Transporting myself inside the war room, a deep scowl was already etched on my face. Elijah was already sitting in one of the chairs of the oval table, dressed still in his travel clothes. Agotta, or the realm of the witches, was a fifteen-day ride by horseback and five days lesser when traveled in wolf form. There were two gates through it when a visitor wishes to cross. It cuts the travel time in just a day, but even then, it would still cost the traveler tired muscles and a whole lot of migraine.
That was exactly the second reason why I didn’t want to visit that place. The first was simply because that realm was filled with women. The first and last time I visited Agotta was with my father when I was young. Like Ehnrelil, I couldn’t stomach how glimmering and bright their world looked.
Elijah had volunteered to be my vassal when dealing with the witches and I was under the impression he had enjoyed each of his visit there. Our magical food and the ability to be already wearing clothes post shift were one of the many gifts given to him by the witches. Of course, despite my refusal, he talked me into accepting them for the benefit of the general ′were′ community.
Staring at him now, he didn’t look like he suffered complications post travel, but he wasn’t the usual jovial man either.
“Speak,” I started, my voice almost sounding like a growl. I sat at the head chair and glared at him, ready to execute my anger at a moment’s notice. “But I’ll warn you ahead, Elijah, make your report count.”