4. The Witches' Plans
Miranda watched Daurien from her home, hidden from all things mortal. She saw him spot a girl at the London Library and, entranced by her beauty, tell the mirror to follow her. Miranda quickly used her powers to project one of her ears to Earth so that she could listen to the memories that the girl's bones whispered. In an instant she knew all that the girl had been through.
She was from a land across the sea from Britain which was the only place Miranda had lived on Earth that she had ever considered home. The girl missed that land dearly and did not have companions in London whence she currently lived. She was sad, lonely, and unaccustomed to the less than ideal London weather. She had left her whole life behind when she had moved to London and was miserable.
The more Miranda listened to the 17 years worth of memories that the girl's bones whispered about, the more she was convinced of one thing above all. This girl was goodhearted. Despite her fierce beauty rivaling even with that of the witches, she was undoubtably beautiful on the inside. It seemed that the girl did not realize how truly beautiful she was. This was very likely due to the fact that she had only grown beautiful during the last few years and had been picked on as a child for being quite ugly since she was very young.
Miranda listened carefully to every selfless deed the girl had done and made a list in her head. She was always kind to the less fortunate. She would put herself at risk no matter the peril, in order to help someone she cared for. She was honest, caring and always did her best to see the best in others. She always tried notjudge anyone before she truly knew them. But would it be enough?
She could see the change in Daurien that had occurred over time. He was no longer ice cold as he was when she had placed the spell upon him and she could feel, smell, hear, taste and see it with everything she had. She had grown to love him herself, almost like a brother and how she wished she could reverse the spell. She hated seeing him in so much despair now that he held her affection and she did her best to visit him as often as she could.
He was not perfect, oh far from it. He would roar and growl and try to strangle her on some of her visits, but she came all the same. He could not harm her more than he could touch a star and besides, he always apologized eventually. He craved her company, she knew he appreciated her visits. He simply lost his temper from time to time. It was understandable, seeing as his life had been stagnant for centuries.
Recently however, she could feel his patience and what little hope he had dwindle and she knew that soon enough he would try to end his curse by ending his life. She knew that time was running out. She saw how his heart lit bright as he watched the girl and she knew that she had to help him. She could not make her love him, nor make him love her, or even help them love each other. She could, however, help her find him and from there it would be left to fate.
She saw the girl pass the folklore section at the library and planted a small seed of interest in her head about a book that held a legend about Rose Manor. She read the legend and as she was pondering it's credibility, Miranda gave her a dream. The girl sank into a light slumber and in her dream she found Rose Manor. It was not meant to frighten her, but Miranda could not control the dream, only make it focus on Rose Manor. To control it, she would have had to enter the girl's dream while in her astral form, but she had not the desire to perform such draining magic at the present moment.
The following night, Daurien did not go to sleep. She watched him watch her the whole night as she tossed and turned restlessly. Miranda formed a plan that began with her planting an idea in the girl's father's mind. He would come to the forest where Daurien was hidden and the girl would come with him.
She called back to her ear which came in an instant and reattached itself to the side of her head beneath her waves of red and thought it would be so much simpler if she be nearer. She began to reminisc of the days when witches were welcome on Earth.
It was only about 200 years ago, when witch trails became plenty in the world. Before that, witches lived side by side with the humans and helped them in every way they could. But when the humans turned on them and witch trails became numerous, all the clans gathered in what was known as The Gathering for the Greater Good and formed their own world. They had decided that they were to leave the humans to fend for themselves for they were selfish beings that only tried to kill the witches, not that they could.
She sat beside her beloved sister who was chained to the wall by Miranda's own magic. Imagine! Imprisoned by her own sister! They were all fools, all cowardly fools! Even after all these decades, she was still filled with anger and humiliation. For decades meant nothing to her.
“My dear little sister,” said Miranda, “soon you will understand why the witches chose this fate for the time being.”
“Never!” replied Tatiana, “I do not understand, I will never understand.”
“It is for the Greater Good, Tati,” Miranda sighed.
“What Greater Good? All I see is that the most powerful creatures in the world are hiding away while the humans continue to destroy each other on Earth. Earth is our home as well. The humans are disgusting beings, they cannot even be good without our help.”
“It is likely that your opinions are true,” Miranda smiled at her sister's ignorance, “but the means by which you wish to achieve your goal are wrong. We cannot enslave the humans.”
“Of course we could, it would have been easy.”
“Look at you,” she moved closer to Tatiana and took her hands in hers. They were so small compared to Miranda's and Miranda could completely enclose them within her own.
No matter what age she appeared to be on the outside, Miranda always saw her in her true form. She was 11 witch years old while Miranda was 19, each witch year being decades of human years.
Miranda herself was much more mature than other witches her age. She thought that her heart might be about 40, rather than her meager 19. She had fallen in love, you see, with a warlock she had mistaken for good. It was a mistake that had cost her her childhood. She was only 16 and he used her ignorance.
Her heart ached as she remembered his deep purple eyes and his smooth white hair, his drastically sharp chin and cheekbones. They had only spent 132 human years together, which was nothing to an immortal, but who was counting anyhow?
He had tried to destroy her, to make her mortal, human. The thought disgusted her for though she loved the human race dearly, they were like pets to her. So pathetically flawed and childish were they, that she would rather die like a human than live like one.
He hadn't really wanted to hurt her, or so she had told herself hundreds of billions of times, simply wanted more power, which was understandable. He may have been evil but he had loved her. Oh, how she ached for this to be true.
The frustration on Tatiana's face which was indistinguishable to any mortal but obvious to Miranda, only grew. She leaned in and kissed the young witch's cheek affectionately. Tatiana's expression softened but not a single tear slid down her cheek, for though she was crying, tears were not of a witch's nature, except as part of a magical facade.
“I just want to go home,” she sniffled and buried her face in the side of her big sister's neck.
“I know Tati, me, too.”
“And I cannot stand these chains!” she tugged on them with a force that would have broken any human-made wall, no matter how thick.
“I'm sorry Tati, but the Witchdom Committee has forbidden your release and you know that,” she scolded, “I hate keeping you here like this, but you brought it upon yourself.” The younger witch smiled as she remembered her brilliant plan to sabotage the process of creating this land of exile, so many years ago. Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. If only she hadn't gotten caught.
Miranda smiled as well, knowing fully well what her sister was thinking of and shook her head slowly with affection.
“Miranda, it has been many years. I do not wish to cause you pain, but I have been ever so curious. You never told me what became of your warlock.” She frowned slightly but told her nonetheless.
“He was imprisoned, Tati, by my blood, only to be freed by my blood, deep within the Chambers of Fire. Oh, how it had pained me to do so to him, how his screams for mercy broke my heart.” Hearing this Tatiana both felt for her sister and beamed inside, for she shared her sister's blood. A new plan began to form in her hidden thoughts.