Fate’s Joke

AUTUMN SEPTEMBER 25, 1692 The faint smell of lavender wafted through the cabin as the fireplace crackled. Its soft flames, casting a warm, golden glow across Guinevere Frost’s face as she worked the final stitches of the tiny sweater she had been making for months. The cozy cabin room she had once shared with her lover, Phillip was a far cry from the sanctuary it once was. The wooden flooring of the room that had seen better days, and creaked with each step she made, was littered with bits and strings of grey yarn. The big yarn of wool by the foot of her chair, was a tangled and knotted mess of grey. Philip’s clothes were piled on the bed, as she could sleep without them and dry herbs were strewn all over the place. Tying the string of the sweater twice to ensure it wouldn’t unravel, she held it up. The firelight danced across its surface, highlighting every mistake she had made. It truly looked like the work of an amateur. The loops were loose and uneven, made worst by the rough, unscoured yarn she used, yet, a satisfied smile spread across her face as she imagined her child snuggled up in it, protected from the cold the worn out blankets would not keep out. Nothing had brought her so much joy in the past months than untangling the mess and knots in her yarn and learning to knit with it. Not even wielding magic! Smiling, she rubbed her protruded belly satisfied with her handiwork. For the first time since she lost her dearest Philip, Guinevere Frost thought about him without shedding a tear. She just wished he had lived long enough to witness their child’s birth; and maybe a few more years to watch him grow. Grinning at fond memories, she chuckled at the thought of the hideously large hat Philip had gotten her that did nothing to stop her skin from getting tanned when she worked in the garden and the scowl on his face each time he grumbled about her ruining her fair hands with dirt. Holding the sweater close to her heart, she sighed. She would raise their child in his place, and teach him all the things he needed to know. But first, she had to start taking care of herself. She had neglected herself for far too long. Philip would never want her to live like this. Drawing her attention away from the ridiculously crooked but beautiful work that drew out memories she had tried so hard to suppress, Gwen placed it in a small box by the foot of the bed, and retrieved an onyx stone that helped her stay grounded. It was Philip’s. Waddling into the kitchen, she rubbed her sore back sighing over and over again. She had so much to do. She needed to make a soothing portion to help with her sore back, a few good luck charms—not that she believed in them, they failed Philip and something to strengthen her health. Oh! She also needed to strengthen her protection barrier. Sighing as her mind kept drifting off, Gwen instinctively sought out the onyx stone in her waist pocket, it’s familiar texture offering her a fleeting sense of calm. The sound of boiling water in the small kitchen, jolted her out of her thoughts. Putting down the mortar containing a mixture of delicate flower petals she had begun to grind at some point. She decided to bring out the materials she needed to strengthen her protection barriers before settling down for tea. Some crystals, her trusty wand and some banishing salt would do. ~***~ “Ahhhhh!!!” Gwen’s scream echoed through the cabin when another contraction ripped through her, tearing up her insides. Worn out, as her contractions had become more frequent she teetered on the brink of madness. The pain luring her into a dark abyss. Grabbing the windowsill, she gasped for breath. “A ritual... a small ritual ought to help”. She muttered incoherently. Taking deep breaths, Gwen waddled into her garden. Muttering a few inaudible words as she casted a protective circle around herself. The wind rose, swirling gently around her. With the last bits of her sanity that were still intact, she tried to draw strength from the moon, her voice barely above a whisper. "I am she who is called nature." She took a deep breath. "Born from her. One with her. From the moon ..." “Ahhhhh!!!” Yet another contraction shredded her insides breaking the last bits of her strength. Broken, loneliness chipped at the edges of her fragile walls of protection. Its tendrils slipped in through every pore on her skin. Spreading cold sensations around her heavily clothed back and chest, till it spread to her heart, squeezing it tightly till each new minute became more miserable than the last as thoughts of her beloved filled her with longing. He had been so young when he was taken away from her. Vulnerable, her mind journeyed back to what had been—The chiming of her laughter perfectly entwined with his musical voice, the love plays under the moonlight, his possessiveness and the time they spent together in comfortable silence. Filled with bittersweet emotions, she caressed the onyx stone in her waist pocket, it’s familiar texture calming her. Philip was gone but their child needed to born safely. Without help, she would probably die with their child in her. "I am she who is called nature." She shouted. Her voice stronger than the last time she tried to draw strength from the moon. The wind swirling gently around her once more. "Born from her." She lifted up her hands. Taking a proper look at the night sky, she saw red! It was a night of the full moon—the perfect time for endings! “The Fates!” She swore, everything suddenly making sense to her. The scrying mirror! The future she had seen! The full moon! It had been so perfect. Her heart felt cold like the night air sending shivers down her spine. Its tender bits frozen in anger, as madness wrapped itself around her like a newborn's swaddling. Her bloodline was ancient, and so were the gifts it brought her. Her gifts were not without a price. That she knew! But, the loss was too heavy a price to pay! She had been wronged. What she had so strongly fought for, and given up everything for, was cruelly taken away from her. Yet, she held on to him, the child inside of her, the life they made together, the only reminder of what had been, till she looked. No! She hadn't looked in the scrying mirror. More than using her gifts to pry into an uncertain future, she had been more vested in living and nursing the life they had made together. It had been lying there, on the shelf with her crystals, wands, pots of herbs, and tools. All she had wanted was a crystal to help strengthen her fragile protection barriers. She hadn't intended to look. The mirror had fallen right into her hands when she reached for her wand, and she saw bizarre things. She hadn't understood, but now she knew. It was her child’s future. That man was her child. Strange? Yes. But he definitely bore her bloodline. She saw the salvation he would bring. He would give life to those who had hurt her the most. The Fates had wanted her to see, but she wouldn't let things go their way. The future could be easily manipulated. This, her gifts had taught her. She would defy fate. She would dance to the beautiful drums playing in her head and listen to their alluring voice. She would take him along with her. Together, they would sink into darkness where no one could hurt her again. There she could be with her beloved again. “My dearest Philip surely cannot wait anymore to meet us” She smiled rubbing her belly, a crazed look in her eyes. Looking at the full moon that shone brightly in the sky, Gwen smiled, filled with incredible strength. Knowing she was pressed for time, she began. The midnight mark was essential to unlock chaos. She reached into the small sack she had prepared to aid his birth, and brought out two black candles. Not to ward off negativity, but, as a door to welcome it. Casting a circle with salt, she lit the black candles and muttered a few words she had once found in the books her ancestors had written and placed them at two points on the circle to act as a door. "My blood, its blood" She cut her wrist with a ritual knife, leaving a trail of blood on the floor of her garden as she walked into the circle. She felt it before she saw it! Cold air wrapped itself around her body like a second skin, and fog darker than the night arose from the trail of her blood lapping it up as it made its way towards her, killing all the herbs in its path. Slithering through her legs, it curled itself around her legs like snakes, hissing loudly, yet whispering seductively in a thousand voices urging her to go over the edge. Letting the madness guide her, she dropped her blood on Philip’s Onyx stone and it glowed lightly. "This life I made and mine to take..." Her trembling voice echoed through the eerie night. The seductive whispers, now loud hummings. "...his life I nursed, and mine to stop." The black fog slithered away from her legs and morphed into an Owl. Ready to devour, it hovered over the circle. "...his life I stop and by so his fate. As I will, so...ahhhhhhh!" The bloodied gemstone glowed again and pain shot through her, stopping her words halfway. She felt the life inside her kick, and she saw what was to be again. This time, she needed no mirror! She saw him, the child inside of her, and the sheer joy he had brought them. She saw his future and the life he would live. She saw the beauty of his life, the joy and sheer happiness of it, and then his sorrows, and her heart clenched terribly. She wept yet again. This time for Philip—her beloved, the decision fate had taken, and for the life of the child inside her she would not live to witness for what she had done. Taking him with her was not the answer. Making her look had been a test. Looking at the full moon, she smiled ironically at why she had been so sure that there would be endings. It would be the end for her, but, for the child inside her, it was a new beginning. Sadly, she would not be there to teach him, as she had already made her choice, but she wouldn't make his destiny any easier. "That which I have said in anger I take back" The gemstone glowed intensely and power whipped through her like the wind that suddenly sent her blonde hair flying, tossing the owl out of the circle by the sudden gush of pure energy that coursed through her, her eyes glowing a fiery yellow. Letting out a high-pitched screech, the owl turned back to fog and charged at her licking the edges of the barrier of salt but could not get through. "I hadn't fully welcomed you!" she hissed at the darkness that licked the edges of the barrier of salt. She was still strong. Strong enough to cast one last proper spell. "The life in me, I brought not alone, and not mine to take. My life I give that he might live. Upon the fifth circle of life, my cause shall be met with justice." A blinding light erupted from the circle accompanied by a heart-wrenching screech that seized as abruptly as it had started. He would live, but it wouldn't be easy for him. Smiling bitterly, she pushed hard, and let darkness take her.