Part 41 (1/2)
”Covens,” Franka whispered.
”Indeed.” Lavinia smiled. ”And here,” Valentine felt Lavinia's hand tighten, knowing her other did the same with Franka's, ”we sisters stand, in nature, in magic, and now, Franka, my sister-witch, my daughter, my mother, my ally, my friend, I bid you to feel the cold. Feel the snow beneath your boots. The sting of ice in the air against your skin. The cool freshness of it in your nose, down your throat, in your lungs. The strength of the adela growing in the nurturing embrace of the earth. The whisper of the gentle wind in your ear. Close your eyes, my friend, and open your senses. Feel the magic all around you. Celebrate it for it is beauty, and the fact that beauty lives inside you.”
Valentine watched Franka close her eyes.
When she did, Valentine did the same.
It was time.
”We are one,” Valentine declared quietly.
”We are one,” Lavinia repeated after her.
Valentine squeezed Franka's hand as a prompt.
”We are one,” she whispered, taking her cue.
”We are earth,” Valentine stated.
”We are earth,” Lavinia repeated.
”We are earth,” Franka said.
”We are air,” Valentine decreed, her voice rising.
”We are air,” Lavinia echoed, her voice doing the same.
”We are air.” Franka followed suit.
”We are the sea,” Valentine said, now on a low cry, the winds through their words kicking up as that element, too, celebrated the power in that glade. The cold now biting, their heavy cloaks beginning to sway, their hair getting mussed, and after she spoke, her witches followed with the same words.
And with each additional chant, their voices carried into the air louder and louder, the pine rustling, the powder of snow under their feet catching in the wind and drifting up, swirling around them.
”We are wind.”
”We are rain.”
”We are the rays of the sun.”
And on this decree, the three witches started chanting together. Franka drawn into the magic through her sisters, knowing the words by instinct, their voices ringing straight to the heavens, their words carried up on tufts of wind and whirls of snow glittering in the moonlight.
”We are the light of the moon. We are power. We are strength. We are the dark. We are the light. We are magic. We...are...sisters!”
And with that, a burst of emerald, gra.s.s green and sapphire shot in a twisted circle from their boots into the sky, and the three women were thrown back several steps. Losing their connection, they opened their eyes to see the glade around them swirling with wafting clouds of greens and blue s.h.i.+mmering off the gentle, floating flurries settling around them.
But Franka was standing, hands lifted before her, blood-red sparks glinting from them, illuminating her face, a face now tainted with alarm.
”Do not fear, Franka,” Lavinia said gently, again edging close. ”She burns away. Your sapphire soul is good, it's strong, it's pus.h.i.+ng out the wickedness and spite. It won't take long, it'll cause no pain and then it will be gone.”
Lavinia was quite right and was proved so when, in mere moments, the last of the red sparked with trails of cobalt until there was nothing but blue, and finally, the glimmers died away.
Valentine and Lavinia stood silent as Franka remained still and staring at her hands.
It took time but she eventually lifted her head.
And Valentine felt the soft curve lift the corners of her mouth as she saw the wonder in her sister's expression.
”It's beautiful, isn't it?” she asked quietly, feeling that same beauty. The beauty she felt any time she called up her craft or was around a sister using hers. The tingle of it on her skin. The warmth of it through her insides. The thrill of it up her spine. The heat of it in her s.e.x. The sumptuous taste of it down her throat. The glorious energy of it in her fingertips.
Oh, but it was good her companion was waiting for her at the cottage and she had planned what she had planned, as for once she could take these feelings and exalt in them just as she should do, joyously and uninhibitedly.
”It's...well, nothing like I've ever known,” Franka replied.
”But beautiful, yes?” Lavinia prompted.
Franka shook her head and Valentine felt her brows draw together.
”That isn't the word,” Franka explained, crossing her arms at her front. Not protectively, she'd curled her hands around her biceps and was stroking them as if she was trying to keep the feeling close, hold it to her, not lose it. ”There is no word to describe this beauty,” she finished reverently.
Valentine relaxed and again smiled.
”I...” Franka went on and shook her head again, this time shorter, sharper shakes, like she was clearing it, but her gaze was steadfast on Valentine. ”I thank you. I...thank you, my sister,” she finished on a heartfelt whisper. ”I would not think I'd wish anything from her. Anything that was hers. But...” she swallowed and finished, ”you were right. I'll remember this night always, her end, my beginning.”
Oh yes, Valentine very much liked this witch.
Both Valentine and Lavinia approached and all of them again clasped hands.
”It was my honor,” Valentine shared the truth.
”And mine to be here,” Lavinia added.
”I wouldn't have chosen this, not if you hadn't advised it,” Franka told Valentine. ”And you will have my grat.i.tude for as long as I remain breathing.”
”It's most appreciated,” Valentine accepted before she gave her a small smile. ”And it's also cold. We will soon meet again. Your training now commences.”
It was not blinding, but there was excitement in Franka's eyes that she didn't hide.
Progression.
Excellent.
”The sisterhood,” Lavinia said on a tightening of her hand.
”The sisterhood,” Valentine repeated, doing the same.
”The sisterhood,” Franka trailed, her hand tightening and her lips twitching.
Valentine broke away.