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“I know, Mother. The gods didn’t see fit to grant me three. But my daughter is a great gift. You said so yourself. She is the most powerful witch these lands have ever beheld. Can’t we be contented and celebrate that?” Manea stood trembling before her mother, cold in the drafty room. Chilled to the bone by the dampness within the stone walls, daunted by the dragons that decorated it, and worried about the fate of her newborn daughter.

“And that is why I fear you are not worthy to take my place, my little one, my blackhearted child. You have no imagination. You never reach for greatness.” Nestis smirked at her daughter.

“Mother! Why am I never able to please you? I have produced the most powerful witch in our line, and still you are not satisfied.” Manea’s eyes were bulging; her stringy black hair was mussed and stuck to her blanched face.

“No, I am not!” said Nestis, standing up. “I want the three most powerful witches. We will split them. Tomorrow.”

“Split them? What do you mean ‘split them’?”

“I mean exactly that. I will make one into three.” Nestis walked to her writing table and took out a piece of parchment.

“But that doesn’t make sense. If you split her power among three, then won’t they each be weaker and less powerful?”

“Not with my blood within their veins, they won’t. They will be the most powerful witches these lands have ever seen.” Nestis scribbled a hasty note and rang the small bell that hung on the wall above her fireplace mantel.

“She is already the most powerful! Please, Mother, don’t do this!” Manea was filled with dread at the idea of splitting her daughter. Maybe it was the word, split. It seemed dangerous, gruesome, violent. She wouldn’t have it. As she was trying to find the right argument, the right words to plead with her mother, one of her mother’s skeletal servants entered the room.

“Here, take this,” Nestis said. “Bring him to me at once.” With that, she dismissed the servant and turned her attention back to her daughter. Manea wondered what her mother meant, but was afraid to ask. “Their reign will be legendary. Don’t you see? There won’t be any need for succession after them. We can mold them in our image, teach them our traditions and our magic, and when it’s our time to pass into the mists, we will know our lands will be protected. Our magic will live on in them, leaving nothing to chance.”

“Mother, I’m begging you. Don’t do this to my daughter!”

“Trust me, my dear. Your little beastie will be safe, I promise you. No harm will come to her. And think how much happier you will be when you have three daughters to love and cherish. Think how favored we will be among our ancestors and the gods. There will be nothing and nowhere that won’t be within our command once they are born.”

“Mother! Do you mean to say you wish to extend our reign beyond the boundaries of the dead woods? No modern witch has ever crossed the boundary. And in return the living give us their dead. It has been so since before the recording of time,” said Manea, shocked her mother would even attempt such a thing.

“Do not presume to tell me our history, Daughter! I have discussed it with our ancestors, and I have been given permission to cross the boundary if we succeed in the making of three.”

“But this is folly, Mother! This flies in the face of our entire history, of everything we have been taught. I don’t believe the ancestors have agreed to this.”

“You dare question me?” Manea had never seen her mother so angry. She had never felt afraid of her mother before, and it was an odd sensation to want to cower before her. But before she could say anything, her mother’s expression changed and softened.

“This is my fault. I have given you the impression that your opinion is welcome. I have shared too much with you, my daughter, but never forget I am the queen here, and my word is paramount. Cross me again, and you will regret it. Do not invite my wrath.”

“Mother, please. Surely I should have a say in what happens to my own daughter?”

“No, my dear, you do not. Go now and be with your daughter. Treasure her as one, and I hope tomorrow you will be able to treasure her as three. Because she will be three, my dear, whether you want it or not. Now leave me before I become truly angry with you.”

Manea left her mother’s room and went up to the nursery, her eyes filled with tears and her heart filled with dread. Her daughter was sleeping soundly in the stone-carved bird’s nest nestled in the branches of a statue of a tree in the center of the room. She looked so snug, swaddled in her blankets. Gray stone ravens perched above her, looking down on the baby lovingly. The great altar at the far right of the room was covered with small paintings of the many queens who had once ruled the dead woods and who were now in the mists. Their ancestors.

Nestis was the only one who spoke with their ancestors, but Manea was in a panic. She had to know if her mother was telling her the truth. Something within her said she wasn’t. The same voice that had warned her that splitting her daughter would be disastrous guided her in this moment. She opened the wooden box on the altar and lit the candle inside with trembling hands. “Honored ancestors, please forgive me for disturbing you in the mists, but I am concerned about your plans for my daughter.”

An uncanny voice came out of the ether. A calming and reassuring woman’s voice.

“We are very pleased with the birth of your daughter, Manea.”

Manea hadn’t known what to expect, though this woman’s voice, this faceless ancestor, caught her off guard with how gentle and kind she sounded.

“But it is still too early to concern yourself with our plans for her. While your mother is still in power, our intentions and dreams are with her.”

“Then you’ve not given her permission to split my daughter in three?”

“She doesn’t need our permission to strengthen the line, Manea. You know this.”

“But she would need your permission if she wanted to extend our reign beyond the boundaries.”

“Beyond the boundaries? No witch since that of the First sought to rule outside the boundaries. What is this madness? Are you sure this is her plan?”

“She told me so just now. I don’t wish to betray her, but I am so worried.”


Tags: Serena Valentino Villains Fantasy