A Witch's Tale

Samhain, the night the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest; most children call this night Halloween and dress up as witches, ghost, and goblins. The night when old magic, ancient magic, whispers it's song to anyone who cares to listen. The witches New year. The night I was born.

My grandmother, the High Priestess of our coven, delivered me into this world at midnight the day of the Sabbat. She placed me into a woven basket and began to trace sigals into my newborn skin while repeating an unknown language.

I've been told that ravens lined up in the trees, black cats perched on the porch, and members of our coven stood waiting... just waiting to get a glimpse of the baby foretold centuries ago to be the most powerful witch our coven has ever seen.

Alas, almost eighteen years has past and now, I'm just... Rowan Nightingale. Ordinary witch with no gift, as we call it.

At least I thought I had no gift.