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“I felt strange when I first saw your servant. She gives off an energy.” I confide in my mother. She smirks. “What does it feel like?” “Like ghosts dancing upon my skin.” I say quietly. “She is a witch. She hails from our tribe, though from a lesser line.” She says. “So will my skin always tingle when I’m near a witch?” I ask, confused. My mother laughs heartily. “No!” She finally manages to say between giggles. “Well, maybe. Every witch senses things differently. It’s hard to say what you can or cannot sense without time and observation. Our powers are things we grow into. Some are more powerful than others in sensing energies and intentions.” “Hm. So how do I interpret these feelings and signs?” I ask. “Your guardian will help guide you. Only she knows how you access the source.” She explains. “So why did you buy a witch at market?” I ask, changing the subject. “She needs entrance to the Moon Ceremony. She is also vying to achieve our tribe’s purpose. I think she me
Seducing a man in front of my mother, in my mother’s room, a man employed by my mother— has never been on my list of things to do. I have been taught that being modest, quiet, and chaste is the only way to honor your mate. Be a clean canvas, untouched by any other paintbrush, so he can make you exactly as he wishes. I suppose I still live the spirit of modesty and chastity if I only violate the boundaries in my thoughts. I feel as though I am deserving of such a concession as men do not have to follow the same principles of chastity. My mother wraps her evening robe around her nightgown. It’s a heavy forest green velvet with fur lining at the cuffs and collar all along the front edge of the robe. The sleeve a long bell shape, dramatic and moody, my mother’s figure is dwarfed by its proportions. Even after marriage the emphasis on modesty persists, perhaps even more so. Her hair perfectly plaited, her skin glows even without makeup, she is captivating. She pulls a small satchel from
“Theia. You can call me Theia. I will not tolerate being called ‘dog’.” Theia says with a serious tone. She stands with an authoritative and rigid stance. Not overtly aggressive, but certainly ready to defend. “Hello, Theia.” The guardian drawls slowly. The tone is bordering on mocking, but not outwardly disrespectful. “It is important for us to guard our true names fiercely. In order to do this, Theia; you will have to allow me to bestow a true name upon you. We are linked together and cannot pull each other apart, to do so would be our demise.” The guardian says solemnly. Theia scoffs. “What do you mean?” I ask, hoping for clarity. Everything is foreign to me in this world. I expected to have a wolf, but everything else is a mystery. “When witches are made, the Goddess pulls a thread from the witches of the past, in order to weave a new witch into the tapestry. A small thread of life is borrowed from our energy, the thread breathes life into the new witch, and the two spi
The moon looms large in the sky. I have seen it for the last few days, a little fuller each day, sometimes even visible before nightfall. It hangs like a pocket watch, steadily keeping the pace, the arms of time racing towards midnight, the rhythmic tics of a bomb about to explode. The full moon is only a few days away. Seems like all the stars collide then. My powers set to more clearly manifest, a naming ceremony, a potential mate, Theia and I fully realizing our bond— destiny and lines of power converging, all colliding with one another at the same point in time. My witch, my wolf, and myself all coming together, a triad of energies intertwined, forever woven into the tapestry of life, together. I shift my focus from the sky to the woods. The window in my mothers suite is fit for viewing but not escaping. The woods are thick and dark. It’s hard to see anything with true clarity after twenty paces past the tree line. The woods seem to swallow everything, even the light. Why do th
The Great Mother reaches towards me, instructing me to follow her. I reach towards her hand and grasp it, eager to leave the circle now shrouded in silence. She leads me down a path deeper into the woods. A small trail marked by moss and mushrooms, cuts through the thick brush and dark trees. Snakes lay in wait under the oak trees camouflaged by leaves and debris, foothold traps begging to be sprung. The further we venture from the fire, the darker it becomes. My eyes are struggling to adjust. She pulls me down a steep embankment and we trudge through deep rocks, small and rounded, clanking together like marbles as we cut our path through. My thick robe dragging in the muck leaving a smooth trail in my wake. “This will be cold.” The Great Mother says, before we plunge into the river to cross it. The stones slick and smooth, tiny minnows and slippery grass tickle my ankles, making me feel unsteady. The current is strong and the sound of a waterfall rushes in the distance. My cloak d
The Great Mother clasps my hand tightly and leads me along the path. We do not cross any river nor do I hear any waterfall rumbling in the distance. A short walk through the thick trees and the circle is again visible, the fire more subdued, providing a warm glow of light painting shadows across the clearing in the trees. My mother stands at the fire, staring intensely at the dancing flame. Several men and women standing near, talking to each other and her, but she does not seem to pay any mind to their words. As we step from the shadows into the reach of the fire’s glow, silence falls. My mother’s eyes snap to mine, scanning me and the Great Mother for any clues of what has happened. “Let us welcome our new sister to the coven. The Goddess Hecate has smiled upon her and we shall embrace her with open arms!” The Great Mother says loudly. “Blessed be!” The crowd gathered calls back. “Blessed be!” The Great Mother echos in refrain. “The Blood Moon is to be auspicious for our dear
“Steer clear of that line.” My mother said as we stepped back into her room through her chalk door portal. “Constance and her ilk are nothing but trouble. None of her witchlings ever made it to ascension, only her boy survived.” She said with little compassion for the gravity of her words. “What a pity to have your line reduced to a stud.” Her tone devoid of pity. “Who?” I ask, still trying to absorb all that has occurred. “Constance. The last one we were speaking to. Honestly, Ceres. How can I teach you if you do not pay attention?” She asks. Her tone is sharp and biting. “Kai— Anchises and his mother?” I correct myself. My mother laughs heartily. “You will learn soon we care little for men.” She says after several hearty laughs. “A coven is not a packhouse, men carry no power. Their value is in forming alliances and gaining power in marriage.” “Do you not bow to your alpha?” I snap back. Her smile fades. “I do what I must to protect what is mine.” An uncomfortable silen
Breakfast comes too quickly. I did not rest enough and I am sure it shows on my face. My mother, Marica, and I sit at a small table by the fire, as we did last night. The men find themselves at the long table of the night before as well. They are not in the same high spirits, a night filled with ale and the excitement of the tree branch clearly weighing on them this morning. I silently sip my coffee, hoping it will give me the energy I need to push through the day. A bowl of oat slop in front of me, completely unappealing and beige. After several heaps of honey, I force feed myself a few bites so I have some strength. “Captain Keegan.” My mother calls to the captain as she stirs her coffee. “Yes, Luna Osiris.” He responds by bowing at our table side. I have felt his eyes lingering upon me this morning. I’m unsure if it is the truth or paranoia, but I believe I have felt his eyes linger on me at every opportunity. Even now he looks toward me as he stands from his bow. “My lady’s