Chapter 216 - Followers

Vell watched as Sonder left the cottage, a look of melancholy clinging to her face. 

The other witches had stayed until now, their murmurs buzzing around him like restless insects. He wondered what Targe had told them. Why were they lingering? They were free to leave—the forest wouldn't stop them. Yet, they remained.

After a while, he stopped paying them any mind.

"Did you see it?" Vell asked, turning to Sonder. 

"See what?" she replied.

"I guess that's a no, then." He glanced back toward the cottage. "The old woman in there—that's not what Targe really looks like. She's ageless. There are ways to stop time, and she knows them all. I don't know why she chooses to appear so old, but when she looks far into the future, or at someone destined for great power, her form wavers. For a moment, she returns to how she truly is."

Sonder considered this, but her answer was unhelpful. "I don't know."

Vell sighed, his gaze drifting to the dark treetops beyond.

The other witches were still whispering, glancing at him, hesitant but unwilling to voice their questions. He ignored them.

Sonder, however, wasn't finished. "What does she actually look like?"

Vell tilted his head, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh, she's beautiful," he said at last. "And I don't think she just makes herself look older—I think she makes herself look uglier, too."

Sonder frowned. "Why would she do that?"

Vell gave a small shrug. "Only she knows. Maybe she just enjoys seeing people underestimate her." He smirked slightly. "Or maybe she's tired of being looked at."

The green witch finally spoke, arms crossed. "So what now?"

Vell rolled his shoulders, his posture relaxed. "That's up to you."

"Up to us?" Another witch, echoed.

Vell looked at them, then up at the sky, as if the stars might offer him patience. "You're free to leave. The forest won't stop you."

Some of them exchanged uneasy glances.

"You didn't tell him?" Sonder asked.

"Tell me what?" Vell's gaze snapped back to her.

Now she was the one exchanging looks with the witches.

The green witch spoke after a pause. "The old woman told us that you'd point us toward power."

Vell stiffened. "She did what?"

He considered marching back to the cottage and having stern words with the old witch. But he reconsidered. No point in arguing with Targe. 

Still, he muttered, "Who does she think she is, offloading you onto me?"

"So? Was she wrong?" the green witch demanded. 

His eyes narrowed. "It's not about being wrong. It's about making decisions for me that I never agreed to."

"What are we supposed to do?"

"Whatever you want."

"That's not an answer."

Vell let out a slow breath.

He turned back toward the forest. "Fine. I'll think of something. Somewhere you can learn. Follow if you want. Or don't. It's your choice."

Then he started walking.

The witches hesitated, looking to each other for support. 

Sonder didn't. She moved after him. The green witch followed, and one by one, the others fell in line.

Vell could hear their footsteps behind him. He sighed.

"That sneaky woman," he muttered.

Sonder smiled a bright smile. "If they bother you so much, why don't you tell them to leave?"

Vell didn't answer. He just kept walking but was less annoyed.