Chapter 29

1655

The coven is gone.

In the days since the Sorcerer took our beloved priestess in a wicked blast of dark magic that razed all but the most protected corners of Spells Hollow, the families of our Priestess's consorts have had the most devastating and deadly of curses fall upon them.

I came upon Levina Torann crying over the corpse of her brother, Donahue, consort to the high priestess. His once handsome features were warped and burned. I am ashamed to admit I hurried on with my chores while the sounds of the lady's grief echoed through my bones.

The cows have lost their milk, and the chickens refuse to lay. The talk of the very land having absorbed the curse was incessant.

The first families left under the cover of darkness, the moon bearing witness as they slunk away from the home our mothers made a safe haven for all.

Safe haven no more.

Those who have not yet succumbed to the curse have fled in hopes of escaping its devastating reach.

We who are cursed… there is no escape. I know this in my core, but still I write this in hopes that future generations may bear witness to the words laid down by our priestess and know that we lived and loved.

The sorcerer took our future, and I believe sealed his own fate at the same time.

You who read this know that no curse can withstand the strength of love.

We will endure.

We shall return.