Beware the Mind Warper, a creature of dread,
With powers to twist thoughts inside your head,
It'll warp your mind, and make you believe,
In things that aren't real, and cause you to grieve,
Its control over you, hard to break free,
So watch out for the Mind Warper, or its victim you'll be.
Killian
Whoever said that secrets aren't fun, is a bold-faced liar.
Secrets, secrets, secrets. The unseen and untouched. The silent currency that can make anyone richer than their wildest dreams. Accumulating and gathering whispers is far from simple.
It helps, though, when I don't have to listen to those murmurs.
It helps plucking that hushed gold from someone's head.
And if secrets were indeed a currency, I would be a rather wealthy, purple-eyed man.
The Council is convening.
Though this tends to happen quite often, it's rare to have all nine members of the Council present. Typically, there are delegates or spokespeople for those who cannot attend, but it's no secret that today's discussion has caused ripples through the Wiccan World.
As I enter the Council Chambers, I quickly notice there's more chatter than usual. The high ceilings of the tower spiral upwards towards an elaborate painting and mosaic design, but the Magic in the room makes the dome hardly recognizable from such a low distance.
I take the stairs down towards the center of the room. Our Chambers resemble a funnel, where at the very bottom, there are allocated seats that circle around the speaker's post and the mediators table.
Slowly, the Chambers spiral upwards where there are seats for everyone and anyone to listen in to the discussion. Most days, the places are quite empty, but today, every chair is occupied. In fact, there are individuals who are standing at the top of the railings peering downwards.
I glance up towards the torches and column ledges. Owls, ravens, and magpies are all perched, along a few other animals like a capuchin monkey. All of them are waiting patiently for everyone to take their seats.
No, they aren't pets. A few Wiccan's are Gifted with Transfiguration. Birds tend to be quite common but oddly enough, it depends on the part of the world you live in. North America tends to lean more towards foxes and owls, whereas our Amazonian Coven's are rather successful in monkey's and jaguar's.
Regardless, there hasn't been an Upper Class Shifter in over fifty or sixty years. A true would be able to change into any animal. Most of these birds lay on the Lower-Class Magic spectrum.
Still, I'm surprised to see the Chambers so full. Over the last few days, the Royal Island has had an influx of visitors, which I know has led to many questions from the King and Elders.
The Royal Castle, much like the rest of the Island, is completely engrossed in Magic. It pumps through the stone of this land like blood flow in a body. It's one of the reasons so many supernatural's choose to live here now. Because even though there are other sources of Magic throughout the world, the Island feels like one of the hearts.
I reach the bottom of the stairs, shuffling my way towards my designated seat. My friend, Janus, is already seated. He offers me a smirking smile, "Prepare yourself."
The corner of my own lip rises, "We both know I'm the one that doesn't mind the spotlight."
He chuckles under his breath and once I'm comfortable in my seat, I finally look at him. In the blink of an eye, I watch his features shift. He goes from a silvery blonde hair to my dark black. His eyes turn from pale blue to purple.
YOU ARE READING
The Broken Wolf
Werewolf"Killian what?" She asks while scribbling my name on the book. "Just Killian." She looks up at me with furrowed eyebrows. "No surname?" I smile faintly. You can't have a surname if you don't remember it. You can't have a surname if it was brutally...
