WARNING: This story contains content of Wicca and Witchcraft! If this offends you, DO NOT READ!
Rebirth
The early morning sun felt warm, and the woods were tinged with silence. Rogue wandered through the forested area, content in tranquil thought. The seasons were changing, and Imbolc was on the threshold. She left gifts for the animals, strings of dried rosehips, and pinecone birdfeeders. She let the Earth speak to her as she walked.
Imbolc was a time to welcome the return of the sun, she would light candles tonight to herald its return. She wove a basket known as a Bridget's bed, and lined it with grass and flowers. In the bed, she placed the corn doll in her likeness; by far her most treasured possession. She made an acorn wand to rest with her; the masculine with the feminine.
Settling down for the night, Rogue shuffled her Tarot cards absently, divination was somewhat of a traditional past time on the Sabbats. Some more than others, but she liked to do a reading or two when they rolled around.
As Rogue continued to shuffle, one card fell from the pack and hit the floor with an almost audible thud. Rogue picked it up and turned it over, knowing from experience that things like this are best not to go ignored.
The Tower stared back at her, and the image began to sharpen until she could her the flames and lightning crackle, smell the smoke, hear the screams of the people as they plummeted to their deaths.
Crisis.
Something bad was going to happen.
Suddenly, Rogue got a clear vision. The mansion was engulfed in flames, people screamed and someone laughed. John stood proud wielding fire from his hands; he had come back to seek his revenge. Rogue caught a brief glimpse of a calendar and clock before the vision faded out, and room came swimming back into view. February 1, 12pm; that was tonight.
Rogue dropped everything and ran to the Professor's office, she had to warn him.
"You believe an attack is coming, tonight, at 12pm", Rogue nodded. "And how did you come to this conclusion"? Rogue squirmed uncomfortably, "I'd rather not say".
"Well a hunch is hardly cause for concern, it may have just been a bad dream".
It wasn't a dream, it was real, and no one would listen. Everyone thought she was making it up. She would prove them wrong though, she would be on guard; she would be watching, and she would be waiting.
The clock ticked silently as Rogue waited in the shadows for what she knew would come. The clock chimed midnight, and she held her breath. The silence was deafening , suffocating, but suddenly within it, she heard a dull roar.
Racing into the nearby room where bobby and the others slept, she screamed at them to get out, when a fireball crashed through the window. Bobby put out the flames, while the others ran for help. Rogue moved quickly along the halls, taking a hidden passage to outside of the manor. She moved silently through the shadows, coming up behind John, bare hands gleaming in the moonlight.
No time to think, no time to hesitate, Rogue grabbed him, barehanded, round the neck and forehead, and wrestled him to the ground, drinking his power in, and moving him into oblivion. She hefted him over her shoulder and brought him before the Professor.
John was not well received when he awoke, and was jailed by the authorities. The Professor gave Rogue a profound apology for not believing her, and she was never doubted again.
As the day broke, Rogue lit her hearth fire with flames from the building, as it was waiting to be repaired. The ashes of the old fire, she sowed into her garden as she tilled it, and lit the candles in the windows in honour of the sun with the flames.
From destruction would come rebirth.