ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛɪᴜs ᴄᴏᴠᴇɴ ?
ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴɢ ғᴜ-ᴄʜᴀɪ ᴄᴏᴠᴇɴ?
sᴛᴇɴᴍᴀʀᴋ ᴄᴏᴠᴇɴ ?
ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴍᴏᴏɴ ᴘᴀᴄᴋ?
The Dang Fu- Chai and Aventius coven were Witches, known to be the most powerful of their kind.
The Stenmark coven were Vampires, known to be the first un-dead creatures...
SONG: OF MICE & MEN - WOULD YOU STILL BE THERE ____________ ____________________________________
WARNING: SCREAM ROCK
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LANA AVENTINUS🌻
For centuries my kind have been in war. If it wasn't with the humans, it was with the vampires. If we weren't fighting the vampires, then we were battling the werewolves. You give a name, and I bet theirs a story of my kind fighting that species.
People just never seem to like us, no matter what we do. They hear the stories and they immediately dislike us. So, this whole, meeting up with werewolves and vampires just didn't make any sense.
Don't get me wrong, I'm all for making peace, but why do I have to go? What importance will Lana Aventinus have? I'll just be sitting there, listening to them chatter about coming together, how it will benefit each other- and not to brag, how strong our coven is.
None of those topics seems to peek my interest, and I'd rather be reading a book than having to listen to it.
But that's not the only thing stopping me. I'm not stable. My mind and powers continue to nod off between good and bad, and I can't control it. It's not good for me, or the people on the other side.
"Lana, have you finish packing?!" My aunt yelled from the bottom of the stairs.
"Yes, I'm bringing my bag down right now!" I said grabbing the heavy black suitcase that sat in the corner of my room.
It was easy to wheel it over to the staircase; the hard part was bringing it down the stairs.
I was on my fifth descending step, when my dear ole' cousin decided to let his presence be known. "You have magic for a reason 'cuz." He said passing by me with a red apple in his hand. "Use it." He said shrugging his shoulder.
"You gon' become a magic addict if you keep continuing to use yo' magic for everything." I said warning him.
Rolling his eyes, he simply said "whatever", before grabbing hold of my suitcase, and helping me bring it down.
"Thanks 'cuz." I said kissing him on his cheek.
"Your welcome." He said before he disappeared. Disappeared as in poof! Gone.
'He don't listen.' My inner voice, said.
'Tell me about it." I huffed.
A addicta est magicae(magic addict) Wiccan is pretty much a Wiccan that relies on their power so much that they go mad. Every small task they do they use magic. It gets to the point where they forget how to do small day to day task. This addiction usually leads to them craving new spells, and when a Wiccan wants more power, they do some nasty shit to get it.
