Hi everyone,
Thank you all for taking the time to read my story. As you understand from the description. This story is about how Rowena came to be the witch we all love, or perhaps hate. I hope you enjoy, please review, and I hope you'll keep reading my chapters!
Cheers!
Bloody, dirt stained hands. No matter how long she scrubbed it never seemed to come off.
"It hurts, Mother."
"Hush, my little urchin, it will come off."
The girl winced at the sharp sting of the rough soap making contact with her broken skin. Green eyes watching her mother wash away as much of the grime as she could, before taking a rag; wrapping it around her dainty digits.
"We'll have to bind them again later on tonight, but for now it will hold."
She straightened her posture, staring down at her raggedy daughter. Curly red locks piled in a hapless mass, dangling down the sides of her bony shoulders. Filth plastered to every part of her bare skin.
Every day the woman wondered and worried what would become of her little Rowena. How helpless she felt to be unable to give her daughter a better life, a future that was not so bleak.
Green eyes at once narrowed, raising her own dirt stained hand; swatting the girl lightly on the back of the head in repercussion of the mistake.
"That is where carelessness will lead you, Rowena. All actions have consequences. Understand?"
"Yes." She nodded, matching green eyes staring straight into her mother's.
"Good. Now, we best get supper ready. Your father will be arriving home soon…"
The fire blazed brightly in the hearth; a large burnt pot filled with rabbit meat, carrots, and potatoes bubbled in a fine broth over it.
Rowena stared down at the brew with visible drool streaking down her chin. The smell teasing her senses; the aroma wafting up her nostrils, and warming every cell in her body.
She inched closer and closer, eyes roving around the room for her mother to make an unexpected return, hands latched tightly around the wooden spoon situated in the stew.
"Just one taste. She won't notice."
Like a surgeon, Rowena strategically placed the spoon in the middle where the most meat was placed.
Slowly. Carefully…
The steam rose off the dark meat, blowing the smell directly into her face. She licked her lips, preparing for the juicy meat to give her taste buds something to truly savor.
{Smack!}
The familiar slap to the back of the head came so swiftly and suddenly, Rowena dropped the spoon, watching in stunned surprise as it clattered to the ground, the meat splattering to the wooden floor and tauntingly out of reach.
She could have cried at the sight, but the fear of a second slap from her mother stemmed the feeling.
"Rowena, you know better than that!"
Indeed she did, but that didn't stop Rowena from trying.
She slowly turned, eyes bright with innocence, a sweet smile gracing her lips.
"Oh, don't you dare try to pull that trick on me. I will not be brought to my knees so easily with your little scheme of naivety."
"I was only seeing if the stew was hot enough for when father arrived." -Innocent eyelashes batted.-
"Of course you were." Was the mother's reply, leaning over to pick up the spoon and meat, holding the square morsel out to her daughter. "Let's not leave it to waste, then. If you wanted it so bad, have it."
Rowena's smile faltered, her nose wrinkling in disgust at the offer.
"Well?" A hint of a smile tugging at the mother's lips, a look of similar mischief gracing her countenance.
Rowena's expression had now completely shifted to disgust, as she reached for the meat, slowly popping it into her mouth; chewing the fatty meat for a brief second before swallowing it.
"Y-yummy."
"Oh, my little urchin," the mother chortled, giving a slight roll of her eyes, as she moved her attention over to the stew; wiping the spoon off with the end of her apron before placing it back into the pot.
"What, Mother?" Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she winced upon contact, green eyes averting down to both her poorly bandaged hands, which were coming undone.
Sensing her child's pain, the petite woman looked over her shoulder— abandoning the stew at once to deal with the issue at 'hand'.
"Let me see."
Rowena instantly obeyed, raising both her hands for her mother to get a closer look.
"Don't touch."
"I'm not going to touch…, just keep them raised like that. I'll be back in a jiffy."
Watching her mother exit the kitchen into the adjacent room, which was the only other room in the entire 'house', she strained her ears at the sound of her mother crashing around, a swear or two joining in with the chorus of noises her mother was making, giving Rowena something to chuckle at, her tittering came to a close, though as soon as the redhead resurfaced— carrying in both hands a bowl, a small red satchel and a tiny vial of clear liquid.
Placing the objects down upon the kitchen table, the mother went right to work— first pouring the liquid into the bowl, and then opening the red satchel to reveal small bones.
At first Rowena had been curious about what these objects were, but upon seeing the bones, her stomach had begun to do back flips. What was her mother doing?
"Come, urchin."
The girl didn't move, remaining as still as a statue.
"Sweet Mary and Joseph, Rowena, stop gawking and get over here. Do you want me to help you or not?"
"What is that?" Timid steps, eyes filled with both curiosity and fear.
"Magic, and we must be quick. If your father caught me doing this he'd fly into a mighty rage faster than a lightning strike."
"What do I need to do?"
A smile. A bright, pure smile graced the mother's lips, as she gently took her daughter's hands into her own, guiding them down into the concoction.
"Just stay perfectly still, for this will only take a second."
Deep inhale.
"Medicas adhibere manus."
Rowena couldn't help but jump as the brew started to bubble, but the liquid remained cool; a blinding light emitting around her hands.
"M-Mother?"
"Don't be afraid, urchin. You're not in any pain, are you?"
The question held no trace of concern. There was no need for her to be worried. The mother knew her magic had succeeded.
The girl shook her head, continuing to stare open mouthed at the bowl in silence.
"Fabulous, now let's have you try now."
Rowena snapped her head up at her mother's unexpected words, eyelashes fluttering faster than the wings on a dragonfly.
"Try? Try what?"
Green eyes held Rowena's as she moved the bowl away, motioning with her head in the direction of the fireplace.
"Magic, my silly gal. You were born a natural, after all. And for your first attempt, I want you to ignite the fire."
An indescribable rush of panic shot through Rowena's heart. Not at the prospect of magic, but performing it. She knew what costs and repercussions could occur, for her mother had told her numerous horror stories of grand witches attempting spells far greater than they could manage, (her mother always seemed to enjoy telling her such thrilling tales just before she was getting ready for bed.) Anyway, some spells if they backfired could leave the witch scarred for life, completely powerless, or worse case scenario: Dead.
Fresh sweat glistened on her forehead, as her mother pointed to the fire, eyes hard and scrutinizing. Rowena had no choice, but how was she to do it? She didn't know any of the words, let alone how magic even worked.
She didn't dare look over at her mother, too ashamed and afraid to see the look of disappointment and annoyance on her countenance. The word. What was the Latin word for fire?
How she was regretting not having paid more attention when her mother had started the fire earlier.
"Fireo?" -Voice quivered at the random word popping into her head, knees trembling and feeling as though they were about to buckle out from underneath her.- "Fyra?" -She squeaked, throat bone dry.-
"Ignis, Rowena." Came her mother's voice, which held no trace of harshness. "Say the word while gazing into the fire, can you feel the heat of its flames touching your skin? Do you feel as though you have stepped inside of it?"
"No, I mean I can from where I'm standing, but I—"
"No, urchin, you must focus. You have too much clutter going on inside your mind. If you constantly allow your own abilities to remain idle, because of the constant 'what ifs' going through your head, you will never achieve greatness."
"'Achieve greatness'?" She blinked, looking back at her mother.
"That's correct. Once you have abandoned such feelings as fear, it unlocks a door to a whole new world of possibilities."
"So, magic will give me such freedom?"
"Yes, my girl, now do as I say and focus. Train your mind. Look at the fire, and say the word. I believe in you."
An indescribable rush of confidence swept through Rowena at her mother's words.
'She believes in me!' Rowena thought, wanting nothing more than to run over and hug her. 'I mustn't let her down.'
There was no fear. No doubt. Just brimming self-assurance and alertness to the task at hand, as she faced down the fire, lips slightly turned up in a smile, muscles relaxed and loose.
This is what her mother must have meant by letting go of fear. About opening the door to a whole new world of possibilities. Even now, the girl felt free. This weak little half-pint, as many would call her, felt taller and mightier than ever.
'Feel the fire.' She chanted the words to herself, extending her arm out in the direction of the fire. 'Step inside the fire.'
She suddenly gasped, seeing only red, feeling the mountain of flames surrounding her, licking at her body. Her concentration shattering like glass, her fear the instrument of her own destruction.
How was she to do this? All she wanted was to run. To get away from the out of control flames. The heat wrapping around her neck and choking her like an invisible hand.
"Mot—"
She bit her tongue.
'No! Mother believes in me. I can't let her down!'
It was startling to hear how different her voice sounded. Like the roar of a mighty lion: Commanding and fearless, she liked it.
"IGNIS!"
The flames erupted around her, jutting higher and higher like a great mountain, but Rowena could feel herself growing as well.
Sweat dripping off her face. Thick, red locks plastered to her head, she didn't dare to wipe away the droplets, fearing she'd lose her concentration.
"IGNIS!" She bellowed again, the walls continuing to grow higher and higher, but she never let the doubt or fear creep into her heart; she had everything under control. She would tame the fire; master it!
"Oi! What the bloody hell is going on in here!?"
The spell was shattered by the deep male voice. Rowena was once again in the kitchen, and standing on the lip of the doorway— jaw clenched; brown eyes flooding with rage: was her father…