Friday, December 14th, 2018 — Journal of Helena Grimaldi
The day has finally come. The one that has excited and terrified me to my core since I was a little girl, still so unsure about my place within all of this. Honestly, I can’t say that I am always sure even now but I am devoted. I know that I have been training all my existence for this very moment, but I believed it wouldn’t be for at least a few more years to come and then suddenly it was time. Am I ready? Am I strong enough to go through all this? Even with the fellow witches backing us up, it was my mother that was supposed to be leading the charge instead of me. My father’s High Priestess and she fit the role with more grace than I will ever be capable of. If all goes well tonight, her death will be one step closer to the retribution that I’ve watched my father hold inside for so long. I, too, have held much more than I’m sure anyone my age should bare. Mighty Hecate, Goddess of the Witches, please bless me with the power to succeed tonight. We need this, my father desperately needs this. Yet, I am still left to wonder about what—
A gentle tapping echoed through her cozy attic room and was followed by a groan from her door, slender fingertips releasing her pen before looking up to see her father in the doorway. No words came, just a nod of his head and the young witch knew it was time to leave. The two had more than enough preparation to do before they could actually begin and both wanted to arrive before the fellow witches filed in to help. She quickly closed her journal, grabbed for her coat and backpack, then proceed behind him down the hall. A car would be taking them tonight, although Helena preferred to bike the four miles with the cold wind, but protocols were in full effect. They couldn’t risk these final moments for anything and they were briskly swept into the vehicle as if they had never touched the street. An illusion. No trace could be linked back to them, acting as fragments and apparitions with each advance until they were safely in the Ouroboros Headquarters.
Susannah met them in the entryway as Helena took her and Anton’s jacket, listening intently to the phoenix give an update on what was still left to be done. It seemed as though they were much further along than Anton had originally planned, a bittersweet emotion crawling up Helena’s throat at the idea of it only being moments away. Change, a quality that the young witch was used to when it came to their work, but even the build up of her personal power mattered and she drew in a long breath. This would be the true test of her taking on a different focus within her dark magic abilities and not just relying on sacrificial offerings, but also maneuvering the spirits gallantly into their new homes— two beautifully engraved daggers.
Once Susannah was just out of earshot, she tugged on the loose sleeve of her father and did her best to remain poise. “I know you explained it already,” sapphire’s hastily looking to him, just a child behind a thin layer of courage and entrusting in the bigger picture he had painted, “It’s just that, what if the side effects are more extreme than we have prepared for.”
Hadn’t she lost more than enough and the burden on the innocent lives that seemed to keep stacking up still felt imprisoning. Was this really the path that her own mother would have approved of? Snippets of her voice cracking as Helena continued, “Please promise me that you won’t push yourself too far.”
Stoic and undaunted, yet Anton’s eyes flashed praise and Helena wondered if he had just seen flecks of Tillie in her expression, “Hells. Our family, our organization has been moving towards this goal for centuries. Everyone has sacrificed so much in order to get here and now, the risks we have all taken. All that time we have been preparing— trust in your ancestors, trust in me.”
She nodded instantly at the angelic quality to his speech, finding herself unusually captivated and self-assured once more, “I’m ready.”
They entered the library and Helena almost couldn’t recognize the display. All the usual tables and chairs had been moved out, giving it a haunting and barren look. Books that had once littered the floors had also made their way into proper shelving and revealed more of the wood flooring, showing clearly the start of a salt ring. Other witches had begun to energize the room, lemongrass and rosemary smoke hitting her in the face as she moved towards the center. She touched the pages of the grimoire and peered over the spell, not as though she really needed a refresher but she muttered to herself anyway. Every phrase would need to be spoken clearly, yet another risk and chance for anything to go completely wrong. Within moments, the room lights dimmed and the hearth became the main source of luster. Another deep breath, body guiding itself into place while her mind composed and collected. One last invocation before looking to her father, eyes steady and resolute.
Anton’s voice boomed in the previously silent room, the loudest noises being that of the fireplace and shifting feet in the circle around them, followed by Helena linking hands with her father. Beads of sweat had already pooled around her crown before the hard part had started, a hooded Susannah bringing the items when the incantation had suggested it was time. Hair pricked at her neck and started to burn, insides pierced and jabbed, orbs of light billowing and seething in flocks above them. She had been warned of the violence this would cause, so much more than her night with Kasey in the mausoleum, but this was excruciating. Power surged through to the point of collapsing and her hand gripped Anton’s ferociously. This was it— their final words. Everything in the room trembled when the spirits abruptly frenzied down and disappeared into the daggers, taking all the wickedness with them.
Claire let out a small yawn. It was still early in the morning and normally she would be in bed, but both her dogs wanted to go out for a walk. She didn’t grab any gloves and her hands started to feel the chill of the cold morning. “Alright!” she called to Artemis and Apollo, “Let’s go back home.” Both dogs perked up and ran to her side. Without fail Apollo slipped as he ran and tumbled toward her. Claire couldn’t help, but laugh. She hurried down the streets wanting to get back into her warm house.
Having an animal such as a cat was still a new experience to the dark witch, but she would admit that it was growing on her. Ever since Kasey had brought the stray to her, albeit after having to protest to her father why the creature should stay, it felt as though it was a whole different kind of responsibility within her life. The two had started working up a habit of roaming the street if the weather permitted. Sapphire hues noticed the blonde only to feel the air of a Davenport, minding connecting the dots within an instant before her hand raised for a wave.
Cyrus had been almost certain that she’d found him just to tell him that she’d been sent to make sure he stayed out of trouble while Anton and Susannah were gone. He’d been ready to make it a fight, to force her to use her magic to stop him. The single worded plea stopped him completely, his eyebrows up as he tried to readjust his expectations. A viciously playful grin spread across his lips at her explanation. He nodded his head, “Right…” He lifted a finger, telling her to wait. He left the room for a moment before he came back and tossed a short red dress at her. “Change into that. I think it should fit.” he said with a shrug. He didn’t wait to argue with her, she’d either change or he’d go read a book in the corner. But he went to grab his coat and thick gloves.
The dark witch had known it was a stretch to try and ask Cyrus, but if anyone could make the night worthwhile it was the basilisk. His expression changed from vicious to intrigued before leaving the room, leaving her wonder if he would take this as some kind of ploy. That’s when the scarlet fibers flashed before her eyes, reflexes snapping to catch the item being spoken of and a sly grin emerged onto Helena’s lips. Overconfidence flooded her insides before proceeding upstairs to her room, “I’ll be back in ten.” It had a vampire quality about it, bits of lace with a low front and exposed back. Slipping into a mask for a night wouldn’t be too hard for her, especially now that she’s had practice.
“Really?” She asked, annoyed. One night out in a blood rain downpour didn’t make them friends. Being caught at an outdoor concert completely by coincidence didn’t make them friends. “Do you work a second shift job or are you in college? Either way it sounds miserable.”
“And it is,” followed by a mini pouted lip because she was starting to see she might not win this one. Maybe the dark witch was barking up the wrong tree on this one, but so many others had already turned her down, “Which is why I need a night out.”
Ghost was so lost here. He knew for her to be talking to him about this, she had to be desperate. Not that he wasn’t great company – he was, if he said so himself –, he just wasn’t a big party guy, and it seemed to be what she wanted. “I mean, I’m–…” he meant to let her down easy, but the thought of letting a girl her size and age go out alone was enough to make him pause. He may not love what she was, but he was a decent man on good days, he wasn’t about to let one of his own get into trouble. “What do you have in mind?”
A hopeful spark fluttered around Helena’s insides and it showed in the rosy flush of her cheeks, “Out, out of this home and nowhere usual.” In all honesty, the young witch didn’t have much of a plan other than she couldn't keep looking at the walls of her Midtown home. She was never opposed to a night in after long hours of training, but this was different. “I’m sure there is something lively going on, maybe a small concert or Broadway show?”
“That sounds about right. Everyone uses that excuse. If anyone here is allergic, well, they can just leave.” Kasey set the cat down on the ground, who rubbed against both of their legs before moseying off to find somewhere to sleep. “Lizards? That sounds bloody boring.”
The young witch shrugged and gave Kasey a warm grin, “It’s not so bad. I love my little baby’s and so do my plants.” She bent forward to pet the cat before it began to explore, “Guess we probably need supplies.”
“Oh I will,” Laurel smirked. “I don’t hate this idea at all,” she grinned. “Of course you do,” Laurel jokingly groaned. “Can’t just enjoy peace and silence with your booze. When people start spouting bullshit and how their opinion if right really just kills any buzz you’d had managed to get between words,” she teased.
As usual, Laurel left the young witch laughing, shaking her head and placing a hand up to her face, “You really are the most difficult woman and I commend that.” Another drink hit the table and Helena moved it between her fingers, “But you can’t tell me that you don’t like a good conversation with someone that actually has brains.”
It was practically a motherly impression felt for the Grimaldi girl, a near elated smile nestling into what was considered a more terminally gelid countenance. The light that eclipsed Helena’s hues was leveled with any dangerous adrenaline rush they could ever go through, proud in her decision to have invited her over anyone else. “Perfect, darling,” her smile grew, brows risen as if unsure of where to head to, “Any cravings?”
“I think the only good thing we will find this late at night is Veselka,” fingers gripping her bag before popping it open to check how much cash her father had leaned her. As much traffic as the restaurant had now gotten, with being featured on every foodie corner known to man, it felt too homely to give up, “Can’t beat a bit of Ukrainian cuisine.”
Rising from her seat, Ruby gave a nod and strode across her small space and around the room divider that separated it from the rest of the shop. Grabbing two water bottles from the little cooler under the coffee maker in the sitting area, she smiled a little as she heard the question. This was the other great part about her job, talking shop about magic when she got clients that were also into it. Every so often someone would gush over a crystal on her desk or talk about the Frey and it made her feel a little warm inside. Included, involved in some way. It was a different fuzzy feeling than talking about art, something that ran bone deep and made a home there for a few hours. “Thank you very much.” Making her way back and sitting back on her chair, she handed one of the bottle to Helena before cracked the cap on her own. “I do. Water and earth were my first things and they’ve stuck with me, as you can probably tell by the crap ton of florals.” She gave a soft laugh and took a sip from her water before nodding towards the other witch. “What about you?”
Maybe it had been Helena’s affiliation with air that made it so much more difficult for her to master something such as ink. It was yet another reason why blood magic was always a subject she had to practice often or risk losing the ability all together. She was powerful, no doubt, but hardly perfect. Even someone such as herself could recognize that and admire it in others. “Air and earth have always been more natural,” she cracked open the bottle and took a sip. Earth was business related while air was for fun, playing with sound absorption and raising the dead. Not quite something the dark witch felt comfortable sharing with the fellow witch just yet, even if Ruby seemed completely harmless. “Paper being my strong suit when it comes to organic magic,” a gentle head nod and a small chuckle, “Maybe you can teach me how to keep my tropical plants thriving for longer. Can’t ever get my orchids to rebloom.”
jacobvanloon
ellievsbear
stormborns
dededos
2087
blakekathryn
tangentwithtanner
