It only took three ragged breaths for all of the witches of the coven to gather around Sansa, and the knife she held against my throat.
As soon as the first was out, the ones not completely transfixed by the scene in front of them scurried out of the room with wide-eyed little witches dragged behind them.
What followed the second was utter silence and feet reluctantly stepping even closer to Sansa and I, forming a semi-circle around us and the wall behind my back.
The final breath carried the smallest tinge of surprise with it, as realization washed over me - no one was moving nor protesting against any of what they were seeing.
“Sansa”, I said with difficulty. “ Lower the knife”
At that, she only inched closer, one slight pressure away from drawing blood.
“I am no fool. The whispers floating through the corridors carry the long forgotten truth. The curses found passage in the designed heir to reach this world, don’t you dare lie to us.”
I didn’t acknowledge her accusation. Not yet and not under these circumstances. Not until I’m sure that was really the curses’ doing, and not a matter of coincidence involving strong intuition and a terrible disaster.
So instead of talking, I curled my hands around her arm and pushed it farther away from my throat, not expecting her to plant her feet firmly on the floor and resist to my pushing with surprising strength.
“Might I remind you that the relationship established with the heir impacted significantly who was next in line to death. I’d release her if I were you”, Kronak’s voice echoed from somewhere behind Sansa, who widened her eyes at the warning coming from the eldest standing in this room. After she took a faltering step towards me, she stared me down with such fury… but finally, took a step back and hurried out of the room.
The only one that followed her was Triskia, a flash of her grey hair catching my eyes for a brief second. I took note of it in my mind, finding it strange that these two didn’t seem close at all for this sort of behavior.
At last released, I gulped air and did the most to hide the dread I felt deep inside, choosing my next words carefully.
“We have yet to know if what happened today was the return of the curses. But we will not stand still until then. Let us wish for mercy upon the Cauldron.”
The sound of steps was everything one could hear in the place many considered to be our home. Night descended upon us and we followed it down to the room we had wished to never enter.
Once we reached the end of the stairs and walked past Kronak’s quarters, the enclosed place containing the Cauldron seemed to call us closer to it. And even though everyone seemed to share the same dread felt deep inside, we answered its calls by moving towards it.
The doors closed behind me and I encountered darkness inside… until the Cauldron made itself visible, lightening up the room with splashes of glistening red coming out of it - calling the elders forth, to present themselves first.
As Kronak walked toward it with an unsettling ease, I allowed myself to wonder why she cared to help me… lingering on our exchanged favor earlier - three strands of hair and a page from the oracle’s book for the potion. Was she thanking me for that? But it couldn’t be, it was always a favor for another, and never a single favor for two others.
My suspicions were quieted by the Cauldron responding to the elder’s presence behind it, splashing a deep red liquid out of it, that Kronak immediately took as permission to submerge her hands in and start her presentation.
“I do not fear death. Come at me if you will”, her words were harsh and spoken with an authority she had no right to, compared to the mystical object in front of her.
I looked around and saw my face mirrored by the others, as Kronak left the room,all of the witches standing in a circle were stunned by how the Cauldron was treated, how the curses were undermined and challenged.
The others that were next were incredibly more careful with their words, even if I could sense that some didn’t believe this presentation had the potencial to be their saving. I would never say it, but I shared the same feelings of distrust.
The truth was that during the curses, the ones that didn’t make these presentations were often taken first, compared to those that did. Along with that, there were instances that as some submerged their hands in the liquid pool inside the Cauldron, they were able to see their destiny, not depending on the heir to tell them how it would all unfold - though this was rare, it didn’t stop witches from exiting their own quarters to move to this room, so they could dip their hands throughout the day, hungry for answers.
“I, Hynee, present myself to you and hope mercy comes at me. My mother and sister hunger to see me remain here and I kindly ask that I do.”
I continued observing each one, curious at how they would approach it, Hynee kept it how many did, proving her value through the association to others, hoping that the Cauldron shared mercy for both the witch and those that would suffer greatly from her loss -showing that the death of one would mean the death of three.
“I, Wyn, present myself to you and hope mercy comes at me. The coven relies on my knowledge to not let those who mean harm get close enough to make us bleed. The coven hungers to see me remain here and I kindly ask that I do.”
Those who did not have remaining family usually took Wyn’s route, proving her worth through her use to the coven, implying that her death could mean the death of many, since she was one of our protectors against ill-intentioned men that dared to try to find us roaming the woods.
One by one, they pleaded and made themselves known, they left the room with red hands dripping onto the floor and somber faces… until it was my time. The last remaining.
With the lack of others, the room seemed to get darker, and my stomach churned as I walked towards the Cauldron and dipped my hands inside. The liquid was cold and I forced myself to focus when I noticed that I was already elbows deep inside, my body being pulled towards it in a strong calling.
“I, Lyria, present myself to you. I am the designed heir of his coven and…”
Worthless.
Weak.
Undeserving.
The coven’s words filled my mind. Words spoken lightly, in the dark of night, floating through the corridor and reaching my room.
I didn’t know what else to say, I wanted to tell it that if the curses were really back, and they really found passage in the designed heir, and my thoughts were not filled simply with intuition… Let it take me .
But I found myself unable to say it out loud like Kronak, I guess I wasn’t as evolved as her regarding my fears. I couldn’t find in myself, deep down, the conviction of not really caring about what would happen to me.
The Cauldron’s liquid started pulling my hands further inside, deeper and deeper. And I panicked for a moment… was it answering my request?
Suddenly, all of the liquid extinguished in front of me, and only my inked hands remained… and seemed to have a mind of its own. I started writing inside the Cauldron, against its bottom, and when my fingers stopped, I knew the message I read wasn’t actually written by me.
You will not leave so soon. Not so soon.
I gasped and was pushed back by a pool of glistening red filling up the Cauldron once more.
Amidst my surprise and terror filled mind, I didn’t even notice that neither Sansa nor Triska ever showed up to the presentation.
As I walked through the corridors, I noticed curious eyes that traced my hands up to my shoulders - the only witch with her arms covered in ink. When I finally reached my room, I kneeled down and let go of the cry I was holding on to, letting my sobs echo.
We always have your room.
I thought I had just been heavy-handedly with the insects…
Hynee told me this is the last day of spring…
The littlest flower will fall…
I looked down at the blue flowers on the floor… except, I had left them under my bed, and now they were in the middle of my room.
My hands turned cold, unease spreading through my entire body.
That was when I noticed, in the middle of the petals, a message was awaiting.
A favor for a favor. Never two for one.