The Chronicles of Isabelle Clement

Chapter 1: 15 Years Later

A light, repetitive tapping roused Izzy one foggy autumn morning.  Blinking her Amber eyes open, she stared at the ceiling of her bedroom. She slowly sat up and rubbed at her eyes. Her silvery white hair now cascaded down her shoulders to the middle of her back. Currently, it was a knotted mass. The tapping sounded again, but this time more persistent and she sighed. After tossing her blanket aside, she clambered out of bed and marched across the creaking wooden floor boards of her bedroom. The window was frosted and sitting on the ledge was a small, expectant crow. 

He ruffled his feathers in annoyance, and tilted his head to the side. His beady black eyes told her “open the window, Izzy. It's freezing.” With a smile, she unlatched the window and carefully swing the glass panels out. The little bird lept back and once the windows were open he flew inside to perch on her shoulder. She smiled and ran a finger over the silky black feathers of his head. 

“Well, good morning, Silas. Where have you been.” The bird gave an indignant little caw. “Fine, I guess it isn't my business. Even though you are my familiar.” With a shake of her head, she scooped the bird off of her shoulder and set him on her bed. The bird watched her as she headed to her wardrobe. She paused. “Silas, turn around. You know better than to watch a lady while she changes.” Izzy could almost swear the bird shook his head before it turned with a little hop. She chuckled and started to find an outfit for the day. She wanted to look nice for her party. Even if it was just going to be her, her mother, and her father. 

Today was her twenty first birthday, but more importantly it was the day her mother was going to officially declare her a witch. She would also finally be able to learn how to perfect the potion her mother had crafted for her all those years ago. It repressed the demon side of her. It kept what her father described as “urges” suppressed and kept her horns and tail from growing. She looked just like a normal human aside from her hair and eyes and the silvery hue in her hair. No one in the village really cared though. They only cared if the person sported actual demonic markings. Then there was no telling what they would do. . . She shook her head at the thought. Today was a good day. She couldn't think about dark things today. 

She finally decided on simple a red gown. She dressed, and slid on her favorite pair of boots. They laced all the way up to her knees. They were perfect for hiking through the undergrowth. The thick leather protected her skin from twigs, and thorn bushes. She had a hunch she would need them today. Given that her mother always made her gather the ingredient for new spell work herself. When she was done with that, she tied her long, silvery hair back into a tight braid that snaked down her back. Satisfied with her appearance, she took the two sheathed daggers on her bedside table, and slide them into her boots. She always took them with her. After all. Asmodeus had helped her carve the demonic runes into them himself. 

When she was ready for the day, she found both her mother and father in the kitchen making breakfast together. Clara sang as she cooked eggs over the wood burning stove, and Asmodeus carved thick slices of sweet ham as he sat at the small wooden table. “It smells wonderful in here,” Izzy said as she slid into a chair. Her mother stopped singing, and turned to wrap an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. 

“Happy birthday, my little dove. Now-” She turned and dumped some scrambled eggs onto a plate before placing it in front of Izzy. “I know it's your birthday, but I have a couple errands for you. That is-” she grinned. “If you'd like to finish your witch's training.”

A bright smile split Izzy's plump, dusty rose lips. “Whatever I have to do, Momma.” 

“That's my girl,” Clara said with nothing but adoration for her daughter. She kissed Izzy on the top of her head, and then started making her own plate before she sat down across from her daughter. Asmodeus sat at the head of the table. “Now,” she pulled a slightly crumpled piece of paper out of her apron and handed it to her daughter. Izzy took it and began to steady her mother's looping cursive. “You're going to need Angelica root, and water from the spring.” Izzy nodded, but her mother wagged her finger. “Make sure it's from the waterfall. It's the cleanest. Now,” she pointed to the next word. “We have rosemary in the house. Strawberries and blueberries you’ll want for taste. You'll want those or else it will be inedible. You'll find those in the garden. Don't forget the mugwort and the mint. Also found in the garden. I keep most of this close to home. The water is what will be a hike.”

“And I have to get spring water because it's closer to Seraphine.” 

Clara smiled at her daughter, and her pride was obvious. “Good girl. Now, finish breakfast.” With another nod, Izzy dug into her eggs. She was excited to finally be a full fledged witch. Over the summer she had finished her Daemonia studies. She'd learned the basic structure of all demonic languages and excelled in the language of her father. Now, she was also going to be a witch just like her mother. How lucky was she to have two amazing bloodlines coursing through her veins? Two very different types of magic that went surprisingly well together were what made her. 

When she finished eating, she hugged both of her parents, and headed out the door. Silas followed, and planted himself on her shoulder as she shut the door. The early morning sun was bright, and was beginning to warm the early morning frost away. She covered her eyes with her hand to see that the trees overhead we're just starting to shed their colorful leaves. Gripping her basket which contained pouches for the ingredients, and a canteen for the water, she decided to head down the stone path to the garden first. It only made sense to do so, considering that the path lead all the way to the creek, and if she followed the creek closely it would drop her down to the spring. That was her plan for the morning. The spring was about a half hour hike. She would more than likely be home to help her mother start lunch. 

The garden was green and sprawling despite the frost covering it. Clara's garden survived all year long due to her “gifts.” Izzy possessed a lot of these gifts and then some due to her father's blood. The blood coursed strongly through her veins, and without the potion she was going to learn to make, the marking's would make themselves known. Izzy's hand traveled to her now pale, and smooth forehead. The last time she had seen the spiraling horns on her forehead she had only been six years old. Her father took a saw and sheared them off. It hurt, but thanks to the cream her mother had applied around them they hadn't hurt as much as she had thought. After this was done, she drank the thick, creamy potion her mother made. From then on, she was horn, and tail free. As long as she continued to drink the potion. Without it. . .she wouldn't be able to go into town. She would be chased out by pitchforks and torches. All of her friends would hate her. 

She shook her head to clear herself of such awful thoughts. That wouldn't happen. As long she kept her secret. She glanced at the bird on her shoulder and smiled. “I shouldn't be thinking of such dark things today.” The bird stuck his little wings out and gave a small caw, as if he were in agreement.

 The sun began to warm her face. She placed the basket on the ground, and began to gather and pick her ingredients. The greeny was fresh and vibrant green. She had to  be careful where she stepped due to how closely vegetables and other such goods were planted. The garden was sprawling, and covered most of the hill they lived on. There wasn't much yard for most of it was covered in garden. Her mother loved being as self reliant as possible. She only walked to town when absolutely necessary. 

When her basket was nearly brimming with ingredients, she gently plucked it from the Earth and slid it onto her arm. With the added weight, she carefully descended the stones that lead to the creek. The creek was thinking, and scraggly, but clear. You could see the small fish racing up and down stream, and sometimes a large trout. Izzy loved to study the creek as she walked to the spring. The path was worn from years of her and her parents taking trips to swim down in the spring. In fact, she could still see a fresh foot prints from a trip her parents had taken alone. Izzy giggled. For older people they still very much enjoyed each other's company. Izzy had never met a more loving couple. 

The sun broke through the canopy of leaves above her, and she sighed happily. The scents and sounds of the forest always comforted her. She couldn't imagine her life without those sounds. In fact, she didn't know how people lived in the village. She had been so happy when her parents had moved them here when she was a preteen. The days she spent rummaging through the woods and tearing her skirts on branches and twigs were much better than any day spent in the markets. 

Finally, the creek began to widen, and she could hear the rush of the waterfall. She picked up her skirts, and began to run. Silas cawed indignantly. He lifted his wings, and took flight off of her shoulder. He flew ahead of her, and a small giggle left her lips as she chased him through the woods. Her feet knew instinctively where to fall.  Not once did she trip on her way. Just around the bend, the waterfall came into view. The water was clear and inviting. Despite the chill still clinging to the air, Izzy set her basket on large, flat rock that hung over the edge of the small spring. She climbed on top of it, and stripped down to nothing. Her pale skin nearly reflected the sun. She let warmth of it kiss her skin, and whispered a small prayer of thanks to Seriphine. With a deep breath, she leapt off of the rock, and pulled her knees to her chest. The falling sensation made her feel giddy. When her body broke through the surface of the water, a loud splash echoed off of the cliff above her. A chill spread through her body on contact. Despite this, she let the water engulf her for several moments before swimming back up for air. When she opened her eyes and gasped for air, she laughed loudly and pushed her now ashy hair back. With a sigh, she floated on her back. Most people wouldn't enjoy the isolation in the mountains of Arriel, but it beat the city of Seriph. She enjoyed the bustling people and the many sights, but she did not enjoy the constant threat of discovery. She did not like keeping her eyes trained to the ground. She did not like feeling like a stranger. That's all she ever felt in the land of her mother's people. She always felt like she was different. Like maybe, just maybe, she was a monster.