Salem, 1692 – The Burning Times
Try to break my heart? Well it's broke.
Try to hang me high? Well I'm choked.
Want it to rain on me? Well I'm soaked...Soaked to the skin.
It's the end where I begin.
The old yellow pages were stiff and crumbling in her fingers. The spidery writing of a witch long lost, faded to a dull violet, almost unreadable in the dull light of the candle, its flames dancing over the walls. She glanced at the clock; it was five minutes to the witching hour...five minutes until they arrived to take her away. She read the last page, desperately trying to translate the language of the old and find the answer to what she was looking for in the final lines. Everything they'd done was balancing on a knife edge, if she failed all would be lost; forever.
Her eyes danced across the page as the clock sounded to mark every passing second. Time was running out. Then the answer to her question leapt out at her: how to kill a dragon. A cruel smile twisted her features, she'd found the key to unlock the future and it lay in her fingers. She re-read the passage again, making sure she had gotten every word correct and that every sentence was burned into her mind.
She whispered the words and felt them put magic in the air as they rolled off her tongue. Satisfied that she'd learnt the words of the most important spell of her life, she picked up the candle with shaking fingers. She bowed the flame down to kiss the old musty pages she held in her other hand until the fire caught on and spread rapidly up the page, licking up the important scriptures like a starving dog. The pages blackened, curling up like clawed hands before disintegrating into oblivion.
She waited until she could feel the intense warmth of the fire on her fingers and all that was left of the most essential Night World volumes was a pile of ash before blowing out the flame and plunging it into darkness. No sooner had the flame extinguished did she hear the toll of the clock signalling midnight, as if from far away. One. Two. Three. Between the strikes of the clock she heard the resonance of footsteps, the sound of armed men drawing closer to come and kill her. Four. Five. Six. The footsteps were getting louder, the people coming nearer. She was supposed to feel scared now, she'd read it in books and seen it in movies but there was nothing there. She felt nothing. Seven. Eight. Nine. She turned to face the door, knowing there was no point in hiding; that would only make it worse when they sniffed her out of her hiding place. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. She couldn't stop her scornful laughter from slipping out as several armed men burst into the room. The first two were vampires, followed by several shape shifters and a werewolf. But even if they were the most powerful Night People in history they were still too late. She'd destroyed their most important documents.
They swarmed around her and tied her up while she stood motionless in the centre of the room. They could take away everything she had but they couldn't undo the past or take away her pride. Her task was complete.
She tossed her hair as the men led her out of the room and closer to her death, but none of it mattered, she'd completed her task; the pages were no more than a pile of ash and she was the only one who knew their content. The apocalypse was close at hand.
X-X-X-X-X
The guards walked her towards her death but still she couldn't get rid of the feeling that she wasn't going to die. But that was inevitable...right? She felt the magic stroke her fingertips as the guards led her forward through the crowd of shape shifters hungry for revenge and into a horribly open space.
The loud shouting died down as the crowd caught sight of her. Normally this was the time when every Night Person would stare at her with wide eyes full of admiration or jealousy; instead there was a hiss, as if someone had suddenly thrown a jug of water over a fire, which steadily grew louder until the shape shifters words became a deafening roar. Kill the witch.
It floated up to her as if she was far away, or underwater. The guards led her forward, towards a towering pile of wood...and to the stake sat at the top of it, a menace reminding her that the end was nigh. As the guards wrestled her up the mountain of crisp wood, she felt the first trickle of fear slide down her spine like icy needles. She stumbled and there was a cry of laughter. She took a deep breath, trying to keep calm despite her impending doom. I will not panic, she chanted as she was guided higher and higher up the mountain of firewood, the slope was evening out now, a sign that she was near the top.
She closed her eyes as her rough handlers pushed her forward. She felt the bark of the stake and her stomach dropped. Her eyes snapped open and she let panic take over as she struggled desperately to live, but she felt like a lamb surrounded by a pack of wolves. She was helpless. Two shape shifters wrestled her back against the stake as the vampires tied her.
Another bout of laughter floated up to her as her audience watched her being forced into submission. Then the hands were suddenly gone, and she was alone on her wooden mountain. Surrounded by people who hated her, ruthlessly tied to the stake, there was no hope of evading her upcoming death; she was forced to wait for the slow burn of the fire to snag her. They had stuffed a piece of cloth in her mouth so that she wouldn't be able to chant a spell to save herself or curse the people who did this to her.
I won't forget this, she vowed as she heard the distant crackle of fire and acrid smoke drifted around her. Even if it takes me a thousand years I will get my revenge. The fire had caught on quickly, it was roaring around her, she could only see the crowd briefly now, through the flames as they danced and leapt in front of her. She caught a glance of an angry pair of eyes and then a mouth twisted in cruel delight before everything was lost to the smoke and the fire licking the wood beneath her. The heat was unbearable; it scorched her skin to the point where even though the flames weren't stroking her skin it felt as if she was on fire. The smoke choked her and she felt a stinging sensation making her eyes want to water, but no tears slid down her cheeks. She would not cry.
She heard a cheer, quiet compared to the roar of the flame as her hair caught fire. She could smell it in the air and then she felt it singe her scalp. She couldn't bite back the tears of agony now, she fought the panic rising in her but it didn't stop the scream leaving her lips.
It was a scream of sheer suffering. She had never screamed like that in her entire life. Once she started, she couldn't stop, she felt sick. When would this be over? She jerked backwards and forwards on the stake, desperately trying to escape, a kind of feral terror had taken over her. She was gasping with pain now, how could she be in this much pain and not be dead?
She screamed again, the torture was never ending; she had no idea how long she had endured this. Her throat was sore from screaming for so long but she couldn't seem to stop. She wasn't aware of her audience any more; the consuming pain was dominating all conscious thought. The flames were all around her, they'd burned almost everywhere she could imagine, she was blind in one eye now and her face was so grotesquely burnt that she was quite sure that she was unrecognisable.
Then she saw something that made her panic even more. Darkness was swarming around the edges of her vision. Am I dying? The thought suddenly burst to the fore of her mind. She noticed dimly that she was no longer screaming and then she realised it was because she couldn't feel her body. She was dying. Panic overwhelmed her as she considered what that would entail, what was there after death. Heaven? Hell? Before she could calm her thoughts darkness swarmed in, bringing a blissful coolness with it.
X-X-X-X-X
Ivy awoke with a gasp and sucked in several deep breaths of air. Everything hurt. She opened her eyes, a blurry mass of colours swarmed in front of her before everything sharpened as her eyes adjusted. She was in a house, not her own but a strangers, she could detect the faint smell of incense. Where am I? She asked herself, Ivy forced herself to think but it was hard to concentrate for some reason. She felt as if a memory was nagging at the back of her mind desperate to be remembered, but whenever she focused on it, it slipped from her fingers like water.
She was lying on a straw mattress, gazing up into shadows that lingered high above her, there was a dim glow coming from somewhere to her right and a cool draught creeping over her skin from behind her. Where was she? Her heightened sense of hearing helped her to explore her surroundings without moving her body. She didn't think she was strong enough yet.
Ivy flinched as the sound of footsteps alerted her to the presence of another. She turned her head automatically to face the intruder, regretting it instantly as pain shot up her neck from the simple movement.
"I see that you are awake now," a detached female voice drifted into the room from the door way with a tone that could only be described as sounding elemental, footsteps came closer and Ivy caught sight of glossy auburn hair and smoky blue grey eyes that were cold and impersonal, as if she were afraid to let anyone get to know the real her. The woman looked about the same age as her, in her early twenties at most but her eyes gave Ivy the impression she was a lot older, it could have been because she was very accomplished but Ivy got the impression it was something else...something supernatural.
"Who are you?"
"I see you are a polite one," she remarked dryly, "As for whom I am, it doesn't matter."
"What do you mean, 'it doesn't matter'?" she barked, " I woke up on a straw mattress in a strange house, when I move I'm in immense pain for reasons beyond me and when I ask one question the only answer I get is 'it doesn't matter'."
Ivy made to sit up again when a cool hand stopped her. "Get. Off. Me." she said venomously, patience wasn't one of her virtues and right now anger was bubbling through her.
"I wouldn't move yet if I were you, coming back from the dead is very..." she paused searching for the correct wording, "strenuous... on the body."
"I came back from the dead?" Her heart was suddenly thumping uncomfortably in her throat. Surely this person's crazy, it isn't possible to come back from the dead. "You're crazy."
"No. I'm not," she leaned over Ivy, so close that her auburn hair tickled her face and her eyes demanded that they met hers, "You died. Last night in a fire, remember? You were burnt to death in front of all the shape shifters in the city."
Ivy flinched as the memories began to come back to her but the woman went on relentlessly.
"I watched you as you slowly changed from a naive little girl who thought she could escape from everything to a corpse. Then I stole your body from the morgue before it was buried and you would be lost forever. Do you believe me now, Ivy?"
She glared up at the woman as she nodded, unwillingly letting herself fall into submission.
"Why have you done this to me?" Ivy's voice came out in a strangled whisper. This could not be happening. Please, please,pleaseplease tell me this is all a joke, she silently begged. But the look in her comrade's eyes told her it was the truth.
"You're a powerful witch, Ivy, you're not a Harman but you are far more powerful." She turned away to face a wooden desk and shuffled papers searching for the right ones. When she turned back there was excitement gleaming in her eyes. She handed Ivy pages covered in writing that could have been elegant if it was not so cramped. Ivy looked down at them and felt a frown crease her forehead.
"What are these?" she whispered frantically looking at the sheets for the answers she needed. It didn't make any sense. Riddles were scrawled along with obscure designs and diagrams of what was supposedly her future.
The woman must have mistaken my desperate tone for excitement because she continued on with unconcealed enthusiasm, "Prophecies, they're older than any in the Night World records and they mention you. Now you know why I could not let you die. You never can leave the realm of the living, you're too important."
Ivy sat up then, and looked at her sharply as she processed everything. She could never die, so what was she? She knew she wasn't a vampire, they were weak after transformation, Ivy felt stronger than she'd ever felt before.
"What am I?" she whispered her voice not as steady as she hoped.
"You are a witch," said the lady, "as before."
"So I can age and have children with no problems?"
"Yes, but you will need to be more cautious. The shape shifters will not forget this for a long time, if they have the slightest suspicion about you, they will hunt you down. You can have as many children as you want but I wouldn't advise it, you'll draw attention to yourself and when they won't live forever like you. You'll need to use glamour for a while so you won't be recognised and I'd change your name if I were you too. Be careful every October on the 29th, it's the date you died and you will have to relive the pain you suffered the first time you died, it will be more powerful on certain years...After you die you will be reborn on All Hallows Eve, that's the date today, but your body will have changed to how it was as you are now. During that time you-"
"Stop!" Ivy screamed, she was panicking now, her life had been perfect. She felt like she owned the world and now this had happened. She'd died and she'd come back to life, and she would do so until the world ceased to exist. She sat in silence with this witch that had done this to her. "You cursed me..." Ivy whispered quietly.
"No. I blessed you, it's a gift that so many people wish for, so many people would give their soul for the chance to live forever and you get it for free. Can't you see how lucky you are?" The lady had seen her mistake in going on for so long with the details and now she was desperately trying to calm her down.
"I didn't want this! I don't want to live forever. I don't care how many people want this, I DON'T!"
"Please, you don't understand. I can help you."
"I need to go." Ivy whispered. She pictured the rolling hills in the country, the bitter taste in the air as she approached the sea. She had to leave. Ivy leapt off the table, ignoring the shooting pain that attacked her body and grabbed a long red velvet cloak and drew it around her. She cast a glamour around her and ran from the room.
"Where are you going?" called the witch.
"Away, I can't stay here!" she yelled over her shoulder as she retreated into the shadows. She grabbed a sleek black stallion and mounted it before urging it into a gallop. The sound of a horse's hooves thundered down the dirt trail as she disappeared into the night.
Try to break my heart? Well it's broke.
Try to hang me high? Well I'm choked.
Want it to rain on me? Well I'm soaked...Soaked to the skin.
It's the end where I begin.
A/N: thx for reading XD so what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Want to burn it? I personally think I did ok but I want your opinion. Lyrics are from 'the end where I begin' by The Script. Plz click the awesome blue/green button and review!