Begin and End
They stood over the crib, tears filling their eyes while watching the three tiny infants sleep. Deep in their hearts both parents knew this would be the last time the five of them would be together as a family.
The night wind howled above the little cottage and echoed down through the chimney. Embers flickered off of the small fire that burned in the fire place. The lite elemental candles and the burning fire and the iridescent glows simmering off of the sleeping infants, was enough to illuminate the cottage.
At this moment in time, the only thing that mattered was the safety of these three precious gems. Connor moved away from the crib and began moving the elemental candles to the northern, southern, eastern and western point within the studio cottage. Unbeknownst to Shannon, he also began dropping a single drop of his blood onto the wick of each candle then relighting it while softly whispering a simple spell.
The front door opened with a gust of wind just as the last drop of blood fell onto the wick of the last candle. Raven rushed in the room and focused in on the crib as Connor whispered his last spell and relight the final candle.
“I’m sorry, I tried to get here as quickly as possible. Let me see them!” Raven hurried toward Shannon, who was leaning over the crib with her back towards the window on the far end of the room.
Shannon looked up and with tension consumed her face and her voice was filled with nervousness as her Raven approached, “Did anyone follow you? Were you careful, we can’t take any chances! This could cost us all our lives!”
“I know, I know, no one followed me, I made sure of it.” Rayven replied as she removed her coat, tossing it onto the couch. Approaching Shannon, she removed the heavy bag from her shoulder and embrace Shannon as if they hadn’t seen each other three day ago.
Rayven look into the crib. “Oh my, blessed be...they’re radiating so much power. I thought it was my own anxiety that was suffocating me as I drove up to the cottage. Shannon their aura, it’s, it’s giving of so much pressure. It’s like I have a weight pressing down on my chest. How long has this been going on?” Rayven’s words were saturated with distress and fear inflamed her face.
With a cry in her voice and attempting to hold back tears, “Ray, it’s started about an hour before I called you to come over. Connor and I have been trying ever spell we know to contain or hide the power but nothing seems to hold up.”
While Shannon continued talking, Rayven reached into her bag and pull out a large wooden bowl and the silver laced dagger. Each item appeared very old, almost antique. The dagger was beautiful, the handle was wrapped in leather and the blade appeared to hand carved. The leather on the handle was stained. The wooden bowl was primitive, hand dug into a round shape that was uneven on one side, so that the contents could be easily poured. The pouring edge and the interior of the bowl looked as though there were layers of dried fluid to include blood. They were family ceremonial heirlooms, passed down from generation to generation.
Grasping the bowl and placing it into the crib Shannon explained, “We’ve already put up numerous barrier spells attempting to keep their power contained within the cottage but somehow, and we don’t know how, their strength keeps breaking through the barrier spells.”
“We’ve been able to anticipate the exact moment they will break the barrier. So, we’ve been resurrecting the new barrier in time to keep it concealed. But I don’t think we can keep it up for much longer.” Connor’s face was covered in exhaustion from the continuous use of magic.
With each attempt the infants grew stronger. It's as if they are instinctively surpassing the last strength level of their parent’s last barrier spell.
While reaching for a hand from each of the women in order to form a circle around the crib, Connor interrupted, “Everything is ready, we need to perform the severing spell in order to break the blood bond that connects them. We need to do it before they become too powerful for us to bind and we need to hurry before the Council begins to feel the presence of their power.”
It would take the combined powers a witch, a vampire and a werewolf to break the natural blood bond of these children. This would hide the children’s true power and protect their identity and the lineage of the children from the Council of Others.
Many generations ago, a Warlock by the name of Micah, the Coven’s story keeper, a type of historian, uncovered an old scroll that spoke of The Blessed Three, arriving under a blood moon, and brought forth by forbidden love. These three would unit all, under one reign and bring an end to the world as it existed.
Micah’s interpreted the scrolls as triplets born under a blood moon, who would overthrow all those in power and bring about the end of the world. This interpretation was given to the Council of Others and they in turn decreed that all children born under the blood moon would be put to death. The decreed also banned every Witch, Warlock, Fae, Elf, Wear Animal or Vampire from bring forth new life under a blood moon.
Shannon bent over and kissed each child on the crown of their head, then snipped off a lock of hair and placed the locks of hair in the bowl. Shannon, Rayven and Connor stood surrounding the crib and raised their right hands over the bowl. Rayven looked at the couple, “Are you sure you are ready to make this sacrifice?”
They looked down at the three infants who remained sleeping. Looking at each other, Shannon and Connor leaned in for one last kiss. They then turned to Rayven and nodded their heads in affirmation of the willingness to sacrifice anything for the safety of these three beautiful children. The carving on the blade of the silver dagger read, “Mo chroi,” interpreted my pulse, my heart, the true cost of blood magic.
Rayven was the first to cut her hand. Then she handed the dagger to Shannon who cut her hand. The women held their hands tightly to stop the flow of blood until Connor had cut his hand. Each let the blood drop into the bowl and over the locks of hair. Each lock becoming saturated with the blood that flowed from all three bloodlines. The wind howled like an angry wolf, shaking the exterior of the cottage. Each of them began reciting the spell in unison. The power of the spell lifted each of infants, hovering over the crib. As the infants ascended, Rayven, Shannon and Connor’s eyes shot open. Their eyes were engulfed with the blood magic turning them pitch black. The power swelled through all six of them, then at the point of the magic’s crescendo, lightning crashed, thunder rolled, and rain beat down on the cottage. The wind, lightening and rain seemed to hit the cottage from all directions, north, south, east and west. Then suddenly with a deafening crash the door blew open, snuffing out all the lights in tiny cottage.