HECTOR BAYES

I narrowed my eyes at the witch that had stabbed me in the back, the garb-clothed coffee-brown of her form blurring slightly in the fog that had begun to cloud my vision.

“You will pay for this betrayal Jules, in your blood,” I hissed to myself, seeing the faint shape of her full lips opening and closing, her eyes popping open animatedly before I dug my feet into the soil and pushed forward, trying to ignore the stab of pain in my upper chest as I flew towards the woman.

Ma Jules had not expected my attack, because the midnight black of her eyes widened dramatically as a...