The change in scents almost kept him from falling asleep, but eventually he drifted off into a deep dreamless slumber. While Pieder slept, the Witch crept through the house with a glass vial and something small and squishy inside of it. She wiped a spot behind Pieder's left ear with alcohol, then carefully poured the soft, squishy substance onto the freshly cleaned piece of skin. The squishy thing writhed and wriggled, then settled and grew flabbier and flabbier as its fluids flowed into Pieder's blood. It was a sort of leech, tiny and with the single purpose of placing the Witch's potions into Pieder's body. By the time Pieder awoke, it would have fallen off and be nothing more than a desiccated flake of soon to be dust by his head. Gross perhaps, but harmless and not the sort of thing that would induce panic in any but the most paranoid. Anyone who came even half willingly to live with the Witch could hardly be called paranoid.
Pieder awoke with sunlight streaming into his eyes from a skylight placed slightly to the east of directly overhead. He blinked several times, desperately wanting to roll over and hide in his surprisingly comfy cot, but impelled by some inexplicable force to rise and dress. He made his way through the house uncertainly, feeling the slightest bit grimy in comparison to the startlingly clean surfaces surrounding him.
"Hello," a warm alto voice greeted him when he stood cautiously at the door to what he was bizarrely certain was the Witch's sleeping chamber.
"Hello?" Pieder tried to say, but only managed to whisper faintly.
"I'm not actually speaking," the voice said, it's tone a smile.
Pieder stood frozen, his eyes glassed over in terror.
"Yes, I am the Witch of the Wood. And this is a small taste of the magic you will encounter during your stay with me. Now walk through the door and help me out of my bed, boy."
Pieder felt a tug on his arm and gentle push against the small of his back. He stumbled forward, then found his feet carrying him through the doorway and into the tall yet oddly cozy room with the Witch's grand bed against one wall. A desk sat against the opposite wall with a wooden chair that looked grown rather than carved. Between them was the doorway in which he stood and a doorway opposite him which led to a shadowy chamber smelling strongly of soap and fresh hot water.
"You have questions," the voice (the Witch, Pieder supposed) stated. "Ask them. And help me get to my morning bath."
Pieder was bubbling with questions, but fear kept them at bay. Except, suddenly his fear felt more distant and the questions crept to the forefront of his mind. This made him more anxious than anything else.
"What have you done to me?" he asked somewhat petulantly.
"Made you my apprentice," the Witch answered cryptically. "Put your hands under my arms and lift." The Witch reached out to him with her stubbed fingers and a grimace of faint pain. Perhaps her joints ached, or she simply disliked waking.
Pieder obeyed her despite his many misgivings. He was not certain if he was under a spell to obey or if he was actually helping her of his own accord. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to trust his instincts again. He felt betrayed by his parents, by his body, by his mind, by this terrifying creature that he was now helping out of bed and into a bathing chamber that sank into the lower part of the shell house.
"Ah, that is quite a mouthful," the Witch sighed. "Yes, of course you can trust yourself. And no one has betrayed you. Your emotions are being toyed with a bit right now, it is true, and I cannot help it directly. Last night I cast a spell of sorts; gave you a potion that would soothe your fears and a different potion that would allow us to communicate more effectively than gestures. Both will wear off eventually. Your ability to feel fear and anxiety fully will return within the next day or so. The other I do not know a time frame on, as I have never used it before and it is a potion of my own creation so no one else has used it either."
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