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 SIX
The room was engulfed in shadows, all except a solitary flame in the centre of the room. Seraphina stood at the end of her bedroom, her eyes fixated on a candle as she commanded it to spark a fire without any movement or incantations. She shifted her gaze to the candle beside it, a flame igniting almost rapidly. She continued to do this until there was a row of flames, like a barrier against the other half of her bedroom.
Her aim was to practice using her magic without shutting her eyes or muttering a spell under her breath. She only used her eyes which lit up like green fire, no different from the candles beneath her. Swiftly, she swept her hand across the air, extinguishing the flames immediately.
• • •
"Show me what you're capable of."
It was midday and Seraphina was in the weapons room with her uncle Jonathan. He stood there with his shoulders square, his eyes critical and challenging.
She took a deep breathe—so deep, as though she was going to dive into the depths of the ocean—then twisted around and threw her arm out. Her clenched fist hovered in the air, constricting Jonathan's throat without making any physical contact, blocking the air flowing through his windpipe. But he was stronger than her. Effortlessly, he jerked his chin to the side which sent Seraphina skidding across the floor and thumping against the stone wall. She painfully winced, clutching her shoulder that came in contact with the hard surface.
"You wanted to stay behind to fight?" Jonathan demanded. "You would have been killed in a second."
Seraphina staggered to her feet. "That's unfair. Aloysius and his men don't have magic."
"No," he shook his head, "but they have weapons which they can control as fast as magic."
"Don't send me away," she pleaded, "please."
He sighed. "I just don't want anything to happen to you, Ser."
"Then, train me," she raised her chin, "train me so I can fight beside you."
"Spark a fire."
"What?" She asked, her brows knitting together.
"Spark a fire with your fingers. I know you can do it, you've been playing with those green flames of yours since you were a child."
Seraphina held her hand up and clicked her fingers. An emerald flame hovered above her open palm, reflecting against her lustful, green eyes.
