For those bold enough to set foot in the dim and unwelcoming forests of Xerate, a mystical spectacle may unfold under your eyes. The forests of this region were ones of bewitched, enchanted creatures.
Azeria was born in the course of an autumnal equinox during which the day is as long as night and the night as long as the day. What date exactly? That you must not concern yourself with, as birthdays were not part of the customs in her community. Where was she born? That also is not significant as her hamlet bore no name.
Azeria is a child of the Basque country in the Southwest of France. A region with more mysteries than inhabitants. She belonged in one of the most ancient Sorginak den the world has ever sheltered.
Deep in the forest lived the Sorginak, the witches of the basque country, the last to wield long forgotten witchcraft. They settled in forest where the night never seemed to leave. Some even believe that their pupils stretched to adjust to the darkness like those of cats. Wearing their lengthy ebony dress falling just short of the ground, they gave the impression of moving without using their feet. Everything about them was as enticing as they were dangerous.
The Sorginak did not choose this way of life willingly, but were compelled to isolation after the terrible witch hunts conducted by the Spanish Inquisition during the 16th century. After the witch trials at Zugarramurdi, the Sorginak decided that it was no longer safe to live among humans.
Azeria's hamlet was made up solely of women, about three dozen of them. Small houses made of dried branches arised here and there from behind the trees. The air smelled of belladonna and fireplace smoke. Thistles were hung on the doors to ward off storms and evil spirits. The silver thistle was called Eguzkilorea in their native language. When the Laminak, malicious little goblins, came to prowl around the houses at night, they had to count each petal to get in, but the flower had so many that they could not finish before dawn.
During the busiest time of the day, when all the Sorginak left their hut to perform rituals and organize life in the settlement not a sound could be heard. Sorginak are secretive and delicate beings that value wisdom over anything else. The colder the eyes, the greater the esteem. If you were to venture into these forests and pass by the Sorginak village you would never realise it, as it is so silent.
Azeria, just like the five other children in the village, lived her life in the respect of traditions. Learning the history of their kind, learning about plants and incantations, all through the knowledgeable elderly women and their constant storytelling.
The Sorginak do not believe in choosing a name at birth, a name is a spirit. Children grew up nameless until their personality started to emerge and one can be chosen. For this reason, the oldest of the witches uttered the name Azeria one morning, as she saw her peeping in on a private ritual. Azeria for fox, because of how damn witty she was
She knew how to flatter others to win the good favors of her peers. And because she knew how to flatter, she also knew how to lie. Cunning but also calm and discret. She didn't relish in conflicts, she loved silence. She fancied observing, analyzing and advising. She valued justice but was there one or was there none she did not care much. She did not act like you would expect a child to but none did in this village.
Azeria is nothing like any fox you could visualize. No wild auburn hair and sparse freckles. The hair framing her face was a shade stranger to both muggles and wizard. Light barely reflected off of it. Her hair was full and looked like silk, almost drowning her face. The loose waves added to the already intimidating volume. They were made of the deepest black nature ever created, if nature even conceived it. Under the right light, slightly bluish highlights disappeared as quickly as you could figure them out.
Her hair was paired with blue eyes. A striking blue, not that of the sea, not that of a clear spring sky, not even close to any tint of blue visible under sunlight. No, they were eyes a shade of blue you can only appreciate under a moonless night. A blue so deep they looked like little glass marbles filled with water from the plunging part of the ocean, where streams of light are scared to venture. Intimidating and deeply ensettling.
Azeria grew up in the greatest ignorance of what was about to unfold before her eyes by the time she turned 10.
(English is not my first language and none of my relatives speak it. Therefore my writing is clumsy and probably full of mistakes. Writing this without using any traduction websites is a challenge I gave to myself. So forgive me if I butcher your language I'm trying my best... I know I have a wordy way of saying things but that's my style.)
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Tell me a lie
Fanfiction"You're clueless...as always" She felt him draw his breath slowly into her hair, his chest rising and falling. She gave up trying to push him away, her palm resting on his chest. She looked up, her skin tingling with every of his words "you have no...
