Coven

Prologue

Prologue

Mesopotamia, City of Ur, 371 A.D.

Qadir stood defiant before the Council, awaiting their verdict. His floor-length black robe, belted at the waist, created a dark vortex amidst the white stone of the floor and walls. He felt no remorse for calling demons against his rival, Hamid, as they vied to be the Temple’s next High Priest. Through this display of power, he showed the Council command of the underworld and his affinity to their patron, the moon god Nanna-Sin, who decreed the fate of the dead.

The crowd waited in silence to witness the judgment. In the balcony above them was Qadir’s student, Amira. Strikingly beautiful with long black hair, her dark eyes watched her teacher’s bold display of rebellion against the Council. Amira was flanked by her three sisters of magic, Uzma, Iman, and Mina, born of the same purpose as she. Their presence comforted her as she worried for the fate of her teacher. Qadir had taught her to conjure demons and dark spirits, and she wondered if the Council would persecute her as well.

Uzma felt the worry in Amira’s energy field and held her hand, giving it a light squeeze to show her support. Mina and Iman beamed out a protective force field, encapsulating the four of them in light. They thought about how Amira must feel to have her teacher prosecuted before the community.

Qadir was always the most feared of temple priests by the citizens of Ur. His solitary habits cast suspicion on his activities; his dark aura accented by the deep lines on his face repelled most from wanting to be in his presence. Qadir’s energy gave him an imposing countenance rather than his physical height, which was just average. Since being assigned to instruct Amira in the dark arts, she was the only one who entered his chamber.

The sanctuary was an underground room dedicated to magic in all its forms. Ritual tools were displayed on shelves around the room, including daggers with blades of all lengths and handles made from pearl, onyx, obsidian, and brass. Wands imbedded with multitudes of gemstones adorned one table, while a large cauldron stood steaming in the center of the room. Smoking herbs and incense of all kinds were kept in a cabinet and used for spellcasting to conjure the desired spirits or to banish them. A large collection of magical spears and swords was securely housed in a locked case that stretched the length of the room. Books were everywhere, on shelves along the walls and strewn on tables, the tops of which were coated in the drippings of large candles, the room’s only source of light.

Amira marveled at the secrets held within the chamber, but Qadir limited her lessons to the nature of the dark spirits, not allowing her to touch the magical implements locked in the large case. She was in awe of him, and his cruelty during the lessons was accepted as part of the necessary path to understand the shadowy nature of the spirits she called. A sharp slap of a whip to her leg, when she mispronounced difficult words in a spell, was not uncommon; chaining her to a chair as she read was a regular occurrence. She trusted him to do what was necessary to make her a disciplined student, adept at her craft. Watching the gentle teaching methods of those who instructed Iman, Mina, and Uzma made Amira feel as though the others were soft and incapable of the power she could wield as a result of the pain and torment Qadir included in her lessons. It hardened her over time and made her feel superior to the others.

Mina noticed how Amira flinched at her own mistakes if Qadir was nearby. She was saddened by how he controlled Amira and scarred her lovely, pale skin. Thankful for the kindness of her teacher, Hala, she was always attentive when being instructed about the moon phases and spell correspondences. Mina dreamt of helping others with her knowledge in addition to the special purpose for which they trained. Together, they were the Triad Witches, born to protect the Scrolls of the Four Winds. Mina took pride in her task and drew happiness from the friendship she shared with her sisters. Although each was born of different parents, they felt a bond that rivaled that of any blood relation.

Now as they waited for the verdict, the bond was used to support Amira in her time of need. Of late, Iman, Uzma, and Mina had noticed Amira growing distant, withdrawn from their usual lively interactions, and they were concerned that she was taking on the murky energy exuded by Qadir. Amira stood erect, her muscles tense with fear of losing her teacher. He had taught her to obey him, and she would do as he commanded to please him. Only he had the strength to direct her.

The High Priest presiding over the Council spoke: “Qadir, for your crimes against a fellow priest and against the laws of the Temple, you should be excommunicated from our midst. Because the Watchers have selected you to educate Amira of the Triad Witches in a purpose that is essential to the welfare of all who live on this planet, we decree that you will continue to do so.”

Amira let out an audible breath. She had not realized that she stopped breathing when the High Priest began to speak.

“However,” the High Priest continued, “you are no longer eligible for an elevation in status within the temple nor within the community at large. Your duties are restricted to obligations dictated by The Watchers. No longer will you walk among the temple priests. No longer will you take meals with us. The exception to your solitude will be interactions with your student. Remove yourself from our presence.”

Qadir had not moved during the sentencing; his facial expression did not change. He said nothing as he turned and walked the stretch between onlookers, hands clasped casually behind his back. He did not look to either side. The Witches stood looking down from the balcony as he departed. Amira watched in amazement as his aura clouded over and grew darker than a moonless night. She understood the Council’s reluctance to go against The Watchers, yet they worried for Amira under the tutelage of one so evil and headstrong.

Iman hugged Amira to share her joy in retaining her teacher. She knew the bond they shared and felt Amira’s relief at his ability to continue her lessons. Iman was optimistic that whatever darkness Qadir exposed Amira to would be countered by her innate goodness and the support of her sisters. She believed that good would always triumph, so Iman focused on spreading light and happiness to all she came in contact with. Hope and faith were her weapons, and the hug she gave Amira was loaded with them.

Amira looked over Iman’s shoulder, watching Qadir walk from the room. She would give him some time, and then go to him. Part of her was pleased that she was his only human contact; part was anxious at the mood this would place him in. She pictured her blood running freely as he balanced his temper with the whip against her legs. Amira resolved to make sure her lessons were perfect, the recitation of complex spells performed without error. She would make him proud and forget about his intention to rise to power. She gave Iman an absent smile as she pushed her gently away. She did not take her eyes off the door Qadir exited and followed in the direction of his departure.

The others closed the gap left by Amira’s withdrawal, troubled by her strong affiliation to Qadir. They were aware of his abusive tactics and could not understand how a woman as strong and attractive as Amira could allow such treatment. She certainly did not tolerate it from any other man. If a male in the community even looked at her the wrong way, she unleashed a venomous attack that would make his energy shrivel to nothing. They had seen the results of her power and so had many of the town dwellers. Word had quickly spread among the men to avoid Amira and resist her allure. Qadir held her in some kind of a trance that the others had not been able to break. But they would keep trying.

Amira ran out of the building to catch up with Qadir, her earlier decision to give him some time gone by the wayside. He heard her approach but did not pause or turn to acknowledge her. She ran up to him, panting from the exertion, and adopted his pace as she walked beside him. No words were exchanged for several minutes as Qadir continued his steady pace, hands behind his back. Amira was content to be in his presence and waited for him to be ready to speak.

He stopped and turning to face Amira, backhanded her across the face, the smile that had begun to creep to her lips obliterated in one stroke. The attack knocked her backwards, and she landed hard on her coccyx bone sending waves of nausea and pain up her spine. She looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes, wondering what had prompted him to strike her. His evil glare kept her seated on the ground, fearing to rub her cheek where his hand had made contact with her jaw. Without a word, he walked away.

From the doorway of the temple, the Triad Witches stood aghast at Qadir’s assault on Amira. They approached her slowly, giving her time to gather her emotions. Iman and Uzma each took an arm to help her up. She did not look them in the eyes as she thanked them. She brushed herself off, wincing when she grazed the base of her spine.

Iman offered to heal the bruised areas, but the pain was not so much physical as emotional. Her injuries would worsen and become colorful by morning, but for now, she desired only to be alone with her aches. She again left the group behind to follow her teacher. It was a long walk to his chamber, and it would give her time to think of what she had done and how to make it up to him. When she arrived at the door to Qadir’s sanctuary, she hesitated before knocking. Her fist was raised to rap on the door, and before she could strike it, he commanded her to enter.

She stood silently before him, the spot where he struck her beginning to swell and bruise.

“I see your loyalty overcomes common sense,” he leered.

“My loyalty stands with you,” she said, head held high.

“Does it? Now that I am confined to interact only with you, does that give you some sense of superiority over me?”

“Not at all. I feel privileged to be your student and pleased that the relationship is allowed to continue.”

“My allegiance is to no one but myself. I do not need you or anyone else in order to wield my power,” he said.

“I understand that you stay with me out of obligation on behalf of The Watchers. I would not expect one as powerful as you to take interest in me otherwise.”

He eyed her up and down. She felt him embrace her curves with his eyes. It was uncomfortable for her to be viewed in such a way, more so than when he exacted his brutal punishments. Had she not been his student, his interest in her would have taken a much different form.

“You will be of use to me one way or the other.”

Amira waited for him to explain, relieved that his plans included her.

“There are other roads to power. Authority bestowed by the High Priest and Council of the temple pales in comparison to that which could be attained from the spirits.”

Amira listened, her body erect, ignoring the pain in her face and buttocks.

“I have a plan to obtain the most powerful magical tools in existence,” Qadir declared, pointing his forefinger to the sky.

“What can I do to help?”

“You will be the primary ingredient in acquiring what I seek.”

“What tools do you seek, Qadir?” asked Amira, intrigued by his enthusiasm.

“The Scrolls of the Four Winds.”