1715

// Laurens

John did his best to shield himself from the autumn breeze. He had just come from his local bar where an interesting scenario played itself out.

"I swear I saw him!" He old town drunk spat. Everyone laughed.

"Saw who, old man?" A villager asked, laughing loudly at him. A woman was sat on his lap, also laughing as other men tried to grab at her.

"The Cornerwitch! He was hiding in a dark alley! I tried to corner him, but he threw a bag at the floor and a big cloud of smoke appeared and when if cleared...he was gone!"

Laughter filled the bar again.

"Get yourself one of these pretty ladies and get the hell out!" Someone else yelled, gesturing towards all the women selling themselves away to anyone. "Everyone knows the witches were burned at Salem years ago!"

A woman in a long and torn white dress came up to the old drunk and began trailing kisses along his neck. He protested and tried to continue his story when someone stood up for him.

"I saw him too!"

The room went quiet and everyone turned to a younger man. He had short blonde hair and a determined look on his face.

"What's that boy?"

"I saw the witch! I saw Mr. Thompson try and corner the creature! I saw the thing use it's magic!"

Everyone began murmuring amongst themselves.

"Aha! I told you lot! I know what I saw!" Mr. Thompson laughed, taking another chug of the gold-colored beer.

"What if there are more?" A woman asked.

"Why are they here?"

"They've come to take our children!"

"Our jobs!"

"He have to find them!"

"Burn them all!"

At that, John's blood was boiling but he couldn't fight these men. They were three times the size he was! So he tipped the bartender and slipped out of the noisy bar.

How could they be so cruel? Witches never did anything! They were people like him and had the same rights as everyone else! Yet they were still burned at the stake for doing the things they enjoyed!

John wished he knew magic, he could show them then.

So here he was, looking for the Cornerwitch. He had heard stories of him before, but he was certain all the magical beings became extinct after the Salem Witch Trials.

Apparently not.

He needed to warn him.

According to the tales, he was easy to find...if you knew where to look.

He could hear shouting from the bar. And if he squinted his eyes just right, he could see the men walking out with torches, ropes, and rakes. He could here the women wishing them luck and hoping they'd return safely.

John clenched his teeth and pulled on the base of his pony tail to tighten it. His coat wasn't doing him any good against the cold.

He rushed past an alley and swore he saw someone smoking. He walked back and slowly stepped into the dark area. He could see the orange specks at the end of the long pipe.

"What do you want?" The man asked. John jumped back. He couldn't see him. Even though the moon was shining into the alley, the man was standing in the shadows.

"Come into the light." John said. There was a scoff. "Please?"

The man sighed and slowly stepped into the cool dim light. He was shorter than John, but bewitching nonetheless. He had long hair that was pulled into a small pony tail like John's, only much less curly. His eyes were dark but had a hint of fear in them. He had facial hair around him mouth and on his chin. John had seen the sort of style on some of the villagers but never really appreciated it as much as he seemed to now.

The man was wearing a grey cloak that went down all the way to his ankles. But since he had one of his hands on his hips, John could see he was dressed in peasant clothing, his baggy shirt dark and his belt was too loose. His brown pants were tucked into his long black boots. A necklace with a single golden feather hung around his neck. His skin seemed to glow and seemed smoother than any of the women he had encountered.

The man held the pipe with his other hand and waved it in front of John.

"Hello? What do you want?" He asked again.

John brought himself back to reality. "I wanted to see if you were real and- "

The witch scoffed. "I don't play games, boy. What do you need?"

"The villagers; they found out about you and are on their way to hunt you down! Please, you need to get somewhere safe immediately!" John said, the shouting of the drunk men growing louder.

"I can take care of myself, thanks." The witch said, inhaling the smoke from his pipe and blowing it in John's face before turning around and walking away.

John swatted the smoke from his facd, coughing as it filled his nose and burned his lungs. "Wait!" He called and grabbed the man's shoulder, turning him around.

Almost instantly, the witch pushed John against the wall of the alley, causing him to yelp, stared into his eyes with a look that could kill and held a dagger above his head.

John's eyes widened and he removed his hand from the other's shoulder. "Please...they will stop at nothing."

The man flinched when a dim orange light filled the alley.

"I swear I heard something down here!" A villager yelled.

The witch gasped and held his dagger tightly in his hand, and let go of John. He stood in front of him and prepared himself.

"You have to leave!" John whispered.

"I told you, I can take care of myself!" The witch yelled. He let his hair down and put the ribbon in his pocket.

A large group of men stood at the alley.

"There!" One yelled.

The witch pulled out a small bag as the men ran towards him, aiming their weapons at him.

"We have to go!" John yelled and grabbed his arm as he was throwing the bag. Because John grabbed him, what was intended to land on the floor and scare the men, ended up flying into the sky, landed on one of the torches and exploded. Shouts and cries of pain were heard and the witch was dragged away from John.

They were chased for what seemed like hours until they reached a field of wheat and were able to lose the men.

They ran into a forest and stopped at a large tree with drooping leaves. They would be hidden here.

They were both panting and John fell to the floor, trying to catch his breath while the witch just leaned himself against the tree. Both their legs ached in pain.

After a few minutes, the witch fixed his cloak, pulled the hood over his head and glared down at John.

"I had everything under control."

John rolled his eyes and stood up. "Of course you did. You were way outnumbered and outgunned. I don't care how magical you are. You would have been killed tonight if it weren't for me!"

The man bit the inside of his cheek and looked away from him, a shadow glooming over his face. The moonlight still managed to peek through the branches and shone light onto the two men.

"Alexander Hamilton." He said quietly. John raised a brow.

"What?"

"My name. Is Alexander Hamilton." He repeated, looking back up to him. "And there's a million things I haven't done, but just you wait. Just you wait, I'll get them all done!"

John smiled and bowed before Alexander.

"John Laurens. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Alexander rolled his eyes. "Why are you being so formal? I'm a fucking witch! Why did you even risk your life to save me? You could have been killed tonight as well!"

John regained his posture and crossed his arms.

"I believe every life should be treated equally. No matter who they are, where they come from, the color of their skin, or if they can perform magic."

Alexander also crossed his arms. "Well now I have to repay you. What do you want?"

John shook his head. "You really don't have to-"

Alexander placed a finger to John's lips to hush him. "I insist. It's not every day you meet someone who's willing to defend a witch."

John rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled nervously. "Um...okay. I guess I'm kinda chilly."

Alexander smiled and pulled his hood down, kneeling down to gather some dirt from the ground. He whispered some sort of spell and in a second, a flower bloomed from his hands.

"Plant this in ashes. Water it with clove oil. Eat each blossom." He instructed, placing the flower in John's hands. "It will keep you warm."

"Thanks." John mumbled, staring at the flower in amazement.

Alexander smiled again and pulled the hood over his head, his hair finding itself to the front of his shoulders. "Thank you, John Laurens." And he walked around to the other side of the tree. When John checked, Alexander was gone.

He still had so many questions.

Why wasn't he killed at the Salem Witch Trials?

Was he even there?

Could he teach him magic?

Why had he gotten so worked up when John grabbed his shoulder?

So John went home and followed Alexander's instructions. And he was warm for a while...but it wasn't the warmth his body needed.

It wasn't enough.

Lol this is based off a tumblr post. It was this really cute comic strip about witches and it was pretty simple and I tried to stick to the comic but then my mind went all out and I really wanna make this a book so idk, what do you think? This was a little backstory for it I guess- if I make this an actual book.

Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? Please??