This is the story of Witch Maiden. She had to adopt this name as she never new who her parents were.
Life was hard for her, as she was born with no arms.
So, to avoid being frowned upon by the world, Witch covered up with a thick, warm trench coat that she found in a shop near where her makeshift hobble resided (the alleys of the markets). Luckily, she was given a great amount of money by a lovely lady who introduced herself as Fiona Waiting, who Witch never saw again. She spent the money on the trench coat and a box of fruit to satisfy her extreme hunger.
She was left alone until the age of 15 when she was found and adopted by a mansion owner with the name of Goula Pottersnatch. A big man with a big heart, who always wore a ravishing cape and a dark brown fedora on his daily walks.
Goula vowed to Witch that he would never harm her for as long as he lived.
Witch often loved to explore the dark mansion in which, was her home for years and years. Goula had a big collection of vintage flower pots. But they were hard to see due to the lighting of the mansion (which was always very dimly lit.)
Every night, Goula and Witch would happily feast on roasted pig, goose, cow, bat, or some of Witch’s favourite, snails. They would laugh and fill the castle with the light it’d never had before. They would tell stories about their days (although, Goula would always have the most exciting stories as he was the only one to leave the castle-like mansion), and Witch would always ask questions about the outside of the mansion. What lies in the woods? What are some of the flora and fauna of the area? Is where you are going safe? (But Goula would always wave off that one.)
The next year, Goula was killed by a wolf.
He went outside the mansion walls to collect berries from his secret berry area that lay hidden in a cave, but there was a deadly Carnane wolf feasting on the berries instead of the happy family of two, which would soon be one.
The doctors said that he fought hard, as he left the Carnane wolf with many baffling scars.
The Carnane wolves had barks, growls and screams that could shatter windows. They would use that as their weapon and then feast on their enemies, as they were knocked out by the noise. Their eyes, burning red as if they were literally on fire.
Witch was devastated. She spent years locked up in the castle of her own will, and, since she never left the castle, no one even knew of her despair. A month or so later, the house was sold to a snotty couple and their only child.
The family weren’t aware of her existence for the whole time that they lived there. Although, the young child (who was smarter and 10 times more sophisticated than her parents) found out about Witch when she went to explore the cupboards under the stairs (where Witch had resided the whole time the family had lived there).
Instead of freaking out, the only child was excited to have a new friend.
The young child would always visit Witch during the day (because she was home schooled by a very nice tutor that would always let her have breaks throughout the day) and tell her what was happening, what the family was doing and, because the child had extra time, played card games with her. She also brought Witch snacks and her left over meals from dinner.
Everything was going well for Witch, but when the child and their parents went on holidays to the other regions, Witch was left alone. She did like the house when it was quiet. But it was also too quiet for her liking.
Witch would hum songs she listened to when she had just moved into the house. Goula would have hundreds of records that played beautiful violin and cello pieces, which Goula would make up his own lyrics to. Some made Witch laugh or cry. Some made her feel relaxed as the wind blew through the land, and as the rain would patter softly on the tall castle roofs. The fire next to them and Goula singing in his rocking chair. Witch laying on the thick warm rug with violin drifting passed them was simply the perfect way to spend the night.
It made her cry. Witch cried for a long time. But there was also nostalgia in the mix. She laughed and cried at the same time and danced around the empty house humming the tune that her.. father.. had always sung to her.
The family came back the next day to find Witch lying on the floor, unable to get up. She was squirming around and having a mental breakdown. The only child rushed to her and helped her up. They both ran away to the cupboard in the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” Witch said with a mellow tone of depression. “This just happens too much…”
The only child hugged Witch. Witch hugged her back. And at that moment, Witch had her arms again.
There was a joint tone of screams that kept growing louder and louder. The parents burst into the kitchen and searched every single cupboard there was until they found the child hugging Witch. The crazy duo grasped the child and ran out of the castle screaming “DIRTY HOBO!”
Witch, frozen with fear, whispered in a soft cry..
The family was never seen or heard from again, in fact, the sheriffs dubbed their disapperences the biggest mystery in all of history.
Witch was engulfed in depression, it swallowed her whole. Despite the horrible taste, it didn’t spit her out.
She ran upstairs and grabbed every single flower vase, using her sadness and loss as fuel her arms, hid them in the place where the only child and Witch first met.
She stayed in there for years.
This process of families coming in and out, finding Witch in the cupboards with her vases, and dissing her as a dirty peasant the previous owners simply forgot about, kept repeating and never, ever stopped.
Until one day, so engulfed and infuriated with the abuse she’d dealed with for too long, came out.
It was the day before the Kofabian Questers came to investigate the mansion, and Witch had nearly loss 75% of her bodily fluids crying her eyes out and wheezing trying to catch her breath, that she screamed as loud as she could. It was almost as ear shattering as the Carnane wolves howls, but with the scream came a whisp of fire.
Witch staggered back against the wall in realization of what she had just manifested. Fire.
She could breathe fire.
Witch used her fear to open the colossal wooden doors (that had kept her imprisoned in the darkness that was herself) and she stepped out into the bright sunshine. She reacted like a vampire at first, screeching quite loud, but then she adapted.
Racing down the cracked steps, she screamed once again, the piercing cry of the fallen, and a whole bonfire came spitting with rage out of her mouth. She could breathe FIRE.
She sprinted with all her might and ignored a trio of dirty hippies waddling up the stairs to check out the house. They all looked back and saw her laugh and manifest fire in front of their very eyes.
Witch, unaware that she could stop, gathered the flowers that lined the walls that surrounded the mansion and grabbed them all with her air arms and laughed and cried at the same time. She ran so fast, it was almost as if she had sprinted a marathon and taken 2 seconds to complete.
Witch, sprinting back up the stairs and settling in the mansion dropped the flowers she’d brought into the vases and sat them on the table.
Then, as the moon peaked high above the old mansion; there came a bashing on the door.
Startled, she hid in her favourite cupboard, grabbing up as many vases as she could (using surprise), and she then settled herself into a fighting position, just in case the invited guest had some very serious mental anger issues.
Witch peeked through a little hole the only child and her had carved out. The thing she saw was terrifying.
It was a quartet of explorers. Smashing all of the pots on the table, whilst bantering about their previous fights with other deadly enemies and taking them down. ripping open couches, going into the kitchen; opening and breaking everything in all the cupboards in the kitchen. They bantering about their previous fights with other deadly enemies and taking them down. Witch was scared that the same would happen to her.
All of the cupboards in the house were checked. Except for two.
So now there was a fifty percent chance that the tall, very over confident, smiling explorer would check her cupboard. Witch shuffled close to her vases, not feeling like crying, not feeling scared.
But what she did feel was determined. Determined to get her home back. Witch had never felt this angry and determined in her whole life. It was exhilarating.
As the explorers heard suspicious movement coming from her cupboard, a laugh so dark and excited somehow at the same time, the quadret felt that they should go and check it out together. But they made the wrong choice.
Witch’s eyes were glowing orange with a hint of red. She was ready to get her home back.
Bursting out of the cupboard, before the explorers even took their first step, Witch was there. She began to levitate and, carrying her vases with her, screamed the words..
“I AM WITCH MAIDEN, AND I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF EVERYONE TAKING EVERYTHING AWAY FROM ME!
With those words came fire. The battle had finally began.
I did this drawing for Kofabia Quest quite a while ago, and I just found it again. The idea was obviously quite random,(an armless, genderless looking girl kicking a flowerpot that is on fire) but I was looking at writing a back story for her, because I didn’t want to leave it a mystery for you and myself.
This has taken my quite a while to write, so I hope you like it!