WitchBite

By Leather Wings Shall You Fall

 'By Leather Wings Shall You Fall'

The Seidr's words rung ruinous in my mind, as I sat propped on the wooden windowsill of my bedroom window, the dull grey of a cloud-filled sky, swelling with the release of rainfall, clashed with the magenta purple of my lamp light that stretched it's shadows along the floor.

The gentle ember of my cigarette glowed soothingly, as I exhaled a steady coil of smoke, letting it roll from my lips.

Victoria would kill me if she knew I was smoking. Especially in my room. But then again, the Seidr saw and said I would die anyway, so why should I care?

I looked outwards to the thickened forests that surround Tithe Manor, my home, just barely visible through the rain and the night. I could just about smell the beckoning musk of it's moist evergreens, and a well of sadness bubbled up within the pit of my chest.

I didn't want to die. But most of all; I didn't want to spend the rest of my days trying to unravel the how I was going to die, thanks to the cryptic prophecy of an old man, too dependant on the tree roots and fattened leeches that give him that power.

He wasn't as straight forward as an oracle, but he had a generous reputation of being correct more often than not, and it was my turn to see him.

Before I could continue to delve further into the hurriedly blackening pool of my own psyche there came a confident rapping on the wood of my door.

"Shit" I cursed, hurriedly stamping out the cigarette and doing my burst to usher the smell and smoke out of the window.

"V? I know you're in there." The sweet voice of Vicky called out "I heard about you visiting the Seidr... And I heard it wasn't the best of prophecies--"

"Just a minute" I cut her off, as I snatched a can of deodorant from my bedside table, and sprayed it generously around the room, albeit; at the expense of my own air supply.

I reached for my bedroom door, praising whatever gods there may be that my father allowed me to install my own chain lock on it, and opened it wide, relishing in the familiar creak as it swung to the side.

Victoria stood there, the gentle rose pink of her alabaster cheeks did nothing to hide a look that was somehow a combination of both curiosity and worry. The glorious waterfall of chestnut brown, that was her hair, hung wildly tamed to one side and over her left shoulder.

She looked like she had just come back from a day at the beach. She smelled of warmth and the sun, and there was the beginnings of sunburn across her freckled shoulders.

She took not a second longer to walk into my room, I felt a certain pang of guilt and panic as she neared my bed to sit upon it, and she did grimace slightly as she gulped down air.

"How much deodorant do you need?" She choked, crawling over my bed to open the window further. "I understand that men stink like nobody's business but this is obscene."

"No, please. Make yourself at home. Here, judge my wardrobe while you're at it" I scoffed, coming to join her as I slumped heavily into the soft blankets and pillows of my bed.

"It's tacky, and I hate it." She remarked, sticking out her tongue "Anyway, the meeting... Wanna talk about it?"

I paused for a moment. Staring, mostly into nothingness, before finally exhaling a sigh and saying:

"On Leather Wings Shall I Fall. He said. Of course this was only after his normal crazy mumbo-jumbo. It's twenty-nineteen, does he really have to apparently have a heavy petting session with a moss addled tree, while hopping counter-clockwise on his left leg?"