When did we allow for this to happen? When did we allow evil to walk among us, and not raise a finger against it? When were feelings and emotions valued more than the sanctity of human life? When did we refuse to call evil by it's name?
***
Twenty years ago
***
Skaria frowned, staring at the poppet. "It's not working," she said. The other poppet, across the table, didn't move. "It's not working, ma'am," she said. "I'm trying. But I just can't do it."
"Fine." The woman -Desidra- picked up the poppets. "You're hopeless. Go. Begone from here."
The girl rushed away from the table, running. Desidra had a bad habit of trying to encourage people using a willow switch. She was fond of punishment, and her harsh face rarely knew a smile. She was committed to the Art, and had the deep hatred of the Other, the deep hatred only the devout possessed.
Skaria passed through the courtyard of the great keep. Venden's Hold used to be a tiny little village; but the discovery of a few veins of copper ore changed all that. At least, that was what the Elders had said. But the growth had turned the village from a few wooden hovels to upper-class dwellings and a large stone castle. That castle, the one that towered above her, all spires and coronets, had been abandoned, but now the Sisters kept it. And someday, Skaria would keep it as well.
She rushed into the hall of the castle. It was a small castle, she had been told, but to the ten year old girl it was huge. Statues of knights and fair maidens lined the hall, the marble now pitted and rough. She had always liked walking down through there. The maidens all had kind faces and smiling lips. They didn't hit her when she messed up.
She crossed the hall and stopped at an oak door, pushing it slightly ajar. She closed her eyes and listened. Nothing. No voices carried down the tower interior. Skaria looked behind her. No one was watching her. She slipped in and silently closed the door.
Skaria had always called it the Tower of Stars. It was always dusty, and the golden sunlight made the dust sparkle and shimmer. Skaria smiled. This was her favorite spot, where none of the Elders could find her. They couldn't catch her misbehaving, or punish her for not being good enough.
Climbing the circular stairs, Skaria was quiet as a mouse. The Elders didn't like her up here. Once, when they caught her snooping around the door, before she had dared to muster the courage to enter, they had switched her so hard she couldn't sit down for two days. Of course, that made the need to know what lied behind the door all the more potent.
After ages of climbing, Skaria reached the top. A heavy oaken door, studded with an old, dark metal, stood up at the top of the tower. And in it was burned a strange symbol, a circle with curved glyphs inside it.
Skaria pushed the door open, as quiet as possible. The Elders wouldn't be happy if they heard her entering this chamber. No, they would definitely not be happy. The willow switch would be the least of her worries.
There was a man there. Skaria had been frightened of him the first time, not knowing what he was. But, fortunately for her, the fear of the unknown hadn't trumped the fear of what the Sisters would do to her. And, after he explained roughly what he was, Skaria was calm again.
He looked up in fear, before his face softened. "Oh, it's just you, Skaria," Magnus said. His unkempt black beard and long hair made him look like the savages in the stories the Sisters told her and the other girls. Of course, unlike the stories, he didn't try to seize and ravage her. "Close the door, dear," he said.
Skaria shut the door, looking around Magnus's little home. A thin cot was covered by notes written in a bizarre language. A glass orb seemed to dance with a thousand shimmering lights inside it. Unlike the magic of the Sisters, this was beautiful. This didn't leave her sick when she saw it done.
"What brought you up here?" Magnus asked politely, turning away from his work, smiling at her.
"Sister Desidra was angry at me," Skaria said. "I couldn't kill a poppet. It just...didn't feel right."
"It's bad to kill," Magnus said.
"No, not like that." Skaria sighed. "It's like, I don't know. It just felt wrong. Like hurting yourself. It felt bad to do."
Magnus paused. "Can you say something for me, Skaria?" he asked, quietly. Skaria leaned in, as he whispered words into her ear, his beard scratching ever so slightly.
The words whispered into her, smooth as silk. She couldn't remember them, oddly enough. It was like her mind had erased them. She thought, before babbling something out. "Eoym nosah, kilesh manai," she said.
Magnus's eyes widened. "No. That's not possible," he said wtih a smile. "That's not bloody possible!" He roared with laughter. "That's why!" He pointed to Skaria. "You're not designed to use their witchcraft." His face lit up with joy. "You're not a witch. You're a sorceress."
"I'm a what?" Skaria asked.
"You have power. Power in words, a gift inborn. Skaria, the likes of you haven't been seen since the fall of Elysion!"
"Elysion?" Skaria asked. The Sisters had chastised her and three other girls after they had spoken the name of the Wretched Kingdom. The name felt foreign on her lips. But it was a good kind of foreign.
"Your kind give life to words. They speak, and the universe answers you." He rose off his seat, the dirty robes he wore scraping against the floor. It creaked, ever so slightly, as he ventured across it, hunting down a book. His fingers flitted away at the old, age-worn tomes.
There was a knock at the door. "Magnus!" someone shouted from behind it. A Sister! Magnus's eyes widened. "Skaria," he said in a forced whisper. "Hide!"
Her heart began to beat faster. Thu-thump. The box wasn't big enough to hold her. Thu-thump. That casket would have plenty of room, but there was something about it that had her illl-at-ease. Thu-thump. The urn was too small. Thu-thump. That wardrobe, however, could work.
Skaria opened the wardrobe, stepped in, and closed the door quietly. She moved to the back, closing her eyes. The ratty old robes surrounded her, shielding her from whoever was in there.
"Come in!" Magnus said. The door opened. "Ah, Sister Florina! What do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
"Shut up, pig," Florina snapped. "Are they done?"
There was a silence, before Magnus moved. The floor creaked, and paper shuffled. Magnus moved again. "There," he said. "It's all there."
There was a silence as Sister Florina shuffled through the papers. She stopped shuffling. "It's not here."
"Come again?" Magnus asked.
"The sigil activation matrix. It's not here," Florina said. "What are you trying to do?"
"Nothing," Magnus protested, before there was a sharp thump. Skaria winced. Magnus hissed. "I swear, I'm not doing anything!"
Florina stopped for a moment. "I'll have the Sisters check this out. If we find out that are trying to double-cross us, you pig, you'll be sorry." There was the sound of footsteps, and Skaria exhaled.
She waited for a minute, before opening the wardrobe. Magnus sat down on the chair, looking ragged and worn. "Are you alright?" she asked.
"Not while I'm here," he said. He closed his eyes and exhaled. "Skaria, I need you to do something for me," he said.
"What?"
"You know the copper mines?" Magnus asked. Skaria nodded. "I need you to go down to them, see what is in them. You have to know."
"Alright..." Skaria said, confused. "Why do I have to know?" she asked.
"Trust me," Magnus said. "And one day, you might forgive me," He paused. "Wait here. Otherwise, you'd run into the Sister." Skaria nodded. "I need you out of the castle for a bit. Fresh air will do you good."
***
The grass was a brighter green about the cave entrance. Strange. Every time she took a forbidden venture out here, the grass seemed more vivid than inside. Maybe she was just used to it.
The cave seemed inviting to her, beckoning her to come in, to explore it's forbidden depths. Torches dotted the inside. Skaira took a deep breath, before walking down, slowly, almost fearfully. She was treading on dangerous ground. Even a ten-year old knew that.
She kept walking, moving from one light to another. She was deep in, now, deep down in the bowels of the earth. Whatever had been hidden down here, it probably was close. Skaria could smell the copper in the air. She could see the veins of the red metal in the wall.
She walked in, and then she felt it. Something stonelike against her foot. But not stone. It was hard and strong, but too light. Skaria kicked it out, sending it flying, but the telltale flash of white betrayed what it was. Bone.
Skaria looked around her. What she had thought were circular stones were, in fact skulls. They leered at her, their permanent smiles teasing her. And they were so small! Skaria couldn't take it.
She bent down, vomiting. These weren't normal skulls. These were the skulls of children! And, more disturbingly, each one bore a crack down its skull. This wasn't a mine.
It was a tomb. A tomb for a massacre.
Skaria felt her stomach, finally empty, simply feeling queasy. She had to get out of there. The stench of her own bile was making her sick. It was disgusting. But it gave her answers. She had asked Magnus where all the boys were. He didn't answer her. Now, she knew.
As she exited the cave, she felt a rumbling. Looking at the castle, she stared. Jets of flames burst from the windows. The Sisters were in there. Once. Skaria looked at the castle, the place that had been her home for ten years. The place where she had learned of her new power, even if only a few useless snippets.
Then, she turned and ran, fleeing into the forest, leaving it behind.