"thou shalt not suffer a witch to live"
Exodus - 22:18
2010
It was midsummer. A warm day with only the occasional breeze. The manor was awake with life, jasmine wafting in the air, carried through scented candles, and soft whispering echoed in the forlorn hallways. Light streamed in through open windows, offering a comfortable and warm embrace.
Most witches from all seven circles, of the United Kingdom and the Republic of Ireland, were present. Festivities were being held in the massive courtyard that surrounded the house. Seventeen-year old Kora, preferred to wander aimlessly through the ancient corridors: corridors she had spent most of her life running through, unafraid, and free. The dark wood beneath her feet creaking from time to time, only silenced by the muffled tapestries draped over it. The walls were mostly bare, the occasional mirror, hang from a white wall, making the dark-haired girl falter in her steps.
The house was empty, the party was being held outside. She was not in the celebratory mood. The new Supreme would be sworn in, in not long . The youngest there has ever been. Only a handful years older than Kora herself.
Tahlia Barlow.
The name had been in her mind for weeks, echoed by a strange longing and desperate hope. The witch had been highly praised by many: one of a kind, they said, and as all witches should aspire to be.
Kora stopped in front of a door she recognised well. White, and chipped in some corners, and a scratched golden handle on the right side. Her room since she joined the coven. She briefly wondered if anything would change, now that they would have a new leader.
Her room was plain. A double bed in a corner, with white linens and soft-coloured pillows. An old oak armoire against the opposite wall, filled to the brim with too many jeans, and sweatshirts. A bookshelf, with unfinished spells, and her many notebooks on potions. A small table, that seemed to give off the illusion she was the studious kind: littered with crumbled paper, strange-smelling herbs, dry ink, and candles. Tarot cards spilled over her Wuthering Heights copy. The Fool, the only card she could clearly see.
Kora walked over to the window that overlooked the backyard. To an outsider, it would look like a gathering of friends, celebrating a merry event. Nothing out of the ordinary occurred. The witches seemed to be in syntony with their surroundings. Blending in with the sunlight, walking, careful steps, carried by the mild wind. Beautiful whispering, she could see, but not hear. They all belonged. Different circles would not change what they were all born with. Sisters in more ways than one. Magic flowing in their blood, entwining between them, connecting them as one.
Kora felt it too. But still, there was something missing from the interaction. Like a missing scale from a tiny fish in the ocean. Wholesome, and yet not. A bell jar that kept her away, not fully, but enough to be noticeable by herself, but also by the others. A bell jar she built, that became stuck: unmoving and unyielding. A confinement that would protect, as much as it would isolate her.
A soft knock on the door. Kora turned around. A dark-haired young woman stood before, the ceremonial black cloth draped over her slender body, sharp narrow dark eyes staring at her from underneath the hood. A beautifully manicured pale hand, pulled the cloak off her face.
Beautiful would be a wrong word to describe this woman before her. She was not beautiful by the usual standards, but rather something else. Alluring, and incredibly captivating. A witch who knew she had the advantage. A Siren, that trapped her prey. A tantalising smile played on her lips, her head slightly titled to the left. Nothing less than an inspection.
Kora knew who she was. She could feel it in her blood. Her presence filled the room.
"Kora James, isn't it?" the she-devil asked. Voice that could have trapped the most cunning of men. A command, not unnoticed.
Kora started sweating under that heavy gaze.
"Yes, Supreme," she replied in a small voice. Eyes on the floor, fists clenched and nails digging in the flesh. This was not how she envisioned meeting Tahlia.
"Not yet Supreme," she mused. Kora heard the woman coming closer, and she looked up. The smile was still there. The assessing stare unflinching. The superior witch judging her subordinate.
"Related to Morgan, I presume," Tahlia continued.
"Yes, she is my grandmother." Blue eyes stared fiercely back at black ones. Mentioning her grandmother always made her uneasy. She released her hands from their tight hold, and made herself look at ease. She had never been close to her former Supreme: an old witch that left this world only a few days ago. News travelled quickly, and a replacement was even more quickly found.
Kora was sure the Supreme knew who she was. She didn't seem like the type to be uninformed, specially concerning her own Circle Witches.
The not-yet-Supreme came closer, her cloak brushing past Kora's shoulder, as she stood in front of the window, staring at that same courtyard. Kora turned as well. But she staring at the witch in front of her. Incredibly young to hold such a position, and yet, her eyes were old and knowing. The smirk was gone. A slightly bewildered expression settled. An incredibly human emotion. So strange to see it on her face. It was out of place.
"I never cared much for crowds." A soft voice in the silence. Gentle, and smooth, but with an unwavering strength beneath. Pale fingers were touching the window, red nails clicking against the glass.
Kora knew, in that moment, she was looking at yet another young witch, burdened too much, too soon. They were two sisters that were out of place. Kora had just met her Supreme, and perhaps, it was the small age-gap, but she understood, to some extent, Tahlia. Perhaps, some good things would come out of it.
"It is custom, for all circles to be present at the Ceremony."
Kora wondered if she should have kept quiet. The Supreme still stared, something like longing and doubt, echoing in her features.
"We used to be untethered. I sometimes wonder if all these rules and traditions are indeed necessary."
An odd thing for a Supreme to say. She was to become the physical embodiment of coven Laws. Kora was surprised by this strange creature; in only a few of minutes, she already showed an unconventional way of being.
Tahlia looked up. She finally cast that burdening gaze on her surroundings, eyes seeming to stare at the Fool for a second too long. Kora didn't move, nor say anything.
Finally content, Tahlia heaved a small sigh, ending the momentary break of character. She pulled her cloak up. Now, a true Supreme stood before Kora. Not just a witch anymore, or a young woman in doubt. A powerful being, that would lead until her death.
" Let's join them, Kora." Tahlia did not turn around, as she left the room. Her steps nearly silent on the wooden floor.
The Fool stared. Kora followed.
2017
"You are beautiful. You are strong. You are kind. Be yourself. Be true to who you are and all will be well. I believe in you. I belie-."
"Do we have to listen to this?"
Kora muted the radio, cutting off that honeyed, monotonous voice, that had been blasting through the speakers for the past ten minutes. She didn't know how she managed to hold on for that long.
"It's very soothing. You should try it."
"I am not listening to this for two hours," Kora replied, snuggling into her coat. She looked out of the window: it was a foggy Saturday morning, trees surrounding either side of the road, barely visible under the mist. It had recently rained, and the scent of it was still fresh in the air.
Silver had come to pick her up, a bit too early this morning. Kora had hoped she would have forgotten their arrangement. Her friend has always was in a good mood, still, surprisingly rocking white shiny hair.
"Are you nervous?" Silver looked from the corner of her green eyes at Kora, concern etched on her face.
"No."
Silver didn't believe her. She had known Kora since their Joining when they were thirteen. Silver had just recently moved to the United Kingdom, from Paris, much to the displeasure of her Coven. Her father had found a well-paying job, that was worth the hassle of moving to a new country.
At thirteen, Silver barely spoke any English, and her what she did know, was heavily misunderstood, by her think accent. And yet, a friendship bloomed, between the witchlings, amongst mispronunciations, and one-sided conversations.
"Your aura says something different."
"My aura is a little bitch. I just want to enjoy this weekend."
Silence ensured. It was the comfortable kind. A silence of layers.
The first Silence, was the monotonous background of the can rumbling. Wet tires, rolling over glistening asphalt street, green pasture spreading over, as far as the eye could see. It was the Silence of quiet contemplation, it was being carried away through the world, watching it pass in quick bursts of light.
The second Silence, was more subtle. It was the one inside. Two friends, that established an harmony, filled with quiet breaths and, slow heartbeats. It was the warmth that filled the car, and misted the windows. It was a kind Silence, of safety, and soul-filling.
The third Silence, was different, because it was only halfway there. It was a Silence that tugged at Kora's mind. An anticipation, an anxiety of what was to come in a few hours. It was the Silence, that made her heart race a bit, and her palms sweat. Worry crumbled bit, by bit that warmth she previously felt. It was a Silence, that was paired with Tahlia's dark gaze, and her grandmother's sickly coughs. It was a Silence that became too heavy, too quickly, and that Kora desperately tried to escape.
"How's University going?" Silence collapse. Relief flooded Kora. Conversation would keep her afloat.
"It's going well. I have essays to write, lectures to revise." Silver answered, a small crease between her eyebrows, as she changed lanes, to pass a car. She was in her last year of an Arts and Science degree. She had been coming less to the Brew, due to her studies and projects, and Circle meetings, which Kora has been delightfully neglecting.
"Still, reading people's future?"
"Bien sûr! It's nice to have some money on the side. Plus, desperate students are my best clients. And, this hair doesn't tend to itself."
"Tahlia doesn't know, does she?"
Silver looked from the corner of her eyes at Kora. A devious little smile playing on her lips. Kora looked at her closest friend. Tahlia would most definitely not approve of her witches, selling their powers so casually to humans. It was cheap, and in bad taste, as she would say, not what witches were meant to do.
Kora reached her arm and placed a hand on Silver's arm. They had been friends for years. A bond had developed between the two witches. They were complete opposites in the spectrum of life, and yet, incredibly close.
"I am glad I'm not the only one with a reason to be nervous."
"I thought you said you weren't nervous," Silver replied, eyebrows raised, with and incredulous expression.
Kora removed her hand. Smiling, she shrugged, and went back to looking out of the window, enjoying the warmth of her many layers of clothes. She has always enjoyed travelling by car, specially in winter time. "It's Tahlia. Who wouldn't be?"
The witches laughed. A beautiful sound that resonated in the car, full of possibilities, and mischief. Kora thought these were the moments of happiness, she cherished so much. For the past few days, it had been difficult. A weight on her shoulders, and a hand that was constantly around her throat.
And yet, in that moment, that hand slowly retreated to the back of her mind. She could finally breath in peace. She looked on.
Outside, the wind whispered.
Fallen leaves danced to the rhythm, over the dirt that bordered the road.
Magic flowed strongly in the air. It was a promise of the Coven that was coming together once again.
Another chapter! I'm on a roll :)
I hope you enjoyed this.
Btw, there will be a lot of flashback in this book, that will explain some of the events of the timeline I made (we will go back to the 15th century, the French Revolution, the witch trials, and so many more).