Fifty Years Later

SORSCHA

I t was the day after the Summer Solstice, and Sister Spring lounged with her Sister Winter and Sister Summer on the beach, basking in the glow of the sun, hot sand cradling them.

"We're getting old," Winnie hummed, looking at age spots beginning to show on her fair hands.

Seleste chuckled. " Good ."

"Agreed," Sorscha chimed. "I'm tired."

They'd had long, wondrous, fucked up lives.

A wriggling shadow moved across the sun, and Sorscha put her arm across her forehead, shielding her eyes to see what it was.

A raven she'd never seen before came to land on the shore, hopping toward them, little sprays of sand kicking up in its wake.

Winnie mumbled her curiosity, taking the note from the bird's leg. Her jaw went slack as she read, and Sorscha scrambled to snatch the letter from her.

She looked at Seleste in shock.

"What?" Sister Summer took it and read. "How? I thought we were the end."

A smile crawled across Winnie's face, and she leaned back, lying in the sand. "The new Sister Summer has been born," she mused. "The new protectresses of magic are nigh." She took Seleste's hand in hers, then Sorscha's in the other. "No, Sisters. We've only reached our end."