Prologue Part 1
Isabeau heard the thumping of someone running her way through the trees. She placed the herbs she was collecting into her basket and rose. Moments later, her sister entered the clearing, gasping for breath. Isabeau made her way over to her sister.
“Is everything alright, Bonne?” she asked concerned.
Between breaths, Bonne said, “He is…back. Bastian…He has returned.”
Isabeau hooked her basket over one arm and linked her other through Bonne’s. “Then let us return as well.” They hurried through the trees to the village.
When they entered their cottage at the edge of the village, Isabeau and Bonne saw Bastian sitting at the small table with their brother, Geoffrey.
“Bastian! I am glad to see you are well,” Isabeau said. “What news?”
Bastian, who had stood as soon as the girls had entered the cottage, strode to her and grasped her hands. “I believe I have found a way, but I have learned of some troubling things also. It might be best to discuss it with everyone all together.”
A look of worry creased Isabeau’s face, and Bastian squeezed her hands gently.
“Is it grave news then?” Bonne asked.
“Let us gather the others, and then we will hear all that you have to say, Bastian,” Geoffrey said, rising from his seat.
***
Seven people sat together on a blanket in the same clearing Isabeau was gathering herbs in earlier that day. A small picnic of bread, cheese, and dried meats was laid out in front of them, and they were casually snacking.
“I am glad to see you have returned whole and healthy, Bastian,” Anne said.
“Agreed,” everyone else chorused, raising their glasses to Bastian.
Bastian nodded in thanks.
“Shall we get down to the matter at hand then?” Geoffrey asked.
Bastian nodded again and set down his cup. “First of all, I have found information that allowed me to create the spell we were looking for. However, I am uncertain whether it would be prudent for us to enact it.”
Agnes sat up straighter. “Whyever not?”
“In the last two villages that I visited, there were rumblings of a new publication that has started making its rounds. According to the covens that I spoke with, it details horrid mistruths of witches and witchcraft and how to detect and convict supposed witches.” Anne gasped and raised her hand to her throat. Bastian continued, “The feelings of the people are shifting with the circulation of these foul assertions. I heard tell of at least three women accused and put to death for presumed evil practices. I was led to believe that none of them were practitioners or part of a coven, but it is only a matter of time.”
The members of the coven grew paler the longer Bastian spoke.
Jakob drained the wine in his cup. “We are far from the city. Do you really believe we are in danger of such atrocities?”
Bastian hesitated before responding. “When I heard of the situation…I was filled with an oppressive feeling of dread.” He looked at everyone in the circle, his eyes landing on Isabeau. “I fear we will not be safe here. A coven this large will draw much unwanted attention from entities with ill intent toward witches. If my spell has the desired effect, will it draw more attention to us, or allow us to hide more easily?”
Geoffrey rubbed his hand along his jaw in contemplation.
“You suggest we leave our home as well as the power contained in The Source?” Anne questioned.
“I think it is early for such a drastic response,” Geoffrey reasoned. “I believe it best to continue with the ritual. If the situation escalates as your feelings suggest, we may need any assistance we can gain from The Source to survive. That is not to say that we let our guard down regarding the rising animosity. We must stay vigilant and hide our magic from any outside of our coven.”
He looked around the group.
“Is everyone in agreement, or has anyone other thoughts to add?” Geoffrey asked.
“That course of action seems to be the best to my mind,” Isabeau answered.
“I agree,” Jakob added while the rest nodded their assent.
Bonne, who had clutched her sister’s hand tightly through the discussion, had become as white as an apparition. She took a shaky breath and asked, “What is required for the ritual?” trying to shift the conversation onto something hopefully less terrifying.
“There are a few herbs that we will need to gather, and the ritual must take place on a full moon. Aside from these things, there are precise symbols that I will have to mark around The Source to draw out and transfer the power. It is our good fortune that there are seven of us, because that is the number of practitioners required,” Bastian stated.
“The next full moon is in a week’s time. Is this sufficient time for your calculations?” Agnes asked.
“It should be,” Bastian answered. “Isa, you are most knowledgeable on where herbs can be located. If I give you a list, could you find them for us?”
“If they can be found near here, yes,” Isabeau said nodding.
“I was able to acquire the foreign herbs that are needed from markets and those whom I garnered information from. There are only a few left that should be around here,” Bastian told her.
Jakob moved to his knees to gather up their picnic. “I feel it will be best to avoid each other outside of normal interactions in town until the ritual. The less attention we draw, the better.”
Nods and mumbles of concurrence ran through the group as they all helped collect their things.
The men assisted the women to their feet, and they made their way back to the village.
---
Having carved the last of the symbols into the dirt, Bastian stood and wiped his brow with his sleeve. Isabeau emerged from the trees, basket in hand, and made her way over to him.
“I gathered as much as I could find. Will it be enough?” She asked him, stretching out her arms, so he could peer into the backet.
“I believe so,” he said, taking the basket from her.
“The others should be here soon,” Isabeau told him.
He nodded and started placing herbs meticulously around the large Oak tree in the center of his design. Isabeau looked at the sturdy tree that was intertwined around an outcropping of smooth stone with veins of what seemed to be opal running through it. She had never seen the likes before. As far as Isabeau could determine, as the oak grew, it incorporated the stone into itself. None of the coven could discern if the power came from the majestic tree, the unusual stone, or the combined attributes of both.
Isabeau knew that oak tree nymphs held the strongest magical power, but there was no nymph residing in The Source. It was a mysterious blessing they had stumbled upon that allowed them to enact every class of spells with no impact on their personal magic capacity. Something that had never been heard of before.
Bastian drew her attention back from her wandering thoughts.
“Isa, would you please lay these bundles at the tip of each point along the outside symbol? There is one for each of us.”
“Of course,” Isabeau replied walking over to grab the herb bundles.
Geoffrey and Bonne entered the clearing as she placed the last of the herbs. Anne, Agnes, and Jakob followed shortly after.
“It is almost ready,” Bastian told them as he took a small branch from a fire at the edge of the clearing and lit smaller braziers inside the symbols.
“What do you need of us, Bastian?” Geoffrey questioned.
“Each one of us will stand at a point in the outer ring holding the herbs there. Do you all remember the phrases I told you?”
They all nodded in affirmation. Bastian nodded in return.
“After I pour the oil on The Source and return to my spot, we will all chant. Make sure you are channeling through your own magic using the collective pathway. That is what will form the connection between us and The Source,” Bastian instructed them. He glanced up at the position of the moon while the others took their places.
