Young Writers Society

A story for beckiw's inspiration contest. I'm sorry if it isn't good, I just haven't been thinking clearly lately xD

Hope you enjoy it none the less and tear it up!!

Thanks!

-Irish

They would be sorry. They would regret the fact that they ever doubted my power.

I walked toward the woods, the early morning sun shining through the trees, glinting off the pure white snow and giving the old wood an eerie bewitching charm. I smiled, I liked the feeling of it.

A low, moss covered stone wall ran around the wood, winding its way around to a small wooden gate, half of its hinges; a pitiful attempt to keep out wandering damsels and unsuspecting travelers.

I walked up to the gate and opened it slowly, thinking about how he would react to them refusing to add me to the Council. He would not be pleased but my own rage over the entire ordeal overrided my fear of being punished for failing.

The snow crunched under my boots as I walked toward the small clearing in the middle of the wood, I pulled my matching scarlet cloak closer around my shoulders.

Stepping into the clearing the warmth from the sun rained on me and lightened my mood some. A few seconds later I heard the music of his arrival. A low, ominous hiss.

I stood up straight and didn’t dare look when the glint of his body in the early sun glanced into my vision.

“How did it go, Saraeth?” He lulled quietly, inching his way toward me.

I swallowed, “Not well, I’m afraid. Master, they refused to allow me onto the Council, they said they would not allow a woman to rule over the magic of this land.”

He stopped at my feet and began his decent up my blood red skirt slowly; the feeling of his travel was hypnotizing.

“Well, that won’t do at all,” he said.

I frowned; there was no rage in his voice, just the peaceful tranquility of someone deep in thought. I decided to be bold.

“What are you planning to do, Master?”

He was on my shoulder now, coming across the back of my neck, his cold skin making me shiver. His tongue flickered against on my ear as he thought about my question.

“I think, we should show them their loss,” he said after a moment, “They are only afraid that you are more powerful than they. They cannot fathom the fact that they could be surpassed by a woman.”

I frowned, my anger suddenly starting to boil up in me once more. Were they truly so shallow that they would not allow me to take a job of utter importance to the country because I might be better than them? Master's slow lulling voice showed its hidden truth.

“What shall we do then, Master?” I asked as his head lifted and looked over my face.

“You shall go to them again, Saraeth, and this time, you shall show them no mercy in showing them just how powerful you are, and that you are not to be refused. Return to them with the name of The Sorceress Saraeth, Lady of the Snake, for I will be with you as a symbol of your might, and they will have no choice but to make you head of the Council.” He said, beginning to laugh at his own genius.

I felt pride swell in my chest at the thought of becoming the head of the Council with Master by my side. It was a brilliant idea to bring him, a being of his great size and strength to prove my worth. It seemed too perfect, and I found myself laughing as well.

With Master coiled lightly around my shoulders, I set off again back to the moss-covered wall and gate, back to the capital, back to the castle, and back to the Council, to show them just how big of a wrong they had commited.