Counting Corvids Chapter One

Chapter One: “Here we go”

 

This story is as old as time itself, but as new as the ink I write with. This story is my life, my death and what happened next.

For my story to begin to make sense an open mind is needed. Many generations ago my family stemmed from three sisters, triplets. Daughters of a Goddess, Hecate. They were born in the exact same place as I, a stone circle on a Scottish island. I had been over a thousand years after the triplets, my great, great, great well you know where that is heading. Like their birth, my birth had an effect on the world. When we were born, all the magic in the world stopped for a short while.

The daughters of Hecate each held power over an elemental property; flames, earth and mist. These three women started a new species of magic, a new species of witch, the Elementals. There are rumours that the three founders of the line are still alive after consuming the last breath of Hecate. It is said they are the elders and guides for our magic.

It is said that as the three sisters altered the destiny of one man, the ripple caused death after death of many. Neither good nor evil claimed them damning them and by extension me into an afterlife in purgatory. Since then we have been attempting to build an alliance through generations of good karma. Of course no good deed goes unpunished. The witch hunts were brutal.

At some point the elders sent word during the trials, should a child of all three lines be born into eligibility then they shall forge the path from purgatory into a new world and afterlife. As with all ancient stories they become rumour, fairy tale and myths. And that is why I am here, standing in the same stone circle at the turning of the years, like my mother did twenty one years ago at this very moment when I was born.

The three of us are no longer alone in the circle. In this darkness is where the story starts. There was a blinding flash of violet light in the circle before the world went black. The magic had once again stopped. In the darkness three voices chorused. Of course I had no idea what they said, I was out cold. From the gist of what Dad has said that the myth or legend of a chosen one, well that is me, he was the only one managing to stay half conscious to hear. I can’t quite explain why. Anyway it seems that I am the supposed guiding light my ancestors have been waiting for. No pressure. As the sun rose on the New Year it rose on us also, around us surrounding the circle had been hundreds of magpies, they had stopped watching me, instead they glared at the single crow taking flight away from the circle.

The wings of the magpies burst into flames as they swarmed and dived at us until the wings stopped burning and the magpies themselves plumed fresh char free feathers.

I’m not sure if it was the entire event or my childhood that freaked my parents out the most. You see, the problem is I didn’t have a normal childhood, my parents couldn’t risk me going to school. I was the breaker of hundreds of years of tradition, I had been born with powers, specifically basic flame powers.

Safe to say my shooting flames made my parents jumpy. I remember feeling lonely as a child, I struggled with mastering my power, my emotions. Apparently when I was three I had a strange encounter with a magpie. I liked magpies, I always have even if it was something I shouldn’t be proud of, my parents were wary. Once I had bowed to a magpie, it bowed back and flew to my shoulder. Since then I have always thought of magpies as sweet companions despite my parent’s very clear unease. The amount of hushed whispered arguments I had heard from the stairs always swam through in the darkness.

I think the magpies at the circle sealed our fate. Mum insisted we move to a town in Texas that is filled with magic that way I could learn to master my new abilities in peace without fear of discovery, so they say. I hated the idea, but I had no choice or no way to argue.

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