Chapter One:The Origins

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Fog. Dirty, unhygienic fog. Within the fog and deep within the forest a dainty village settled innocently within mother nature. The village was a small community full of like-minded individuals. A miniature well sat in the centre of the village, the beating heart of the community. It had a slated roof sheltering it from the wrath of mother nature. The legs were being invaded by pickle green vines that were once home to the most precious blooming flowers known to mankind. Moss had begun to gather at the bottom of the stonework of the well. Even though the village was small, it had all of the necessities required in a larger village. The houses, markets, town hall and the most historic building in the village:the church

The church was  relatively big even though only a few would attend the masses. Each stone held a thousand memories, good and bad. Many had believed the myth of the church's origin and there were those who didn't and those who knew the truth of the historic building. One  who knew the truth was Rosaline Valiente, daughter of Abigail Valiente who was the Queen of Witches both in their village, Bloodcove, and covens elsewhere in the world. Rosaline was the definition of beauty: silky black hair, wood brown eyes and glowy pale skin. In this particular coven, each witch has their own specific colour that matches their personality and their power but will only obtain their colour on their sixteenth birthday. Rosaline had twenty-eight days until her colour ceremony. Her mother always says "It's the best day of a witch's life, where you can finally embrace your true self."

It was a cold autumn morning and Rosaline had slipped on her usual off-white dress and her matching corset that had grass stains on the front and back. She quickly ran her pale fingers through her lengthy and healthy hair getting rid of the miniscule knots then continued to plait it on one side of her head.  She heard her mother and an unknown voice coming to the main part of their home allowing her curiosity to increase and finally giving into temptation, she eagerly left her room and joined the voices in the main room of their home. Rosaline was met by the gaze of the chief of the village; Edmund Smithy. His grey eyes pierced her wood brown eyes sending a shiver of uncertainty and familiarity down her spine. They both stared at each other for a few seconds before her mother broke the strange silence by clearing her throat which caused them both to break eye-contact and look at Abigail. Edmund had abruptly stood up and turned to Abigail and faintly said "Well heed my warning Abigail."  He turned back around to look at Rosaline and nodded hesitantly, unsure of how to process the previous interaction but still being slightly respectful of her presence. He immediately spun around toward the direction of the plank door, took two strides, pushed the door open and left.
"Who cursed his mood today?" Rosaline asked her mother who was still staring intently at the door as if the devil was about to walk in. "Mama" Abigail's head snapped back to face Rosaline, her mousy brown hair tumbling down her shoulder as she did so. "Hmm" Abigail said whilst giving her daughter a questioning look. She finally understood what her daughter had meant and replied with "oh nothing. No need to worry, it's just Edmund being Edmund and his dislike of women once again." Briskly, Abigail stood up from the chair with a sense of worry around her and quickly kissed Rosaline on the top of her head showing her affection and love then left their home and entered the world full of disrespectful and cruel men.

Rosaline's eyes chased after her mother watching her leave the house to only immediately watch men try to flirt with her. She hadn't thought much about her mother's rather unusual behaviour so she carried on with her previous task which was to collect flowers for her ceremony.

Flowers were a huge part of a witch's ceremony as the type of flower they chose could determine the kind of witch that they would become. Each flower represented a different personality and power trait therefore contributing to the decision of what the individual's colour would be. Once a flower is chosen and has been presented at the colour ceremony, a flowerless bush in the coven's meeting place will be filled with that flower alerting others in the coven of a witch's life source. It also serves as a technique to alert when a witch is in danger or near death as the flowers will start to decay showing the witch's decaying form as they get closer to the unknown reality of death. After a witch has died, all flowers will fall off the bush awaiting the next witch to become of age and give a home to her flower.

Rosaline had picked up her woven basket which had a violet ribbon wrapped around the handle and left her home in order to pursue her task of choosing the perfect flower. As she walked through Bloodcove, almost every villager who she had walked past stared at her as if she had committed some horrible sin. Distressing thoughts raced through her mind until she was brought back to reality when she heard her mother's regal voice at the place in the nearby woods where the coven would gather. She sneaked closer and hid behind a shrub which would soon be filled with her chosen flower. She could see her beautiful mother through the growing twigs and leaves of the bush and listened intently to what her mother was saying.

"I will leave before the ceremony" Abigail said hesitantly with tears shadowing her bottom eyelid. Another witch had spoken up and questioned her leader's absence. "I have been told of news regarding my sister in Salem. She has been arrested under suspicion of being a witch. I do not know when I shall return but you all must promise that you will take care of my Rosaline and everyone in the coven. It will also be upon you to prepare her for both her colour ceremony and the possibility that she may ascend to the throne if it does not all go to plan in Salem. I entrust you, my ladies, to protect her at all costs just as you do with me and the rest of the coven. I will send a letter after I have arrived and another one to tell you of my departure for when you can expect me back."
"We will do what we can and protect her, for she is the last of your bloodline." Another high-pitch voice chimed in.
"You must help her understand her colour and what it can do for not just our coven but for the rest of the covens. She could be the one to destroy the warlocks or keep peace with them, though I doubt it after Marcus reported my sister as a witch."  The leader said.
"Wait, it was the warlock Marcus that had reported your sister for witchcraft? His own wife? Why?" Another witch confusingly asked.
"Because she is my sister and he does not like the possibility that she can gain more power than him. The warlocks are up to something and I fear that my Rosaline will be caught in the crossfires of it. They do not like the reality that we have more power than them. They especially dislike that Rosaline will hold the greatest power that anyone has heard of, even greater than her ancestors. They are slaughtering us by the minute, coven by coven and soon they will come after our coven, either that or enslave us and force us to give them our power so they can dominate the other witches and change the dynamic to what it originally was when our powers first emerged." Abigail declared cautiously as she felt the eyes that watched her not knowing it was her only descendant.

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⏰ Last updated: Feb 24 ⏰

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