"Life is about choices. Some we regret, some we're proud of, and some will haunt us forever."
-Graham Brown-
The early morning light dimly began to cast away the shadows of the night, as the car traveled down the well-worn Esplanade street.
Arsetti kept her eyes facing the window taking in all the familiar sights. Watching as old, and new, houses whizzed by, until the space between each one grew further and further apart.
Magnolia trees with unripe blossoms and thick bluegrass covered in morning dew now ran plentiful, in place of residential housing. Every now and then a trodden path that led to an old plantation, with cracked windows or peeling paint, would come into view before it was once again covered by thick foliage.
Esplanade was one of the oldest and longest streets in all New Orleans and considered neutral ground by all the coven factions, and that was where her family stayed.
Almost at the very edge of the street, near Bayou St. John, in an old plantation aptly named Le' Magnolia de Fleur.
It was a place where you could find magnificent magnolia trees that bloomed year-round and a small creek with the clearest water and freshest fish you'd ever had—it was every bit as majestic from far away as it was up close.
Sealed behind iron gates trimmed in gold and engraved with the family crest, it loomed almost mockingly as it came into view. She watched as her Uber driver turned off onto the beaten dirt path that led to the massive 100-acre manor's equally massive gates.
Quickly, and quietly, she uttered a chant that would unlock and open the spelled iron.
Due to necessity, her family had to have the gates enchanted over 180 years ago.
Wiches were being brutally murdered in the street and inside their own homes as panic swept the city. Mobs of men armed with gasoline, rope and guns would raid houses, lynching and killing anyone accused of root work. Word had gotten around the city that the witches were committing mass killings and using the sacrifices to gain more power.
Of course, the rumor was false, but it caused panic among the people and the humans began killing off any one they could find, hunting them down for sport.
Many died during that time, hundreds in fact. Far worse than anything that happened in Salem:
As the last body of an accused witch burned in a flaming heap hanging limply from a tree at the very top of a hill, the gate to the LeRoux mansion slammed shut. The remaining covens rushed to the safety inside as the LeRouxs along with the former Voodoo Queen began to chant. Eyes glowing, they raised their hands to the gate and together began to enchant them.
Off in the distance, guttural sounds filled an otherwise silent alleyway as a vampire feasted on a woman no older than twenty. Before she could scream, he menacingly ripped out her throat. Wet gasps, pained whimpers and garbled chokes mingled with the vampire's ravenous grunts. As he continued to quench his thirst in the alleyway, mobs of angry New Orleans citizens filled the streets in search of more witches to burn.
Years later it had been revealed that it was in fact a vampire who had spread the lie in order to cover his own murderous tracks, but the damage had already been done.
Arsetti was pulled from her thoughts as the Uber came to a stop onto the cobblestone driveway that led to the marble stairway of the manors entrance.
After thanking her driver, she exited the car and waited for him to pop the trunk, so that she could gather her luggage.
Armed with her roll-a-ways and two large duffel bags she watched her driver pull off before making her way up the sprawling stairs to the front door. Reaching into her pocket with her free hand, she pulled out a key she hadn't used in 4 years and placed it in the key hole.
The lock clicked and the door creaked open, as she quietly trudged her way inside. Immediately the, once dark, foyer was flooded with light and Fe's booming voice destroyed its quietness.
"Cousin! I was just about to head to the airport to pick you up," he beamed. His magenta and purple ombre hair swaying slightly as he came around the corner. The bright colors set against his sepia skin and dainty yet defined jawline made him resemble a live action anime character.
"Glad you at least remembered how to get here," he jokingly barbed. "Need me to show you where your room is, or you got it?"
"I got it," came Arsetti's tired reply with a equally tired and slightly awkward wave of her hand. The heavy duffel bags began to dig into her skin leaving red indentations as gravity continued to weigh upon them. "You could help me with my bags though. They're starting to get heavy."
Nodding his head, Fe grabbed both duffel bags and one of her roll-a-ways. Together they took her things upstairs to her old room. Her grandmother had kept everything just the way she had left it, right down to the wrinkles in her dark magenta comforter.
Quickly, with her cousin's help she put away her belongings and followed him back down the stairs. Silently, they headed into the receiving room where each coven's leader, the LeRoux's that could make it on such short notice and newly appointed resident mediator between the factions and the vampires, had gathered to bear witness to the transference of power. As custom those in attendance were clad in black. Well, except Arsetti.
She hadn't even changed out of her club clothes before she had gotten on the plane and the material of her cream-colored bandage dress began to feel almost too tight against her skin. While its knotted tassels tickled her thighs, her heels chafed the soles of her feet with each clicking step she took down on the polished granite floor.
"Are you good cousin?" came Fe's concerned inquiry, as he eyed the now apprehensive girl.
Feeling her words would fail her, she only nodded mutely. Stopping, Fe turned around and pulled her into a hug.
"Setti, baby everything is gonna be alright," he comforted. "It'll all be over before you know it. It's only gonna hurt for a second, okay? So, just breathe through it and you'll be fine, I promise."
"Please tell me Uncle Merrick is not the one presiding over the ceremony," she asked uneasy with that idea.
It was no secret, her Uncle hated the fact he would never get the throne. Envious, couldn't begin to describe him. The old saying, "if your ugly inside your ugly outside" could be aptly applied to the elder.
Though grey hair had begun to fill both the sides of his hairline and his well manicure goatee, Merrick LeRoux was still undeniably a handsome man. Like Fe', he was tall with broad shoulders. Most of the LeRoux men tended to had this trait, even Arsetti's younger brother Quinton. Merrick's appearance was exactly what most people thought of when the word creole' was mentioned. Even the media tended to portray creole' people with slightly wavy hair, colored eyes and light skin; so often that it had become ingrained in most people's mind that those were the only characteristics of creole' people—and that's exactly how Merrick looked.
However, his envious heart and snobbish ways took away from any handsomeness he held and displayed the ugly soul that he truly was. It was no secret that it was the LeRoux women that held the most power, systematically and physically, and for a man with nothing to offer but toxic masculinity and narcissism—it was a huge blow to his over inflated ego. How such a sweet and cheerful soul came from such a man was beyond anyone's comprehension. Yet, Bianca was proof that maybe there was at least one redeemable quality buried deep down somewhere within Merrick.
If Merrick was the one performing the ceremony Arsetti had no doubt he would try his best to not only fuck it up but get some sort of sick pleasure out of it.
Giggling, drew her out of her thoughts as her eyes drifted back to Fe`.
"He wish," answered her cousin flippantly. "You know ain't nobody bout to let that man come through and ruin shit. He sitting his ass in the background right where he belongs."
Giving her one last comforting squeeze, he released her and together they walked into the receiving room.
Large windows that ran high into the air were covered by drawn burgundy drapes as golden cords dangled on each side. Antique furniture trimmed in dark oak with cushions of rich reds and creams decorated the room. three crystal chandeliers hung high above them, dangling gracefully in antebellum era splendor as oak tables that held priceless figurines intermingled among the sofas and chairs.
This place was just as beautiful as she remembered and, for a second, she felt like a little girl again. Running around carefree and hiding among its many dark corners in playful childishness.
However, she was not a little girl anymore and as she stared into the faces of all the people in the room she tried to hide her nervousness. Scanning the room, she looked for other familiar faces. She wasn't surprised when her eyes landed on Merrick and his lack of black attire. Instead, he wore a dull grey suit that oddly match his sullen mood and slight scowl. Rolling her eyes, she focused her attention in a different direction and smiled brightly when they landed on a familiar and welcomed face— Aurelien.
Aurelien "Aura" Pierre-Baptiste Le'Moune, was the pinnacle of fashion. The ebony beauty stayed up to date on trends like most people drank water, and today was no different. Draped in a classy Versace dress, and modest yet stylish pumps, she looked every bit like a Goddess. Considering what the people of Saint Lucia thought of soucouyants, maybe she was. Eyes meeting Arsetti's with both worry and warmth, she smiled and gave a slight wave before politely continuing her conversation with a group of faction leaders. Even though Arsetti was her friend, she had a duty as mediator between the witches and the vampires to follow proper protocol of such a high profile event.
"Setti," called the rich voice of her grandmother lovingly. She was standing in the center of the room wearing a small but tired smile. "Come child and let us began."
Nodding her head, Arsetti made her way over. As soon as she was close enough, she was pulled into a tight hug by her grandmother. "I missed you, Setti." The elder LeRoux whispered into her hair.
"I missed you too, MeMaw," came the girl's mumbled reply.
"I know your scared but your mother's fate is not your own," confessed her grandmother quietly. "We are the masters of our fate, the weavers of our own destiny. I believe with my whole heart that you will keep New Orleans strong and keep the covens united. There is darkness headed this way baby—be ready."
Pulling away, she led Arsetti over to a marbled table, made from moonstone and lined with white candles. In its center sat a golden chalice and ceremonial knife with a hilt made of bone, be it animal or otherwise remained unclear, and trimmed in gold.
Blocking out everything else, Arsetti focused on her grandmother's loving face. Watching as Sadie's eyes conveyed a message she couldn't say aloud.
Be strong.
Fe took his position at in front of them. Grabbing the knife and chalice, he addressed the spectators in the room.
"We here today will bear witness to the passing of power. As one Voodoo Queen passes another shall begin her reign. Blessed by the ancestors to live until a new Queen is ready to ascend. Then, consecrated back into the earth and trees from which we draw our power."
His voice boomed across the large room and all were silent as anticipation grew. It wasn't easy what he was about to do but he tried his best not to let his nerves, nor his sadness, show. This was the way it was done and it would always be this way—it had to.
Taking a deep breath, he continued with the passage rites no one the wiser to his inner turmoil. "For 254 years Sadie LeRoux has reigned strong and now she has chosen to move on to the ancestral lands. Are you ready?"
Grabbing Arsetti's hands, Sadie gave them a gentle squeeze before looking to Fe'.
"I am," she confirmed in a voice strong and firm.
Looking to Arsetti, Fe' asked, "and Arsetti LeRoux are you prepared to inherit your birthright and begin your reign as New Orleans new Voodoo Queen?"
Taking a deep breath, she steeled her nerves and nodded, "I am."
"Though I will be gone in body, I will always be with you in spirit," whispered her grandmother quickly. "Hold on tight Setti and don't let go no matter what," she cautioned as she did her best to prepare them both for what was to come next.
"Then, it is time to receive what belongs to you—all the power of your ancestors. So it begins," commanded Fe.
"So it begins," repeated the duo followed by all the spectators.
Arsetti could feel the blood rushing through her veins as her heart pumped furiously in her chest. She watched as her grandmother's eyes began to change from sepia to white. The magnolia tattoos that told of her position shimmered as they slowly began to creep over from one LeRoux to the other. The branches of the tree spread quickly as they inked over to Arsetti like the blood that raced through her veins.
Distantly, she could hear chanting but it sounded so far away over the roaring beat of her own heart. Magnolia blossoms began to sway as if caught in a breeze as they ran along Arsetti's limbs. Soon the blossoms were joined by skeletons, as one by one they began to hang themselves with tightly wrapped nooses from the inky black branches in between the colorful flowers, their faces twisted in eternal horror. Power began to course though her with each new bloom and lynched skeleton that appeared on the magnolia branches.
"I love you Setti," whispered her grandmother, as one lone tear streaked down her cheek. "I know you'll make me proud."
Before Arsetti could respond Fe' walked around to stand behind Sadie. At this point he couldn't stop the tears as they began to fall from his eyes freely—and he didn't want to. He let them see his grief even as his voice was strong and sure, and felt his heart break into a million pieces at his next words.
"From the earth we reap our power and from the body we sow it back. Take your place among our ancestors Sadie Fenouit LeRoux. So, shall it be," he finished firmly and just a bit broken at the very end. Pulling back her head by her mop of sandy brown hair, he tried his best not to let his hands quiver as he slit her throat. Quickly, replacing the knife for the chalice, he slid it underneath the wound as the black blood flowed freely. Only stopping when the chalice was full.
turning to Arsetti, he placed the chalice to her lips. Remembering her grandmother's directions, she held firm to the elder LeRoux's quickly cooling hands and drank from the cup its contents in greedy gulps.
Like fire, it burned its way down her throat and pain consumed her body. Before her very eyes she watched the death of each of her ancestors. As each one died they walked through her and gave her their power. Her body screamed in agony and she tried to control her breathing.
Fe' had told her the pain only lasted a second but now that she was experiencing it, it felt more like an eternity. Bolt after bolt of hot-white searing pain shot through and she felt as if her insides were roasting on an open fire. Finally, the last soul made its way to her. A peaceful smile adorned her face as she approached.
"Keep the peace Setti and remember your fate is not your mothers. You are much stronger than you know," came the soft voice of her grandmother. "I'm always with you."
And with that, she passed through her and gave to her granddaughter all her power.
Everyone watched in awestruck amazement as Arsetti's eyes began to change. Gone was the brownish hazel they had been only a moment ago. Like her grandmother's they turned all white as bolts of lightning began to rain down upon the room, a storm began to brew.
Faster and stronger the bolts rained down, as thunder began to roar outside. Clouds gathered quickly outside of the manor's double doors, rolling and crashing into themselves, intensifying the thunder and filling with rain.
It didn't take long for that dam to break, unleashing torrents of tiny drops upon Creole' City and its unsuspecting natives.
Slowly, the lightning died down around the girl before settling itself within her irises. With each blink the bolts flashed and the murky white her eyes had become, slowly began to dissipate. And as the lightning died, only the light brown of her hazel eyes remained. On wobbly legs Arsetti tried her best to remain upright. The world around her began to spin and dance as she fought to stay on her feet. It was a battle she was quickly losing.
"Meet your new Voodoo Queen, New Orleans, Arsetti Fenouit LeRoux," boomed Fe' proudly despite his tears.
At their applause and cheers she finally lost the battle and the young queen's world suddenly went black.