Authoress' Notes:
Eva (Aradia? Grr! This magickal name stuff is confusing!) - Well, I actually had to do research for this part! Apple blossoms are indeed the blossoms of Aphrodite, who is most certainly the Goddess of love (Not Athena. Bridget was kind enough to point out my pathetically ridiculous mistake *ashamed*) and Lughnassadh is the first of the harvest Sabbats. I think we BOTH pride ourselves in keeping our Witchcraft information as correct as we possibly can (I know, I know, "Charmed" is a horrible depiction of the Wiccan religion, but, like I said, as correct as we can, under the circumstances). So rest assured knowing that most anything you read here is true. And if I happen to get something wrong in one of my sections, I know Bridget will catch me *cough* :0) Enjoy! I know I had fun working on this part!
I'd like to cite "Cunningham's Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs" by Scott Cunningham. It helped me bunches when sorting out my love herbs. You wouldn't believe how many there are!
Bridget: Hey hey! Glad there's people out there who like Mists so far. I've been so busy trying to keep up with Eva's bouncing brian---I mean brain! Meant brain ;) Anyhoo, I'm sure you'll love chapter 1 and chapter 2 is soon on it's way, if I ever input my part in time! ::laughs::
Of Witches and Demons
Rays of light entered through the windows of the hall as the Warren family sat down for breakfast. At the head of the table was the Lady of the Lake herself, Penelope Warren. To her right sat her daughter Patricia. To her left sat her beautiful granddaughters, Prudence, Piper, and Phoebe. While the Lady of the Lake motioned for one of the maids to serve them, she smiled at her family. "Merry meet, everyone. I'm thankful that we can eat at the table as a family again." Her last comment was directed at Phoebe. For the last couple of days, Phoebe had taken to missing meal times. Her excuse was that she forgot, but her grandmother knew better. The land of Astrael called strongly to her, like it called to her other granddaughters, but Phoebe had more temptation then her sisters did, for she had the gift of premonitions which allowed her to see tantalizing visions of the outside world.
"Oh Grams. I don't mean to miss meal times, but I can't help it that I tend to forget." Patricia reached over and patted her daughter's hand.
"You're still young and life calls to you. Don't let it pass you by." Her daughters glanced at each other, not saying a word. Their mother tended to make cryptic remarks, and they couldn't seem to figure them out. Piper had thought it was from some fall out that their mother had had with their grandmother, but other than that, they were clueless.
After a moment or two of silence, Grams cleared her throat and picked up her chalice.
"Well," she smiled at her daughter and granddaughters. "I say we eat before our food gets cold. The Mother Goddess didn't bless us with this bounty to see it go to waste." She waved her hand over the table, and instantly, every glass was filled with a sparkling white wine.
Prue picked up her glass and stared into is suspiciously. "Alcohol, at breakfast? Grams, you aren't trying out a new potion, are you?" Phoebe giggled, and the rest of the women immediately set down their cups. Piper leaned over to her sister.
"Last time she did that, it backfired," Phoebe whispered. "Prue's telekinesis was reversed, and when she tried to help one of the priestesses move the Ostara altar, she knocked herself out." Piper joined in her sister's laughter, earning a disapproving stare from their grandmother. Patty stifled her own chuckles, and tried to put on a stern look for her daughters, but it just served to make her laugh even harder.
Grams gave in to a smile. "Very funny, my children. As a matter of fact, this is a rare, imported breakfast wine, from the Shining Ones of the Hollow Hills," she raised her glass to her lips, taking a delicate sip. "Try it." Still smiling, her family obeyed.
"You mean trolls made this?" Piper wrinkled her nose and tilted the glass, inspecting it.
"It's fairy good," Phoebe quipped. Her sister groaned at the bad pun.
The Lady of the Lake peered over the rim of her cup. "It certainly is good to have you back, my dear." She smiled warmly and returned her attention to the food before them. Plates of steaming food had been set in front of each witch. Fresh eggs, collected just that morning, were served mixed with cheeses and spices alongside tender slabs of broiled pork. Strawberries, cantaloupe, blackberries, and countless other varieties of fruit were stationed around the table at easy reach. They were the first of the Lughnassadh harvest, and proved to be delicious. Heaping bowls of hot maple cereal were placed in between the platters of fruit.
Piper reached over and grabbed a handful of strawberries to dip in her bowl of cream. "Is there anything planned for today, Grams? I, uh, have plans to study herb lore in the meadow." Her family gazed her way making her blush as red as the strawberries on her plate. "I do, really," she insisted.
"Oh, Piper! You don't have to hide it from us. You're sweet on a certain someone." Phoebe waved her finger at her sister. "I saw you giggling in the halls yesterday and daydreaming."
"You've met someone, Piper dear? I hope it's one from the finer male witches out there. Perhaps from the Alco family?" Penelope nodded her head as she nibbled on a piece of cheese. "Tell us, dear, who is the lucky witch?"
"Why do you say automatically assume it's a witch, mother? My Piper could have fallen for a lovely human, or even a whitelighter. Besides, it's much too early to be talking about romance. Let us just enjoy our meal." Phoebe, Piper, and Prue exchanged curious glances. There went their mother again with the cryptic remarks.
When breakfast was over, Phoebe ran towards her room, shutting the door gently behind her. She had a very good reason why she was on time to eat with her family that morning: the Lughnassadh festival. It was the first of the harvest Sabbats, and a very festive time, indeed. Phoebe had planned on skipping breakfast to daydream in the meadow, but a vision of a festival on Astrael later within the day stopped her.
The humans, of course, would never stoop so low as to call their gathering by the title of a witch's Sabbat. No, for them it was simply the Harvest festival, but Phoebe knew better. Magickal superstition and traditions were still alive and strong in Astrael among the humans. The church simply twisted them to suit their own needs. No matter what they did, however, the roots of the occasion would still lead back to the days of the Old Religion. In any case, it was indeed a human festival, complete with games, fun and, of course…humans. It was something so exciting and alluring that she could not deny herself the chance of going, and by being at breakfast, she insured herself against being forced to attend dinner through guilt. As long as she kept away from her Grams' sight, she was good to go.
Opening the chest at the edge of her bed, she lifted out one of her old maiden dresses. "Water and Air, make this Warren witch fair. Earth and Fire, bring this maiden her greatest desire," she giggled as she sang the rhyme. Laying the dress on her bed, Phoebe rustled through her supplies before pulling out three red candles and three pink candles, placing them on her bedside altar around a central yellow candle for attraction. Also in her stash was the Witch grass that she had collected on the Summer Solstice and had hung in her room to dry. Most of the family's herbs were kept in a locked closet in her grandmother's room, but Phoebe liked to have her own collection, just in case Grams wasn't around…or wouldn't approve.
"Damn," Phoebe cursed softly, after having looked through her entire magickal chest. "No apple blossoms." Sighing, she picked up her skirts and made her way over to the window. Outside there was an apple tree, barely within her reach. She utilized all her strength to open the stubborn glass window. After plucking off a few flowers and nearly falling out of the windowsill, she returned shakily to her bed to start her working. Before she began, however, she took out a pre-made chaplet of fresh myrtle leaves and flowers and placed it on her head. It was love-spell tradition.
Aphrodite, being the Goddess of love, was the One she called on for this particular need. "Red for passion, pink for love, guide me Aphrodite, Your word from above." Phoebe chanted the spell from memory as she lit each candle. She had figured she'd need to employ a ritual to attract love at some point, and made sure to memorize it long ago. Sprinkling the Witch grass over her altar space, she plucked the petals off of the apple blossoms and laid them one by one in front of the candles, chanting as she did so.
"Blossoms of the Blessed One, Lady of Moon and Lord of Sun. My love, my heart, my body, my soul; help me, lead me to my goal." The candles danced and flickered in front of her, calling her attention and soothing her mind. Drawn deep into a state of relaxation, Phoebe closed her eyes and waited until the time was right to come back to reality.
After a minute or two, Phoebe felt her mind slipping back to its normal state. She picked up the center candle and drew a rune in it with a sewing needle. It was the rune for love…for attracting love and drawing it near to oneself. Simple as it was, Phoebe still had difficulties carving it, for she was ungrounded and very dizzy from the energy she had cast during the spell. She would carry the white blossoms with her when she attended the gathering, just for extra luck. As she was beginning to clear off her altar, her bedroom door swung open without warning, and there stood Piper.
"Piper! Hi!" Phoebe quickly shoved aside her herbs and blew out the candles. Piper eyed her suspiciously.
"Witch grass? Red candles?" she stepped to the side of the bed. "Why do I sense the casting of a love ritual?" Phoebe bit her lip and braced herself, trying to overcome the after-effects of the spell casting.
"Promise you won't say anything to Grams or mom, please?" Phoebe begged, putting on a cute face, hoping to win her sister over.
Piper wasn't about to let Phoebe off so easily. "What makes you think a love spell is in order?" she inquired, knowing fully that Phoebe was not foolish enough to cast a spell without good reason. She surmised, "Did you have a premonition?" The guilty look on her sister's face was answer enough.
"Pheebs, you know we can't use our powers for personal gain. Tell me exactly what you saw…there has to be a deeper meaning." Piper sat down on the bed next to Phoebe.
"Nothing, really. I just saw a vision of the festival on Astrael and-" Piper cut her off.
"Astrael? Phoebe, you're casting a love spell on a HUMAN?" Phoebe's eyes flashed indignantly.
"So what?" She hated when her sisters second-guessed her judgment.
"So what? Phoebe, I don't think Grams will be horribly thrilled at the prospect of one of her granddaughters marrying a human. Besides," Piper shrugged, "she already has Taylor Alco picked out for you, and you know how Grams hates when we go against her will." This time it was Phoebe who interrupted.
"Oh, really? Well, at least I can use the whole 'the Gods made me do it' excuse, unlike you," she smiled sweetly as Piper's jaw dropped.
"How did…how did you know? I thought we…" she trailed off, a look of fear coming over her face. Phoebe patted her sister's hand.
"You forget that I have a perfect view of the garden from my room," she grinned. "Besides, I AM psychic." Piper appeared near tears. "Don't worry honey, I won't tell a soul. If," she added impishly, "we can keep this whole conversation to ourselves." Piper looked up at her. "What do you say?" Sighing, Piper nodded her head in agreement.
"I'll just let you get back to your ritual, then." Standing up, she was making her way to the door before Phoebe stopped her.
"Oh, Piper? One last thing." Piper turned around.
"Yes?"
"What do orbs feel like?" They both laughed and Piper threw a pillow at her.
The day seemed to drag on forever. Phoebe set herself to work in the garden to pass the time, harvesting fresh herbs to be dried and consecrated for magickal workings. It was grueling work being out in the sun all day, but the promise of her premonition kept her spirits up. The festival wasn't until late in the afternoon, and Phoebe could barely contain her excitement. It was hard enough just keeping her mouth shut about her vision, let alone the festival itself. There was so much to look forward to!
Parties were Phoebe's thing…she was definitely the wild child of the family. Last year for Prue's birthday, she had thrown together a huge gala with music and dancing, and had even coerced one of her male friends to come as a "dancer". It was a blast, and even shy, reserved Piper got into the action. She never heard the end of it…especially from her Grandmother.
Grams had the idea in her head that her granddaughters should be quiet women who served the Goddess, and their grandmother, night and day. Meaning be seen, but not heard, unless told otherwise. Well, Phoebe never could comprehend why they were not allowed to have any fun, and she had the tendency to ignore what she didn't understand. Smiling at the memory, she reached down and ripped out another handful of mugwort, sinking absentmindedly into a daydream.
Who would she meet at Astrael? Would he find her, or would she need to seek him out herself? Fate had always had a strange way with Phoebe, and she was beginning not to trust it. What would he look like? Was today the day she'd meet her soul mate?
She shook her head forcefully. No, she thought, I am looking way too far into this premonition. There had been no visions of men, just a quick glimpse of the festival.
"Who knows?" she muttered, "maybe I'll not find a man, but a demon." Laughing at this ridiculous prospect, Phoebe set her mind to finishing her task. There had been no demons seen in years, and none would be foolish enough to attend a human gathering, anyway. Besides, she was one of the most powerful witches around. No way would a demon dare start anything with her!
Finally, the time had come. After what seemed like an eternity, Phoebe was all set to head off to Astrael.
With one last tuck of hair, she was ready. Pink blush and red lipstick graced her face, accenting her stunning beauty and childlike innocence. For a moment she was troubled with the issue of covering up the blazing blue crescent that adorned her forehead. It was the sign of the Goddess, and Phoebe really did not feel like being burned at the stake that afternoon. She had almost given up when she remembered an old hairstyle that she had learned when she had been a young priestess in training who was learning to spin. Phoebe braided her long hair in an intricate pattern, pulling it tightly around her forehead like a halo, and tying it in the back. Wispy bangs popped up over her braid, framing her face. To finish it off, she wove tiny blossoms into her hair; careful not to undo the braid she had meticulously crafted.
Out of her closet she pulled a beautiful, purple silk dress with little stars sewn along the sleeves and neckline, and a silver belt to match. Luckily her dress fit perfectly from the last time she wore it, so she didn't have to mend it. Her small pouch, filled with the white blossoms from her ritual, was tied to her waist. As an afterthought, Phoebe rubbed her wrists with some fresh basil leaves from the garden. It was commonly used as sort of a natural love perfume, and indeed, it did smell great. Hey, she thought, every little bit helps! Now, everything was in order. She took a deep breath.
"Time to go." Sneaking out of the castle without anyone noticing her was easy, she did that all the time. But the next stage of her plan was going to be trickier. From here she had to make her way down to the shoreline, find an empty rowboat she could escape in, and part the Mists which would allow her to cross the veil between Akasha and Astrael without Grams knowing. That in itself was a difficult task. Her Grams saw everything that went on in Akasha, magickal and non-magickal. She would have a slim window of opportunity to leave, when Grams set down for her mid-afternoon rest. It was always a risk to part the Mists, but it was one Phoebe was willing to take.
"Here I come, Astrael." Here I come, whoever you are. Here I come.
The cavernous walls flickered from the lit torches as Belthazor strode into the cave where three men in robes stood. He rested his right fist above his heart and bowed respectfully.
"My mission was successful," he reported calmly. "The village of Shawman is gone." He stood up slowly. Black hoods shrouded the faces of the trio of men, hiding their reactions to the news. The atmosphere in the room was one of stifling apprehension and expectance. None of the figures present dared move or speak out of turn.
"As we figured. Nothing less from someone of your position," one of the men spoke.
Ah, yes. His position: the one thing that haunted him at every turn. He was always being measured up against Him and, obviously, was found lacking.
Well, not anymore.
Slowly, Belthazor spoke. "I have devised a plan to wipe out the humans." This intrigued his audience. They exchanged glances.
"Go on."
"Give me six months time to complete my plan," he stated blatantly. A scornful smirk spread one by one to each member of the Triad.
"Very confident of your skills, are you?" the nearest one spoke, "Many have tried before and all have failed. What makes you think you will succeed?" A brazen smile reached Belthazor's face.
"Others weren't me. That and they did not have my plan," the demon paused for dramatic effect, hoping that it would increase the interest of his bosses. "Why expend so much energy on destroying the humans when the power of Akasha can do it for us?" Before he received an answer, he shimmered out. All he needed was a witch…a Warren witch to let him in.