~ Legends ~
I'm a legend.
It's really not a big deal. My family is considered legendary in the land of witches. Some people argue that myths are untrue stories, while legends are stories based on old traditions. In my world, myths and legends are typically very old stories passed down from generation to generation.
Myths and legends have been around for centuries, especially scary stories like Blair the Witch, which was a true story by the way. Yes! Blaire the witch was real.
Let me correct myself, Blair is real and she certainly raised hell. Some may even go as far as saying that she is a legend.
The story of her life may be told differently depending on who is telling it or where it is being told, but most of what has been said is true. There is a story to be told about that, but that can wait for now.
Anyway, moving on. Throughout history, there have been numerous mysterious events about witches that also held truth.
For instance, Morgan Le Fay is one of them. According to legend, she was an enchantress, a shapeshifter, the half-sister of King Arthur, and the daughter of Queen Igerna and Gorlois. Morgan, Arthur, and Merlin were considered timeless myths by humans. In the past, even other supernatural creatures were thought to be a figment of the imagination.
The list includes vampires, werewolves, witches, hunters, lycans, sirens, and gypsies. They were considered nonexistent, made-up creatures.
People also questioned demons and archangels, as they were considered nothing more than stories, myths, and even based on religious theories.
However, in the last century,it has become clear that these creatures are real and exist. Some may live in a different realm, but regardless of that, they are most certainly a part of this universe.
Again, it depends on who or where the story about supernaturals is told. Once upon a time, human civilization was a completely different world. Although, during that time many humans believed in myths and legends, while others did not.
The truth eventually prevailed. Eventually, humans realized that some monsters that scared them in their childhoods or were their lovers in their dreams were real.
Sadly, they had to learn the truth the hard way. On May 3, 2081, the moon's shadow completely blocked the sun's brightness. Humanity now knows this as the beginning of The Awakening. The day was referred to as The Reckoning by witches.
Most humans met their maker on that day, as witches like to say. Major cities fell first, followed by everything else. There was no hope for the human military. Their bodies were slaughtered and then disposed of. There was no safety for any human being. It wasn't just humans who were affected. There were also werewolves, lycans, hunters, and even some gypsies who were rounded up, eliminated, and chained. Having lived in another realm, shapeshifters and sirens were speared and didn't want to do with the war.
Mostly, because they live in a different realm with a long list of other creatures that they need to focus on but I don't have time to go over details.
In addition, some vampires do not realize that there are many other supernatural creatures besides those that are commonly known. My people were another supernatural creature that was ignored by the vampires.
The vampires knew better. They wouldn't dare attack witches and warlocks exist because they value their lives. No supernatural creature alive has the balls to attack us. Vampires like to pretend that they rule the world. The same way humans used to pretend they ruled the world. In retrospect, it's pretty funny.
Mostly because we witches rule everything. We are the True Superior species and every supernatural being knows it, especially my family.
Our family is without a doubt the world's most powerful family. We are the real legends. All supernatural creatures seek our acceptance, and no one messes with us. The only reason the vampires were even successful when they claimed the world was because my mother allowed them to. Witches and warlocks were prohibited from participating in The Reckoning. We were forced to settle in Oceania, which she spelled to prevent other species from entering.
My mother then declared that my species was not allowed to intervene since The Reckoning was a part of Our Mother Goddess' destiny.
Every witch believes that the fate of the universe belongs to our creator the Mother Goddess, and our creator wins in the end. In every case, no one can change what was decided to occur, my mother doesn't play with our creator's wishes, and my people don't question my mother's orders at all.
Ever. Sounds crazy right? Perhaps you're wondering why an entire race listens to one woman. No worries, I'll explain.
You see, in the world of witches, each member of my family is considered a legend because of my mother.
Aurora is the world's most powerful witch of all time.
In our world, she is the queen. Her power is endlessly timeless. There is no disobedience to her word. Not a single person! Honestly, it started with my grandmama, but only witches and warlocks know who she is. Humans and other species believe that she is nothing more than a myth. Every one of them is wrong. Morgan is her name.
Morgan Le Fay.
My fairy grandmama. Despite what I have said twice and will say again, all legends and myths are based on some type of truth. Her time is surrounded by a lot of myths. She was the older half-sister of King Arthur's grand-uncle, not an evil enchantress intent on destroying our home.
Yes, he's real. Uncle Arthur is handsome too and the sword Excalibur is extremely cool. Anyway, let's get back to our current topic. In the fabricated stories humans told about her, my grandmama was not an evil enchantress. Her life mission was not to destroy her brother. It was she who kept Grand Uncle Arthur's crown on his head and she would never in a thousand centuries attempt to kill him. No way.
My grandmama Morgan is far too loyal for that and loves her brother with everything she's got, and vice versa. She would also have preferred to smother Grandpapa Merlin with a bloody sword rather than harm him. Nevertheless, she was the most powerful witch at the time.
Moreover, she could not be trusted, at least when species other than witches were involved, and she could easily disguise herself to accomplish her goals. She can change her appearance as well, becoming old, young, beautiful, or ugly.
During that time, no human has ever seen her true form. She kept it hidden from everyone. The funny thing is, she is invariably beautiful to everyone who knows her. To begin with, she has perfectly straight dark night hair. Followed by her soft and fearless, with a darker-than-coal-brown eye and the ever-present possibility of danger.
In a sense, Grandmama Morgan represents the yearned-after desire that can destroy all our enemies, a beautiful evil. Witches like my grandmother gave humans a strong Celtic heritage of storytelling magic, which spawned into villains throughout history.
This magic was so powerful that its effects can still be felt today. It was a source of fear, but also of hope. It was a reminder that even the darkest forces can hold a source of light. My Grandmama is the source of wicked light but my mom is the darkness that can lead to your light. I guess, depending on whatever mood that’s she’s in.
Aurora Le Fay. Your worst nightmare
Have you ever heard the fairy tale Sleeping Beauty? I'm sure you have. Everyone has. Depending on where you originated from I'm also certain that the tale you have heard is quite similar to another person's perception from the other end of the world. Each culture tells a story differently, and each one is a far cry from the truth. Sleeping Beauty wasn't some helpless maiden. Sleeping Beauty is my mother.
Your worst Nightmare and the furthest story from a fairytale. She possesses powers beyond comprehension and wields them with a terrifying grace. Her ability to manipulate dreams and bend reality has made her a force to be reckoned with.
Those who dare to disturb her rest often find themselves trapped in an endless cycle of nightmarish illusions, unable to escape her wrath. Her power transcends generations, as she draws energy from the dreams and fears of all who sleep.
Throughout history, no other witch has been able to match her raw strength and mastery over the dream realm.
Her influence extends across time and space, making her the most formidable and feared witch the world has ever known. Legend has it that she is the true daughter of the creator, born as a favor to our kind by my grandmama, who was a powerful sorceress in her own right.
This divine lineage is said to be the source of her unparalleled abilities, which surpass those of any mortal or magical being.
Her birth was a gift to our world, intended to protect and guide us, but her powers have since evolved into something far more complex and fearsome.
Even her daughters including myself, heirs to her formidable legacy, remain uncertain of the true extent of our mothers' capabilities. We have only witnessed glimpses of her power, each display more awe-inspiring and terrifying than the last.
Despite our shared bloodline, we are acutely aware that our mother's full potential is a mystery that might never be fully understood or controlled, and that is what makes her so dangerous.
And so are her daughters, especially her oldest.
Maleficient Le Fay. (The Defiant One)
My oldest sister has a desire to get under my mother's skin. She cut ties with her long ago for reasons she doesn't care to mention, leaving an air of mystery and tension between them. Despite the distance, my sister's actions and words still find ways to provoke my mother.
It's as if she holds onto the past, using it as a tool to keep the connection, albeit strained, alive.
My sister possesses the unusual ability to travel through time, which she uses to revisit moments of conflict and alter them to her advantage.
Her power allows her to subtly influence events in the past, ensuring that emotional ties remain tangled in the present. It's as if she weaves a thread of tension through the years, keeping her presence felt even when physically absent and you know how upset my mother was about that. Mother Dearest is huge when it comes to allowing fate to be fate.
So she took my sister's power away from her a thousand and one times. However, my mother would never render any of her daughters completely incapacitated or powerless.
Either way, besides my sister's power of controlling time she also has a shitload of other powers and her beauty itself is timeless. Her raven-dark hair cascades down her back like a waterfall of midnight, perfectly framing her face.
Her eyes, striking Irish spring green with a hint of honey, seem to hold the secrets of the universe, drawing you in with their depth and allure. This timeless beauty only adds to her enigmatic presence, making her both captivating and formidable.
Extensively most people in the supernatural world don't even know that she's my sister. She tends to keep a low profile but she has been very much present to me.
In fact, she is like a second mom in my eyes, to my mother she is a pain in the arsenal.
Yet, we all know that my mother prefers my second oldest sister over all of us, which brings me to her.
Evanora Le Fay. (Mother's Favorite.)
Rich chocolate hair, perfectly arched brows, flawless skin, and the most captivating pair of eyes one can have. Her left eye is a brilliant shade of green and her right eye is a fascinating shade of brown.
She possesses the power of life as her signature power.
Regardless of the species, she is capable of controlling all life forces. She can manipulate life and death, create and destroy life, and heal even the deepest wounds. She is a true master of life, and her presence is always awe-inspiring as it is all very annoying.
She is absolutely gorgeous, extremely powerful, and extremely well-behaved, as well as being considered smugly virtuous. Our mother loves her and adores her oh so much.
She is our mother's favorite.
During her time in human society, she was known as Agnes Waterhouse or Mother Waterhouse. She was rumored to be one of the most famous witches in England. According to human legend, my eldest sister was the first woman to be executed for witchcraft in England, but that's a big fat lie.
Any of my mother's children, especially her favorite, would never be burned at the stake or hanged.
In any case, my sister was accused of bewitching a man by the name of William Fynne to death. That's the only truth in the entire story.
Anything else that humans of that time believed happened to her or my cousins who were with her that day was nothing but a figure of our mother's imagination. My not-so-sweet mother spelled the entire village of Hatfield Peverel. All in the name of love for my sister.
Next in the line of The Le Fay girls is my third oldest sister.
Celeste Alice Ley Fae. (The Wicken Whore.)
Play with fire if you want, and I bet you will get burned! Celeste means heavenly in Latin but in raw form, she's the devil's spawn. She's a fury, conniving, back-stabbing witch who thrives on the element of fire.
As gorgeous as they come, her chocolate hair cascades down her back like a silken waterfall. Her bewitching, angelic eyes hold a gaze that can ensnare anyone in their depths. With a body that seems sculpted by the gods themselves, she's the kind of beauty one might risk everything for, even if it means burning in hell.
Half slut, half-witch, one hundred percent capital bitch. Although she is the third oldest. She is my first sister who made her grand debut in human society.
Better known as Alice Kyteler. She was known for her extravagant lifestyle and her powerful magical abilities. She was also reputed to be a cunning fiery woman and was often accused of witchcraft. She was eventually tried and convicted of witchcraft and was executed, or so they thought.
Again, mother would never allow that to happen. Mother orchestrated an elaborate illusion, weaving her magic to create the illusion of Celeste's demise. As the flames consumed the pyre, the townspeople cheered, believing they had rid themselves of a menace.
Little did they know, Mother had already spirited Celeste away, granting her the power to reduce the town to ashes and then enchant the survivors into thinking they had witnessed a just execution. With the townsfolk none the wiser, Celeste's legend persisted, while she continued to walk among them, cloaked in the shadows of her sorcery.
Celeste's mastery over fire is unparalleled; she could summon blazing infernos with a mere flick of her wrist. Her fiery wrath was both feared and revered, capable of reducing entire villages to smoldering ruins.
Her power was so immense that even the bravest dared not cross her, knowing that a single misstep could ignite her temper and unleash an unstoppable storm of flames, but I'm not most.
I hate this bitch with a passion. I love my next sister so much more than this bitch. I actually prefer my next sister centuries over top of centuries more.
Margaret Le Fay. ( The Black Sheep)
Beautiful cat-like eyes, shiny raven hair, and sculpted chin. Controlling the weather is her signature power. If she wants to, she can rain hell on earth. Her magic is elemental. In human history, she is better known as Margaret Barclay. She was a spirited, high-tempered, young woman who wrecked ships and conjured storms.
There is only one truth to the legends surrounding my sister. Everything else that humans told their children after that was a human effort to make them feel better when they tucked them in at night.
The TRIAL OF MARGARET BARCLAY, the most notable case in Irvine, was a flat-out lie. No one strangled or burned her at the stake. Again, my mother would never allow such a thing. The only difference between this sister and any of the others is that Margaret didn't wait for our mother to save her.
Her hotheadedness prevents her from doing so. By doing what she does best, Margaret saved herself. With her partner in crime Isabel Bennett, known as Isabel Crawford during that time, she conjured up the biggest storm in history. Together, they killed millions, and my dearest mother was forced to clean up the mess.
The result was a centuries-long feud between mother and daughter, establishing Margaret as the black sheep. Margaret often runs with our oldest sister, who shares her fiery spirit and disdain for our mother's strict ways. The two bonded over their mutual rebellion. I love them so much.
However, my next sister on the other hand is one of my absolute favorites.
Minerva Marie Le Fay. (The Wise One)
She was known to humans as Marie Laveau, the "Voodoo Queen" of New Orleans, who was reputed to have healing powers. My sister played a significant role in shaping the cultural and spiritual landscape of the city.
Her influence extended beyond her spiritual practices, as she was also a community leader and confidante to many, bridging racial and social divides. Before the wrecking her legacy was celebrated in New Orleans for centuries, with her story deeply intertwined with the city's rich history and traditions.
Of all my sisters, she is the only one whose legacy in the human world holds a billion truths, although some things may have been altered over time. In spite of this, there is a lot of truth in it.
Even though, my sister specializes in ancestral magic that flows from her father's voodoo roots she's also known for her deep connection to nature, often practicing her craft by using herbs and natural remedies to heal and protect.
My mother refers to her as a Green Witch because she can harness the power of the earth, utilizing plants and natural elements in her rituals and ceremonies.
My respect for the natural world was evident in her teachings, which emphasized balance, harmony, and the healing properties of the environment.
In addition to her craft, she was blessed with striking physical features that captivated everyone who met her. Her curly chestnut brown hair framed her face perfectly, while her vivid gemstone green eyes seemed to hold the wisdom of generations. This enchanting appearance only added to her allure, making her presence unforgettable. If you haven't noticed she's sort of my role model of a sister. I love her so much.
Think of her as the little angel who sits on my left shoulder every day. As for my next sister, she is like a little devil on my right shoulder.
Nyx Isobel Le Fay. (The Ride or Die.)
She's my best friend. My A One-Day One! From the womb to the tomb. I can't imagine centuries without her. Nyx is an eclectic witch, who has a strange connection with the sea and cosmetic ventures surprisingly enough. She practices all forms of witchcraft. However, the element of water is the one that she manipulates the most. Known best during her time among humans as The Spirited Isobel Gowden.
During that time, she was famous for being a Green Scottish witch or the cottars witch wife and just so you know, she never really loved him. I don't even remember his name, John or Jim maybe? Who knows, he was just a poor human being that my sister decided to study during her time with the humans. Either way, Nyx left a lasting impact on witchcraft with her deep understanding and mastery of water magic.
Her ability to channel the ocean's energy and use it for healing and protection became legendary among her peers. Her teachings and spells continue to inspire new generations of witches who seek to harness the power of water and lately her latest conquer is earth. Nyx has begun to delve into the mysteries of earth magic with the same fervor she once applied to water.
She spends hours communing with the soil and rocks, feeling their ancient energies and learning to bend them to her will. Her newfound abilities allow her to grow plants with unnatural speed and strength, and even manipulate the ground itself for protection and defense. She's brilliant and beautiful as heck.
Her dark caramel hair that falls down her back in soft waves, catching the light with a warm, golden sheen that complements her smoky green eyes. Those eyes, with their mysterious and aura, are framed by perfectly arched eyebrows that add a touch of elegance to her pretty pie-shaped face. Her features are harmoniously balanced, exuding a timeless beauty that captivates anyone who gazes upon her just all of us.
There is nothing that I wouldn't do for her. She's my girl. My next sister holds a place in my heart as well.
Amie Deyer Le Fay. (The Voice of Reason)
The voice of reason or not, all I know is that you better listen when she speaks unless you want to face the wrath of her wicked tongue. Have you ever heard the statement seek what you seek? I'm a firm believer that the theory was formed because of my sister.
She has an uncanny ability to make your wildest dreams come true with just a few words, weaving possibilities into reality. Conversely, if you cross her, she can just as easily summon your deepest fears, turning them into waking nightmares. Her words hold a power that demands both awe and caution.
Fluent in hexes and curses, I advise you not to get on her bad side. As a divination witch, Amie mastered the elements of earth, air, and spirit, the deadliest element of all. She also has the ability to peer into the future, which is unparalleled, allowing her to foresee events with startling accuracy.
This gift of foresight has kept many from straying onto perilous paths, though her visions are often cryptic and require careful interpretation. It's said that to dismiss her warnings is to invite disaster upon oneself. She's a force to be wrecked with for sure.
My sisters and I tend to listen to her most of the time, but the rest of the world certainly fears her. During her time with the humans they called her by the boring name of Moll Dyer. I hate that name.
It's utterly significant to note that my sister has always been obsessed with the sea, stars and humans throughout her entire life which is why she would live near humans to study them.
In any case, she was accused of witchcraft during the 17th century. The story goes that she was chased out of her home and found dead a few days later, having frozen to death in the cold. Only to haunt the region and its residents for centuries.
First and foremost, my sister never runs from anything or anyone. Before that happens, she would rather rip out her tongue and choke on her own words, and that will never happen either.
Now what she did do was treat others how they seemed to treat her. With her sinful tongue, she cursed that town and its residents, generation after generation to come before freezing the entire town to death and then denying those ratchet souls the right to transition to the next life and being morally wrong, she has no problem with it.
The end.
As a result of my mother's little spell, the stories that humans told about her were figments of their imaginations.
Jade Le Fay. ( The Free Spirited Neice)
She's a cosmic witch who also mastered the craft of crystals. Her unique abilities allow her to harness the power of the stars and planets, using their energies to enhance her spells and rituals.
She can align her crystals with celestial events, amplifying their effects and channeling cosmic forces for healing and transformation. Her deep connection with the universe enables her to read astrological charts with precision, guiding others on their spiritual journeys.
Although, my niece had an itch to desperately leave her mark on this world without creating chaos. She envisioned a new narrative where witches were seen as wise and benevolent figures, deeply connected to nature and the cosmos.
By showcasing their role as healers and protectors, she aimed to dispel the old myths and stereotypes. Through public demonstrations of her craft and collaborations with human communities, she sought to illuminate the true essence of witchcraft as a force for good.
She also wanted humans to understand that while witches could be compassionate and nurturing, they possessed immense power that should not be underestimated.
Her demonstrations included not only healing and guidance but also displays of their formidable abilities, ensuring respect and caution from those who might challenge them.
By balancing her message, she aimed to cultivate both admiration and a healthy fear, reinforcing the importance of harmony between witches and humans.
My little sweetheart used to allow humans to follow her around, document her life, and then produce what used to be modern-day media.
Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Charmed, and even Bonnie Bennett from The Vampire Diaries and so much more all stemmed from my little love ventures.
As humans became captivated by the enchanting stories and charismatic portrayals of witches in the media, they began to view them with fascination and admiration.
The characters showcased in films and television offered a glimpse into the mystical world, sparking a newfound appreciation and curiosity for the supernatural.
This shift in perception allowed witches to be seen not just as mythical figures, but as relatable and inspiring personalities who embodied both strength and vulnerability.
Of course, my mother is no fun! She made sure that every human Jade interacted with's memory was wiped.
My mother, ever the protective figure, was adamant about safeguarding her only granddaughter from any potential threat that exposure to humans might bring and to safe guard our people.
She believed that the risk of revealing their true nature could attract unwanted attention and danger. Her firm stance was rooted in love and caution, prioritizing Jade's safety above all else.
Therefore, they would believe that they were just clever TV show writers.
As if those humans were capable of coming up with even half of what transpired. Either way, I was so proud of Jade my teenage witch niece for leaving her mark, her way during the human days.
Bonnie Blackwell (My Father's Wicked Sister)
Though, not a Le Fay! The Blackwell name holds a lot of weight. In fact, they are the second most powerful witch family in the world of witches and they happen to be my father's side of the family. Their influence extends across multiple realms, with members holding key positions in the Council of Witches and other magical institutions.
The Blackwells are known for their mastery of ancient spells and formidable magical texts library. Their alliances with powerful families ensure that they maintain a significant role in shaping the magical community's future.
My aunt, a prominent Blackwell herself, has always been a guiding light in my life, offering wisdom and support whenever I needed it. She has taught me the intricacies of spellcasting and instilled in me the values of our family, while also providing the love and nurturing care that only a mother figure can give.
Her presence has been a source of strength and comfort, helping me navigate the complexities of both the magical and mundane worlds. She is not just my aunt but also a revered ceremonial witch, known for leading elaborate rituals that harness powerful energies.
As the leader of the second largest witch coven in the magical realm, she commands respect and loyalty from witches far and wide. Her leadership has been pivotal in uniting various factions, fostering a sense of unity and purpose within the witch world.
My mother hates her and the feeling is certainly mutual. Despite their differences, when it comes to me they have always been able to put them to the side.
I am the bridge between my families, embodying qualities from both sides that they admire and cherish. On top of that, my father would never allow my aunt to cross that line, not that it matters. My mother would destroy my aunt.
Either way, my father is renowned as the most powerful warlock to ever exist, wielding magic that could bend the very fabric of reality.
Blaise Blackwell. ( My Power Hungry Father)
My mother and father were a perfect match. Not.
Both of them used each other for their power. The alliance was forged with the intention of growing their magical powers and influence.
In a magical hierarchy ruled by women, my father saw my mother's unmatched abilities as the key to elevating his status. While my mother recognized my father's connections and political acumen as invaluable assets in navigating the complex web of magical politics, by acting as her eyes and ears when she wasn't around to control the other witches.
Which means, my mother expanded my father's reach and secured his dominance in the magical community.
Which is rare, because in the witches' world women rule. Warlocks don't hold as much power as witches. Providing a seat at the table for my father tipped the scales.
It's most likely was to demonstrate to my aunt that she really holds the power, despite her frequent absences.
Additionally, I am guessing that my mother decided that procreating with someone who belongs to the second most powerful witch family in this world would reap its benefits by creating such powerful offspring, me being that offspring.
This was a sign of my mother's strength and cunning, and a testament to her influence and intelligence. She was a formidable force in the magical world, and her actions will always have a lasting impact.
In conclusion, my birth was as exciting as it sounds, a wicked business deal. Transactional, no matter how much my parents try to deny it.
Regardless, my father's unmatched skills and strength are unmatched, and he often mediated disputes among the most formidable magical beings. It is impossible to find a warlock alive that possesses his abilities, or who has offspring with the legend herself Aurora.
In the world of witches, the stories of my father's exploits have inspired fear and admiration in the hearts of people who have heard them, and probably why I am his favorite and only child. Because my mother gave him fame, he considers me to be his lucky charm, but his niece is my lucky charm.
Beatrice Blackwell (My Lucky Charm)
My cool cousin. She's super sweet yet super tart. She's a divination witch. Tarot and scrying are her aesthetics, and she has a keen sense of the universe's signs. I consider her to be my little oracle. She often reads the patterns in the clouds or the way leaves scatter in the wind to gain insight.
Additionally, she listens to her intuition to decipher hidden messages in everyday occurrences, like the songs of birds or the timing of a phone call. Her ability to connect with these subtle signals helps her guide others with surprising accuracy. Her uncanny ability to sense what others might overlook makes her a powerful presence in any room.
Other witches often seek her guidance, drawn to her seemingly magical insights that have an uncanny way of predicting outcomes. It's as if she has a direct line to the mysteries of the universe, offering wisdom that feels both ancient and profound.
We share a bond that goes beyond mere family ties, feeling more like sisters than cousins. We often finish each other's sentences, and our connection is so strong that we can sense each other's emotions even from a distance.
Whether it's sharing secrets late into the night or supporting each other through life's challenges, our relationship is a deep and unbreakable sisterhood. Let's just say that Beatrice is Bae.
The holder of all my secrets. However, nobody in my family means more to me than her.
My Headache.
Juniper Le Fay. ( The headache)
The ache in my head, the ache in my heart, and the only reason I exist. She is the youngest of my sisters and the apple of their eyes because she is so unique.
As you may know, most of my sisters and I are not friendly.
Our bad blood against one another ceases to exist when it comes to Juniper. We barely even act as if each other exists. Since Juniper is human, she cannot cast spells and doesn't have powers nor can she protect herself in any shape, nor can she cast spells like the rest of us. Her witch blood is the only reason why she was blessed with immortality.
Yes, you heard me correctly! Juniper was conceived, carried, and born by our all-powerful mother, and the best part is that no one knows she exists. She is our most valuable and best-kept secret.
She is one of my most treasured secrets, and I will do everything I can to keep her safe.
Which brings me to me, Esmeralda Le Fay the overachiever. Being the middle child sucks! No one listens to you like they do the oldest and no one protects you like they do the youngest. Being the fifth child of nine is even more difficult.
Esmeralda (The Overachiever )
I've learned to do almost everything myself and because of the fact that I'm my mother's only child that she bared with a warlock I'm expected to be the most proficient at every single thing and I am.
I've become proficient in potion-making, spell-casting, and divination, mastering each discipline with ease.
My abilities in elemental magic are unparalleled, allowing me to control fire, water, earth, and air with precision.
Additionally, I've delved into the art of enchantments and can weave complex charms that are the envy of even the most seasoned witches.
I can conjure illusions so lifelike that they blur the line between reality and fantasy, leaving even the most discerning minds bewildered.
My foresight enables me to glimpse into the future with uncanny accuracy, revealing potential outcomes and guiding my decisions.
When provoked, I'm capable of delivering a curse so potent that it clings to its target with unrelenting vengeance, ensuring my reputation as a formidable force in the magical realm and I still haven't touched the surface of half of the power I hold.
From the moment I was born, my mother prepared me to inherit her legacy as the most powerful witch.
She surrounded me with ancient tomes and rare artifacts, instilling in me the knowledge and skills necessary to excel in the magical arts. Under her watchful eye, I honed my abilities through rigorous training and countless challenges. This ensured that I would one day surpass even her formidable prowess.
My sisters didn't envy my abilities; instead, they pitied me for the immense burden that came with them. None of us truly desired to take our mother's position, for it was a role laden with overwhelming responsibilities and endless expectations. Being connected to our creator was said to be both a blessing and a curse, granting immense power but also demanding constant sacrifice and vigilance.
My mother, ever devoted to prophecies, even sacrificed her bond with us to raise another offspring destined by fate. She poured centuries of her life into waiting for the golden-haired chosen one, a child prophesied to shape the future of the magical realm.
Her unwavering dedication meant that her attention was often diverted, leaving us to navigate our own paths. She focused on nurturing this powerful being, hoping her sacrifices would one day be justified and that's why we hate her.
It crushed me deeply because, for so long, I believed her sporadic presence in my life meant I was cherished and important.
Yet, I realized that my mother only valued me for my potential to secure the future of the witches. The realization that I was merely a tool in her grand scheme left a hollow ache within, as the love I craved was overshadowed by her relentless pursuit of fate.
Imagine our conversation after I had a premonition of my paramour, another configuration in my mother's plan to save the world. It's fate she said.
Eight kings and queens are meant to accompany the golden hair chosen on her tragic journey, she said.
That fucking golden hair was chosen. I refused to be another pawn in my mother's fate-driven narrative, determined to break free from the chains of destiny she had so meticulously forged. I vowed to carve my own path, embracing my magic on my own terms rather than being bound by her grand design.
My defiance became my strength, as I chose to nurture my own dreams and desires, rejecting the notion that my life was merely a chapter in someone else's prophecy and as for my paramour.
The malicious vampire king. My Paramour.
Over a century ago, I had a vision of him sleeping with my sister during the same exact day that we met and that alone blew every opportunity which we would have ever had. Yet, even when the day came.
I was crushed. There was no way I could have prepared myself. You see, visions, while seemingly set in stone, are not immutable truths; they are glimpses of potential outcomes shaped by the choices we make.
They serve as warnings or guides, highlighting the paths we might take but are subject to the influence of free will.
As decisions are made, the threads of fate can weave an entirely different tapestry, transforming the future in unexpected ways. I hoped against hope that he would defy the vision and choose a path different from the one foretold.
I prayed fervently to my creator that he would see beyond the illusions of fate and recognize the bond we could share. Yet, when our eyes finally met, the cold indifference in his gaze shattered my hopes, while my sister's wicked smile only deepened the betrayal.
Years later, the fool decides to host a bullshit love game show to make fun of his journey to find his beloved as if he didn't once look right past me. His foolish behavior infuriates me, as it mocks the very notion of true love and belittles the genuine connection we were supposed to share.
It was as if he wanted to trivialize his bond with his beloved for the sake of entertainment, and I'm his beloved that he didn't even want.
His audacity was nothing short of a plea for retribution, and he seemed blissfully unaware of the storm he was inviting upon himself. With every jest and mockery, he etched his own downfall, daring me to unleash the full extent of my wrath.
At this point, he was practically begging for a vindictive curse, and I was more than willing to oblige, ready to remind him that fate was not a game to be trifled with and that the consequences of his folly would be dire and that's exactly what I came to do.
So, imagine my surprise when I arrived in his kingdom to curse the rest of his useless existence for this fool to turn around and declare that I'm his beloved on national television in front of the entire world, proclaiming that it's fate.
Ha! I guess it is. He's fatally fucked.
