Imagine a little world...
Far different from ours, yet at the same time so similar...
In here magic isn't something you're born with...
It isn't something you can learn...
It isn't something you can steal...
It isn't something you can borrow...
In here magic is a sacred duty and a responsibility, wrapped as a gift that does not come for free.
There's a little village in this world. Right in the skirt of a tall, tall, mountain.
In this little village lies a chapel for a god who does not have a name...
Every year in this exact date the townsfolk big and small bring the kids who are 6, no less, no more.
The kids dressed in their best clothes hug their parents as they're escorted to the basement of the chapel.
There's a little red door lying unguarded in the basement of the chapel.
There's was never need for guards as no one wants to go in.
And it doesn't want to come out...
And even if you wanted to, only a kid could fit through the door, and only a kid could open said door.
Each kid writes their name with red ink and put the paper inside little envelopes who are then given a golden seal.
Green envelopes for the boys and yellow for the girls...
One by one each kid slides their envelopes underneath the little red door, and after the last kid has slid their envelope, they wait.
Soon after... a little yellow envelope comes out from underneath the door.
The seal has clearly been broken.
An old hooded priest grabs the envelope, opening it up to reveal its contents. The paper has clearly been folded with care.
Little tears start flowing from the little lass green eyes, but before her little legs can even flinch to start sprinting with all her might two hooded figures grab her, lifting her up and pulling her close to the little red door.
"He's calling to you..." One of the bishops says...
Not only with her ears, but with her flesh, with her bones and even under her eyes.
She slowly walks towards the door...
She opens it and walks inside.
There's a tall, tall figure there.
Illuminated only by a single candlelight.
She has never seen "him" before in her life, but somehow she feels like she has known him her whole life and even the ones before...
The candle blows itself out.
6 hours, 6 minutes with exactly 6 seconds pass, and from the other side of the door three weak knocks can be heard.
The door opens all by itself and out walks the little girl...
There's two little nubs where her arms should be, each one has fresh scars that refuse to bleed, the scars have been patiently and carefully sewn with love and little red string...
She'll make a fine witch someday...
And the little red door at the bottom of the chapel closes itself for another year...
prguitarman
origamiaround
areudirty
yousharknotpass
tangentwithtanner
vaporwave
blakekathryn