It was a beautiful morning, and a young woman walked along a path through a field with a basket in her hand. It was filled with various herbs. As she walked, a crow flew above her head, and swooped downwards.

"Sabin!" she exclaimed. The crow landed on her shoulder.

"Hello, my precious," she cooed to the bird. "I'm afraid that I've got no food for you here. Come back to the cottage with me and I'll feed you there."

The crow seemed to agree, and continued to ride on her shoulder. Soon a plain cottage came into view as she walked around the trees. There were chickens pecking along the ground in the yard and along the drive that lead away from the house. It appeared a peaceful scene.

Along the drive walked another young woman. The visitor had silky, streaming long hair down her back and a form that most women would envy. She walked cautiously, as if she were not supposed to be there. Upon seeing the guest, the crow flew up into the air and disappeared into the trees, as if to keep watch.

The woman on the drive spied the woman with the basket. With a look over her shoulder, she marched directly over, and said, "Anya?"

"Can I help you, Marjorie?" Anya asked, looking at the woman who had sought her out and drove away her crow. Marjorie was the wife of the butcher and normally she did not give Anya the slightest notice. Anya wondered what had brought the woman to the cottage.

"Yes," agreed Marjorie. Her eyes shifted around briefly; clearly concerned someone might see her talking to Anya.

Anya ignored the insult. "Why don't you come inside?" she offered kindly.

"Thank you," Marjorie said automatically. Anya had expected to be refused. She led the way inside, and offered Marjorie a chair.

"And what was it you were hoping that I could do for you?" Anya prompted.

Marjorie was fidgeting, which was a far cry from the overconfident beauty she normally was. "I think that my husband is interested in another woman," she confessed, obviously hating to admit her fears.

Anya was hardly surprised. The butcher's name was Heath. He had an attractive form and roving eyes which were a poorly hidden secret. In the village, only Marjorie normally seemed immune to the knowledge of his infidelity. Anya suddenly felt a bit sorry for her. She decided she would help, if she was able to.

Marjorie spoke at a near whisper. "Can you help me make him love me again?"

Anya was not certain that the woman's shallow husband had ever loved the beauty sitting before her for anything but her looks. "I'm afraid that I don't have the power to change someone's feelings," she said softly.

"But aren't there ways? Like... love potions? Can you make those?" Marjorie asked, with the fake pleading look she generally used to get her way.

"I can make a love potion, but it won't make him love you."

Marjorie frowned. "I'll pay for it."

Anya certainly needed the money, but she would not trick Marjorie to get it. "A love potion only inspires feelings that seem to be love for a certain amount of time, until it wears off."

"So if I had many of these potions, he would continue to love me?" Marjorie smiled at the idea.

"He would feel that he loved you while the potion remained in effect. Afterwards he might look more kindly on you if his memories of the time are positive. Or he may be furious and feel betrayed, if he realizes that you used a potion upon him," Anya cautioned.

Marjorie clearly was not interested in thinking of the cautious variety. "How much would enough of these potions to last a week cost?"

Anya sighed. The charm was simple, but finding the ingredients would likely be more trouble than Marjorie could afford. There was also a strong possibility that matters would end badly, which would likely make Anya's life more difficult. She already had enough problems, but...

"Fourteen crowns." The price would make the effort barely worth it. She doubted that a butcher's wife could afford more. She appeared a big fish, but only because she swam in a very small pond.

"Done," Marjorie said decisively. "Prepare the potions. I'll bring your payment when they are ready. How long will it take you to brew them?"

"A little over a week." Anya hoped she would not prepare the potions only to have Marjorie's love life improve before they were ready. Her brother sent home money, but it almost never went far enough.

"I'll return next week," Marjorie announced, and she swept from Anya's cottage. Anya stepped outside and watched the other woman walk furtively down the road. Anya wondered if she would regret agreeing to help the other woman.

Sabin circled over her head and landed back on her shoulder.

* * * * *

Anya was in the middle of making lunch when two dirty children stumbled in through the door. Sabin sat on the back of a chair and cawed indignantly.

"Anya! Damani pushed me into the mud!" the little girl accused, pointing a dirty finger at her brother.

"Anya! Kallie's lying again!" he shouted back.

"Both of you; go out to the well and wash up for lunch," Anya said, not even bothering to look at her younger siblings. It was perfectly normal for the twins to bicker over everything, yet they were inseparable. They were also surprisingly compliant on occasion, she thought, as they went outside and did as Anya asked without complaint.

She was glad they had been out playing when Marjorie had come. Anya was used to the way people treated her. It had long since ceased to bother her. They were offspring of a warlock and she was a witch besides. Anya understood that most of the prejudice stemmed from ignorance and she had simply learned not to be bothered by those who did not understand her talents.

She watched as the twins tumbled back into the room. Seven years her juniors, they were both adorable children with angelic faces when they were not fighting. She had trouble understanding how people felt afraid of two innocent children.

Of course, terrible things were said about witches and warlocks. Perhaps the ignorant believed them to be true of every individual even slightly related.

Anya stirred the pot of stew while she mused about the beliefs of the ignorant. They said that witches and warlocks used "external" magic, that they were users of magic who stole their powers from places where they had no business drawing.

Thieves of magic.

It was barely true. She had inherent magic just as wizards did, but she used her magic to borrow magic from things in the world around her. Like a seamstress, she took all the magic borrowed and sewed the magic together to create the desired effect.

It was true that there was a dark side of her kind of powers. If a witch so desired, she truly could do terrible things. It was where the fear came from originally she supposed, because the sum of all the parts of a witch's curse or charm could create something far greater than anything a wizard could do.

There were also the unfortunate cases where an evil witch or warlock had used a wizard's own inherent magic against their will. It almost always ended badly for the wizard. It was no great wonder that wizards despised them. People hated anything they could not control. A witch could control a wizard's much prized magic.

Not that Anya would ever do such a thing. Her father had been a moral warlock and she had learned everything that she knew from him. Of course, Anya did borrow magic from the plants, herbs and occasional animal she used, but she could not see how that was worse than eating them.

There was also the business with Sabin. She did sometimes use his magic, but he was her familiar and he was not bothered by it.

As if sharing magic was a bad thing! It only hurt a creature if it was unwilling and one drained it too much. Only humans were ever unwilling because animals could sense her intent, so her magic truly was harmless.

Unless one counted a love potion being used on an unsuspecting victim as harmful.

Anya had never before been pressed into making one. She knew the theory well enough. It was an easy charm. But she was not certain it was quite ethical.

However, she had already agreed, so she would make the potions. She almost hoped Marjorie would renegade on their agreement, but she really did need the money. Her elder brother worked so hard and she had to do her part as well. There was so much to pay back.

The debt.

She did not like thinking about it.

Kallie and Damani ran back into the house. "Sit down at the table. Lunch is almost ready," she instructed. She listened idly to the twin's chattering as she finished the stew and poured it into wooden bowls.

She set it in front of them.

"Carrots?" Damani whined.

"I like carrots," Kallie taunted him.

"Just eat. I'm going to need your help after lunch."

Kallie's ears perked up. "Another potion?"

Anya nodded as she put a bowl for Sabin. He cawed his thanks.

"What kind of potion?" asked Damani as he picked around the carrots.

"A love potion."

Damani's nose wrinkled. "Why would anyone pay for that?"

Anya smiled. "Everyone is different."

She really could not imagine why herself. She would not want someone who did not want her.

She supposed that Marjorie saw her husband as something of a trophy she wished to hang on to. Perhaps there was some status to having the most handsome husband in the village, even if he was a bit of an idiot. Or perhaps she was worried that he would leave her. The world was notoriously difficult for a woman abandoned.

Anya was thankful for her brother, because that might have been her fate. With two younger siblings to care for, she likely would not have been able to keep their cottage if not for his help. It was just a shame his job required him to be gone for such long periods of time.

Of course, he did not have a choice. If they did not continue to pay the debt off, she did not know what would happen. She wished it had never been begun.

If only her mother had not gotten sick. Her father had borrowed large sums of money, trying everything to make her well. It had all been in vain. Her mother had died in spite of all the treatments and her father had died only scant years later. He had loved his wife so much she supposed he could not live without her.

She just wished that he had loved his children enough that he would not have left them to live without him.

Anya sat in a chair and began to methodically spoon stew into her mouth. She forgave her father. He was human, just as they all were.

"So what sort of ingredients should we look for?" Kallie asked. She was already almost done her stew.

Anya thought through her mental list. "We'll need a few bushels of wild mint and some rosemary, to start with. I'll have to inventory what is out in the shed for the rest of the ingredients. After you two are done eating, you can go and find them for me."

Kallie jumped up. "I'm done already! I'll go get a basket."

"Me too!" Damani announced.

"Eat your carrots first."

"I hate carrots," he complained, but he started to eat them, gingerly nibbling at the edges.

Kallie returned with a basket. "You're not done yet? You are so slow, Damani."

Damani shoveled the rest in his mouth. "No, I'm not," he said with his mouth full of carrots. He jumped to his feet and stood beside his twin. Anya ignored his lack of manners.

Anya was hit with a wave of affection for both. "You two are the best assistants I could have," she told them, and ruffled their hair. She felt a momentary twinge of guilt for teaching them the art of external magic, but as they were the children of a warlock they bore the sigma regardless of what she taught them. They might as well pick up some useful skills.

Anya watched as they charged back out the door. The twins looked as much alike as a boy and a girl could. They shared the same color of brown hair, and they both had beautiful chocolaty eyes. They rather looked a lot like Anya and their eldest brother, as well.

She wished he would come home soon.

* * * * *

Author's Note:

Thanks for starting this one!  😁

Monday, Wednesday, Friday updates again for this one!