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──•~❉᯽❉~•──
" Kiss someone who makes you feel their magic in your bones, who makes you wonder how can someone who looks like witchcraft at midnight can taste so holy "
— Nikita Gill
IT ALL STARTS WITH A TAROT CARD.
Three of Swords; it tears her apart, an animalistic grief growing carnivorous and hungry for the heart beating in her chest. She cries over the Tower, or because the Devil's grinning face provokes discord in her Celtic Cross reading. Her amethyst pendulum never ceases to swing in the most dreaded directions and all of the tea leaves foreseeing her inevitable downfall are beginning to make her feel ill. Every dream morphs into an amalgamation of pure night terrors and the thing that a girl fears most when it comes to divination: her own gruesome death, outlined in the foggy haze of her subconscious. When death begins to spring up dark omens before Mallory Scarrow's eyes, her doom is evident everywhere she turns.
However, she's fortunate enough to have her coven to hold her up when she spirals into mania — Althea, Ceridwen, Nina: sisters in everything but blood. ( They'll be the ones to pour dirt over her coffin when the time comes ). The four of them are pariahs, to put it simply, outcast by everyone in their year with only each other to cling to. They're bound together by rituals and laughter, hearts shackled together as one, unable to be eroded by death or the cycle of life. Even in their next lives, they will find each other.
