Heaven & Hell → AHS: Apocalypse

Chapter One: Tarot & Tadpoles

Lovers, Judgement, The Devil

Three intricately illustrated tarot cards lay on the wooden flooring of the cream-coloured room located within the mansion that housed Miss Robicheux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies, known as a place for witches, a safe haven from judgement, danger and persecution.

Brianna Harton sat just before the cards, curiosity peaked. This was certainly interesting. Tarot was one of her hobbies, she read for friends, for random strangers who drew her attention and for situations that have, and would unfold - in whatever weird universe way it transpired.

Romance on the horizon, a temptation of hearts? Perhaps a calling of the heart for oneself, inner reflection for self love. Brianna could definitely get on board with that, a preferred presence of solitude and desire for independence. Her favourite days spent were definitely in company of either herself and her mothers, playing board games, reading, 

Then came the all powerful force of possible new beginnings or a resurrection. One could say that witches were accustomed to both when the need arised. 

But the last, the shadow side of life, the contrast to the angel card and the precipice between good and evil. Such a fine line, even finer with the allure of quick lust, powerful magic or even simple desperation. One moment could define a lifetime. Into tragedy or into hope. These cards guide, but life will tell.

At nineteen years old, the brunette witnessed her own share of the ways of "good" and "evil". With magic, some found themselves intertwined with the idea of this. She herself had delved into the intricate, deep grimoires hidden away for safety yet kept for education within the academy's library, in addition with her own personal collection.

It had all started with a simple fire spell, just some light and warm to get her through the next hours of reading. The spark lit quietly, a shade of emerald to saffron, eventually vermillion. A warming air filled the area, shades of pink tinging the witch's face. A metaphorical blanket for the coolness of the winter air drifting in from the damaged windows.

Vermillion flashes, back to saffron, to emerald, to nothing. Colourless flame dancing for mere seconds, next an unexpected explosion, sharp sparks flew from the fireplaces to the surrounding area, zipping from the lounge to Brianna, a lightning shock vibrating from her toes to top of her head.

Brianna tossed the book she was in the midst of reading, helplessly fumbling for anything to put out the sparks and save the room. Nothing in sight, and no spell she uttered seemed to quell the chaos she had created.

Her parents had found her outside after the firefighters had been called. Minor burns. Major shame. Magic is one of the things she found herself confident within, relying upon it for a lot of situations. It hurts to have it backfire, literally, on her. Landing her in trouble, with both her parents and the local police. 

This incident had led her to the eerily spotless mansion within New Orleans, filled with witches, a few with their own stories that could be mirrored with her own. Accidents which led to new discoveries. For those lucky few who were found and not sent away to other places by their family.

Brianna was surprised that the police let her off easier than they should've - arson is what they would have called it in other circumstances. Her parents Judith and Aisling managed to convince them, accompanied by some woman who then in turn let Brianna know of her own future at the academy. Better an academy for the magically inclined than a place where she wouldn't be able to do any.