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The tent of Hecate was filled with silence and calm. Various rare herbs lay around, scrolls dating back to the time of the Titans’ rule, and countless protective amulets. One could even say there were too many of them. Probably nowhere on the entire crossroads was there as much magical protection as in this place.
Angustias and the Titania of Magic were sitting on the simplest cot. Hecate was nervously removing her metal gauntlet. Her mask had already been taken off long ago and was lying somewhere in the other corner of the bed. The witch was quickly searching for something in her bag while Titania was still in the right mood to be treated.
Angustias had never imagined she would become so close to Hecate. The main reason was that their ways of using magic were too different—one could even say their professions were different. Angustias had never been interested in obtaining magic through the moon; she was far more fascinated by powers drawn from nature, various bypass runes, or even unusual crystal energy. And she was more of a potion-brewer than a battle mage. It was easy to understand that she had little in common with one of the Moon Sisters who created most of the spells.
It wasn’t even worth recalling their first meeting. Now, here in Hecate’s tent and on their way here, this wasn’t visible, but… torches. Those damned favorite torches of Titania with their strange flames. When the witch saw them, her mind simply shut down completely, and she didn’t even listen to the stranger, though the latter had wanted to cooperate. Well, it must have been very unpleasant to receive one of the spells Angustias had thrown reflexively just to keep her away.
How Hecate didn’t curse her for that, the witch didn’t know—apparently Hecate had been in a good mood then, or immediately understood the cause of the aggression. After many attempts, the woman managed to speak with the witch and come to an agreement. Back then Angustias didn’t understand why she bothered, but now, looking at these scars, it finally became clear.
The witch carefully raised her hand to the damaged cheek of Hecate, and the latter hissed from the touch and pulled away. A few grains of golden sand spilled from her cheek.
“You shouldn’t have refused the weekly procedure back then,”
Angustias said, frowning. Titania shook her head.
“Melinoë had sunk too deep into the sea. I had to summon her urgently.”
The witch sighed heavily. That girl again. The woman risked herself far too often because of her. She always justified it by saying the young witch was chosen and destined for an important role, but everyone understood it was a lie. The only unclear thing was whether she lied to Melinoë and all of them—or primarily to herself.
Angustias was curious about the other side of their strange relationship, but because of the strained relationship with Melinoë, she probably would not get the chance. The girl was far too jealous of the sudden stranger who appeared near her definitely-not-a-guardian. Especially considering that Hecate had revealed some secret to Angustias—while hiding it from the young sorceress.
The witch finally pulled out a small jar of ointment and opened it. Only a little of the foul-smelling medicine remained.
“Ask Melinoë sometime to bring some echinacea. I need to make another batch,”
Angustias said, scooping some ointment and bringing her fingers to the black-and-gold scar on Hecate’s cheek. Hecate sighed heavily.
“I don’t think it’s worth it. The pain-relieving effect is already weakening. It’s pointless to waste so many resources further.”
The witch lifted an eyebrow and took more ointment.
“As long as it works, I must use it. Afterwards, I’ll think of something.”
She gently touched Titania’s trembling, damaged arm. Golden and black lines were visible everywhere. Some parts of the arm were missing—not like in ordinary people, but as if porcelain had chipped away. From some cracks, that disgusting golden sand poured out. It looked both strange and beautiful at once.
The woman clenched her healthy hand into a fist and closed her eyes. This was the part of the procedure she hated most, which was why Angustias tried to apply the ointment as gently as possible.
“I hope that old bastard dies in agony,”
she muttered, frowning as Hecate’s arm twitched in pain. Titania smiled faintly, keeping her eyes closed.
“So do I… So do I.”
After that, they fell silent. Angustias continued applying the medicine, occasionally stopping to let the woman catch her breath. When the ointment was gone, the witch closed the jar and put it back in her bag. Hecate looked at her damaged arm, which had at least calmed somewhat.
“Try not to cast spells for a while. Your arm needs rest,”
Angustias said, wiping her hands. Titania nodded and reached for her gauntlet, but the witch took it away.
“Let me. It’ll be easier for me to put it on than for you.”
The woman sighed but nodded. Angustias carefully took Hecate’s damaged limb and slowly, gently began putting the piece of clothing on, tying it where necessary. Titania smiled at the actions, tilting her head as she watched the witch focus. It was strange and unusual, yet she found such pleasure in these gentle touches of her companion.
How she wished this wouldn’t end, and that she could keep feeling these warm touches.