March 13, 1692.
In every corner of the country, witches are being thrown into burning pits of fire, their skin scorched until it crumbles to dust. Kings, dukes, commanders, priests, all conspiring with one another to bring death to any threat coming...
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The Royal Witch CHAPTER ONE
THE WORLD WAS breaking, crumbling into chaos. Earthquakes shook their homes down. Flames erupted from the ground. The oceans boiled away and forests turned to ash. Night fell and stayed for months, lit only by fires that burned day and night. The air was too thick to breathe. Evanora, beautiful and brave, held the world together with emerald magic as her enemies tried to shatter it.
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Seraphina stumbled towards the window. The morning sky had turned milky grey, the sun a bright disk swimming in a gathering haze. Her mother strolled into the room, a tattered spellbook cradled in her arm.
"Seraphina, I need your help," said Evanora, laying the book down onto the wooden table.
"Anything, mother," she replied, gathering her skirts and gliding towards her.
"Morena is afraid they'll discover her. She's asked for our help." Every witch can recognise their own, simply by touch or sight. Like a pack of wolves, witches are loyal to each other, protecting their own. Witches across the country look up to Evanora, and now she does everything in her power to save them from this terrifying war.
"What do we do?" asked Seraphina, glancing down at the spellbook and a small flask of dark powder, crumbs of gold embedded within in like flakes of light in the night sky.
"We need to deliver this to her." She gestured to the ingredients.
"Why?" Seraphina asked. "Is she in trouble?"
"I—No, everything is just fine." She hesitantly brushed off Seraphina's question with a quick flick of her wrist. Slowly, her glassy eyes met with her daughter's and she held out her palms. "Take my hands."
She did.
Evanora's lips moved slightly and she began to chant a spell under her breath. Seraphina shut her eyes and exhaled, binding her strength with her mother's. She pinched her eyebrows together, concentrating hard on the words that her mother uttered. Her mind drifted to Mrs Carpathia and her daughter; Dahlia—Seraphina's friend. The thought of them being harmed created a heavy knot inside of her throat and her fingers shook beneath her mother's.
