
Deirdre and Boyd Eileen are Nymphs on the run from the Salem Academy. An academy that "collects" special "prizes". They have to find the Old Souls that once were the most powerful witches and warlocks. They can only survive with the help of the Old Souls.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Fantasy/Drama - Words: 598 - Published: 07-29-09 - id: 2703142
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Preface
The sacrificial words were uttered from her mouth as she felt and heard rather than saw all of the chaos that was going on around her. After all, she was blind, and there was no need to see to know exactly what was going on. Not seeing had ended up being a bigger help than she would've given credit for. Her whole life she had wanted to see the world, see the sunlight rather than feel it on her skin, and see what everything looked like. Now, not seeing was a better advantage than being able to see.
It was Samhain, and there needed to be a sacrifice to please the Lord of the Underworld. With power like the one she was going to gain, there was nothing that could hurt her, and she would be able to protect herself from the wars that were to come because of the so called nymphs.
The chaos was actually the sounds of her family celebrating Samhain. Too busy with the party, no one would notice what she was doing. The man that was closest to her was drunk and he was a mortal. There was a stupid grin on his face as he tried to pull on her dress. With just the slightest twitch of her finger the man on the ground burst into flames. No one bothered to do anything about the burning man, even though he was crying out for help. Everyone in this party was a witch or warlock anyways, there were no peace-loving wiccans, or pathetically stupid mortals, well, there weren't mortals anymore. The few that were brought here were only there to be the sacrifices.
A cold mist passed over her and she could almost picture everything that was going on. The ghosts and spirits of her ancestors dancing with the living. On Samhain the barrier between the Underworld and the living was thin, and her family had summoned all of the family's spirits from three hundred years ago till now. She could feel the press of a spirit as it danced around her and moved on to the next person.
"You sure have grown, Catharina. You really are quite beautiful."
She turned towards the voice that had spoken to her, and knew right away that it was a spirit. It was the spirit of her sister, Schena. She had been dead for over three years now.
"You just saw me last Samhain, dear sister." Catharina replied, making sure not to show any emotion on her face. Ever since Schena had died, whenever she was brought back for Samhain, she would pester everyone and ruin the fun. But most of all, she tried to find fault in Catharina. Schena was five years older than Catharina, she was twenty when she died, and now Catharina was eighteen.
"I noticed you were up to something," Schena said, flicking imaginary dust off of her dress.
"Nothing, just praying to the gods for such a wonderful Samhain!" Catharina kept her voice light, joking maybe even.
Schena's eyes narrowed and she said, "Hm, fine with me. I think I might go dance with the other spirits." She floated right through Catharina, leaving her with the chilled feeling everyone gets after a spirit goes through you.
The night was cold and Catharina moved closer to the gigantic bonfire that was set up in the middle of the field. She could feel the crisp air go past her and she breathed in the smoky smell of burning wood. It was good to be living in 1612...
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