Helen shrieked and stomped out of the tiny hut, her midnight blue dress swirling around her ankles. She shook her head at the very idea of Sioni running off. Suddenly, a slow grin crept over her face. She was no longer Malvolia, she was Helen. She was young and beautiful, and no longer needed Sioni’s blood. The curse had been removed, the curse put upon her so long ago by that horrid blood witch, Sioni’s mother.

So Sioni couldn’t bear children, so what? Helen didn’t care, it was of no consequence to her. She had gone through the same thing, years ago, when Sioni’s mother began the curse.

“You will be childless forever!” She had laughed, pushing Helen, then only thirteen, and betrothed, into the muck. Helen was then named Arelia, before she took the witch name Malvolia. She had cried, run away, and never realized the curse had taken hold.

Sioni’s mother had been beautiful, well-off in the peasant world. She had seen Arelia with scorn, especially when she was married first.

She was the witch.