"You kicked it too hard!"

  Felix brushed a hand through his hair, his fingers catching in the mess of sweat - dampened strands. He huffed, scanning the undergrowth with narrowed eyes.

  "No, I didn't! You just weren’t fast enough to catch it!"

  "I didn’t even see who kicked it last! Maybe it was you, Felix!

  Felix clenched his jaw. Typical. The blame always bounced around, never landing where it should.

  "Oh, come on! Stop arguing and help look for it!"

  "I told you we shouldn’t have played so close to the trees…"

  The boys moved about, searching through the grass, peering under bushes, and kicking aside fallen leaves. Their game, once full of laughter, had stopped the moment their ball vanished. Felix still felt the sting in his foot from kicking earlier - but had it been the last kick? He wasn’t sure anymore.

  The sun was high up, making everything warm and bright. The trees stood tall around them, their thick trunks rough and knotted. Leaves rustled as a breeze passed through, making shadows dance on the ground. Birds chirped somewhere above, their songs mixing with the sound of the boys moving through the undergrowth. Felix paused for a moment, listening to the quiet hum of nature. It felt different now that the game had stopped - almost like the forest was watching them.

  Beyond the trees, the field where they had been playing stretched out, golden and swaying with the wind. In the distance, just past a small hill, their village sat quiet, its rooftops barely visible. It looked far away now, but Felix knew they’d be back there soon - hopefully before anyone realized they had been gone too long.

  "It’s got to be here somewhere!"

  "Unless a fox took it!"

  The search carried on for a while, the boys muttering complaints as they pushed aside bushes and shuffled through fallen leaves. Felix felt the heat prickling against the back of his neck, and his patience was wearing thin.

  "Found it!" Nilo’s voice rang out, triumphant.

  The boys turned to see him crouched near the base of a tree, half - hidden behind a tangle of roots. He pulled the ball free from where it had nestled in a shallow dip, brushing off a few stray leaves before holding it up for them to see.

  Felix let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. "Finally!"

  Tovi grinned. "Took us long enough."

  "Let’s get back to playing before we lose it again," Rudi said, already jogging toward the open field.

  With renewed energy, the boys dashed after him, the ball soaring into the air once more.

  Felix sprinted after the ball, determined not to lose it again. The game carried on with the same energy as before, laughter echoing through the trees. He felt the rush of the chase, the thrill of kicking the ball as hard as he could. But then, just as he was about to make another play, his foot caught on an exposed root.

  He barely had time to react before he tumbled forward, landing hard on the ground. A sharp sting burned through his knee. He gasped, then pushed himself up slowly, wincing as he saw the scrape. Blood trickled down his leg in thin streaks, and the pain grew worse with every passing second. His lip trembled, and a lump formed in his throat.

  "Felix?" Tovi’s voice was cautious as the boys gathered around him.

  Felix sniffled, blinking rapidly as his eyes welled up. He tried to be tough, but it hurt more than he expected. He wanted to say something, to tell them he was fine, but before he could, a soft voice interrupted.

  "Are you hurt?"

  The boys spun around. A woman stood just a few feet away. She wasn’t old, nor was she dressed in anything unusual, but none of them had ever seen her before. Her presence felt strange, out of place, as if she had appeared out of nowhere. She stepped closer, her gaze fixed on Felix’s injured knee.

  "Let me see your knee," she said gently.

  Felix hesitated, still sniffling, but before he could respond, Tovi shoved himself between them.

  "Stay away from him!" Tovi shouted.

  "Yeah!" Nilo added. "Who even are you?"

  Rudi pointed at her accusingly. "I know her! She lives in the forest! What if she's a witch? I bet she wants to poison Felix!"

  “A witch?! We must run! She’s gonna eat us!”

  The air shifted. Felix's heart pounded. He could feel the tension crackling between them, his own fear mixing with the panic of the others.

  “What about Felix? He is injured!”

  “Forget about him! Everyone for themselves!”

  Then, without another word, the boys turned and bolted toward the village, screaming for help. Felix wanted to move, to speak, but terror left him frozen in place, his breath caught in his throat.

  The woman, however, showed no sign that she had heard the boys’ accusations. Her attention remained entirely on Felix’s wound. She knelt beside him and examined the scrape, her expression calm and reassuring.

  "It’s not serious," she said, her voice warm and soothing. "I live nearby. I can treat it there."

  Felix remained silent, too scared to move, too frightened to answer. His limbs felt like stone, his breath shallow and quick.

  Then, gently, the woman wrapped her arms around him and lifted him with surprising ease. He stiffened at first but couldn’t bring himself to resist. As she carried him through the trees, his mind raced with wild thoughts.

  “What will happen to me? Is she really a witch? Will she poison me? Will she eat me? Oh, Light, save me!”

  But no matter how much his mind screamed, his body refused to struggle.

  They arrived at her house, a modest wooden cabin nestled between the trees. The woman gently set Felix down on a soft bed, the scent of dried herbs filling the air around him. He sat stiffly, his heart still pounding as he watched her move across the room.

  She began preparing something, crushing unknown herbs together with practiced hands. Felix watched in silence, fear gripping his chest as she worked. His mind was still racing, his thoughts wild with uncertainty.

  Then, carrying a small bowl of the paste she had made, the woman approached him. She reached for his injured leg, but before touching it, she paused. Her eyes flickered to his face, noticing the way he shivered in fear.

  "Do not worry, child. I will not harm you, for I am no witch."

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  "Th - th - then who are you?" Felix managed to stutter out.

  "I am just a woman who lives in solitude by the woods."

  "D - Do you not have a family?" Felix asked, his voice still unsteady, though he was beginning to calm down.

  A fleeting sadness crossed her face, but it vanished just as quickly.

  "I - I didn’t mean to be ru.."

  "They are all gone, taken from me long ago."

  "I am sorry to hear that."

  "Do not be. A kind child like you bears no blame for the misfortunes of this world. Now show me your leg."

  Felix hesitated, then slowly extended his leg toward her. The woman dipped her fingers into the cool, herbal paste and carefully applied it to his wound. A sharp chill spread across his skin, and he shivered briefly at the unexpected sensation. The paste carried a faint, earthy scent, and though the initial cold startled him, it quickly soothed the sting of his injury.

  "Does it hurt?" she asked, her voice gentle, as she observed his reaction closely.

  "No, it is just a bit cold, but it feels very nice."

  She then took a clean piece of cloth and carefully wrapped it around his wound, securing it in place. Once finished, she smiled warmly at him.

  "You are all set."

  Felix looked up at her, curiosity now creeping in where fear had been moments before. "How do you know so much about treating wounds?"

  "A woman should be able to take care of herself."

  "Our minister teaches us that any woman who possesses knowledge is a witch," Felix said hesitantly.

  "Are you speaking of Minister Aldric?" she asked, her tone unreadable. "His teachings are corrupted. He is consumed by greed and dreams of power and glory. Yet I believe that every child of the Light should have the freedom to explore the wonders of its creation. Would you not agree?”

  Felix felt a stir of confusion. He had never once considered questioning the teachings of the minister. His whole life, he had been taught that the minister’s words were the very will of the Light itself."

  "What is your name, child?" the woman asked.

  "Felix. Short for Felician."

  "Felician. A noble name indeed. You carry great potential, Felix, and I have no doubt you are meant for something greater."

  "What is your name?" Felix asked.

  "My name matters not. It is about time you head home. Come, I will show you out of the forest."

  She led Felix through the dense woodland, her steps sure and steady as he followed hesitantly behind. As they walked, they passed the open field where the boys had played earlier. The grass was still flattened in places where they had tumbled, and the ball lay abandoned where it had been left in the commotion. Felix glanced at it, a strange sense of detachment washing over him - only hours ago, his biggest worry had been losing the ball.

  The towering trees gradually thinned, allowing beams of golden sunlight to spill onto the forest floor. The rustling leaves and distant chirping of birds faded into the background as the outline of the village came into view. The thatched rooftops and stone walls stood quietly beyond the rolling fields, a familiar sight that sent a wave of relief through Felix’s chest. The village, once feeling so far away, now beckoned like a safe haven after a strange and uncertain encounter.

  "This is where we part, child," she said.

  "I do not know how to repay you for your help," he answered.

  "And you need not. I am always happy to help a kind boy like you," she said with a gentle smile. "I wish you well, Felix, but do not seek me out in the woods again - you may find yourself in trouble."

  She then turned around and disappeared into the dense wall of trees, her figure fading into the shadows as if the forest itself had swallowed her whole.

  Felix lingered for a moment, staring into the woods, half - expecting her to reappear. But the trees stood silent, indifferent to his thoughts. With a deep breath, he turned and made his way toward the village.

  He avoided the main roads, slipping through narrow side paths and shadowed alleys. The village was quiet, the warm glow of lanterns flickering behind shuttered windows. He moved carefully, his heart pounding each time a distant voice or the sound of footsteps reached his ears. He could not risk being seen - not after everything that had happened.

  Reaching his home, he crept through the small back garden, stepping lightly over the damp earth. The scent of herbs and freshly tilled soil filled the air, a familiar comfort amidst the night's tension. He reached the back door, fingers brushing against the worn wood. Slowly, he pushed it open, the hinges letting out the faintest creak.

  Felix slipped inside, exhaling softly as he pressed the door shut behind him.

  The house was still. He had made it back unnoticed. But as he stood there, his mind raced with everything that had transpired. The woman, her words, the strange sense of warmth in her presence - none of it made sense. And yet, deep inside, he knew that this night had changed something within him forever.

  To his greatest surprise, the door to the next room swung open, and his mother stepped in, deep worry etched across her face.

  "In the name of the Light, Felix, where have you been? We were worried sick about you! Your friends came running here, shouting that you had encountered a witch in the woods! Is it true? Did she catch you? Did she harm you?"

  Her gaze suddenly dropped to his leg, and upon noticing the bandage, her face turned pale. A sharp gasp escaped her lips. "Felix! She has poisoned you! We must take you to the Minister at once!"

  "Mother, wait!" Felix tried to explain, shaking his head, but she wouldn’t listen. Panic consumed her as she grabbed him by the wrist, her grip firm and unyielding.

  Without another word, she pulled him along, dragging him through the dimly lit village streets. The cobbled paths were uneven beneath his feet, the cool night air carrying the scent of burning wood and damp earth. Street lamps flickered faintly, casting long, shifting shadows against the stone and timber houses that lined the narrow roads. Few villagers still lingered outside, their hushed voices drifting through the quiet night as they turned to watch the hurried pair pass by.

  They approached the church, its towering spire looming over the village like a silent sentinel. The wooden doors stood heavy and foreboding, the carvings of holy symbols worn smooth by time and prayer. His mother wasted no time, shoving them open with urgency, her steps echoing against the cold stone floor as she dragged Felix inside.

  The dim candlelight illuminated the vast interior of the church, casting flickering patterns against the high - arched ceilings. Wooden pews stretched toward the altar, the air thick with the scent of old parchment, melted wax, and incense. Felix’s heart pounded as they passed beneath the towering stained - glass windows, the colored light casting eerie patterns upon the floor.

  At the far end of the hall, a set of heavy doors led to the Minister’s chambers. His mother marched straight toward them, her grip tightening as if she feared he might slip away. She knocked firmly, the sound reverberating through the quiet space.

  A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing a grand study filled with books, scrolls, and flickering candlelight. Minister Aldric sat behind a massive oak desk, his sharp eyes scanning a letter in his hand. He was an imposing figure, draped in rich robes of deep crimson, his silvered beard neatly trimmed. The candlelight cast shifting shadows across his lined face as he slowly lifted his gaze from the parchment, settling his cold, calculating eyes upon them.

  "Is there a problem, Evelyne?" he asked, his voice calm yet commanding.

  "A witch has poisoned my son!" Evelyne cried, her voice trembling with fear and urgency.

  "A witch, you say? Let me see."

  The minister leaned forward, his sharp eyes narrowing as he gestured for Felix to step closer. Without hesitation, he grabbed the boy’s leg, his fingers pressing against the bandaged wound. He studied it for a moment, his expression unreadable.

  "It certainly seems like a devilish work," he murmured, his voice thick with suspicion.

  "It is not!" Felix protested. "It is a cure for my wound!"

  The magister let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "Foolish child. The witch has deceived you. She spun her lies to earn your trust, only to strike when you least expect it. Witches prey upon the vulnerable, and an innocent boy like you is the perfect prey. I fear the poison may have already seeped into his blood. If we do not act swiftly, it could spread further and take his life - we must act at once.”

  Felix's heart filled with fear. "You cannot cut my leg! I will be crippled for life!"

  "There is no other choice, I'm afraid," the magister answered solemnly.

  He turned to the side and clapped his hands once. Almost immediately, the heavy doors of his office swung open, and several armored men stepped inside. Their golden eyes gleamed with an eerie light, their faces set in cold, unfeeling expressions as though chiseled from stone. They wore polished plate armor that shimmered under the dim candlelight, their flowing cloaks fastened with sigils bearing the sacred mark of the Light. Their towering forms exuded strength, their muscular frames giving them an imposing, almost unnatural presence.

  "Go into the forest and bring the witch to me," the magister ordered. "She will answer for her crimes."

  Felix's heart pounded in his chest. "No! You don't understand! She did nothing wrong!"

  But before he could protest further, his mother and the minister seized him by the arms and dragged him toward an adjoining room. The air inside was thick with the scent of dried herbs and something metallic - blood. It was a chamber of healing, though its cold, sterile stone walls made it feel more like a place of grim procedures. Wooden shelves lined the walls, filled with glass bottles of potions, scalpels, and linens stained from past operations. A single iron table stood in the center, its surface smooth and chilling to the touch.

  "Lay him down," the minister commanded, his voice devoid of emotion.

  Felix struggled, twisting and kicking, but his mother and the magister forced him onto the table, pinning him down.

  "Bring the juice of the poppy," the minister called out to his assistant. A young cleric rushed from the corner of the room, carrying a small vial of dark liquid.

  Felix thrashed, his breath quickening. "No! Stop! I don't want it!"

  But the minister's grip was like iron. He pried Felix’s mouth open and poured the bitter liquid down his throat. The taste was foul, burning slightly as it slid down. Felix coughed, gasping for air, but his vision was already beginning to blur. And the world around him slumbered into darkness.