Nemona: The Witch of Scaranton

Chapter 18: The Midnight Council

A silence hung heavily within the cavernous bounds of the Scaranton mansion.

Seated amidst weathered tomes of books, my eyes skimmed over old symbols and cryptic phrases, candlelight bestowing a gently flickering life upon the ancient words. I have lost count of how many times I looked through these books and yet I tried searching through every book that laid an importance or hint of magic.

"*By lyght of daye and moone's soft gleam,*" a gentle whisper teased at my consciousness, the remnants of a spell. But this time revealing the full instant of the words, the entire body of what it meant to be.

Beatrice's melodies, hearing them my breath got held as if I could not take an air in properly.

My gaze lifted as Eleanor, her eyes softly opened, looking a bit pail stepped into the softly lit room. A gentle crease of worry adorned her brow, and a silence stretched between us.

"Will there be peace, Arria?" Eleanor's voice, a tender whisper, barely disturbed the quiescent air.

Meeting her gaze, I felt a familiar blending of fierce determination and gentle empathy stir within my soul. "I cannot divine the strands of the future, Eleanor," my words flowed cautiously, "but I assure you, we will not lose the battle so easily."

A soft, hesitant rustling heralded Jasper's entrance, his innocent eyes wide amidst the mingling shadows and soft candlelight. "I can't sleep," he confessed, his voice a gentle echo amidst the solemnity, "The dark man in my dreams again."

Beatrice, opened her arms to him. As he sought solace within her embrace.

Beatrice, gently kneeling down to meet Jasper's eyes with a warm and reassuring gaze, spoke softly, "Jasper, we can't let this situation wander us in the dark. How about we share all that we know, our dreams... even our fears. Though our stories might seem like pieces from different puzzles, if we share, maybe we can solve this big mystery together, what do you think?" Her voice, filled with encouragement and a hint of vulnerability, sought to find a bridge between the innocent curiosity of childhood and the profound complexities of fear.

Beatrice's gaze was faraway, her voice calm as she began recounting her understanding of the spectral realm she has experienced. "Nemona..." she whispered, "is tethered to a past injustice, poisoning it with an undying flame of vengeance and sorrow. Our first connection was as if she was angry with me, I could not figure out what it was that I felt, but then when she came through with my violin with Arria's guidance it became more prominent that her anger was one form of hurt".

Next, Jasper spoke of the "dark man", an entity that haunted the peripheries of his nightmares, always lingering, observing, yet obscured by the intangible veils of dream and shadow. This malevolent presence offered no communication, only emanating a chilling aura of foreboding that seeped into the young boy's dreams. Apparently he had dreamt of this man even before coming to the Scaranton mansion, but these few days it started invading his dreams frequently.

And then, my turn came to speak. Coming from the circumstance I knew what I would share might help not only Winstons but me in understanding the chain of events.

**Once Upon A Time**

My story begins right here in England, in a quiet village named Stonewick near Chysauster, one of the most ancient villages in England, probably dating from the Bronze Age. Nestled amidst the enchanting Valorian Woods, Stonewick was a place where ancient magic flowed through the very soil, some stones had markings on them, even rivers nearby were clear as the glass.

I was born into a family steeped in mystical traditions. My parents, Sorrel and Harriet, were renowned in the village as powerful magic wielders, revered for their guardianship over the Celestial Circle. This sacred formation of stones lay deep within the woods and was not just a collection of rocks; it was a conduit that connected our world to the spectral realm, maintaining a delicate balance.