We Three Witches (Twilight)

Prologue

Devonshire, England - 1668 AD

3rd person POV

Esmerelda glared daggers at the gathering crowd as she and her sisters were dragged to their stakes. This was their thanks? This was their gratitude for curing that sickly child? Evangeline had been right—they never should have let Catherine convince them to help the boy. His ungrateful mother had taken their help, and run straight to the Church to report them for witchcraft.

As she was ushered past the woman who had reported them, she gave her a malicious and wicked smile. If the town wanted witches, then by Circe they would get witches.

"A curse on you, you filthy whore! May your womb become as blackened and infected as your heart! Let that son of yours be the only one you bear your husband! And when you least expect it, may your husband pay for the gift of your child's life with that of his own! This is my will–so mote it be," Esmerelda hissed.

The young mother burst into tears and Esmerelda cackled. The soldier yanked her away from the family, but the damage was done.

Catherine and Evangeline rolled their eyes at their sister's words–she had always been the more vengeful of them. But she should have been saving her energy for their final act in this life–not cursing that wretch (as satisfying as it may have been). The three girls had accepted death. They knew they would live again to take vengeance on those who had crossed them. Particularly the wretched Cullens who had dared come after them for saving a child.

They stood silent as the soldiers tied them to their stakes, watching on with an indifference that unsettled the villagers who had come to watch. The only emotion they showed was when their eyes turned to the pastor's son as he spoke to them directly. Hatred seemed to flow off them in waves as they stared him down.

"Esmerelda, Evangeline and Catherin McKinnon. You stand before God, accused of witchcraft—how do you plead?" he asked, as though judgement hadn't already passed.

Catherine and Evangeline deferred to their sister, as was their way. Their looks of hatred never wavering as Esmerelda began to speak.

"Carlisle Cullen, you stand there and defy your false god by lying through your teeth, you claim that we are being tried, but you know as well as we do that we are already guilty in the eyes of the community.

"My sisters and I have no use for falsehoods. We cured that boy of his sickness at his mother's request. The duplicitous whore then assumed we would demand payment—which she knew she could not provide—and turned us into you to escape her perceived debt, the idiotic fool never realized that we cared not for her coin or livestock, our only interest was in seeing the flush of health and life return to her innocent son's cheeks.

"Yet she assumed—" Esmerelda glared into the crowd who all took a startled step back, "—as do all of you, that we are greedy, worthless children of a devil we do not believe in. Defiers of your hypocritical god, and sinners—all because we do not follow you insipid ridiculous practises. By any definition you filthy mortals care to give, we are guilty. But by our own, our only crime was to assist a black-hearted wench who will rue ever crossing us." She turned to the pastor's son. "As will you, boy."

As one, the sisters reached deep within themselves, to their wells of power and magical crystals they had swallowed earlier, drawing energy to power their magic. As they shared one mind, the sisters began speaking in unison.

"Hear us fire; hear us earth; hear us water; hear us air; hear us spirits." Their eyes glowed an unearthly violet as they chanted, "We call upon the elements to bear witness to our promise. Carlisle Cullen—on your head we lay a curse: you will become the very monster you so assiduously hunt. You will know the pain of endless solitude, and only through true remorse will you ever find peace."