Testing Testing
Legacy Name: Testing Testing

Welcome

In the kingdom of Sharmony, there's a town before the royal castle where peasants and the lower class reside. All sorts of characters can be found here in the castle town, from drunks to the Royal Guard. Even a cat who dons a dress and a black, silk hat. This feline creature is known to those around town as 'The Cat Witch' due to her feline appearance. Few know her by her true name, Agnes. She can be found running errands for the townsfolk, strolling casually in the market for ingredients or simply in her hut reading a book. Well respected, she is known for her generosity around town and is always willing to lend a hand to others in need. They try to repay her for her kindness with coins but she insists they keep them. After all, she might seem like your run-of-the-mill witch but she's got something that sets her apart from all others. She possesses a very odd ability: one that allows her to see the past behind an object she touches. This ability of hers can be triggered with almost anything tangible. However, she keeps this ability well hidden from general knowledge. Hence, she comes across many confused faces and odd looks when she simply asks to see their rarest item. Agnes never steals them, but rather stares at her treasure for a few minutes in wonderment. When she gives it back to whomever she has helped they're often even more confused, though grateful they did not have to waiver the night's dinner for a favor.

When she isn't outside running around, she is at home polishing up her current collection of antiques or studying up on intricate potions and powerful spells. Her hut is only one room, as most homes in the area do but is rather spacious. There is a small space for a 'foyer', though as it leads directly into the one room it is better described as more of a hallway. In the middle of the area is a huge cast iron cauldron where she makes all of her brews. Off to the right side is a small kitchen where she has a smaller cauldron for food along with a frying pan that sits on a small wood stove. Next to this is a cupboard where she keeps a few plates, bowls and glasses in addition to silverware. Under this is her washbasin, where she cleans her dishes and clothing. Across the room is where her bed sits with an old mahogany bed frame and her mattress. The mattress is packed full of self-enchanted sheep wool which fluffs itself over time, keeping the mattress more comfortable and springy. Those who are invited into her home often claim she has the best mattress in all the land.

Finally, at the head of her house lies her treasured bookshelf, covered in ancient books, aging potions, charms of both pure and evil orient, and various photos of her with Ryana, her sister. This bookshelf can tell a lifetime of stories about Agnes and none need open a single page. Many of the books here are worn, struggling to keep up with the demand from their owner. They have unique characteristics, from the curling of page 63 to the small tear caused by an over-zealous reader on page 301. Despite these, they're well taken care of to ensure maximum efficiency for years to come. Reaching high on the wall above the bookshelf is a large, circular window that allows light to filter down in the middle of her house. It's a pain to reach without the use of magic to close the sheer curtains. Agnes often wonders how the previous owner even got them up there.

Agnes never considered herself political even though Ryana is the prince's bodyguard. She actually preferred to keep out of matters dealing with other nations, choosing to focus on her own life and her town. In her eyes the royal family was nothing more than an acquaintance and the army were people who protected her right to wake up at each returning dawn. Occasionally she would receive an item of interest from Ryana but otherwise had little contact that had anything to do with the castle. She liked it that way. Traveling merchants that came into town were often leagues more intriguing than the royalty she'd have to speak to inside the castle. Not to say she resented them for their status, but due to her thick Scottish accent they often regarded her as a ruffian for they could barely understand her. Whenever she visited the castle Ryana often had to translate which made Agnes a bit self conscious. One thing that made her like the royal family slightly more than the rest was that they could understand her perfectly. As it happens, the queen also had a Scottish accent (albeit much lighter than Agnes') and though only having seen her once or twice, enjoyed Agnes' company. The witch knew she was always welcomed in the castle but still preferred to keep mingling with the common folk.

Day in and day out it was the same. Agnes woke up, washed herself, conjured up some breakfast and went out into the bustling town. Like clockwork. She'd be out for a few hours before returning home often with new goodies to study. Being skilled in witchcraft, she was able to sell her potions to make a living so that she didn't need to find a meager paying job somewhere. She lived a good life and was satisfied with where she was. Fate had other plans for the witch, however. She had decided to give a visit to her sister in the castle donning lunch. Ryana always worked so hard and Agnes admired her prowess even without the assistance of magic. In the eyes of the witch, anyone could master spells with a bit of effort. True power and skill was being a physical menace as her sister proved to be. A hardy stew and a friendly conversation would make her day a bit brighter, especially with the recent seceding of Mechapolis which was proving to be a strain on international relations. When she got to the castle she was met with little more than a grunt from the guards in the front of the drawbridge, typical for them. She shrugged and walked inside seeing the usual hustle and bustle between one rich person to the next. It was like the castle was its own little society.

Agnes weaved in and out of the royalty moving about making sure not to spill her stew. It was too good to be wasted on one of those gaudy and completely unnecessary dresses. Unfortunately when she got to the head knight, she was informed that Ryana was currently out. The witch didn't pretend to know exactly what Ryana did on her missions with the Prince but she knew that her sister was very loyal and would refuse to leave his side even if the world were ending. Deciding that it would likely be awhile before Ryana returned, she decided to go offer some of the stew to the king and queen. Ryana alone couldn't eat all she had brought and she refused to share it with any of the hags who couldn't get their own head out of their ruffles long enough to attempt to understand her accent. The royal heads of the castle were the next two decent people. As she set off to see them she heard whispers of gossip among the crowd and felt eyes staring at her as she ascended the stairs.

'To Hell with'em!' she thought to herself disdainfully.

The king and queen's room was not a place many were allowed to transverse but Agnes being related to the prince's bodyguard was given a free pass of sorts. She was only briefly stopped by guards for a brief pat down and identity check whereas most others wouldn't have ever able to make it past this point. As she treaded down the long hall she noticed that it seemed to be awfully quiet. Though regular people weren't allowed up here the last two times she'd been up here there were more guards. Perhaps they were in the middle of a guard change? Agnes shrugged it off. She didn't know the inner workings of the castle and its staff. Her thoughts returned to the townsfolk and she realized, now that she had committed to visiting the rulers of the land, how much she wanted to return to town. Almost as if it were an instinctual feeling. She was in too deep now however and refused to turn around without sharing some of her stew. It was getting too heavy to keep lugging around anyhow. As she neared the thick wooden door that led to the private quarters of the royal duo she noticed something sticking out of the slightly cracked door. Kneeling down slightly, she gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth.

An armored hand stuck out from the room and kept the door from closing.

Without much thought she barged into the room. When she threw the door open she was greeted immediately with the two bodies of the soldiers that usually stood guard outside of the room. Agnes ran in further and abruptly stopped, nearly sloshing her stew onto the scarlet red rug that lead into the room. Not that it would have mattered, sanguine splotches already littered the carpet and stone floor alike. She stared wide eyed toward the center of the room where a winged figure stood. He towered over the queen who was quaking and clutching on to a sword so tightly that her knuckles were white. The figure turned his head toward the witch who flinched under his fierce gaze. Agnes wondered why the queen didn't move to strike him during this time but the sword in the winged man's hand revealed all, blood shimmering on the blade in the light. Her eyes darted back toward his face and he finally spoke.

"Who are you?"

"I could ask ye th' same!"

The man only chuckled darkly. Despite the malice within his tone his voice was smooth. It made him all the more unnerving. She glared at him seeing that he too had judged her by her cover, deciding she was not even a threat enough to attempt to attack. As he laughed freely into the air she thrust her hand outward and chains of dark matter latched onto him, forcing him to his knees. At that moment he realized that the feline-like girl before him was no servant. The chains were strong and the magic burned his skin. He snarled at her and narrowed his eyes.

"What business have ye with th' king and queen?!" Agnes demanded, stepping closer to the assassin.

He looked up at her from his position, a wicked grin covering his features.

"Revolution."

A circle of light surrounded Agnes and closed in around her. Glowing white spikes jutted from the floor and sent her flying backward. Her stew flew over her head and crashed into the wall, the wicker basket breaking on impact. She groaned and sat up only to see him standing over her like he had been the queen. Without warning he stabbed her and yanked his sword back, then spread his wings and flew above the massacre. A circle appeared above the man's head, much like the one used to assault Agnes. A halo that kept growing in size until it was big enough for him to fit through it. A bright, blinding light filled the room and within an instant, he vanished. Paralyzed, the witch caught her breath and slowly looked down at herself. There was a hole in her bag; her body was unscathed. He had mistakenly attacked her bag rather than her body and for that, she was eternally grateful. Otherwise she'd likely have had a similar fate to the king and queen. A weak voice shatters her thoughts and she jolts, clamoring to her hands and knees to rush to the queen's side.

"Agnes...?"

"Ma'am! Can yer royal lips. I can heal ye if you just give me a chance."

The queen smiled sadly as she watched Agnes remove her hand from her wound. Blood stained her silk robes and it didn't look like it was stopping. A faint blue glow slowly builds into a strong light surrounding the witch's hands as they hover above the wound. She grits her teeth and grunts with effort as energy surges through her being. She had studied many spells and yet still was not the first choice she would have gone to for healing, but she had to try something. Agnes may have not wanted to get involved with the Royal Family but she very well couldn't allow their queen to perish. A light hand on her own shake her concentration and she notices the glow starts to waiver from its strength. Desperately she lowers her head again and squeezes her eyes shut. It's like chasing a dream that flees as you awaken in bed.

"Please... Agnes... do not waste your energy."

"But I've got to try! I can't very well leave th' prince's mother dyin', now can I?"

"Whit's fur ye'll no go by ye. Just as my mother once said."

"I always hated that phrase. Yer not dyin'! I can heal ye up enough and then I can--"

The queen grasped her hands tighter and stared up at her with determination in her eyes. She was barely staving off death. "Agnes. Promise me something. Watch over Haegan... he is young and inexperienced, yet he will be king. He needs friends he can rely on. Please."

Agnes solemnly nodded. There was nothing she could do. Her healing had only stopped the flow of blood, but what's lost could not be replaced. Maybe if she had gotten there sooner her magic could've have worked. She stared at the queen who acknowledged her silent acceptance with another smile. She laid back against the end of her bed and looked past Agnes toward the wall. She was so focused on that spot that the cat turned to look at what she saw lest their killer come back to check on his handiwork. It was a family portrait. Haegan sat in front of his parents who were sitting just as proper as their bright-eyed son. All three of them looked like they were glowing with health. Proud to lead this country and serve their people. Agnes felt a weighted feeling on her hands and stiffened. Her heart felt like it had stopped entirely and she feared to see what sight awaited her, but deep down she knew. She turned to see the queen's closed eyes and her motionless body. Slowly she took the woman's hands in her own and dared to look at the king. He was in a much worse condition than his wife. Judging by his wounds and the blood spilled all over the fancy linens and tapestries, he had fought for not only his life but the life of his kingdom.

It was not easy explaining to the first guard she saw exactly what had happened. Mostly because the only two witnesses of her innocence had either died or fled the scene of the crime. Guards rushed past her as she stared off into space after alerting them and she watched with hollow eyes as they swept in to take the dead out of the room. Some of the women employed at the castle actually did approach her and tried to offer her some form of comfort. A blanket was all she would take from them. She wrapped it around her shoulders and simply stood. When the Prince returned from his mission she was first person he sought out, Ryana close by his side. Agnes barely noticed until they had started screaming for her attention to which she jolted just as she had when the queen called for her. She was barraged with questions from Haegan who was frantic to say the least. Her sister finally had to calm him down to which he apologized to the witch and then spoke softer. Slower. The Cat Witch retold the story and painted a colorful tale though she only used the colors of blood. Not a detail was left out, not even the part where the stew she had made for her dear sister smashed against the wall. Once she was finished, Haegan embraced her and thanked her for her recount. She was free to go home.

Agnes however, did not wish to return home so soon. In the darkness of her hut she feared she would only see the horror that happened before her replay over and over again. Her small, one room home which previously felt like a sanctuary now felt like the darkest catacombs. A prison of nightmares and unease. She would have done anything for a friend to appear while she was alone in the room of the deceased, alone in the hallway while chaos and despair erupted around her. Now that those friends had finally returned to her, she wished not to be alone. She asked--begged--if she could stay in the castle. Haegan happily fulfilled her request. Even though he and Agnes were not close, Haegan and Ryana were good friends and his bodyguard often boasted and told stories of her sister. She was allowed to room with Ryana. Though that night, a night remembered as the Night of Stained Feathers, Haegan, Ryana and Agnes stayed up all night drinking and mourning. Telling old tales of the king and queen, and of days gone by. Fearing what was to come and speculating on who could have committed such a horrendous crime.

Though it is the end of this tale, it was only the beginning to Agnes becoming the first witch of the castle, a place she would come to call home through her camaraderie with the prince and those who served faithful to him in his unit.

Credit

Thank you to all who made this profile possible!

Layout by Fire
Divider by Riu
Story by Porygon