Start of an Era

HELGA

Helga had been chased out of her previous town in Wales for her brief relationship with Florence. They had screamed, ‘Witch, witch!’ not knowing how true it was. She had found her way to France, where she had met her current partner, Lisabet. She had been browsing a bookshop when her hand touched Lisabet’s as they landed on the same book, and the rest was history.

Now, Helga was examining children from the village, trying to find children that would need an outlet like she did. Trying to find them before the priests did. Of course, she was doing so under the guise of a holy woman. If the parents confessed any signs of witchcraft, she would give them an instruction book she had written for taking care of magical children. Most parents were grateful, but a few sent authorities after her. That was usually when she had to find a new place to live.

“Children like Tilly are very hard to manage, but you must understand they are not monsters,” Helga said, patting the shoulder of Tilly’s mother. This mother’s husband had died only weeks after Tilly’s birth due to a fever of some sorts, and she was frazzled. Her elder son was only three when Tilly was born, and now that Tilly was seven and levitating things, life wasn’t getting any easier. “She is simply magical. That is no reason to hate her. One day, you might be very thankful for her gifts.”

Tilly’s mother nodded, holding the book Helga had given her against her chest like a lifeline. Helga understood that sometimes it might have disturbed a person to have learned so much in so little time, but she didn’t know what else to do about it. She was utterly devastated for the children she wouldn’t save in time, but there was nothing else she could do.

As she left the house, she looked back for a split second. Then, she joined Lisabet. “I don’t like how much time you spend with the poorer families, Helga. They don’t pay you for the books. I know you believe that every child should have an opportunity, but we won’t have any money to sustain ourselves soon.”

Helga sighed. “And when that happens, we must turn to the charity of our occasional rich client.”

“This is not a safe lifestyle, Helga. I don’t know how you expect to remain eating food and drinking good water for much longer.”

“Well, who said I expected to do that on legal terms? I can make molded bread new again and I can purify dirty water. I will take what no one else will.”

“Helga…”

“Lisabet…”

“I do not expect you to give up your habit of helping the less fortunate, but I do want you to make good decisions overall. Can giving not be the lesser part of a bigger job? Not a charity position, a job.”

“And where is the fun in that?” Helga leaned in to kiss her lover’s cheek, then recoiled at the smell of pig’s blood. “You need to wash yourself after you come back from the butcher’s. I’d prefer to kiss a woman without the innards of pigs coming to mind.”

“We don’t have enough money for clean bathwater, Helga.”

“I’ll make some whenever you ask.”

“You know how I feel about magic.”

“You don’t need to feel any way about magic, Lisabet, if it helps you sleep at night.”

Helga patted Lisabet on the shoulder as she walked briskly away to the next house. When she turned back to see Lisabet’s face, she saw her clear discontent on her face. As much as she hated to disregard the wishes of a woman she loved so much, she did not want to allow more children to go unhelped. Nine times out of ten, the poor house she would visit would simply have a rambunctious child. But on the tenth time, Helga would be the only person to provide help in a dire world.

“Hello, Florence, how are you today?” Helga asked as Florence Dillard opened the door for her.

“Oh, hello Helga! Well, I heard you specialized in peculiar children, and I thought you might take a look at Alaric, here. He’s very energetic, and we worry that he might not grow up to be anything more than a shepherd.”

Alaric, in fact, had been mentioned by many children as the pauper boy who loved to steal bread from other children. As well as other pranks that he orchestrated, Tilly had listed him as calling her friends mean names. “Why, of course. I shall see him immediately.”

And immediately, as she walked inside the house of the French countryside, she saw him. Chicken feathers were spread about the house, and Alaric sat among the mess, sprawled on the floor and staring at the ceiling. “Hello, Madame Helga.”

“Why, hello, Alaric. Would you like to tell me how these feathers got here?”

“I was pointing to a chicken, and then the chicken didn’t have any feathers, so I thought it’d be nice to decorate the room with him.” The young boy was about eight, with dark brown curly hair and freckles dotting his face. He had buck teeth and a cheery grin that only got wider as his mother walked to the door.

“Alaric, you know we can’t afford this. We’ll lose money.”

Helga frowned, looking at Florence. “Pardon me for saying this, but I don’t see how you can afford to keep him at all. He’s a rambunctious child, and more than most people can handle. Not only that, he seems to have a touch of magic.”

The color drained from Florence’s face. “I was afraid you would say that. Tell me, is the child possessed by a demon! That would explain his unruly behavior.”

“No! He, as a child, is a possessor of magic.”

“So he is a demon master?”

“His magic has nothing to do with demons, Florence.”

“Oh, please take him away, Helga! I cannot have a demon in my house.”

Alaric sat up. “Mum? You don’t want me to stay here?”

Helga looked between the two. “Certainly you don’t mean that, Florence—”

“Witch! You consort with demons!”

Helga stilled. “I do nothing of the sort.”

Florence was screaming at the top of her lungs now, and her husband came from around the corner to see the commotion. “Take the demon invested child and leave, you witch! You are no holy woman!”

And, taking a pitying glance at Alaric as she lifted him up in her arms, she ran from the house until she was out of sight. Then, she apparated to Lisabet. “We must leave this town at once,” she said as she put Alaric back down on his feet. His eyes were wide. “I have just been announced as a witch.”

Lisabet gasped. “I cannot leave this town! It is my home! I grew up here, Helga.”

“Leave with me,” she pleaded again. “Or I will leave without you.”

Alaric looked ready to cry. Lisabet bit her lip and looked from the shocked child to the urgent woman. “I cannot, Helga. I am sorry. We must end our affair now.”

Helga nodded primly. “Very well, then. I suppose I shall… Take my newly found pupil and leave. She took Alaric’s hand and apparated to about ten miles north of the town she had been in. Alaric’s bottom lip stuck out as tears started to fall down his cheeks.