CHAPTER ONE

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‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ CHAPTER ONE ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙
sweet mother, sweet mother

      THE DARK BROTHERHOOD always answered a prayer to the Dread Mother

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   THE DARK BROTHERHOOD always answered a prayer to the Dread Mother. A mixture of blood and fire would accompany each prayer, a singular purple flower in the centre of the circle. Fingers stained red and black, blood and soot, and the ever-flowing words that left the mouth like a simple conversation between friends:

   Sweet Mother, sweet Mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptised in blood and fear.

   Rennen had let those words fall from her mouth many times as a child, a combination of prayers and screams into the night. The scent of soot and blood was fresh on her nose and the tips of her fingers as the scent of the forest threatened to overpower it. And, in the distance, the commotion from the harbour. If she focused enough, she could remember the way the assassin stepped into the clearing and asked for what she prayed for.

   She would be doing the same to a child that was the same age as she when she first prayed.

   Rennen stepped forward from the darkness, letting the wooden floor creak beneath her weight. "What did you pray for?" She let her eyes fall onto the charred bones on the floor, the purple flower in the centre right next to the human heart. Then, she looked up at the child.

   The child was no older than thirteen, with hair the colour of autumn's hay and eyes as bright as the stormy ocean. "Who-who are you?"

   Rennen pointed at the human heart with her chin. "I'm the one who answers your prayers, child." She had grown accustomed to the scent of fresh blood and burnt skin and the deadly flower, almost like a personal perfume that embedded itself onto her skin. "What did you pray for?"

   The child rose to her feet and took one step forward before stopping abruptly. She held her hands in front of her, wringing her fingers together before grabbing at her skirts and doing the same with the cloth. "I-I want..."

   "You want?" Rennen arched a brow. "You must tell me what you prayed for, child, so I can answer."

   "Degreved," the child finally said, looking straight at the assassin. She let her hold of her skirts fall and her arms stood rigid at her sides. "His na-name is Degreved. He's the butcher's son, you see, and he..." Her eyes lowered to the floor, towards the candles that illuminated the room. Everywhere except the assassin.

   "He did something to you," Rennen said, watching the child carefully. She knew what boys and men were capable of when it came to a young girl who could barely defend herself when it came to their desires. Many times had she answered a prayer that was the same.

   The child nodded. "He..."

   Rennen shook her head and raised a hand to stop her from continuing her words. "You don't need to continue," she said. "I know well what men do."

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 | THE WITCHERWhere stories live. Discover now