It's a witch's world

Shockwave

As far as I could remember, there had never been a shockwave that powerful within the witches community since the death of my friend Agatha Harkness during the trials at Salem. There had never been a magic that I didn't recognize until now. 

I rushed over to grab my cup of tea, which had nearly toppled off the table from the sheer force of the shockwave. I sipped some of it whilst walking over to the bookshelves in my living room, if you could even call it a living room. 

Runes... Defensive spells... Potions...

I ran my fingers across the aged spine of each book until I got to what I was looking for.

'Advanced level locator spells' 

I flipped it onto the page I wanted, which contained a spell I had only used a few times before. I placed the book on the ground and sat crossed-legged in front of it, closing my eyes and reciting the incantations. Soon, I could see the location of every shockwave that had been released from a witch who had died recently. I traced the shockwave energy from my house until I reached the point where the energy had been released.

I was instantly pulled out of the spell when I stopped reciting from the shock. It was impossible, no witch had ever even made it to Wundagore. Hardly any even knew of the temple's existence, how could someone release so much energy whilst in the heart of Wundagore. 

I sat on the floor, shaken up. As much as I knew that the idea of travelling to Wundagore shouldn't even be crossing my mind, the thought didn't leave my head. Whatever witch had died there, they were immensely powerful. 

Don't be an idiot, no one has ever made it out of the journey from Wundagore alive. 

*****

The thought didn't even cross my mind again until a few days later, when another shockwave actually managed to break my teacup. I pulled out the book of locator spells again and followed the same ritual as I had done a few days ago, reciting incantations and focusing on the energy of the shockwave. I traced the spell back to Wundagore again, it was the same unfamiliar magic as I had seen before, but the shockwave hadn't felt like a death this time. It felt more like a birth. 

I stopped reciting and quickly shut the book, putting it back on the shelf. Something was wrong, and I was determined to find out what it was. I went to bed promising myself that I would find out what had happened, but that promise quickly left my mind when the nightmares began again.

*****

"Selene Morganthau, do you plead guilty to use of dark magic and the accusation of being a witch?"

I lifted my head slowly to look at the crowd in front of me, who were all gawping at me. My hands were tied with ropes to a wooden stake, and I could see the executioner already preparing to set me on fire. It was no use trying to plead otherwise, if I lived through the fire then they would kill me, either way I was a dead woman to them.

"I don't plead with anyone. In time, you will feel the wrath of our descendants, the descendants of the witches you failed to kill and the descendants of the innocent." I replied. 

"Selene Morganthau, I will not ask again. Do you plead guilty to use of dark magic?" 

"Does it matter how I plead? Men will always find a way to blame things on women or something else other than themselves, when will an injustice as old as humanity itself come to an end?" 

The executioner lit the straw around my shoes on fire, and soon I was consumed by the flames. Once the fire started to burn my clothes, I could feel a slight pain. But I knew I would not burn, the runes would protect me and my determination to live was certainly burning more than the fire.