October 31st, 1692
A chorus of yells filled the small coastal setting of Hilltowne, Massachusetts as a band of men dressed in linen shirts and ragged coats and women in corsets, bonnets and full skirts marched down the cobbled street to the edge of town. They met the outskirts of the woods where the cobblestone pathway turned to a muddy trail but they persevered through, encouraged by a collective emotion of anger and spurred on by the mobs' aim to protect their beloved home.
As they journeyed further into the wooded area, the trees began to thicken, their branches filling up with more leaves, darkening the evening sky more so. The mob marched down the uneven terrain, the light of blazing torches illuminating the way to their destination. They eventually reached a small, wooden cabin that rested in the middle of the woods. The home was surrounded by lush flowers, with a pathway lit with lanterns containing dripping candles, lighting up the outside of the cabin in a golden glow.
The inside of the house itself seemed to be devoid of any light though, but the angry residents of Hilltowne knew that the it was not vacant; that someone was hiding from them… But not for long.
The leader of the mob, a handsome man with long, brown hair that fell to his shoulders handed his torch to someone behind him. He turned swiftly to the group, his hands gripping his belt, catching the attention of the followers.
"Residents of Hilltowne," He called to the large mob, "Let today serve as a lesson to those who want to defy society's rules through deviant acts."
"Let today serve as a pinnacle moment that those pure of heart will stomp out the evils of the world such as this," He pointed towards the cabin, his voice raising, and then he bellowed out, "And let today be known as the day we burnt the witch!"
There was a chorus of cheers as the men and women waved their fists, torches or pitchforks to the air in unison. "Burn the witch!" The mob screamed in unity, filling the woods with egregious shouts forcing the crows that hung in the low branches of the trees to shoot off into the air as an act of defence from an unknown predator.
The leader smirked, raising his fist to the air as he turned back to the cabin. He lowered his arm as he pushed his way through the front door, sending it almost flying off its hinges, entering the dark living area of the home.
It admittedly had a comforting feeling and was filled with apothecary furniture; a long, wooden table, shelves filled with large books, and a large dresser. Off to the side was a stone fireplace that had recently been extinguished as smoke rose from the burnt logs. At the far side of the living area was a door that lead to another dark room.
Out from the shadows of the room came a pretty woman with blonde, long hair, dressed in a full skirt, corset and a cloak. She glared at the intruder, standing still, bravery and fury flowing through her.
"Hello, Matthew." The woman greeted coldly, her hands raising to her hips.
"Hello, Melinda." The mob leader Matthew replied coyly, folding his arms against his chest.
Melinda stepped forward, anger and even sadness coursing through her veins. "You betrayed me. You never loved me." She said hoarsely.
"You got what you deserved." Matthew retorted, his grin contorting to a frown, his brow furrowing. "I had to make you trust me, it was the only way I could share your powers."
"And so now I'll burn. You've lead a mob to my home." Melinda stated, her eyes widening, glancing behind Matthew to an angry crowd, lit up by the flames of torches and lanterns outside. "Why didn't you just kill me after absorbing my powers?"
"In case you haven't noticed, Hilltowne has been rocked by a number of mysterious murders." Matthew sneered, smirking again, "I had to make sure the trail didn't lead back to me."
"I had to keep my secret."
"So, you were the one murdering all those women?" Melinda said, horrified.
"Not women, my dear." Matthew corrected. "Witches."
"Then you must be…" Melinda began, the puzzle slowly solving in her mind.
"Yes, I am." Matthew confirmed, smirking evilly, pulling out a steel athame.
Melinda's lips also formed into a grin, moving one hand from her hip as she flicked her finger at the front door. It swung close with a bang, and immediately the mob outside let out a chorus of yells, and immediately began banging against the door to open, but to no avail.
"You're not taking me." Melinda said, pulling out a beautiful locket, with an engraving of a symbol on the metal: three interlocking ovals with a circle in the middle.
She wrapped the chain around the ornament and threw it at Matthew, who caught it one hand. The chain unravelled, and the locket burst open, with a piece of paper popping out. The parchment caught fire, and he threw it to the ground.
"What magic is this?" Matthew yelled, shocked.
"I'm taking back the powers you stole from me." Melinda replied, hands returning to her hips. "Now, I'm making sure you never hurt another witch or mortal ever again."
A gust of wind erupted from the locket, blowing dust around the room, swirling around Matthew and trapping him in an invisible barrier. The wind grew stronger as Melinda chanted:
"Outside of time,
Outside of gain,
Know only sorrow,
Know only pain."
Matthew began to disappear as the wind swirled around in the form of a tornado, then returned to the locket as it closed shut. Melinda grinned and leaned down, grabbing the locket by its chain and dangled it in the air. Her eyes shift from left to right, following the ornament, then returning it to her cloak.
She made her way into the dark room just outside the living quarters. It was a small area, filled to the brim with shelves of old books, melted candles, and unusual decor. On the other side of the room lay an old but beautiful chest, closed by leather buckles.
She opened the chest, her eyes meeting the lone object within: A dark green, leather bound book with the same emblem that was on the locket (Three interlocking ovals, also connected by a circle) in a deep shade of crimson.
This was her destiny: to create a magical tome filled with her knowledge of witchcraft and magic, both light and dark, and to pass it on to her descendants.
Melinda had confidence that her family would pass on their magical knowledge to each generation, the power of the Warren line strengthening, culminating in the arrival of three sisters - Something she prophesised after a vision she received when she first held her child just after she was born.
The Charmed Ones: The most powerful good witches ever known, destined to fight the forces of evil.
She picked up the leather volume and opened it to it's first page, which only contained the words, 'The Book of Shadows'. The following pages were filled with notes on spells, potions and magical creatures, all written in a beautiful, cursive font.
Melinda flipped through these pages until she met the last entry she wrote. It was to her daughter.
My Dearest Prudence,
As soon as you read this entry, I will be gone; stolen from you by the residents of Hilltowne, all of which are too close minded to understands that our Warren magic is a great force of good.
I have good faith that the coven will take you in and care for you, as if you are their own flesh and blood. They will teach you to abide by the Wiccan Rede; they will teach you control and develop your abilities; and most importantly, they will teach you compassion.
Do not mourn me, my darling, for as long as you have the Book of Shadows, I will always be with you.
Love always and forever,
Melinda
Melinda let out a sob but didn't let the tears flow. She knew this was her fate – she knew what would happen if a woman was exposed as a witch, whether she was one or not – but it didn't make the idea of leaving her daughter, Prudence, any easier.
She closed the Book of Shadows, her fingers lightly touching the intricate symbol on the cover: The triquetra. She then proceeded to place the Book back into the chest, and as she closed the lid, a glow embraced the trunk.
Suddenly, the front door burst open and the angry towns people entered, immediately creating carnage by destroying the home, demanding for Melinda.
She sighed, closing her eyes for a second, then composed herself. She stood up tall, placing her hands back on her hips and turned swiftly around to the angry crowd outside the room. She came out of the shadows, facing the mob.
Two large and bulky men immediately grabbed Melinda by her arms, forcing her in to the middle of the living area.
"Where is Matthew?" One man demanded, his pitchfork dangerously close to Melinda's neck. The mob slowly circled around her, closing in.
"What have you done to him?" The other pressed on, his hold tightening on her arm, making her flinch in pain.
With her true identity as a witch exposed, Melinda had nothing else to lose. No matter what, she was going to burn. "You really don't want to know." She said sinisterly, glaring.
"Burn her!" One woman called out with an angry, croaky voice, "Burn the witch!"
Then suddenly, the entire mob repeated the same three words, like a mantra. The two men holding Melinda nodded to one another and started moving towards the door silently. They pushed her forcefully out the door way to the outside.
Melinda admittedly began to get very frightened, as if the voices from the mob increased in volume, and the vast wooded area began to feel enclosed. She felt as if she couldn't breathe, and it didn't help that the villagers that held torches waved them very close to her face, causing her to feel the scorching heat. Sweat shone on her brow as she attempted to starve off the whimper that tried to escape her lips.
She wanted to appear brave. Strong. Even in death, she wanted to be a role model for Prudence: to stare into the face of danger and remain resilient.
The two men pushed her further away from her beloved home, and unbeknownst to everyone else, the magical locket belonging to Melinda fell out of her cloak. The crowd passed over it as they slowly marched their way from the cabin to the trees that would lead them back to Hilltowne.
One by one the villagers and Melinda entered the fog that just waved in to the woods. Melinda's home felt so devoid of life now. It was derelict; the beautiful hand-crafted furniture that filled the front room had been destroyed, and the door had been left open to intruders or woodland creatures.
But through the woods, across from the path where the mob walked down, came three women out of the fog, one of which was holding an infant dressed in a blanket.
One woman who had bright red hair stared off to the distance, unable to see the villagers within the mist. "It's safe, we can go in."
An elderly woman, who was holding the small child, lead first. She entered the cabin cautiously, turning around to all the carnage with watery eyes, subconsciously holding the baby tighter, conforming her.
The two other women, one with brown hair, entered the living room. They stared at each other, nodded and immediately started rearranging the quarters until it looked more organised, with a clear, empty space in the centre where all three women and the baby stood.
"Eva, what do we do now?" The brown-haired woman asked pleadingly. "Melinda has been taken by the villagers."
"We honour Melinda and her prophecy." The elderly woman Eva said simply, showing off the infant in her hands to her partners. "We raise Prudence and teach her the Wiccan Rede, and hope she passes her Warren magic on to the next generation."
Baby Prudence whined a little as she woke up from her deep sleep. Eva shushed her sweetly, holding her tightly.
"Don't cry, Prudence." Eva whispered sweetly, "Everything will be all right. I will never let anyone hurt you."
She rearranged Prudence's blankets that she remained soundly snuggling in, showing off the small triquetras knitted into the cloth. Eva's index finger circled the symbol, holding back a sniffle, her heart aching over the loss of Melinda.
Outside, the sky had now become a deep shade of blue as it slowly became night. The woods were covered in dark shadows, with the moonlight illuminating the clearing of the cabin, as well as the locket that still sat outside on the grass.
Out from the mist came a shadowy figure, dressed in a long cloak, hands on their hips, smirking at the women inside the house. They noticed the locket on the grass a few feet away from the cabin, strode confidently over to it and picked it up by it's chain. Dangling it in front of their face, their eyes watched the ornament swing left to right, almost in a trance.
The glare that previously adorned their face contorted into a malicious smile as they realised what the chunk of metal was and who it belonged to. The figure tucked the locket into their cloak pocket and raised their hood above their head, hiding their face in deeper shadows.
Turning around, the figure returned to the fog and entered the deep woods, letting out a low chuckle, a plan forming in their mind.