WOLF’S BANE AKA TEEN WOLF DR
✦ fragments ii: the bind & the oak ✦
while casters are bound to chaos , they are not to be confused as allies to it.
they do not swear themselves to wolves , or hunters , or spirits — yet always , inevitably , they are drawn into their wars.
as i said , chaos touches all things. so neutrality is a caster’s greatest weapon. making them both trusted . . . and feared.
but even light casters are not safe.
to channel too much , to bend chaos too far — is to invite corruption. every spell is a negotiation with the void.
no matter the hand , light or dark , chaos leaves its mark.
this is the unspoken truth of the channeler. one they can never escape.
it is more than beacon — it is alive.
approach it, and the bark breathes.
visions crawl behind the eyes.
it does not speak in words , but it warns. it tempts. and it guides.
the magnolia blossoms across town act as its omens . . .
when darkness stirs , petals curl & blacken , crumbling like burned paper.
when balance is restored , they bloom impossibly bright , blossoms lingering even through the frost months.
though no magnolia should survive the west coast. still , they thrive — conduits of power , fed by the oak’s veins. ❞
long ago , my family bound the nogitsune within this oak , its spirit locked inside a jar hidden in the grove.
but even bound , it called to every supernatural thing. seeking to be set free.
this is what casters call an agent of chaos.
they are not human , not creature — but spirit. older than memory.
gods to some , demons to others.
they cannot be destroyed , only trapped , banished , bargained with.
anchors hold them still. the magnolia oak is one such anchor.
and to channel power at the oak is to summon chaos a hundredfold.
for generations , my family has kept vigil at the oak . . .
our oath is simple: should it fall , the veil will thin —
and what is trapped within chaos will no longer remain bound.
but what happens when the young prodigal witch — sworn to guard the oak — becomes too entangled with a pack ?
what happens when loyalty to them outweighs the vow of her bloodline ?
when the only way to keep her wolves safe is to break the seal and release the greater threat still bound within the oak’s hollow heart ?
when the whispers in the bark grow louder.
and the blossoms begin to blacken.
the town will hold its breath.
as it waits for its beloved — the trickster’s kiss of death.
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