The Last Druid’s Reckoning

Journey Through Moonlight

Seraphina had never known true suffering until she was forced to help prepare dinner. If preparing breakfast that morning had been a disaster, then dinner was a catastrophe that would be spoken of for generations to come, likely as a cautionary tale rather than a fond memory.

"You are chopping, not committing murder," the head cook scolded, snatching the knife from Seraphina’s grip before she could further mangle the unfortunate turnips.

Elena, determined to restore order, had been tasked with stirring the stew. This turned out to be a terrible mistake, as stirring should have been a simple task but for reasons unknown, she had managed to ignite an argument with the stew itself.

"It’s too thick!" Elena protested, glaring into the pot like it had personally wronged her.

"It is meant to be thick!" the head cook countered, hands on hips.

"It looks like mortar!"

"Because you keep adding flour!" , "Revina, leave the greens aside for your sister to finish and come help Elena make this edible". Elena, offended, opened her mouth to protest, before seeing Cook's expression, then closed it again like a fish.

Jungo, meanwhile, had been demoted to peeling potatoes after his attempt to levitate the trays had ended in one near death experience and an unfortunate dent in the ceiling.

"This is child’s work," Jungo muttered, peeling at an offensively slow pace.

"Then why are you still failing at it?" Seraphina pointed out.

In the end, dinner was salvaged through sheer determination and divine intervention, and Seraphina left the kitchen with far less dignity than she entered.

She had no time to dwell on the disgrace, after dinner service was done, Saraphina freshened herself and made her way down to the Moon Hall, located off the center of the Coven.

As she stepped onto the cobblestone path, she caught sight of Elena and Jungo by the riverside, both already entangled in practicing their elemental control.

Elena, under the watchful eye of an older water-witch, was attempting to master offensive and defensive weaving, her movements precise, her fingers shaping streams as though they were threads on a loom. With a flick of her wrist, the water surged upward, taking the shape of serpentine coils swirling around her in a controlled dance.

"Hold the tension," her instructor urged. "Weaving water is not just movement, it is balance."

Elena’s brow furrowed, shifting her stance, her voice muttering spells beneath her breath. The streams obeyed, forming thin, slicing ribbons, cutting through the air like the edges of a blade.

"She was improving", Seraphina' thought, "Soon she will be ready to receive her ancestors Grimoire" as was tradition when witches and wizards came of age and had full control of their elements.

Druids didn't have Grimoire passed on from their ancestors, they instead received their Druid markings on their forehead. Once they become of age, they are no longer novices. Seraphina' couldn't wait to start her journey as an Accepted Apprentice in her chosen Order. Those who do well in their Order become Elders of their Covens. Though many choose to leave the Coven and roam the land for adventure or become advisors to rulers across Eldara. In some rare cases Druids with the light element are blessed to see the threads of time and tell of future events yet to come, those Sages are respected and hunted equally, their powers are both a gift and a curse.

Seraphina caught herself from tripping over a loose cobblestone. She regained balance glaring at it, she moved her hand to weave, calling on the earth to pull the loose stone back into place. Her skip of triumph was cut short when she heard Jungo exclamation from the river side.

"Well, he is definitely not improving", she thought with a giggle. His father was observing him in stern silence, arms crossed as poor Jungo struggled spectacularly to shape air into daggers.

"Focus," Elder Franco instructed.

Jungo focused, or at least, he attempted to, had for a brief moment summoned shimmering air, as he tried curling it into something vaguely sharp before immediately collapsing into a puff of breeze.

"I swear I had it!" Jungo protested.

"No, you did not," Elder Franco replied dryly.

Seraphina bit back a laugh, continuing toward the hall. As she reached the trees that surrounded the last of the cobblestone path, She caught glimpses of the warriors in the training field ahead, the senior instructors commanding them with sharp orders.

"Formation—NOW!" Marvin’s voice echoed across the clearing as the warriors adjusted instantly, their movements disciplined, their magic flaring.

Seraphina sighed, watching them move with unwavering coordination. She wondered "when would I be ready to stand among them?" The thought weighed on her as she approached the great oak doors of Moon Hall.

She paused, tracing the intricate carvings that marked the entrance, stories woven into the wood, depictions of moons in their various cycles, symbols of nature and forgotten gods. She exhaled slowly, pushing them open.

As they opened, the doors started reflecting the outside light, with an ethereal glow and silver threads of light, as if dusk and moonlight had been carved into the very grain.

Inside, the hall was bathed in an eternal twilight, the light never fully leaving, never fully rising. The ceiling shimmered with twinkling stars, their silverlight cutting through the pinkish glow of dusk. Magic embedded into its structure, creating the illusion of an endless ethereal sky adorned with puffy clouds. The walls held veils of deep blue, the fabric seeming to shift like the tides, whispering through the chamber as if murmuring secrets from beyond time. It made Seraphina' feel as if she was walking into a gateway dream that can take her to endless worlds.

At the end of the hall, Seraphina' saw her mother. Standing beside a wooden table draped in light blue cloth, waiting. Seraphina swallowed, stepping forward, knowing exactly why she was here.

She had to control her magic. And this time, she had to be better.