Chapter Seventy Eight

The boy was small, he looked to be not older than seven years old with blonde locks that were covered in dark brown stains and blue eyes that drew you in. His face was filled with mud and so were his tattered clothing, blood stains here and there. He was trembling by Mage’s side as ushered the two inside the kitchen. I could feel his magic pouring through, it was gentle pure even. “Thank you both, you can leave now,” I say and Faran looks at me as if he's thinking twice about leaving me alone. he wasn't too trusting what shifters, no elf was. In the end, he left with Mage knowing that I'd be ok even without him. The boy stood by the door not moving not looking at anyone. “ what's your name?” I ask but he doesn't talk. He doesn't even look up. I could feel his distrust towards us. Witches weren't known for being trustful either but the boy was young he hadn't yet conformed to witch culture nor did he have the stronghold on his magic that most of them have at his age. I stand up and walk