kind of verbal encouragement to Ettolrahc. "We'll be brave together," she added, "and I'll show you that I'm not weak."
Despite these words, however, she felt desperately scared. The cave had always been considered out of bounds, and Charlotte's mother had warned her over and over again to never go inside. Still, in recent days, an argument of unprecedented ferocity had been raging inside Charlotte's head. The adventurous Charlotte had wanted to go exploring, to plunge into the darkness and see what might be found, whereas the cautious Charlotte had wanted to just play the way they always played on a warm summer's day. Eventually, the cautious Charlotte had won out, but in doing so she seemed to have struck a mortal blow to Ettolrahc. There had been a little unease between the two voices in her head, of course, but she had never guessed that the result could be blood. As she stood in the mouth of the cave, barefoot and nervous, she tried to ignore her fear, and she allowed only the faintest flicker of doubt to cross her features.
She couldn't help but glance back over her shoulder yet again, toward the house. She knew that her mother would react with horror if she knew about this little adventure. This was Charlotte's timid, respectful side; always worried about the repercussions, and always convinced that she'd end up being told off and sent to her room. This part of her, so often in control, was now just a passenger, as she forced herself to remember that everything she was doing, she was doing for Ettolrahc's sake. Ultimately, if it came down to a battle between Ettolrahc's influence and that of her mother, it was Ettolrahc who would win every time.
"Okay," Charlotte whispered, aware that there was no point delaying things any longer. "Okay."
Slowly, she started walking forward into the wet cave, her bare feet instantly feeling cold. She was convinced that at any moment, the witch of the cave might leap out and make her presence known, and Charlotte had already managed to conjure up all sorts of horrific visions of how the witch might look; perhaps she'd be a green-skinned, wart-covered monster with a stove hat; or maybe she'd be an old crone, with straggly long hair and rounded, swollen joints; worst of all, she might look like a normal woman, her power hiding deeper beneath the surface and behind a pair of calm, seductive eyes. Charlotte wanted to be ready for any eventuality, yet she also believed that the witch would probably be capable of surprising her with another form entirely.
Barely a few meters into the cave, the light was already low. Charlotte could hear water running somewhere beneath the rocks upon which she was standing, as a smaller river flowed somewhere in the darkness.
A drop of cold water fell from the wet roof and landed on the back of Charlotte's neck, causing her to take a shocked step back and, in the process, almost knocking her off her balance. She paused for a moment and took a deep breath, almost losing her confidence and bravery. Almost, but not quite. She steeled herself before reaching down and wiping some dirt from the soles of her feet, hoping that cleaner skin might give her a better grip on the wet rocks. As she made her way forward, she could hear drips deeper in the cave, echoing as they hit the water. It was like being in another world entirely, but she kept telling herself not to be scared: after all, at the first sign of trouble, she could just turn and run back out. Escape was always an option.
"Hello?" she called out. The word immediately echoed all around her, as if the witch had caught her voice and shattered it into a million little pieces.
She waited as the echoes died away.
Her belly gave another twist of pain, as if Ettolrahc was stirring. Charlotte felt certain that by proving her bravery, she could bring her old friend back to life and stop the blood. She just needed to keep going.
When she reached the edge of the rocks and looked down into the water, she knew she
Despite these words, however, she felt desperately scared. The cave had always been considered out of bounds, and Charlotte's mother had warned her over and over again to never go inside. Still, in recent days, an argument of unprecedented ferocity had been raging inside Charlotte's head. The adventurous Charlotte had wanted to go exploring, to plunge into the darkness and see what might be found, whereas the cautious Charlotte had wanted to just play the way they always played on a warm summer's day. Eventually, the cautious Charlotte had won out, but in doing so she seemed to have struck a mortal blow to Ettolrahc. There had been a little unease between the two voices in her head, of course, but she had never guessed that the result could be blood. As she stood in the mouth of the cave, barefoot and nervous, she tried to ignore her fear, and she allowed only the faintest flicker of doubt to cross her features.
She couldn't help but glance back over her shoulder yet again, toward the house. She knew that her mother would react with horror if she knew about this little adventure. This was Charlotte's timid, respectful side; always worried about the repercussions, and always convinced that she'd end up being told off and sent to her room. This part of her, so often in control, was now just a passenger, as she forced herself to remember that everything she was doing, she was doing for Ettolrahc's sake. Ultimately, if it came down to a battle between Ettolrahc's influence and that of her mother, it was Ettolrahc who would win every time.
"Okay," Charlotte whispered, aware that there was no point delaying things any longer. "Okay."
Slowly, she started walking forward into the wet cave, her bare feet instantly feeling cold. She was convinced that at any moment, the witch of the cave might leap out and make her presence known, and Charlotte had already managed to conjure up all sorts of horrific visions of how the witch might look; perhaps she'd be a green-skinned, wart-covered monster with a stove hat; or maybe she'd be an old crone, with straggly long hair and rounded, swollen joints; worst of all, she might look like a normal woman, her power hiding deeper beneath the surface and behind a pair of calm, seductive eyes. Charlotte wanted to be ready for any eventuality, yet she also believed that the witch would probably be capable of surprising her with another form entirely.
Barely a few meters into the cave, the light was already low. Charlotte could hear water running somewhere beneath the rocks upon which she was standing, as a smaller river flowed somewhere in the darkness.
A drop of cold water fell from the wet roof and landed on the back of Charlotte's neck, causing her to take a shocked step back and, in the process, almost knocking her off her balance. She paused for a moment and took a deep breath, almost losing her confidence and bravery. Almost, but not quite. She steeled herself before reaching down and wiping some dirt from the soles of her feet, hoping that cleaner skin might give her a better grip on the wet rocks. As she made her way forward, she could hear drips deeper in the cave, echoing as they hit the water. It was like being in another world entirely, but she kept telling herself not to be scared: after all, at the first sign of trouble, she could just turn and run back out. Escape was always an option.
"Hello?" she called out. The word immediately echoed all around her, as if the witch had caught her voice and shattered it into a million little pieces.
She waited as the echoes died away.
Her belly gave another twist of pain, as if Ettolrahc was stirring. Charlotte felt certain that by proving her bravery, she could bring her old friend back to life and stop the blood. She just needed to keep going.
When she reached the edge of the rocks and looked down into the water, she knew she
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