Chapter 1
Witches in children’s books are hideous, with a loud cackle, pointy hats, and black robes. They are known to be evil sorceresses with huge cauldrons who ride broomsticks and eat people.
A witch of the ‘Circle of the Phoenix fire’ stood before a long ornate mirror. What the mirror reflected wasn’t anything like the description above. However, the sight was indeed gruesome.
The burned skin, visible flesh, and some bones gave her the look of a demon from hell. On the other hand, her body was perfectly lean with curves in the right places in a beautiful burgundy dress made of silk.
The witch groaned in pain. Her hands moved bottles around in a crate. She took one out with a unique red marking and forced its contents down her throat. Her light amber eyes glimmered with hope and expectation.
Within moments her grotesque skin transformed into a flawless, healthy porcelain one with flushed pink cheeks. Even her other attractive features became prominent; Her gorgeous ebony black wavy locks down to her hips and her pleasantly symmetrical face with plump rosy lips.
The witch’s name was Elvira Cain. And no, she hadn’t taken a potion for youth and beauty because the pretty sight in the mirror was her true self. Humans told their children all sorts of lies about witches and warlocks: the male equivalent of a witch. But in reality, they didn’t look any different from humans.
The previous gruesome reflection was another bitter truth- a horrible curse. Yes, Elvira was a cursed witch. Witches and warlocks were aesthetically pleasing but no less deadly or malicious than in storybooks.
Witches worshipped underworld deities for more power and other unimaginable benefits. Each deity’s approval required a price. Riion, one of the most powerful deities of the underworld, took delight in blood sacrifice and war. And Daxaos, a less powerful deity, was pleased by the use of witchcraft. It gave evil a sneaky way to strike upon others and to achieve their deepest darkest desires without getting their own hands dirty.
Elvira and her coven worshipped Daxaos and provided the service of witchcraft to humans and other interested magical beings. She had also heard stories from her coven elderlies about their dark past: A time when they used to slaughter people to please Riion. They eventually had to stop after a bloody war that still haunted them.
“Miss Elvira,” a little boy, probably nine years old, entered the room.
“Oh no, not again,” Elvira grunted in frustration, “You best be gone now, little warlock. I am not in the mood to talk.”
“Please, Miss Elvira. I came to you with such high hopes. Please tell me how you defeated those wizards all by yourself at such a young age. I want to be exactly like you when I grow up. Please tell me your secret, so I can also protect our village from those nasty wizards.”
Wizards! Not a day went by without someone uttering that filthy word. They were witches’ and warlocks’ mortal enemies since anyone alive could remember. Wizards were powerful snooty magical creatures who thought they were better than anyone else because they could not perform witchcraft and weren’t interested in the underworld and its business.
“Not now, child! I want to rest,” Elvira pointed at the door.
“Please, Miss Elvira,” The child kneeled and begged her, “At least give me a short version of it. I want to boast about your bravery to all my friends.”
“Fine,” Elvira rolled her eyes. The child took a seat on her floor with a sweet smile of satisfaction on his face.
Elvira sighed and sat on her bed. The little warlock had unknowingly asked her about a rather haunting memory. An experience that still gave her goosebumps and nightmares.
“Around a hundred and eight two years ago, when I was only thirteen...,” began Elvira.
“Ew, you are so old,” the child scrunched his nose.
“Hey, mister!” Elvira glared at the boy, “That’s how we age. We finish puberty fast, like humans, and then the aging slows. Who knows, you might live up to a thousand years.”
“That’s a lot of time,” The child’s innocent eyes glimmered with wonder, “I hope I can be as awesome as you when I finally do.”
Elvira suppressed a smile, “Well, back then, I had a chance to assist some experienced witches and warlocks in witchcraft outside of the village.”
“Outside of the village?” The child’s eyes widened in fear, “Isn’t witchcraft only allowed within the walls of our village?”
“Well, child,” Elvira crossed her legs and shook her head, “There is so much you don’t know, but I’ll tell you because everyone deserves to know.”
The child moved closer to Elvira and was desperate to hear more.
“Centuries ago, our elders lived in the strongest witch kingdom of the world, Zovell. And a little time before I was born, the wizards attacked our kingdom. The city fell, and they brutally murdered the monarch and his wife. Some princes and princesses survived and escaped. They split into four groups with the rest of the survivors and went into hiding around the globe. I don’t know about the whereabouts of the other three.”
“Wow,” The child’s mouth was wide open, “You just blew my mind. Is there anything more?”
There was, but it would be too much for a young child. Wizards were the reason they had to stop worshipping Riion. After the fall of Zovell, Riion wasn’t happy with the survivors. To survive and get on the good side of corrupted humans and other magical beings, they switched to Daxaos and started performing witchcraft for others.
“Well, yes, we have yet to finish my encounter with the wizards,” said Elvira.
“Oh yes, do that, please,” the child eagerly jumped forward until he was an inch away from her feet.
Elvira felt strangely proud, “So, amid a witchcraft spell that we were performing for a human prince in a hut in the middle of a forest, the wizards ambushed us. I was young and extremely terrified. The others rushed outside to deal with them and told me to hide under a table. I heard a lot of screaming, and then minutes later, the door opened...”
The child’s expressions were becoming more fearful by the second.
“I thought them to be my companions, but no, the person who had entered was wearing different boots. I shivered in fear as if I was a helpless little girl. The man reached for me under the table, and I fainted on the spot,” Elvira finished with a clap of the hands.
“So, did you wake up later and beat those wizards?” asked the child.
“No,” Elvira laughed and shook her head, “I woke up in a human town where the wizards had left me. They took for me a poor human girl that the witches had trapped to sacrifice. See, all witches and wizards can sense each other’s true kind by sensing specific magic energy that we give off naturally, But I am one of the special ones. No one can sense my energy as that’s my gift.”
The child’s face fell, “That was the dumbest thing I ever heard. You are no hero. You are just a coward who hides her magic. I am out of here. You will never be a real witch.”
Elvira was too shocked to respond, so she let the child walk out of the hut without another word.
The child was at least right about one thing. Elvira wasn’t happy with most of the ways of the witches and found some of them to be very brutal. Her goal wasn’t to be a perfect witch.
Someone knocked at the door again. It wasn’t the little boy who had come to throw insults at her again, but instead, a messenger, “Grand Enchantress Lilith commands your presence outside the boundary of the village right now.”
It gave Elvira goosebumps every time someone took that name. Lilith was the most vicious witch, the former princess of the fallen kingdom Zovell, the leader of her coven, and the greatest worshipper of Riion at her time. And sadly, Elvira’s birth mother.
