Witch

Trouble begins

I had tried to help the child in the forest but is was no use the darkness had consumed her. All that I could do for her was giver eternal rest. This pattern became increasingly common as the years continued to wear on. I watched helplessly as countless died and were then consumed by the darkness becoming shadows themselves. All through those nightmarish years Sciath and Aisling were my constant companions. At times they did wander the world separate form me, but if ever I called they would head me. 

As time continued to flow their powers awakened as I knew they would. Sciath became a master of barrier charms and spells. His offensive capabilities included every weapon available for summoning. He could also breath fire and fly. Aisling now stuck to the shadows staying true to his name as well. He could teleport using shadows and darkness as well as cloak himself in it. When need be he could walk among-st dreams. To protect himself he used the shadows to create chains and anything he needed. 

I myself also continued to grow more powerful. My own powers not from the Grimoire growing with each passing year. I almost always kept my visage of death up when walking among mortals. When I heard talk of a "new world" I decided it would be best to relocate there. Although I had traveled the breadth of the entire world I had not been there in centuries. The "old world" held too many memories. 

The trip to the new world was exhausting. I had to constantly use a cloaking spell combined with a charm for safe sea passage. Yes I could have used magic to get there but showing up seemingly by magic would have caused quite a stir. About two weeks before arrival I cast a memory spell so that everyone would remember me being on the ship the entire journey. It worked on all but a few. Naturally these few where descendants themselves. They cornered me one day in the brig and attempted to interrogate me.

"We know what you did." The eldest of the group states with clarity tinged with slight hostility. The group consisted of the wives on the ship. Each were dressed nearly identically with their austere and plain dresses. I had suspected them of being descendants from the beginning but did not confront them. My suspicions were confirmed in the middle of the only storm we faced. I had found them all huddled in the bow of the ship muttering to themselves in a circle. NOne of them were powerful enough to caste an enchantment of that size alone.

Covens and groups were not unusual or unheard of. After the humans had started persecuting the descendants in greater force many clung together for strength and protection. Little communities popped up with the descendants gathering under the cover of darkness. I tended to stay away from them. More female descendants participated in covens than male. The males were less hunted and therefore did not need to hide like their counterparts. No it seemed that they were fleeing to this "new world" in search of freedom.

"If  making sure you were not found out is what you mean, then yes I did it. Anything else I have not the remotest idea of what you are insinuating." I coolly reply keeping my distance from their glaring eyes. The elder one, the one who spoke was a grey haired woman with deadly ice in her eyes. She was obviously the leader of the group. From what I could sense she also had the greatest amount of power to her. 

Raising a gnarled arthritis ridden finger at me in accusation she snarled. "We know you are a witch like us. We saw you weaving the spells on the dark of the moon. It took all of our power to try and stop your destructive curses." That took me aback but I did not let it show in my posture and face. 

"So that's why we ran into that storm. You undid my work." I said with a slight chuckle. These women had been so far removed from the knowledge of the ancients they though that I was weaving curses trying to kill them all. "I was not cursing this vessel you fools, I was protecting it from harm and you little coven nearly destroyed you."

At my jab one of the younger members lunges at me muttering a fire spell. 

"You dark witch!" She screams as the fireball, if it could be called that is hurled toward me. I merley hold out my hand and the fire comes to a rest right in my palm. It dances out my finger tips in an almost playful manner. The entire group gives a collective gasp at this display. Playing with fire is easy magic. While her impudence angers me their obvious lack of training saddens me. At the height of the descendants prime words were unneeded for casting only small children used words. They must have truly been cut off from any other descendants. 

"Who are you?" The elder one asks.  I contemplate my answer.

"Merely a refugee like you. I know you have no reason to trust me but I wish to give you a gift. This is given to you with the promise that this knowledge shall stay among-st yourselves and you descendants. " I know giving them knowledge is dangerous but I can see that if it is not given to the descendants that they shall simply cease to be able to preform magic. I wave my hand over the flame and transform it into a small tome. I hand it to the elder one.

"Inside this tome is knowledge from the old world. Its pages shall never end and the ink shall never fade. Use it wisely don't let the knowledge fall into wrong hands or disappear." With that they bow their heads in gratitude.

"Farewell and good luck." As those words leave my mouth I dissipate into the shadows and reappear on the banks if the new world. I can only hope that they survive and I did not make a mistake.