Chapter 146: Brandon and the Witch
The witch wasn't like anyone Brandon had seen before. For one, she hid her aged face behind a youthful illusion.
She was not like Sylvan, he realized. Not someone who was doomed to die looking young, even when he was as old as time itself.
No, Agatha was cooking something. Brandon looked at her with narrow eyes. What did she need a bog moss that smelled so bad that it must have been fermented for at least four days for?
And… that barrel over there, by the fire.
Brandon could swear that Agatha had filled it with water and dirty stones when she had captured him.
"You see, dragon," the witch began as she began to take out ladles made from…
Brandon blinked.
The ladles were too white to be out of anything but bones!
"Solas made a fool out of my darling boy," the delusional woman began, as the green fireflies buzzed around her.
One landed in her hair. Brandon watched the little insect.
