Chapter 25

July 16th, 1674

My children are dead.

One by one, I discovered their lifeless bodies, each of them drained of magic, and had my heart ripped out.

My lovers are torn. Some prepare for war, yearning to avenge our children, while others want to wait and grieve our losses. I am tired of grieving. My tears have dried, and all I have left is the pit of anguish at my core.

I do not wish to take my lover's choices from them, but this battle is mine. I allowed this darkness to encroach upon our land for years, and as a result, my darling children paid the price. If I do not act now, the coven's future will truly be lost.

Memories I thought long forgotten plague my mind. Instances where I could have prevented these tragedies, had I only been more forceful. Been more willing to do what was needed. Yet instead, I remained under the misguided illusion that peaceful resolutions were possible. How disgustingly foolish of me.

My children's killer sought my fury, and by the goddess, he shall have it.

Morfran. The so-called sorcerer of Spells Hollow.

Every time I close my eyes, I see his wicked grin. The devious smile he wore as each of my children's bodies were carried away. Cries filled the air, but not from him. He simply stared into my broken heart and promised me it was only the beginning.

Our seer has predicted a blood moon tomorrow night, and Morfran has requested a meeting in the town square. I'm sure it is no coincidence. This is where he'll enact his plot, whatever that may be. He wants me standing at my most powerful before he attempts to bring me to my knees. But as I'm sure he knows, with my children gone and my lovers fighting amongst each other over our next steps, I am also at my most vulnerable.

This morning, I ordered the townspeople to flee. A few families, notably those with children, have taken their belongings, and now head for New Amsterdam. However, many are reluctant to abandon their homes. Though I wish they would reconsider, I do not blame them. Our families built these homes as a sanctuary from our oppressors. It feels so wrong for them to start over again, but hopefully they won't have to.

When the moon rises tonight, I shall traverse the catacombs beneath the town and reinforce the wards wherever I can. In the event of my death, they should ensure the safety of my witches. Or at least, delay the destruction long enough for them to escape.

My hand shakes as I write this. I fear not only for the coven, but for the generations to come. By murdering children, Morfran has made it clear that my generation of witches shall not be the only ones made to suffer. However, I swear I shall give my life before another soul is harmed by his darkness.

The Nightshade line may now end with me, but one way or another, I will ensure my coven lives on.