Guenvene's Love

I Was

The smoke rose from the fire as the herbs burned with a promise. The dark mist wrapped its arms around my shoulders in a tight embrace as its fingers curled around my throat, suffocating me beautifully, filling my lungs until it was all I could feel. It was all I could be as red gushed from my internal burnings. But I welcomed the warmth from the blood dripping down my cold body.

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Had you told me this is where I'd be standing when I reached this age of enlightenment, I would have killed you before the jinx could slip from your subconscious and past your capped, lying lips. Could I have stopped it with such ease, I would have. 

Every girl dreams of this moment, the day that your destiny is revealed. When the curtain of mystery of your future is finally lifted by the big hands of the council. The mean and women that ruled over all. There is one from every place, as a representative to help keep the balance. Some were dark but dazzling, while some were clean and prudish, but both would kill to keep the peace. That could be the worst fate- death for that of the feast.

I cleansed myself with herbs all night to be as clean as possible for choosing. My mother was currently trimming my hair so that the pin straight stands fell just two inches from the floor, as most witches wear theirs once they come of age to show their hair. Today was my Day of Aging, thus my hair finally could be uncovered. Being 18 years hidden away, I had almost forgotten how to deal with the sudden sheet of heat covering my whole back. I could feel the pain of every strand breaking under my mothers clippers, the enchanted steel being one of the few things actually capable of snipping a witches main.

The white dress I wore contrasted with my auburn brown locks. I sat patiently, picking at my nails in order to occupy my mental me. I counted the chips as they fell onto my bare feet, never to be covered in order to stay as close to mother Gaala, our one goddess.

"Do not pick my child, just vanish the varnish or leave it" My mother scolded gently with a tug to my bangs. Child , that's all I had been called. My name was not to be uttered until I presented myself to the council. What if I stutter, it's not like I've ever said it before. 

"Mother, you know leaving the chipped paint will drive me bonkers, and if I go crazy they'll for sure kill me." I whined pathetically as I continued picking. 

One swipe of my mothers hands over mine and a tingling sensation at my fingertips had all of the blue color gone from sight.  I wanted to whine that I now had nothing in my hands to save me from my own subconscious, but mother always tells me to get comfortable with my own head because its all I will have after today. Hopefully my choosing allows me to stay with my own kind, but maybe I will move to help other species, maybe I will be sent as a missionary, my possibilities are that of incomparable and unimaginable. 

My mother walks and as custom I follow behind her with my head bowed so that my face is hidden by my hair and shadows. Out the kitchen and through the mixing room, our sacred room for witchcraft within our humble home, to the from door. She grabbed her favorite scarf with Edgar Allen's poem " The Raven" printed down the long black fabric. I never saw why witches were stuck with the Raven, surely the dead would be more fitting for the Raven yet they have the rat- possibly even more fitting but still. Not all witches like such a dark aspect to represent us. The Owl would have been nice too had it not been taken by those of the time keepers.

The walk from our home to the Choosing Ceremony was that of a four hour walk, but with the help of a horse, we could make it two at the most. I followed my mothers white and brown painted horse on my own black young stallion, Prince. He was the villages gift to me for my present that I get to keep no matter what my choosing turns out to be. Even if they kill me, they'll send my horse to the afterlife with me.