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Chapter 12
After a lengthy spell class the witches were back at the dinning hall.
"I think I'm starting to doubt. . ." Ochen said skeptically.
Dea picked on her crepes as she waited for Ochen to continue.
"I think I couldn't possibly be the royal witch, partly because I was unable to draw myself being one in the distinct future. ."
As Ochen spoke on, Dea nodded committedly, offering consoling remarks once in a while.
When Ochen had gone quiet she swept her gaze over the witches in the hall and wondered, again, if they had a similar prediction to hers.
Her perusal ended on the somber witch beside her, and for some reason she spoke to her. "I love your hair."
The dark haired witch slowly turned towards her, like she didn't expect anyone to be speaking to her.
"I love your hair," Dea repeated, "my hair couldn't possibly attain such g
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