Devlin Íobairt
The light knock on his chamber door gave Devlin pause. Was it real? Was he actually hearing someone or was the isolation beginning to take its toll on his psyche? The mayor, Lord Grayson, it honestly didn't matter who was knocking. Devlin couldn't deny the not so subtle leap his heart had taken. With equal parts enthusiasm and hesitation, he opened the door...
“Oh thank GOODNESS! Please get to work on this and make it snappy!”
A flashing glimpse of a woman and then he was blinded.
'Wha...?'
The stranger had thrown something over his head. Instinctively, Devlin reached up, his fingers touching the unmistakable texture of velvet. Pulling the fabric off of him, the boy's eyes adjusted to the room. There, in the center of his bedchamber, she stood. She was petite. Slight but curvaceous, with raven black hair that fell to her waist in shimmering waves. She was rummaging through a satchel she carried and appeared to no longer notice him standing there.
Unsure of what, exactly, he should make of the situation, Devlin assumed she was an associate of the mayor or even Lord Grayson. She did look rather familiar. Without a word, he walked over to his sewing supplies on the table. He threaded a needle and began to work on repairing the torn garment.
In and out, he stitched, sneaking a glimpse of the woman whenever he could. When she withdrew a handful of herbs and a candle from her bag, it hit him;
'The witch lady!'
Of course! He'd seen her at the Grayson estate several times over the past few months. She was a witch. And quite the talented one if rumor were to be believed. Devlin had heard the other, more streetwise servants speak of her, always in hushed tones as if at any moment she could curse the lot of them. He had always been rather skeptical. What the boy saw next, however, chased away every bit of skepticism from his mind...
The woman must have lit the candle somehow. Setting it down, she focused her attention on him. Devlin watched as she made her way over to him, taking his hands in her own. She deftly pressed down on his fingers, which were still holding the sewing needle. A flash of pain shot through his hand and the boy cried out. He tried to pull away but found himself unable to move. His blood ran cold in an instant, veins carrying ice to all extremities of his body. Eyes wide, Devlin watched the woman whisper to him over and over again, though the words failed to reach his ears. Then, just as quickly as it had happened, it was over. She let go of him and the boy's body felt warm once more, as if the incident had never actually happened.
'Wh-what on earth...!?'
Through gasping breaths, the witch spoke. Her words were heavy with urgency...
“Tell me you see them. Close your eyes and please tell me you can see them!”
While Devlin rightfully had a rapidly growing list of questions for this mysterious woman, he found himself unable to form the words to ask any of them. Instead, he did as he was told. It was almost instinctual, how right it felt to close his eyes. And so the boy did as he was commanded...
He was moving. Fast. Blurs of colors and sounds passed him by. But he was staying still...No, it was the world itself that was moving. It moved with knowledge. With purpose. It was guiding him somewhere. Somewhere Devlin knew he should be. Giving himself up to the power, he allowed himself to see what it wanted to show him. Back in his lonely bedchamber, he spoke aloud what his mind saw...
"I see...the ocean. There's a dock...and...people...three people."
The images before him warped and twisted until they formed a new vision.
"A marketplace...here in town...I know...The windmill I saw it from here in my room."
Finally, the vision changed once more. He recognized it right away.
"A foyer...There's the mayor and...and Lord Grayson...!"
And suddenly he was falling. Forward and backward and out of control and -
- he was back in his room. The dark haired woman had an arm around his shoulders.
Devlin's eyes darted around the room. The table. The bed. The window. It was all here...Not moving...No more moving...
He looked up into the woman's face. She had done this. Of that, he was certain. When his breath returned to him, Devlin found the words to speak.
"Wh-what was that...? What did I see?"