Alec felt like a thousand horses were stomping on his head. Slowly opening his eyes, his view was of rotten wood in a dimly lit room. He looked to his left and found himself at eye level with the floor, the wooden floor was splintering and molding in some places. A door was about a foot or two away from where he laid, he could see a workbench beside him filled with strange plants, vials, and books. A small bed was in the corner of the room, the little room he was in was filled with potted plants, other vials, and books.

Alec slowly started to sit up; pain shot through his back. He gasped and winced. "I would take it easy if I were you," called a soft voice from the other side of the room. Alec craned his neck over the workbench to see a young woman on the other side of the room, her back to him, flipping through a book.

"What-what happened?" He rasped; his throat felt dried. "Where am I?" Silva turned to face him, she was still looking down at her book, flipping through the pages as she walked over to him.

"You were attacked." She set the book to the side, her sharp green eyes pinning him down. Alec looked at the woman. She was beautiful with auburn hair that waved down past her shoulders. Light skin that almost seemed to glow. She wore a green velvet dress that matched her eyes, making them the most noticeable feature on her.

"Attacked?" His head hurt and he couldn't remember much. Silva crossed the room to a fireplace where a fire was kindling. Hovering over the flames was a pot filled with boiling water. She took the ladle that was hanging on the wall, dipped into the pot and poured the hot water into a wooden bowl she had on hand. Alec put his hand on the workbench and tried to stand.

It was a struggle to stand as his legs wobbled with effort. He closed his eyes, trying to stop his vision from spinning. As he did, flashes from the attack appeared in the back of his head. They came from nowhere. The black demons. They attacked his men, their screams echoing in his head. He visibly flinched when he saw one of those demons had come after him.

There was thud on the workbench beside him, drawing him out of the memory. Alec opened his eyes and turned to see a black cat staring up at him with its bright green eyes. Startled by the animal, he jumped away. "Barlo is harmless," Silva said. She was still by the fireplace, holding the wooden bowl in one hand, watching him intently. He felt self-conscious. This woman was no ordinary medicine woman, he felt the aura that radiated off her. He glanced at the cat that still sat on the table watching him.

"You're a witch," He said, and the woman frowned.

"No," She said coming towards him, he noticed that she wore a necklace that reflected off the firelight. The charm that hung from the chain was of a sun, and in the firelight, looked to be alive. "I am not a witch," she repeated, handing him the wooden bowl. Alec looked down at the steaming liquid. He saw herbs floating and swimming through the hot water. "Drink, it will help you." He gave her an uncertain look. "If I wanted you dead, I would have left you where I found you. Now drink." He did. The hot liquid felt good going down his dried throat, quenching it of its thirst. The herbs that were mixed into the drink were bitter and had a bit of spice to them, he found himself coughing. Alec cleared his throat and pounded his chest.

Silva smirked and took the bowl from him. She placed it off to the side. "If you're not a witch," he said after he was done coughing. "Then what are you?"

"I prefer the term, a woman of the Arts," She said, and he gave her a look that was meant to say, what's the difference? She huffed, but continued, "unlike a 'witch' as you mortals like to coin, I value the living things around me. I don't neglect nature and what it has to offer me. I use my resources thoroughly. A witch is a selfish being who would rather spill your blood than save it."

Alec opened and closed his mouth. The black cat, Barlo, stood and walked over to the woman, she rubbed her hand down his back. The cat looked up at Silva, and for a moment, they seemed to be communicating without talking. Barlo sat, his back facing her and his eyes on him. It made Alec feel very uncomfortable. "What's your name?"

Alec blinked a couple times. Why did she want to know his name? He wondered briefly if she didn't know who he was. Though if she spent most of her time in these woods, he supposed not.  "I am Alec," He said, not seeing the harm in giving her just his name. The woman leaned against the workbench, crossing her arms, and stared at Alec.

"And you are part of the royal kingdom, are you not? After all, you were surrounded by king's men when I found you," She said, and saw him go rigid. He nodded.

"Yes," Alec said hesitantly. "I am Prince Alec, son of King Frederick." He looked at her, as if thinking by knowing who he was, that she would cast a spell on him, curse him for all eternity. "You're, erm, not going to-"

"I have no interest in placing a spell or curse on you," She interrupted, annoyed by his statement.

"Then why did you save me?" The young woman in front of him began to organize her workbench. Placing books in stacks and herbs back in their jars and vials.

"Tell me what happened to you and your men," She said, clearly avoiding his question. Alec went to protest but the woman in front of him held up her hand, "I cannot tell you my reason unless I am told what happened to you." Alec didn't argue, as he knew he would most likely lose, so he complied.

"We were told that there was a series of robberies on that road, so my father had me and a few of my men go and put a stop to it, but when we got there, we were met with.... I don't even know what they were... demons? I managed to slay one before everything went dark." Alec shook his head.

"Wraiths," she corrected. Alec gave her a curious look. He took a step forward to the woman but stopped shortly when Barlo thwacked his tail on the table and narrowed his eyes at the prince. "In a sense, yes, they are demons, but none like those you were told about as a child. Wraiths are created and controlled by a sorcerer. The sorcerer who creates these beings creates it out of his or her soul. And every time a wraith dies, that part of the sorcerer's soul dies with it until he or she dies with every last wraith." Alec blinked. This made no sense.

"Then why save me?" He asked again. Silva hesitated for a moment. She looked at Barlo, who shook his head. She frowned at the cat. Looking back at Alec, she said,

"Because I am hunting down the sorcerer who has created those wraiths. And for whatever reason, the sorcerer has an interest in you."

"But why? And who is the sorcerer." Silva remained silent.

"I do not know why, but the rest of that information is mine to withhold." Alec went to push for more information, but the woman ignored him and busied herself with her vials and books. One way or another, Alec was going to get it out of her. This involves him as much as it does her. It was only a matter of time.