After the exorcism things had started to fall into routine. Father Blackwood had nearly excommunicated all of us for the transgression but my mother quickly intervened. She informed him that his wife, Lady Blackwood, was in fact pregnant with twins. Mom was the best midwife the coven had ever known, never once losing a babe, so when she assured him that she would be tending to his lady wife's every need he was quickly dissuaded from any thought of excommunication. After that she had been spending all her free time being the perfect midwife to Lady Blackwood. Aunt Hilda had gotten a job at the local coffee shop so during the day she had her responsibilities with the mortuary and worked her shifts at Dr. Cee's in the afternoons. Sabrina went to Baxter High during the day and the Academy afterwards. Ambrose sulked around the house still drowning in his melancholia, but what was new. I spent my time at the Academy during the daylight hours and at night I found myself wrapped up in the perfection that was Lilith. In my opinion things couldn't have been more perfect. That was until we came upon the Feast of Feasts. An awful excuse for a holiday if you ask me. It all started when Sabrina had come home late one night. "Aunties? Cousins? Can anyone explain why it looks like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre has been nailed to our door?" Sabrina shouted. We all stopped what we were doing, well aware of what it meant. Aunt Hilda snorted, "Oh, dear. I'll get some soap and sponges." Ambrose smiled clearly amused. Of course it was amusing for him, he was a warlock afterall. His neck was safe from the proverbial chopping block. "And I'll get a plastic bag to collect the lamb entrails," He smirked. I sighed, "I'll get the alcohol." My mother addressed Sabrina answering her previous question, "It's a message from the Council, Sabrina. It means our family's been selected to participate in this year's Feast of Feasts."
After collecting the entrails and thoroughly disinfecting our front door and surrounding areas we all sat gathered around the kitchen table. "Feast of Feasts, Sabrina, is one of our coven's holiest holidays. It's similar to mortal Thanksgiving but—" my mother began to explain. "The menu is slightly different," Ambrose interjected. My stomach turned at the thought of what Ambrose meant. "It's meant to honor the single greatest sacrifice a witch ever made to save her coven," Mom finished. Aunt Hilda joined us at the table, "Praise Sister Freya. May we meet again." Sabrina was still oh so oblivious, "Who's Freya?" Ambrose and I glanced at each other both knowing where this was going. "A queen amongst witches. Centuries ago, the 14 women belonging to the earliest incarnation of the Church of Night were chased out of the township of Greendale into the hills, the forest. Hilda," My Mother indicated for my Aunt to continue. "The men of Greendale had hunted all the animals. So, you know, really, there was nothing to eat," Aunt Hilda informed her. "The witches would've starved and died that winter, had it not been for the sacrifices of Freya, the youngest, strongest witch. She um..." Ambrose tried to explain. Sabrina still looked confused. I huffed, rolling my eyes, "Freya slit her own throat and offered up her body so the Coven would have sustenance through the cold months, into the spring." Realization finally dawned on Sabrina's face as everyone praised Freya. "Wait, are we seriously talking about cannibalism?," Sabrina questioned. Yes, yes we were. The Feast of Feasts made my skin crawl and my stomach churn. "It's not like the Donner party," Ambrose reasoned. "The Feast of Feasts is an annual demonstration of our devotion to the Dark Lord. Fourteen families from the coven are selected to participate in a, uh... uh... a lottery. The families then choose someone to represent them. A tribute, as it were," My mother elaborated. "Only ladies are eligible because—" Ambrose started. "It is the Dark Lord's will. In any case.. the 14 tributes draw lots to see who will win the honor of being queen," Mom finished. It was sick, honestly. I had always hated this holiday since Father Blackwood reinstated it. It had temporarily been banned when my uncle had been High Priest. "What do you get as queen?" Sabrina asked. "You get to be the main course," Ambrose answered, knocking on wood. I looked down at my glass carefully swirling the amber liquid before shooting it back and pouring myself another. "The queen is eaten? And witches participate in this willingly?" Sabrina asked in disbelief. "It is a sacred tradition. Our obligation is not to question, it is to obey and participate," My mother sighed. "But no one's starving anymore. And we're talking about murder here," Sabrina protested. "Ritual sacrifice. It's slightly different," Ambrose interjected. I cut my eyes at him. Now was not the time for witty quips. "Since Hilda's been excommunicated, only Sabrina, Nicole, and I are eligible for the lottery which means—" Mom started. "I'll do it. I'll represent the family this year," I cut her off. I had made my mind up the moment I saw the gory mess hung on our door. This was clearly some form of punishment from Faustus Blackwood. Not the will of the Dark Lord. My mother's face became deathly serious, "No, Nicole. I won't allow it. Besides, you always come down with a terrible case of Witch's flu this time of year. So I will be representing the family at tomorrow night's drawing." She left no room for argument. As she tried to stand from the table Sabrina grabbed her arm pulling her back down. "No, no, no. No. Aunt Zelda, you can't. What if you get picked? Aunt Hilda? Ambrose? Nicole? Back me up here! We Spellmans are an endangered species. I lost my mom and my dad... I don't want to lose you, too," Sabrina protested. My heart sank and I couldn't bear to look at my mom. Hot tears welled in my eyes as the memory of my Father lying lifeless came back to me. Now my mother too? Aunt Hilda wiped her own tears taking my hand and rubbed soothing circles along the back of it. "That's sweet, Sabrina... but your Aunt Hilda and I have participated in many lotteries over the years, and the Dark Lord has never seen fit to reward us with being queen. I have no reason to believe this year will be any different. So please, the Feast of Feasts is happening, and like it or not, we are participating," She said with finality, knocking back her own glass, grabbing the decanter and walking off.
The following day was somber. The day dragged by and the anticipation nearly crushed me. Surely this is what the Greendale thirteen felt as they walked to the gallows. I had already lost my Father and I would burn the Coven to the ground before I let them take my mother. When I arrived home I trudged upstairs to prepare for the night ahead. I detested this holiday so usually I would've feigned some illness so I would be exempt. However, my mother's life was on the line that night so I forced myself to go. After finishing my hair and makeup I moved to slip on my dress. The dress itself was sheer and nude in color with intricate gold accenting. The neckline plunged just enough to keep the mind wondering. I stood in front of my mirror attempting to pull myself together. "You know when Sabrina came to me asking questions about the Feast of Feasts I feared the worst," Came Lilith's sultry tone. My eyes found hers in the mirror. She looked tense and I softened. "It won't be me. My mother put herself forward," I explained softly. She relaxed slightly, stepping forward and drinking me in. "And you're worried for her," Lilith observed. Even though she wasn't yet touching me I could feel the heat rolling off her body. "Of course I am," I muttered. She reached up brushing my hair off my shoulder as her lips pressed at my pulse point before coming up to whisper in my ear, "Don't go doing anything irrational, darling." I forced myself not to fall into her right there. Instead I huffed petulantly, "I can't just sit by and do nothing." Of course Lilith would already know that I was planning something. Her hands snaked around my waist, "I won't lose you. Not to him." I studied our reflection in the mirror and I pondered whether she meant Blackwood or the Dark Lord himself. Maybe both. I turned in her arms facing her. "You won't," I murmured. She didn't seem convinced at all but chose instead to lighten the mood. "For someone who doesn't observe the Feast you've certainly dressed for the occasion. Is this all for the High Priest?," She smirked playfully as she traced a finger down my plunging neckline. Even as she said it the jealous hint in her eyes betrayed her playful tone. I smirked, wrapping my arms around her neck bringing my lips closer to hers, "No, Blackwood is only a man. I belong to the Dark Mother, a true Goddess. Is she pleased?" Lilith who's gaze had remained fixated on my dark painted lips flicked up to search my eyes pupils blown wide with desire. Instead of answering she captured my mouth with hers in a fiery kiss. I took that as a yes. As the last rays of the sun dipped below the trees I pulled away. "I have to go. I'll be expected at the desecrated church." Her grip on my waist tightened, "Swear to me you won't do anything reckless." Looking up at her and seeing the concern written across her features I couldn't tell her no. "I swear it," I whispered softly. She sealed it with a kiss that made me go weak in the knees. As I made my way downstairs my mother waited in the foyer. We walked silently through the Greendale woods not quite sure what to say. When the desecrated church loomed in the distance my mom stopped me. "If- If things don't go well tonight-," She started. I shook my head, "Mom, don't say things like that." She held up her hand stopping me, "It'll be up to you to carry on the Spellman legacy. Take care of the family. Especially Sabrina. See to it that she continues her education at the Academy and becomes a fully realized witch. You know what to do." Tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision. I cursed softly looking away from my mother not wanting her to see them. I never used to cry but it was becoming more frequent and it scared me. She gently lifted my gaze back to her, "I'm so proud of the witch you've become, my brave girl. Whatever may come we are Spellmans and Spellmans always see it through." I nodded, pulling myself back together, "I love you, Mom." She smiled tears of her own shining in her eyes, "And I you, my little flame. Now let's go." When we entered the church I scarcely recognized it. It was bathed in a warm golden glow that softened its usually hellish look. Probably to soothe the lamb going to slaughter. We made our way to the front where the other representatives waited at a long table lined with lit candles. Father Blackwood approached us donning his golden robes. I nearly cringed when his eyes raked over me from head to toe. "I must confess I didn't expect to see you here, Nicole," He took my hand pressing a kiss to my knuckles. I nearly gagged and the glare I received from Lady Blackwood did not go unnoticed. "Delighted to be here, Father. As Lilith's handmaiden it's imperative I observe all of our coven's traditions wouldn't you agree?," I bluffed. He smiled pleased with my answer, "Completely, my child. Shall we take our places? The drawing will begin shortly," He offered me his arm. I hesitantly took it, shooting one last glance at my mother. She gave me an encouraging nod before taking her place amongst the other tributes. I moved to pick up the lottery box but Lady Blackwood interjected quickly, taking it into her arms. "Lady Blackwood should you really be lifting something so heavy?" I questioned. She shot me a sickly sweet smile, "Don't you worry about me. I've got this handled." I rolled my eyes to myself before joining the High Priest. "Tonight we celebrate a time-honored tradition. The Feast of Feasts is a reminder that even the humblest amongst us can be lifted up to sit with the Dark Lord. And that the survival of the coven is greater than the life of any individual witch," He explained looking out over the congregation. Lady Blackwood opened the box and let each of the ladies pick their paper. My heart began beating rapidly as she drew nearer to my mother. Maybe it wasn't too late for me to step up and draw for the family. I knew I swore to Lilith I wouldn't do anything brash but I couldn't just let this happen. "Sisters, let the Dark Lord's will be revealed," Blackwood finished as we moved to step to the side. Just as I decided I couldn't take it anymore and was about to speak up, the doors to the Church flung open as Sabrina rushed inside. "Stop!" she shouted. Murmurs broke out amongst the crowd as everyone turned towards her. "I'll draw for the Spellman family." Honestly I don't know why anyone was surprised at that point by Sabrina's last minute theatrics. "Sabrina, what in Satan's name are you doing?" My mother hissed. "I'm upholding a beloved tradition, Aunt Zelda, unless, of course, you want to admit that this whole thing is barbaric, as my father believed!" She was certainly playing a dangerous game. Father Blackwood stepped in front of her, "Sister Zelda, is there a problem?" More murmurs broke out amongst the crowd and I could tell her hands were tied. Sabrina looked at her expectantly but was shocked by her next words. "No, your excellency. My brave niece would like to represent the family this year. So, Sabrina, by all means, go ahead," she said, stepping down and breezing past Sabrina, "Select your paper." Sabrina took her place in line. Her face was a ghostly white and she clearly didn't expect this would be the outcome of her actions. She tentatively chose her paper. Once everyone had drawn, the High Priest banged his cane on the ground twice. "Burn them," He commanded a little smirk playing on his lips. We all waited with bated breath as each slip went up in flame. Sabrina's paper let off a scarlet smoke signifying she would play the role of shepherd and next to her Prudence's burned white crowning her our next Queen of the Feast. She sobbed happily as the High Priest announced her new title. Applause broke out amongst the crowd and I noticed my mom let out a sigh of relief. Prudence stepped down where her sister's waited to congratulate her. I signaled for the congregation to stand as Father Blackwood and I stood on either side of her. "All Hail, Queen of the Feast," I praised. The crowd echoed, "All Hail, Queen of the Feast." Both the High Priest and I lifted Prudence's hands above her head in victory. "Kneel before your Queen!" Blackwood shouted. Immediately everyone dropped to one knee bowing. And so Prudence became the next sacrifice.
