapons around them to see where she was, but she was nowhere to be found, even though her voice made it sound like she was nearby.

“I’ve been courteous to you in the market square, sold healing potions to your wives, fraternized with you in the tavern, and smiled at your children. Now you attack me and treat me as a monster? Never again shall I be of any service to mankind. Never again shall you see my face. And never again shall you see your families!”

Before anyone knew it, a flock of eagles, led by Vigilia, quickly swooped down from the sky and snatched all the men’s weapons and torches, leaving them alone and vulnerable in the dark. They turned to run back towards Hyglig, but immediately stood face to face with Lealo and his pack. They growled, snarled, and licked their lips as they surrounded the men and inched closer to them. Finally with a howl from Lealo, the wolves leaped onto the men.

The next morning, wives and children woke to find their husbands and fathers did not return home to Hyglig. A small search party went into Morskog to find their neighbors. What they found were bloodied torn fragments of the men’s clothes hanging from branches. On one tree was a message written in blood: “Turn back, or you’re next.” Nobody from Hyglig has dared to venture into Morskog since then.

Vildexa eventually moved out of Lealo’s den and, with the help of several animal friends, made herself a stone cottage where she lived a peaceful life far away from mankind. Stories about her last encounter with men spread quickly throughout Vakkerike, and she became a legend among the people. Mothers warned their children not to play Morskog, hunters refused to hunt there, and travelers found alternate routes when their trails led them there. Vildexa knew of her status as the Wicked Witch of Morskog, and she embraced it. She found peace in her newly acquired villain status.

King Malvagio, however, was not intimidated. “She’s smart,” he thought to himself upon hearing what had happened in Morskog, “but I’m smarter. I’m developing a concept of a plan right now. This isn’t over yet.” Indeed, this story is just beginning, but that’s for another time.

Dungeon synth project of Tris Mamone (they/them) chronicling the tales from the land of Vakkerike.

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