Writing Prompt

Life was not easy for Danna Her parents gave her in adoption because they were too poor to raise her, leaving her at the mercy of the orphanage evil people. Multiple families tried to adopt her, they took her to their house but all of them ended up returning her. Danna always wondered what was wrong with her, and why did the people despised her so much. One day, she found a little kitten about to get hit by a car. This kitten shortly became her only best friend. They grew up together and named the kitten Goldy. At 17 years old, she started working on a bakery to save money to rent an apartment, since the orphanage would not have her anymore. She was scared, lonely, and suffering from all the questions she had. Where were their parents? Are they better after so many years? Soon, her questions were answered. On a rainy day, her mother arrived to the bakery. She had never seen her, but her mom immediately recognized her daughter and cried. Danna felt pity for the woman but didn't know what happened to her. Until her mom confessed who she was. They both bursted into tears and hugged each other. Danna immediately asked her how were they, why did they leave her behind and if they were better economically. Her mom frowned -We never left you, you died -Her mom said and Danna was shocked -That is not possible, I was told you left me in an orphanage because you were too poor to raise me -Danna said trembling -Me and your dad were told that you died for drowining while we were at work. We arrived and you were gone, the doctors had taken your body and they did not allow us to see you because it would cause a severe reaction in your father's epilepshia -That doesn't make any sense -Danna whispered Something was very odd about this situation and how she ended up in an orphanage, someone was behind all this. They drank a coffee together and her mom offered Danna to stay with her and reunite with her dad. She immediately accepted. They were a family again, and after a few days coming to the orphanage and leaving, she decided to move with her parents with Goldy. Goldy hated her parents and Danna would not understand why. The mistery of her dissapearance never left Danna's mind, she started investigating and sneaking into the orphanage's offices and took her expedient with her before moving to her parent's house.

There were so many questions in her head that she never realized, that Goldy was the one that drowned her and a nurse saved her and took her into the orphanage with a lie. Because no one never discovered who tried to kill the child

Until Danna discovered her magic powers in a lonely night in bed

Powers that were Goldy's biggest goal

“My paws are tired, Lilly. Let’s rest.”

Lilly sighed, turning to glare at Ansh. “We’re almost at the cabin. She’s waiting for us there.”

“Just a little rest, here in this copse. Please.” The cat looked up at Lilly with tired eyes and a somber flick of his tail.

“Fine,” she said, walking back to the trees. She sat on a stump, thinking about their long journey. From the Palace of Herst, to the rough deserts of Zar, they had been through a lot together. Battles, scars, betrayals … She looked at Ansh where he curled in a small bit of foliage. He deserved this rest. She did, too. The smell of the trees and the flowers and a nearby lake served as her lullaby, and she drifted to sleep.

When she woke, a man in dragonsteel was standing over her, holding a knife to her throat.

“Move, and I slice, Lilly.”

She recognized the voice, but it couldn’t be. She wanted to shake herself from a dream but didn’t dare move.

“Ansh,” she called, summoning her companion.

The man before her laughed. “I’m Ansh. A shapeshifter. Hired to infiltrate and destroy you. Let’s get going to the cabin, without any trick moves.”

Lilly couldn’t bring herself to speak as she stood.

One day while walking through the forest, I found a fox who looked hurt and scared. I decided to take the fox home with me, treating its wounds and giving it snacks. It was wary of me at first, always bearing its fangs and huddling in a corner, but it soon warmed up to me, letting me pet it and play with it.

We went everywhere together, rarely leaving each other's side. However, sometimes there would be nights where it would leave and not come back for a few days.

Sometimes I’d catch glances of it when it wasn’t looking. It looked sad as if it had something bothering it, but I could never figure out what, as It could not communicate with me.

Then one day, we were walking in the forest, to pick flowers to make flower crowns. It seemed very insistent on bringing me somewhere, so I followed. It led me to a cave, which was weird as I never heard of flowers that grew in them. We’d enter and I'd suddenly lose sight of the fox and start to look around. As I went deeper into the cave, I saw it, a pack of wolves.

They hadn’t noticed me, so I tried to slowly back out of the cave, but then felt a sharp pain hit my back, causing me to fall to the ground as I looked back and saw the fox. The smell of blood slowly drew the wolves' attention as they sniffed around. I stared at the little fox in confusion. Did it lead me here knowing there were wolves? But why? I had been so kind to it. I watched it morph into a wolf, staring at me for a while before letting out a howl. Then it hit me, those familiar greenish-yellow eyes of someone I thought died long ago, it was her.

I watched as she howled, catching the attention of the other wolves before she morphed back into a fox and ran off. As I watched her run off, too injured to move as I heard the sound of movement approaching me, I started to wonder how something so gentle could have such sharp claws.

The grandmother clock on the hearth ticked. Esmeralda scratched behind her ear. Raven stared out of the window at the cars passing by. Cocking his head to one side, the counselor studied the couple’s body language. One looked ready to pounce and the other seemed barely awake but was definitely alert. Tall and slim, one had a swoosh of jet black hair and annoyed dark eyes. The other was a fluffy. Looking left and right, the counselor waited. Raven tapped his foot. The counselor twirled his pen. Stretching her back, Esmeralda yawned.

“See that what I mean, Dr. Fantanbolus. Total disconnect,” Raven said. “Esme doesn’t care about working on us at all.”

“I hear you Raven, but let’s use “I” statements. Can you reframe your statement?” Dr. Fantanbolus said.

“I feel like all I do is serve her. Everything is on Esmeralda’s terms. I feel like my familiar is an asshole,” Raven said, pounding the arm of his chair.

Ears folded back, Esmeralda hissed. Raven hissed back. Blue violet light sparked from Raven’s eyes. With an angry flick , Esmeralda’s tail batted the energy back towards Raven. He screamed. The harsh sound twisted into a caw as Raven transformed into a large black bird. Shaking out of his clothes, the bird continued to caw. Raven jumped free. Knocking over a lamp, Raven flew around the therapist’s office. Dr. Fantanbolus grabbed and missed the lamp. Esmeralda made a leap for Raven, catching some tail feathers. Her chair fell backwards. The cat somersaulted and a naked woman landed on all fours.

Esmeralda stood and slipped into Raven’s abandoned shirt. Tutting, Raven landed on the clock. Stamping her foot, Esmeralda pulled a slender black feather from her mouth. The bird jumped up toppling the grandmother clock. The counselor caught the clock inches from the floor.

“Damn! It is the same every time. You’re always angry, blaming me for your craptastic magic skills. I can’t deal with it so I shut down. My bad!” Esmeralda shouted at the bird.

She grabbed the rest of Raven’s things and marched out of the therapist’s office. The door slammed and Raven banged into the picture window. With a sad caw, he landed on the window seat. The door opened.

“Come on,” Esmeralda called.

Raven flew to the door and landed on Esmeralda’s shoulder. The door slammed again. Sighing the therapist picked up the chair.

“Good session, see you next week.”

Del’s eyes shot open and her mouth opened in a gasp. Her hands twitched and gripped the ground, tiny pebbles and dirt digging into her skin. She was in a cave, sat by a small fire, which was burning a bouquet of lillies. There was a sharp pain in her side. Her eyes shot down to the arrow sticking out of her abdomen. There was a soft sound next to her, and she looked over to see a black lamb, staring at her with it’s red eyes. It bleeted again at her, and a piece of clothing fell out of its mouth. It looked like it’d been from her tunic. The small creature seemed to have dragged her here all by itself. Del grunted as she reached for the creature, softly stroking its black coat as tears fell from her eyes.

“Thank you…” Though, Aamon should have been thanking her. She was so pure, he could feel the love and innocence radiating from her palms as she caressed his coat. She’d make a fine vessel.

Apparently every princess needs an animal companion. Dacan thought that would be his in, because his cousin, princess Maes, always enjoyed feeding the wildlife. If he could gain her trust as a bird, then all he’d have to do is catch her off guard.

And then what? Well, he doesn’t want to murder her. That’s too extreme. He wouldn’t kill for the throne. If he did, he wouldn’t be fit for it.

He hadn’t thought this far into his plan yet, but he’s been considering convincing her to change career paths. A zooligist would be nice. Or a vet. All he knew was that she loved animals.

“Be back before the stroke of midnight, or else you’ll be stuck in that form until you find true love’s kiss.” The wizard warned him when he asked for help in the matter.

Dacan scowled at such risky rules. “Why couldn’t you just choose one fairytale to—“

“Because I said so.” The wizard interrupted with a sassy eye roll. “How would you feel if you made up an intricate magic system and everyone either complained or disregarded it because they can’t appreciate the effort you put into dming for them?”

“Dming?”

“You’d feel horrid!” The wizard squawked, then raised his wand to shapeshift Dacan into a bird. “Now, I know you love to visit me, but you have to run along now, I have a pedicure appointment.”

“I don’t love to visit you, I just met you.” Dacan replied bluntly.

“Very well.” The wizard nodded. “But the next time you visit me, you have to shave the top of your head and wear a top hat, then go find twenty people to greet by tipping your hat to reveal your bald spot.”

And that was the last conversation he had as a human. Now that was horrid.

It would make him look stupid if he told his story to someone someday, and said that the reason he didn’t make it back before midnight was because he forgot. So he decided to leave that part out.

In any case, Dacan did succeed in one thing. And that was befriending Maes as a bird. Over the course of the next few weeks, he’d visit her window every day, until she eventually decided to keep him. He exchange his freedom for free food. Who wouldn’t?

He came to learn that her personality wasn’t as one dimensional as he thought it was. She loved things other than animals, like ghost hunting, soap carving, and playing guitar. Well, she doesn’t play guitar as much as she used to, but she would say it’s still her hobby if anyone asks her. Who wouldn’t?

Dacan grew fond of her over the months. He loved sneaking around the palace in the middle of the night with her to find some ghosts. And he found the sound and smell of her soap carving to be really therapeutic.

He soon came to realize that cousins can be friends too. That should be more normalized. If it was, then he could’ve been doing all this with her as a human, and not a bird.

They lived in the same palace their whole lives, yet never spent time together like this.

And of course it was Maes who broke his curse with true love’s kiss on the top of his feathery head.

“Dacan?!” Maes’ jaw dropped. “You’re Mr. Birdoobabirb?!”

“Yes, I am. And I’ve never cared for that name, actually.” Dacan smiled as he ruffled the feathers off his head of hair.

“Why…?”

“Because it’s actually really ridiculous.”

“No, I mean, why were you a bird?” Maes asked in disbelief.

Dacan grimaced and shifted his gaze towards the wall. Ah, what a lovely wall to stare at when things got awkward, it even had wallpaper and everything.

He still cared about the throne, but he came to realize that she was just as good a fit for it as he was. Sure, she could be a little kooky sometimes, but all princesses were “adorkable” these days anyways.

Plus, after all their time together, he would rather give up on his plan than give up on her.

“Honestly? …I wanted to gain your trust so I can convince you to step down from your duties, and I could be the king.” Dacan confessed softly.

The realization spread across Maes’ face like peanut butter on toast. Her sigh was nearly quiet, and her brows furrowed as her lips curled up into a crooked smile. “But I have five siblings.”

“I know that! I was going to get to them after!” Dacan scoffed.

“Get to them, huh? What bird will you be next? Or will you be an imp?” Maes teased with a giggle.

“Oh, shut up.” Dacan laughed, playfully nudging her lightly.

The two of them chuckled together until their laughter died down. Maes then rubbed her chin as she pondered the issue, before speaking up once more.

“You know what? I don’t actually want to be the queen, I want to do something more fun with my life. And I know my siblings are horrible, so really, you’re the best fit for the throne.” She grinned. “And I can make that happen.”

“Really? How?” Dacan’s eyes widened with hope.

“Well… how about we pay that wizard a visit?” Maes suggested.

Dacan grimaced, rolling his head as he winced. “…I guess I have to shave my head and find a top hat.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

On the march back to Cherry Shrine, Tara checks her heels for Pearl, to ensure that cat hasn’t camouflaged into the snow banks, or run away. Pearl looks back up at her at the same time, as if checking for Tara. For a moment, she is a pair of floating blue eyes on wintry ground. She meows and exposes a sliver of pink mouth.

The other five shrine maidens are ahead, talking amongst each other, gossiping about the new artisan, Micha. He came around a month ago and the gossip has not died down—a Northern boy, fair-faced and dark-eyed, with the thick accent that syrupped his words when he spoke their tongue.

‘I get to decorate the yard after breakfast.’ Kirsten’s red frock glides against the snow path as she twirls back. ‘Micha might work outside then. I heard he will from one of the guys lodged with him.’

‘Which one?’ Aya asks. ‘And how come you’re speaking with every man in the shrine? Do you have no shame? How do I become more like you?’

The women laugh, shaking their heads. Kirsten primps her blossom-shaped white collar, grinning. ‘It was Thane who told me. Besides, men are simple creatures, Aya. Talk to one and you’ll see.’

‘Simple creatures until they want you to break every heavenly principle with them,’ Darcy says. ‘And I could never speak to the men at this shrine. Imagine a falling out happens and I still have to work with them. It is terrifying.’

‘Again, men are simple creatures. It might not occur to them to be petty.’

‘Animals, I say.’ Hana tosses her head back. ‘Not you, Pearl. You’re better than that.’

Pearl meows and titters follow.

‘Tara, can you be faster? How will you attend your lady lessons if you’re all the way back there?’ Aya calls, bracketing her mouth with her hands.

Tara laughs, bends, and scoops Pearl up. Pearl doesn’t ever protest. She jogs forward, picking the frock in one hand and coming near. ‘Sorry, Pearl is a lazy boy. What is your grand plan to seduce Micha?’

‘Oh, hush.’ Kirsten flips her dark luscious hair back. The tips of her ear burn red from the cold. ‘I don’t seduce. I flirt. Seduction is quite unprincipled.’

Amira is quiet, as always, but her eyes fix on Pearl. Tara hands the cat towards her, though Pearl doesn’t ever look away from Tara. He really is the lamb to her Mary. ‘Thanks,’ Amira says, quietly, before running a thin hand along Pearl’s crown. Pearl meows.

‘Yes, and you’re such a principled flirt,’ says Aya.

‘We exist you know.’ Kirsten rolls her eyes. ‘The seductresses give us a bad reputation. Now, I’ll tell you what happened with Thane, and what I plan on doing with Micha.’

As they near the shrine, the High Priestess Wisteria comes from the front stairs, towards them, her radiant blue gown swimming down the steps. Aya looks at them then her. ‘Kirsten—’

‘Shh. Let me advise you.’

‘That’s lovely, but—’

‘Shh.’

The others look at each other and laugh. Wisteria approaches from behind, quick and sure, like a hunter.

‘First, as Micha’s wood carving, or whatever it is he does, I plan to ask if I could watch. He is not quite familiar with this religion, so I can teach him. It would make conversation. And as an unprincipled man, of weak flesh and desire, he is an even easier target than the ones at the shrine.’

Wisteria has stopped. She can hear. Aya opens her mouth, but Kirsten shoots her a dark look. Amira smiles at how Pearl’s stretched a paw, like she’s trying to point out the High Priestess’ presence to Kirsten, and cradles him closer.

‘Thane, of course, could overcome his guilt, in a while. But a man with no spiritual ties? He has no guilt but for the most basic humanities. It is a man like that who I would barely need to wave a finger at before he’s at my beck and call. And he would be less wary around a shrine maiden. He has no clue of the wiles we can—’

‘Kirsty,’ Aya snaps, and before she can shut her down again, she spins Kirsty around, face to face with the High Priestess.

Kirsten freezes.

‘What about your wiles?’

‘My… my heavenly wiles,’ says Kirsten. ‘Of graciousness and piety that we all strive for.’

Hana and Aya struggle to quiet their laughters. Darcy deals her elbows into both their sides.

‘It is a shrine maiden who should guide,’ Kirsten continues her spiel, ‘and become a paragon of righteousness for those who have not yet interlocked faiths with the principles of Cerasus.’

‘It is also amongst a shrine maiden’s duties to become a lady who can employ those principles to detoxify the unprincipled and guide them from further ruin.’ Her eyes bear down, the redness in her irids signifying someone who eats the Fruit every day. ‘For the next week, read the Prunus, from chapters Avium to Serrulata.’

‘High Priestess, I—’

‘Starting now.’

‘What about my… important duties to complete at the yard?’

‘Your work will be indoors. In the women’s quarters, where you will thrive.’

‘Please, High Priestess Wisteria, a delicate flower will wither in captivity!’

‘Do you liken the Cherry Shrine to a prison, now?’

She calculates her next words. ‘No, High Priestess. I will begin my studies, now.’

The High Priestess flutters a dismissive hand. ‘Go cleanse your mind of this prurience.’

Kirsten ducks into a curtsy and dashes off into the Cherry Shrine. The round doors click shut behind her. As soon as the High Priestess turns to them, they flatten themselves, too.

‘Good morning, High Priestess Wisteria!’ they say together.

‘Tomorrow, we will all meditate two hours longer to compensate for this lascivious conversation.’

‘Yes, High Priestess Wisteria!’

‘Tara, your task was to relight the candles indoors?’

Tara nods.

‘You and Kirsten will switch tasks. I trust you not to infirm your own principles with the unaffiliated.’

‘Of course, High Priestess. The Cerasus is in my heart.’

A lapse of silence rounds them like sheep dogs. It disperses and they release thier breaths.

‘Everyone inside now. Breakfast has been served.’

As soon as the High Priestess strides out of view, Aya bumps Tara. ‘Lucky girl. Do us proud.’

‘Did you learn nothing?’ Darcy hisses.

‘I learnt we need to watch our surroundings when speaking of womanly wiles.’

‘A woman is pure and saintly. Those wiles were entirely Kirstenly.’

‘I’ll tell her you said that,’ Hana says.

‘Not if I tell her first,’ Darcy replies.

Pearl yowls as they reenter the shrine.

——————

Tara emerges into the yard after a hearty breakfast, bows to the Cherry tree, and a ripe cherry plops down. She pops it out of the air and into her mouth. The juice spills over her tongue and burns her throat like ceremonial kirsch.

Pearl licks the bark, her way of curtsying, and prounces into the snowy yard. No snow comes in the radius of the tree—surrounded by a year long vibrant grass that fades back into natural snow.

Before she can let greed best her and ask the tree for another cherry, Pearl screeches with more fury she thought the feline capable of. She turns and finds Micha, sat at the near edge of the yard gate, hammering away at metal work. He stops to stare down at the cat and pulls away his clunky metal mask.

Bare-faced now, Tara can see Kirsten did not exaggerate about Northern men. Her breath catches.

‘What’d you tell your cat about me?’

He sounds so serious Tara doesn’t recognize it as a joke until she processes it five more times. ‘That you weren’t of the Cerasus.’

‘Principled. Make sure he stays close to you, yeah? Working with dangerous things here.’

‘Oh, no. He doesn’t stray.’

‘From his faith or from you?’

‘Both.’ Tara smiles before she can help it. Pearl hisses again.

‘Bye kitty.’ Micha waves, and Pearl shifts back, baring fangs. ‘How about we talk properly later, alright? One-on-one?’

‘Me?’ Tara asks, like a croak. ‘No. Absolutely not. I—’

‘I’m talking to your cat.’

She clenches gloved hands and tries not to die of shame. ‘Well, he’s principled. You’d have to convert before you can get on his good side.’

‘He’s always this rough with outsiders?’

‘Not really. Maybe he thinks you’ve committed more sin.’

Micha stands from his post and drifts towards them. Tara holds her ground, asserting it, but he’s really not coming to her, or flirting with her, or anything like that. He’s focused on Pearl.

‘Where’d you find her? White cats with blue eyes are incredibly rare.’

‘She showed up one day.’ Tara steps in front of Pearl, protecting her from sight. ‘And came with good fortune.’

‘Does that “good fortune” relate to her name?’

Tara stares him down. ‘Maybe.’

‘She went to the High Priestess, and—’ Pearl’s screeching so loudly you’d think she was dying—‘I don’t know. Spat out a pearl?’

Tara looks at his dark eyes, stark against white skin. His bushy brows are relaxed. His mouth tight, shrunk around the next word. ‘She did. I didn’t know you were a religious acolyte.’

‘Something like that, to be an artisan in this era.’

‘Not just an artisan, though?’

‘No. Not just.’ He pushes Tara aside. Or tries. But the Cerasus train their hands. She steals momentum and whips him backwards with her, away from Pearl, whose blue eyes have widened humanly.

She has never seen that expression on a cat and it startles her so much she lets Micha rip away. He runs up to Pearl. She lunges after and grabs his shoulder, as her other hand gropes for the blade beneath her dress. Finds it. Presses it up to his neck.

‘You would dare harm a child of the Cerasus before me?’

A decorative blade glints weak winter sunlight. It swipes to catch against her neck. Micha’s hand is steady. Both of them are hostages. On equal ground. Yet it feels like she’s floating.

‘Do you love the cat or the money it brought with that pearl?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You named the cat the one thing it did for you.’

‘Yes, because it was miraculous. It deserves acknowledgment.’

He scoffs. ‘All you shrine girls are the same. You preach about renouncing material goods but would welcome a demon into your midst if it gives you a pretty ball.’

‘That pretty ball renovated this place. The walls were rotting before Pearl.’

‘Now it’s only the old artifacts, the old ways, pages in the Prunus. But anything to repaint a wall, right?’

‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying you should look at that cat and tell me it loves you or this shrine. Look at that thing and tell me it’s a cat.’

So she looks. And the eyes are human eyes. Blue human eyes embedded on a cat’s triangular face. Like nature forgot it was one, forgot everything. ‘It’s…’

‘Go on. Say it. It’s a cat.’

Her hand is trembling, bad. She whispers, ‘What is it?’

Before he can answer, a crimson smoke bursts out of Pearl’s fur and stains the air, bleaching her nostrils with the stench of ozone. What remains of the cat crumples into an empty sack of white fur that softens into snow. The smoke settles in front of them and screams.

Micha isn’t an artisan. Pearl isn’t a cat. All of these things are true.

‘A snowskin. And if you let me go now, maybe it won’t kill the both of us.’

There are two things a knight needs, their armour and their horse.

Sir Thomas didn’t just have a stead, he had a best friend. Old Gilligan had been there for him since day dot, the day he was knighted. He went everywhere with him and the pair grew to trust each other deeply.

That was until one day, the day Sir Thomas showed his true colours.

Lady Emeline was a noble it’s true, but she also had a heart of gold. That’s not a metaphor, she literally had a golden heart due to contradicting Midas’s Disease as a little girl.

People came from near and far to get close to her so that they may either bask in her beauty or harm her in order to steal her priceless heart.

Sir Thomas was the latter.

He came across Lady Emeline trying to escape some assassins through a bog where she ended up getting stuck.

He shielded her from the assassins and ran them all through with his sword.

Once assured they were all dead, he guided Lady Emeline out the swampy water. And as she went to thank him with a kiss he ran his sword through her too.

He cut out her heart and sold it for an ungodly amount of money. Which he used to spoil both himself and Old Gilligan.

But Old Gilligan wasn’t interested in a lifetime worth of hay, or a stable the size of a small town. He was interested in justice.

He got it one day when Sir Thomas jumped off his back and headed down to the edge of the water to have a drink. He called Old Gilligan over and the horse obeyed, trotting up behind him before turning around and kicking him into the water with his back legs.

Sir Thomas laughed thinking it was a joke until he saw Old Gilligan charging towards him.

The horse held Sir Thomas face down in the stream until he stopped squirming.

Old Gilligan trotted away into the woods where he shed his guise and become once more his true Kingly self.

It was a test he had set up for all those he had knighted, many passed, but more than he’d like to admit failed. And Sit Thomas was just one in a long line of those who would learn what happens to you when you forget what the term honour means.

"Damn it, not again," I muttered, with an eye roll.

As a part of Coven Training for Witches, we were all assigned an animal companion. It just so happened that my animal, a cunning fox named Ember, was more interested in pulling a disappearing act than training.

Instead of following my peers to Cauldrons and Concoctions 101, I'm off chasing my fox into the woods, and let me tell you, it's getting old. It started as every now and again, but lately, Ember is wandering off more and more often.

Except I could tell that something was slightly different with this journey. Ember was running much faster than she usually does, and I was struggling to keep up with her. She was going much deeper into the woods and taking twists and turns she never had before.

"Ember! Damn it, Ember, stop!" I frustratedly called out, although it was at that moment we crossed a clearing.

We stopped as abruptly as we started, and I looked around in an attempt to figure out what the hell was going on. I looked at Ember expectantly but immediately felt stupid. What was a fox going to tell me? I would just have to piece it together myself.

Except the more I looked around, the more concerned I became. I recognized the carvings in the trees and some of the stone structures nearby. They featured in every single lesson since I was a child - lessons of caution and danger.

"Ember, this looks like..." I trailed off. A voice that sent chills down my spine finished my sentence for me.

"Ramona's?" A cold voice drawled.

I whipped around and reach for the sword at my waist on instinct only to see my fox morph into the adult witch the voice belonged to. Ramona was the greatest evil known to my generation of witches, and she had been parading around as my fox?

It was a great plan, I realized begrudgingly. She successfully lured me out here and heard Circe knows how many of the secrets from Coven training. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

Fur once soft, now cold as stone The eyes so bright, now dark as night, But in the dusk, a twist, a tear— The face of her enemy lurking there

The heart betrayed, a bond undone The war was lost before it begun, In silence she stood, her soul alight— A friend, a foe, now out of sight