Disclaimer: All night world ideas etc. belong to L J Smith. Most characters
are of my own creation but the 'Harman' surname belongs to L J Smith and
other characters of hers etc.. I own nothing of hers.
Note: This is my first Night World fic so be nice. Next chapter up soon! Please R/R!
Prologue
Fern watched as the cart was pulled slowly down the road followed by mindless jeers and insults from the crowd. Fern said nothing. How could she include herself in this madness? She saw other ones of her kind among the angry faces, but all of theirs were filled with immense sorrow and regret.
But they could do nothing. They could only stand back and watch as one of their kind was led to the gallows. Fern could see that the girl in the cart was trying to keep a brave face on, but the thought of what was to come was awful. But the girl never said a word or betrayed their secret-she kept silent.
"Oh Betty, I'm so sorry," Fern whispered, although she knew that the poor girl couldn't hear her words. Betty was such a good friend to her, but she was so young. How could they possibly consider sending a girl of thirteen to the gallows? It was inhumane.
Fern laughed bitterly to herself at the thought of it. Inhumane? But they were the humans, they were not of her kind. Her people had once tried to teach these barbaric people their ways and skills, to try to teach them the art of magic. But Circle Daybreak was quickly diminishing. And this is their reward, to be accused of worshipping the devil, of causing crops to fail, of making the milk go sour! Such ridiculous things! The daughters of Hecate used their powers only for good. Well most of us, she thought.
All of her kind knew the tale of Hellewise and Maya, how sister was set against sister-the ultimate battle of good and evil and even though poor, sweet Hellewise fell, good triumphed.
What I really should say is that the daughters of Hellewise only use their powers for good, she thought.
The cart arrived at the wooden structure, away from the heart of the town. People crowded in before it, trying to get the best view. Betty was pulled out of the cart and dragged up the steps and placed before the people of Salem.
"Elizabeth Williams you are hereby accused of worshipping the devil and taking parts in acts of witchcraft. Do you deny it?" The town magistrate demanded sternly.
Betty said nothing and Fern knew that she was debating on whether to tell the truth. Oh by Hellewise please don't betray us dear Betty, Fern pleaded silently. She caught Betty's eye and smiled encouragingly, Betty smiled in return and then turned back to the magistrate.
"Aye. I deny it," she spoke calmly and defiantly out to the crowd.
"She lies! She's the devil's girl! We must rid the world of such evil!" An elderly woman shrieked from the crowd. Fern glared at her and felt a strong impulse to kill the silly old hag then and there.
"Aye, she's evil!" Another shouted. "Hang her!" Screamed a young girl from the front. "Break her God forsaken neck!" A man who Fern recognised as the blacksmith cried.
The executioner grabbed Betty by her upper arm and pulled her over to the stool. Her lifted her and placed her on it, while also placing a noose about her pale neck. Oh Hecate, how did it come to this? Fern thought, trying to hold back the tears. How many witches had been hung from those very gallows? How many helpless witches had felt the merciless touch of rope around their necks? Too many by far.
Fern muttered a farewell spell beneath her breath, "Oh mighty Isis, send her safely on her way. Oh mighty Isis, send her safely on her way. Oh mighty Isis, send her-"
Betty's small voice rang out over the crowd, "Oh merciful Isis, send me safely on my way and into your glory!" Fern gasped. Oh please say no one took that seriously; oh please don't let them turn on the rest of us. But her thoughts were interrupted by what happened next.
Betty smiled at her people then jumped from the stool, leaving nothing but thin air between herself and the ground. Fern cried out in anguish, but no one took any heed to her. There was a great commotion among the crowd, and the executioner stared at the swinging body with a bemused expression upon his face.
Oh Betty you shall be avenged, terrifying thoughts came into Fern's mind, in this life or any other, but I promised you that you shall not be betrayed.
The crowd began to disperse as Betty's body was cut down and given over to her family. Good wife Williams sobbed into her daughter's limp shoulder and Mr Williams simply stared with hatred into the departing towns' folk. He was no witch, but he had gladly married one and now felt only malice towards his own kind. There was such a shortage of male witches in these parts and witches were often forced to marry human men to keep their lines going. But the men never found their wives' acts wrong. They were seen as part of the witches even though they were of human blood.
Fern walked slowly down to the grieving parents as they held their lifeless daughter tightly. They took no notice of Fern as she mounted the gallows and stood silently upon the platform. The Williams walked off, Betty still in their arms, but Fern remained and scanned the area for any humans. No, they were all back at the town, carrying on with their lives as if they hadn't just robbed a child of her life. She quickly crouched, grabbing the fallen noose and placing it in her apron. This will come in handy if your life shall not be in vain, sweet Betty, Fern thought bitterly. She stood and descended to the leaf covered ground. Fall had fallen heavily upon Salem, leaving barely a leaf on a tree.
Samhain soon, Fern thought, but its so difficult having circles out here. She turned and headed back towards her house on the outskirts of the town.
"Miss Harman, how are you going?" A voice from behind startled her. She spun round and faced her greeter. It was Frederic Edwards-he was harmless.
"Oh Freddie, its you. You startled me," she replied examining his face. By Hecate, he looked stupid. His eyes were dull and lifeless and he had a ridiculous grin on his face. He was about as interesting as a rock.
"Sorry miss. It's a shame about young Betty aint' it? But we must make sure that we destroy all evil," he had a look in his eye that sent shivers down Fern's spine, "as it says in the good book 'thou shalt not suffer a witch to live' and if its God's will then we must see it through."
"Indeed," she whispered, but all she wanted was to get away from him, "well Freddie, I really must be going. Good day to you."
A look of hunger had begun to appear in his eyes. She turned to go, but was held back by a forceful hand upon her arm.
"Oh but Miss Harman, I just want to talk to you," he laughed. The way he said 'talk' terrified Fern. She dreaded what he thought 'talk' meant.
"Get off me Freddie," she whispered through gritted teeth, "before I scream and the whole town sees you assaulting me."
He just smiled and pushed her closer to the woods. She stared in horror at his expression; it was definitely hungry and evil.
"I've always liked you Fern. And I think that if you took the chance you could learn to like me too," he placed an arm roughly around her waist and held his face close to hers.
She could feel his breath against her skin. Oh how it stank. There was no point in screaming now; no one would hear her. She was all alone with a creature of much more strength.
"Freddie, I would never like you! Not if you were the last of your petty kind on earth!" And with that she kicked him hard in the shin and struggled out of his grip as he reached for his painful leg. She ran blindly through the trees, trying desperately to get away from the furious boy. Oh Aphrodite, how could he possibly think that she loved him? He was a foul creature. All humans were. They were vermin and there was no place for them in this world. It was the world of the night and should be ruled by people of the night, not pathetic humans who cried 'witch' at anything unknown.
"You'll be sorry for that Fern Harman! Just you wait!" Freddie's voice rang clearly through the trees, but he had stopped following her. Fern clutched her side and breathed deeply, trying to find somewhere to sit. But in the end she just fell to the ground and stared up through the bare trees. The pale morning light illuminated her surroundings eerily and not a sound could be heard-not even the normal woodland sounds. Fern felt utterly alone and without a friend. None of her kind would approve of her wishes so she could not turn to them for guidance. She laughed aloud at her earlier thoughts of how the daughters of Hellewise only do good, well now that shall all change, she thought silently.
She sat up and thought back to when she had discovered her mother's book of forbidden spells. There had been one that had disgusted her so much that she had subconsciously memorised it. Well now it would be useful for her future plans.
She began to sing a song of attraction, of the attraction of the woodland creatures to her. Soon a small brown rabbit appeared beside her, she softly held out her hand and stunned it with her mind. That would be used later. But for now she had to find a way of getting the other ingredients.
Then it came to her. There was a woodcutter's cottage around here; the old man scarcely came to town so Fern almost forgot him.
Well, she thought, he will surely have the things I need.
***
She returned to the spot where she had left the motionless rabbit and set out her things. She had a wooden goblet, an ordinary knife and firewood she had collected from outside the house. She started a fire easily and began the ritual.
"By my powers as the kin of Hecate, Hellewise and Maya I call upon the power of darkness to course through my veins," she spoke calmly, taking the rabbit and cutting its throat with the knife. "I offer this as a sacrifice to you so that I shall never rest until I have rid the world of the plague of humans." She poured out the rabbit's blood into the goblet and ignored the red liquid that landed on her own clothing. She held the goblet closely to her lips and began to drink. It was exhilarating. To feel the warmth and power flow through her like that. Now she had to finish the dedication.
"Let this life force be a token that I shall strive through my lifetimes until I shall find such peace when humans are no more. May I, as my right as the superior race, let the world be rid of the weakness of humans. As I will it, so mote it be," she cried standing and flinging her arms out, causing the goblet to fly across the ground. But there was no blood left. Fern spun in a circle, willing the power to flow into her, as she deserved. She had never felt so powerful or so strong. She cast the lifeless body of the rabbit into the fire and pulled the rope out of her apron-she had forgotten about it. She cut off a couple of inches of the noose and placed it also in the dancing flames.
"By the hanging rope of a murdered witch, may this power remain with me always," she whispered, watching the rope curl and blacken.
She sat in silence for what seemed like hours. The small fire eventually went out, leaving only the rabbit's small blackened bones. She felt no guilt that she had just performed a forbidden spell. And it was forbidden to all witches, not merely maidens and it was punishable by death. She finally stood and kicked away what remained of the ash and bones. She threw the goblet and knife into the thick undergrowth and placed the remaining rope back in her apron.
It's my right to this power, she thought defiantly; I am a Harman, a direct descendant of Hecate so therefore I need feel no guilt.
The noon sun was already high in the sky and she knew that her mother would be worried in her absence, but she didn't care. She only cared for her great goal in life and all her future lives and the very thought of it made the power grow.
***
That night they sat for supper around the table and said little. The shock of Betty's hanging was still present in all their minds.
"It could have been me," whispered Hazel, Fern's twelve year old sister.
"Hush darling, we're careful enough folk. There's no reason for them to turn on us. We attend church as they do and we show none of our trues selves to them," their mother whispered, stroking Hazel's golden hair soothingly.
"Betty was careful," Fern muttered, but her mother caught it easily.
"Yes I know Fern, but you know how she often used to giggle in church. It was just her way and sadly it was her bane," her mother sighed and shook her head, "we just have to be extra careful from now on. The Inner Circle is thinking of ways to beat this threat."
It'll never work, Fern laughed inwardly, I'm the only one who can do it.
A loud banging on the door interrupted their conversation.
"Who by Hecate could that be?" Their mother whispered. She answered the door and stood back, "how can I help you Mr Lockwood?"
Mr Lockwood-the town magistrate. Oh dear Hellewise, what was in store for them? Fern thought, rising and joining her mother by the door.
"Good wife Harman, you have been accused of witchcraft by members of the community and shall be-" He was cut short by Fern's cries.
"No mommy, no!" She screamed, clinging to her mother.
The magistrate ignored her and continued, "you shall be put to death by hanging tomorrow at dawn-"
"Dear God no!"
"-along with your eldest child," he resumed, "there shall be no trial. We have sufficient evidence from a trusted member of the community.
Out of the shadows Freddie came forward, a hideous grin across his face. Fern almost leapt at him, but was held back by her mother.
"Master Edwards claims to have seen you dancing in the woods and taking part in satanic rituals, do you deny?" Mr Lockwood asked.
"YES!" Fern's mother cried, "there is absolutely no truth behind these accusations! My children and I are godly people Mr Lockwood. We've done no wrong!"
"Mr Edwards also claims that he witnessed Miss Harman taking the rope from Elizabeth Williams' hanging. Now what use could there be for that except in the art of the devil?" He replied turning on Fern.
"It's a lie! Freddie tried to-he tried to-he-" she stuttered, but finally screamed it, "He tried to violate me in yonder woods this very morning!"
Her mother gasped and placed a comforting shoulder around her quivering daughter. Mr Lockwood turned to Freddie who looked as angry as Fern had ever seen him.
"Now that is a lie Mr Lockwood! She's in league with the devil! Don't believe nothing she says for it aint true!" He cried, "I saw her take that rope this morning and I followed her to warn her from her heathen ways! But I never touched her-she's barely sixteen! And the rope-the rope's in her pocket!"
Fern stared down at her woolen dress and the large pocket at the front. She had removed most of the rope and placed it in the chest beneath her bed, but she had left the knot there for good luck. It couldn't be seen from the outside because of the thickness of the material, but Freddie soon pulled it out. He plunged his hand into her pocket and pulled out the knot-it was about as big as her fist. She screamed and leapt back as he touched her.
"Don't you touch me! You fiend!" She shrieked as Mr Lockwood examined the knot. He shook his head.
"Now why would you have her hanging rope Miss Harman?" He asked sternly.
"I-I-I-" she looked to her mother, who had a look of disappointment on her face, "I-Betty was my best friend! I needed something to remember her by! She was just a child and you killed her!"
"And for good reasons! Were you her accomplice in these heathen acts? Were you?" He shouted, gripping her shoulder.
She stared down at his brown, wrinkled hand. I should kill them both right now, she thought, I know I have the power to do it.
"Never," she spat, gripping her mother tighter and Hazel, who had joined them by the door.
"No more talk. The evidence is enough. You two shall be put to death ere noon tomorrow," he replied, taking Fern's mother's arm roughly.
"What of my other child? What of Hazel? My husband died last winter and now us-what shall become of her?" Fern's mother demanded, pulling Hazel to her closely. Fern stared down at Hazel in pity, the young girl was crying endlessly into her mother's arm. She shall be the last of the Harman line, Fern thought grimly; she must not let us die out.
"The child shall be placed with a good Christian family where she shall not be exposed to your ways," he placed a sturdy hand upon Hazel's shoulder, but she shrugged it off.
Fern's mother just stared at Mr Lockwood carefully, not taking her eyes off his. She's trying to control his mind, Fern gasped mentally, and she's trying to put thoughts into his head. Fern had never been able to do this to a human, and she had no idea that her mother could either. But she couldn't change his mind drastically enough to pardon them, so what was the point?
"The child-the child shall be placed with the Hickmans, they're good folk," he said faltering.
The Hickmans were a family of pure blood witches, as were the Harmans-they were the best people for hazel to go to. Her mother had known it too.
"Come now, you are to spend the night in the town jail until tomorrow. Frederic shall escort the youngest to the Hickmans," he took Fern and her mother by the shoulders from behind and pushed them to the cart. Freddie was walking next to them, holding Hazel's hand.
"Don't you touch a hair on her head Freddie-I mean it," Fern whispered once she was in the cart. She would kill him if he did anything.
"Aw I wouldn't to that Fern, I'm done with you Harmans," he replied, stroking Fern's own chestnut curls. She batted him away and spat on his face.
"You're the scum of the earth! All of you are, my people are the ones who will win in the end! Just you wait!" She replied furiously.
He shook his head and wiped the spit from his grubby cheek, "you're crazy. Anyway I told you you'd be sorry for that little incident in the woods."
That he whispered just for Fern to hear. She glared at him as he led Hazel away. The little girl was screaming and trying to run back to her mother and sister.
"Go baby! Be safe! Never forget who you are!" Her mother cried, tears falling down her own face.
Fern was silent and only stared out into the night, planning her vengeance on this diabolical race. I won't be able to fulfill it in this life, Fern thought, but I will live again in another. I'm an Old Soul now-the spell made sure of that. Fern had heard stories of Old Souls before, people who continued living through countless lives and it was only possible for witches and humans to do so. But there weren't many Old Souls, but such rituals as the one in the woods could make you one. But her poor mother would never come back, unless she too was an Old Soul and that was very unlikely.
She gripped her mother's hand tightly, but they said nothing. Fern didn't want to explain about the rope, and she felt that her mother understood at least. That was all Fern needed, for her mother to not die blaming her own daughter.
Fern looked back at her house and sister as they went off into the night- she would never see her again.
***
Fern stood silently on the wooden platform and stared out over the bloodthirsty crowd. They get pleasure from seeing people hanged, Fern thought grimly. The night in the cell had been the longest night of Fern's life, but now the morning had arrived. Her mother stood silently next to her as the crowd jeered and shouted at them. Fern looked out over the people she now referred to as 'vermin' and tried to find friendlier faces.
All the witches were stood at the back of the crowd silently. Fern saw the Hickmans but Hazel wasn't with them. Fern was glad; she didn't want her to see this. She smiled at the Williams, who stood away from the main crowd and they smiled back. She wanted them all to wish her and her mother well as they left the world.
But someone she didn't recognise caught her eye, a young boy beneath one of the surrounding trees. He was the handsomest boy Fern had ever laid eyes on, he had long raven coloured hair pulled back into a ribbon and even from the distance Fern could tell that his eyes were bright blue. She could tell that he wasn't a witch, but there was something not quite human about him. A shapeshifter? No, Fern had seen too many of those to mistake him for one. What was he? He definitely wasn't human, she knew that for sure, so what was he?
Then it came to her. He was a vampire. Fern couldn't tell whether he was of the lamia or had been made, but she was sure that he was a vampire. She had only seen a vampire once before in her life, they were very uncommon around these parts, so where had he come from? The last vampire she had seen when she was ten years old. He was a rogue, just passing through the town, but in his way he had left half a dozen bloodless maidens behind, including two witches.
But this vampire didn't seem like that, from what Fern could see; instead he had a look of pure pain and sorrow on his face. He stared back at Fern and his expression changed to pure longing. Oh I wish I had known him, Fern thought, but maybe I'll know him in one of my next lives after all he is immortal.
"I'll come back when I wake-find me," she tried to direct these thoughts towards him, but these kind of powers weren't strong in her.
He looked startled but then nodded. Vampires had incredible telepathic powers.
'I would save you. I've searched for you for hundreds of years-I'd kill them all for you, but there are just too many,' she heard his voice inside of her head, it was full of anguish and grief.
She smiled at him, 'I understand. But I'll come back soon-in another life. Find me-I'll wait.'
Mr Lockwood's voice rang through her head, reading out their charges. She said 'aye' when he asked if she denied it and remained silent as she was placed on the stool and as the rope was fitted around her neck. She wasn't afraid-she had more lives to look forward to, lives with this beautiful stranger.
Then a thought came into her mind, 'wait, I don't know your name.'
'My name is Morgan. I'm your-'
But that was all Fern heard. The stool had been kicked out from beneath her.
***
Fern Harper sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. Pale morning light shone through her thin curtains as she banged her fist against the alarm clock. Damned thing, she thought bitterly. Ugh, Monday-her favourite day of the week, the day when the weekend is over and you have to go back to school. She hated school, she hated socialising, and she hated people. Everyone just seemed so stupid and worthless to her, she couldn't believe that she was actually one of them. She never felt like she belonged with them, she never felt like she fitted in. All she wanted was to be something other than human.
She hated humans.
Please read and review-next chapter up soon!
Note: This is my first Night World fic so be nice. Next chapter up soon! Please R/R!
Prologue
Fern watched as the cart was pulled slowly down the road followed by mindless jeers and insults from the crowd. Fern said nothing. How could she include herself in this madness? She saw other ones of her kind among the angry faces, but all of theirs were filled with immense sorrow and regret.
But they could do nothing. They could only stand back and watch as one of their kind was led to the gallows. Fern could see that the girl in the cart was trying to keep a brave face on, but the thought of what was to come was awful. But the girl never said a word or betrayed their secret-she kept silent.
"Oh Betty, I'm so sorry," Fern whispered, although she knew that the poor girl couldn't hear her words. Betty was such a good friend to her, but she was so young. How could they possibly consider sending a girl of thirteen to the gallows? It was inhumane.
Fern laughed bitterly to herself at the thought of it. Inhumane? But they were the humans, they were not of her kind. Her people had once tried to teach these barbaric people their ways and skills, to try to teach them the art of magic. But Circle Daybreak was quickly diminishing. And this is their reward, to be accused of worshipping the devil, of causing crops to fail, of making the milk go sour! Such ridiculous things! The daughters of Hecate used their powers only for good. Well most of us, she thought.
All of her kind knew the tale of Hellewise and Maya, how sister was set against sister-the ultimate battle of good and evil and even though poor, sweet Hellewise fell, good triumphed.
What I really should say is that the daughters of Hellewise only use their powers for good, she thought.
The cart arrived at the wooden structure, away from the heart of the town. People crowded in before it, trying to get the best view. Betty was pulled out of the cart and dragged up the steps and placed before the people of Salem.
"Elizabeth Williams you are hereby accused of worshipping the devil and taking parts in acts of witchcraft. Do you deny it?" The town magistrate demanded sternly.
Betty said nothing and Fern knew that she was debating on whether to tell the truth. Oh by Hellewise please don't betray us dear Betty, Fern pleaded silently. She caught Betty's eye and smiled encouragingly, Betty smiled in return and then turned back to the magistrate.
"Aye. I deny it," she spoke calmly and defiantly out to the crowd.
"She lies! She's the devil's girl! We must rid the world of such evil!" An elderly woman shrieked from the crowd. Fern glared at her and felt a strong impulse to kill the silly old hag then and there.
"Aye, she's evil!" Another shouted. "Hang her!" Screamed a young girl from the front. "Break her God forsaken neck!" A man who Fern recognised as the blacksmith cried.
The executioner grabbed Betty by her upper arm and pulled her over to the stool. Her lifted her and placed her on it, while also placing a noose about her pale neck. Oh Hecate, how did it come to this? Fern thought, trying to hold back the tears. How many witches had been hung from those very gallows? How many helpless witches had felt the merciless touch of rope around their necks? Too many by far.
Fern muttered a farewell spell beneath her breath, "Oh mighty Isis, send her safely on her way. Oh mighty Isis, send her safely on her way. Oh mighty Isis, send her-"
Betty's small voice rang out over the crowd, "Oh merciful Isis, send me safely on my way and into your glory!" Fern gasped. Oh please say no one took that seriously; oh please don't let them turn on the rest of us. But her thoughts were interrupted by what happened next.
Betty smiled at her people then jumped from the stool, leaving nothing but thin air between herself and the ground. Fern cried out in anguish, but no one took any heed to her. There was a great commotion among the crowd, and the executioner stared at the swinging body with a bemused expression upon his face.
Oh Betty you shall be avenged, terrifying thoughts came into Fern's mind, in this life or any other, but I promised you that you shall not be betrayed.
The crowd began to disperse as Betty's body was cut down and given over to her family. Good wife Williams sobbed into her daughter's limp shoulder and Mr Williams simply stared with hatred into the departing towns' folk. He was no witch, but he had gladly married one and now felt only malice towards his own kind. There was such a shortage of male witches in these parts and witches were often forced to marry human men to keep their lines going. But the men never found their wives' acts wrong. They were seen as part of the witches even though they were of human blood.
Fern walked slowly down to the grieving parents as they held their lifeless daughter tightly. They took no notice of Fern as she mounted the gallows and stood silently upon the platform. The Williams walked off, Betty still in their arms, but Fern remained and scanned the area for any humans. No, they were all back at the town, carrying on with their lives as if they hadn't just robbed a child of her life. She quickly crouched, grabbing the fallen noose and placing it in her apron. This will come in handy if your life shall not be in vain, sweet Betty, Fern thought bitterly. She stood and descended to the leaf covered ground. Fall had fallen heavily upon Salem, leaving barely a leaf on a tree.
Samhain soon, Fern thought, but its so difficult having circles out here. She turned and headed back towards her house on the outskirts of the town.
"Miss Harman, how are you going?" A voice from behind startled her. She spun round and faced her greeter. It was Frederic Edwards-he was harmless.
"Oh Freddie, its you. You startled me," she replied examining his face. By Hecate, he looked stupid. His eyes were dull and lifeless and he had a ridiculous grin on his face. He was about as interesting as a rock.
"Sorry miss. It's a shame about young Betty aint' it? But we must make sure that we destroy all evil," he had a look in his eye that sent shivers down Fern's spine, "as it says in the good book 'thou shalt not suffer a witch to live' and if its God's will then we must see it through."
"Indeed," she whispered, but all she wanted was to get away from him, "well Freddie, I really must be going. Good day to you."
A look of hunger had begun to appear in his eyes. She turned to go, but was held back by a forceful hand upon her arm.
"Oh but Miss Harman, I just want to talk to you," he laughed. The way he said 'talk' terrified Fern. She dreaded what he thought 'talk' meant.
"Get off me Freddie," she whispered through gritted teeth, "before I scream and the whole town sees you assaulting me."
He just smiled and pushed her closer to the woods. She stared in horror at his expression; it was definitely hungry and evil.
"I've always liked you Fern. And I think that if you took the chance you could learn to like me too," he placed an arm roughly around her waist and held his face close to hers.
She could feel his breath against her skin. Oh how it stank. There was no point in screaming now; no one would hear her. She was all alone with a creature of much more strength.
"Freddie, I would never like you! Not if you were the last of your petty kind on earth!" And with that she kicked him hard in the shin and struggled out of his grip as he reached for his painful leg. She ran blindly through the trees, trying desperately to get away from the furious boy. Oh Aphrodite, how could he possibly think that she loved him? He was a foul creature. All humans were. They were vermin and there was no place for them in this world. It was the world of the night and should be ruled by people of the night, not pathetic humans who cried 'witch' at anything unknown.
"You'll be sorry for that Fern Harman! Just you wait!" Freddie's voice rang clearly through the trees, but he had stopped following her. Fern clutched her side and breathed deeply, trying to find somewhere to sit. But in the end she just fell to the ground and stared up through the bare trees. The pale morning light illuminated her surroundings eerily and not a sound could be heard-not even the normal woodland sounds. Fern felt utterly alone and without a friend. None of her kind would approve of her wishes so she could not turn to them for guidance. She laughed aloud at her earlier thoughts of how the daughters of Hellewise only do good, well now that shall all change, she thought silently.
She sat up and thought back to when she had discovered her mother's book of forbidden spells. There had been one that had disgusted her so much that she had subconsciously memorised it. Well now it would be useful for her future plans.
She began to sing a song of attraction, of the attraction of the woodland creatures to her. Soon a small brown rabbit appeared beside her, she softly held out her hand and stunned it with her mind. That would be used later. But for now she had to find a way of getting the other ingredients.
Then it came to her. There was a woodcutter's cottage around here; the old man scarcely came to town so Fern almost forgot him.
Well, she thought, he will surely have the things I need.
***
She returned to the spot where she had left the motionless rabbit and set out her things. She had a wooden goblet, an ordinary knife and firewood she had collected from outside the house. She started a fire easily and began the ritual.
"By my powers as the kin of Hecate, Hellewise and Maya I call upon the power of darkness to course through my veins," she spoke calmly, taking the rabbit and cutting its throat with the knife. "I offer this as a sacrifice to you so that I shall never rest until I have rid the world of the plague of humans." She poured out the rabbit's blood into the goblet and ignored the red liquid that landed on her own clothing. She held the goblet closely to her lips and began to drink. It was exhilarating. To feel the warmth and power flow through her like that. Now she had to finish the dedication.
"Let this life force be a token that I shall strive through my lifetimes until I shall find such peace when humans are no more. May I, as my right as the superior race, let the world be rid of the weakness of humans. As I will it, so mote it be," she cried standing and flinging her arms out, causing the goblet to fly across the ground. But there was no blood left. Fern spun in a circle, willing the power to flow into her, as she deserved. She had never felt so powerful or so strong. She cast the lifeless body of the rabbit into the fire and pulled the rope out of her apron-she had forgotten about it. She cut off a couple of inches of the noose and placed it also in the dancing flames.
"By the hanging rope of a murdered witch, may this power remain with me always," she whispered, watching the rope curl and blacken.
She sat in silence for what seemed like hours. The small fire eventually went out, leaving only the rabbit's small blackened bones. She felt no guilt that she had just performed a forbidden spell. And it was forbidden to all witches, not merely maidens and it was punishable by death. She finally stood and kicked away what remained of the ash and bones. She threw the goblet and knife into the thick undergrowth and placed the remaining rope back in her apron.
It's my right to this power, she thought defiantly; I am a Harman, a direct descendant of Hecate so therefore I need feel no guilt.
The noon sun was already high in the sky and she knew that her mother would be worried in her absence, but she didn't care. She only cared for her great goal in life and all her future lives and the very thought of it made the power grow.
***
That night they sat for supper around the table and said little. The shock of Betty's hanging was still present in all their minds.
"It could have been me," whispered Hazel, Fern's twelve year old sister.
"Hush darling, we're careful enough folk. There's no reason for them to turn on us. We attend church as they do and we show none of our trues selves to them," their mother whispered, stroking Hazel's golden hair soothingly.
"Betty was careful," Fern muttered, but her mother caught it easily.
"Yes I know Fern, but you know how she often used to giggle in church. It was just her way and sadly it was her bane," her mother sighed and shook her head, "we just have to be extra careful from now on. The Inner Circle is thinking of ways to beat this threat."
It'll never work, Fern laughed inwardly, I'm the only one who can do it.
A loud banging on the door interrupted their conversation.
"Who by Hecate could that be?" Their mother whispered. She answered the door and stood back, "how can I help you Mr Lockwood?"
Mr Lockwood-the town magistrate. Oh dear Hellewise, what was in store for them? Fern thought, rising and joining her mother by the door.
"Good wife Harman, you have been accused of witchcraft by members of the community and shall be-" He was cut short by Fern's cries.
"No mommy, no!" She screamed, clinging to her mother.
The magistrate ignored her and continued, "you shall be put to death by hanging tomorrow at dawn-"
"Dear God no!"
"-along with your eldest child," he resumed, "there shall be no trial. We have sufficient evidence from a trusted member of the community.
Out of the shadows Freddie came forward, a hideous grin across his face. Fern almost leapt at him, but was held back by her mother.
"Master Edwards claims to have seen you dancing in the woods and taking part in satanic rituals, do you deny?" Mr Lockwood asked.
"YES!" Fern's mother cried, "there is absolutely no truth behind these accusations! My children and I are godly people Mr Lockwood. We've done no wrong!"
"Mr Edwards also claims that he witnessed Miss Harman taking the rope from Elizabeth Williams' hanging. Now what use could there be for that except in the art of the devil?" He replied turning on Fern.
"It's a lie! Freddie tried to-he tried to-he-" she stuttered, but finally screamed it, "He tried to violate me in yonder woods this very morning!"
Her mother gasped and placed a comforting shoulder around her quivering daughter. Mr Lockwood turned to Freddie who looked as angry as Fern had ever seen him.
"Now that is a lie Mr Lockwood! She's in league with the devil! Don't believe nothing she says for it aint true!" He cried, "I saw her take that rope this morning and I followed her to warn her from her heathen ways! But I never touched her-she's barely sixteen! And the rope-the rope's in her pocket!"
Fern stared down at her woolen dress and the large pocket at the front. She had removed most of the rope and placed it in the chest beneath her bed, but she had left the knot there for good luck. It couldn't be seen from the outside because of the thickness of the material, but Freddie soon pulled it out. He plunged his hand into her pocket and pulled out the knot-it was about as big as her fist. She screamed and leapt back as he touched her.
"Don't you touch me! You fiend!" She shrieked as Mr Lockwood examined the knot. He shook his head.
"Now why would you have her hanging rope Miss Harman?" He asked sternly.
"I-I-I-" she looked to her mother, who had a look of disappointment on her face, "I-Betty was my best friend! I needed something to remember her by! She was just a child and you killed her!"
"And for good reasons! Were you her accomplice in these heathen acts? Were you?" He shouted, gripping her shoulder.
She stared down at his brown, wrinkled hand. I should kill them both right now, she thought, I know I have the power to do it.
"Never," she spat, gripping her mother tighter and Hazel, who had joined them by the door.
"No more talk. The evidence is enough. You two shall be put to death ere noon tomorrow," he replied, taking Fern's mother's arm roughly.
"What of my other child? What of Hazel? My husband died last winter and now us-what shall become of her?" Fern's mother demanded, pulling Hazel to her closely. Fern stared down at Hazel in pity, the young girl was crying endlessly into her mother's arm. She shall be the last of the Harman line, Fern thought grimly; she must not let us die out.
"The child shall be placed with a good Christian family where she shall not be exposed to your ways," he placed a sturdy hand upon Hazel's shoulder, but she shrugged it off.
Fern's mother just stared at Mr Lockwood carefully, not taking her eyes off his. She's trying to control his mind, Fern gasped mentally, and she's trying to put thoughts into his head. Fern had never been able to do this to a human, and she had no idea that her mother could either. But she couldn't change his mind drastically enough to pardon them, so what was the point?
"The child-the child shall be placed with the Hickmans, they're good folk," he said faltering.
The Hickmans were a family of pure blood witches, as were the Harmans-they were the best people for hazel to go to. Her mother had known it too.
"Come now, you are to spend the night in the town jail until tomorrow. Frederic shall escort the youngest to the Hickmans," he took Fern and her mother by the shoulders from behind and pushed them to the cart. Freddie was walking next to them, holding Hazel's hand.
"Don't you touch a hair on her head Freddie-I mean it," Fern whispered once she was in the cart. She would kill him if he did anything.
"Aw I wouldn't to that Fern, I'm done with you Harmans," he replied, stroking Fern's own chestnut curls. She batted him away and spat on his face.
"You're the scum of the earth! All of you are, my people are the ones who will win in the end! Just you wait!" She replied furiously.
He shook his head and wiped the spit from his grubby cheek, "you're crazy. Anyway I told you you'd be sorry for that little incident in the woods."
That he whispered just for Fern to hear. She glared at him as he led Hazel away. The little girl was screaming and trying to run back to her mother and sister.
"Go baby! Be safe! Never forget who you are!" Her mother cried, tears falling down her own face.
Fern was silent and only stared out into the night, planning her vengeance on this diabolical race. I won't be able to fulfill it in this life, Fern thought, but I will live again in another. I'm an Old Soul now-the spell made sure of that. Fern had heard stories of Old Souls before, people who continued living through countless lives and it was only possible for witches and humans to do so. But there weren't many Old Souls, but such rituals as the one in the woods could make you one. But her poor mother would never come back, unless she too was an Old Soul and that was very unlikely.
She gripped her mother's hand tightly, but they said nothing. Fern didn't want to explain about the rope, and she felt that her mother understood at least. That was all Fern needed, for her mother to not die blaming her own daughter.
Fern looked back at her house and sister as they went off into the night- she would never see her again.
***
Fern stood silently on the wooden platform and stared out over the bloodthirsty crowd. They get pleasure from seeing people hanged, Fern thought grimly. The night in the cell had been the longest night of Fern's life, but now the morning had arrived. Her mother stood silently next to her as the crowd jeered and shouted at them. Fern looked out over the people she now referred to as 'vermin' and tried to find friendlier faces.
All the witches were stood at the back of the crowd silently. Fern saw the Hickmans but Hazel wasn't with them. Fern was glad; she didn't want her to see this. She smiled at the Williams, who stood away from the main crowd and they smiled back. She wanted them all to wish her and her mother well as they left the world.
But someone she didn't recognise caught her eye, a young boy beneath one of the surrounding trees. He was the handsomest boy Fern had ever laid eyes on, he had long raven coloured hair pulled back into a ribbon and even from the distance Fern could tell that his eyes were bright blue. She could tell that he wasn't a witch, but there was something not quite human about him. A shapeshifter? No, Fern had seen too many of those to mistake him for one. What was he? He definitely wasn't human, she knew that for sure, so what was he?
Then it came to her. He was a vampire. Fern couldn't tell whether he was of the lamia or had been made, but she was sure that he was a vampire. She had only seen a vampire once before in her life, they were very uncommon around these parts, so where had he come from? The last vampire she had seen when she was ten years old. He was a rogue, just passing through the town, but in his way he had left half a dozen bloodless maidens behind, including two witches.
But this vampire didn't seem like that, from what Fern could see; instead he had a look of pure pain and sorrow on his face. He stared back at Fern and his expression changed to pure longing. Oh I wish I had known him, Fern thought, but maybe I'll know him in one of my next lives after all he is immortal.
"I'll come back when I wake-find me," she tried to direct these thoughts towards him, but these kind of powers weren't strong in her.
He looked startled but then nodded. Vampires had incredible telepathic powers.
'I would save you. I've searched for you for hundreds of years-I'd kill them all for you, but there are just too many,' she heard his voice inside of her head, it was full of anguish and grief.
She smiled at him, 'I understand. But I'll come back soon-in another life. Find me-I'll wait.'
Mr Lockwood's voice rang through her head, reading out their charges. She said 'aye' when he asked if she denied it and remained silent as she was placed on the stool and as the rope was fitted around her neck. She wasn't afraid-she had more lives to look forward to, lives with this beautiful stranger.
Then a thought came into her mind, 'wait, I don't know your name.'
'My name is Morgan. I'm your-'
But that was all Fern heard. The stool had been kicked out from beneath her.
***
Fern Harper sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. Pale morning light shone through her thin curtains as she banged her fist against the alarm clock. Damned thing, she thought bitterly. Ugh, Monday-her favourite day of the week, the day when the weekend is over and you have to go back to school. She hated school, she hated socialising, and she hated people. Everyone just seemed so stupid and worthless to her, she couldn't believe that she was actually one of them. She never felt like she belonged with them, she never felt like she fitted in. All she wanted was to be something other than human.
She hated humans.
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