There were a number of different kinds of graveyards, ones that were made by the church of the light, ones that were for families, small ones that town made for those who couldn’t go to the church. Finally, there were the old graveyards, the ones the general population forgot about.
Temperance found her way to the graveyard, the information she was able to uncover was finding out that the graveyard was made hundreds of years ago. the plot of land had several thinly cut stones, the basic markers of those who had long come then gone were left with shallow writing. It was a quiet place. Temperance liked the way the wind sounded in this part of Drustvar. There was a muffled quality to the air and as she made her way past crumbling head stones she paused.
There was that tug she felt, one the Brutus had warned her about. Being so connected to the dead she felt like she could just reach out to the souls around her so she could speak. The names on the tombstones were difficult to read, and as she made her way through them she found herself looking for the name of her witchy ancestor. Constance Thornton.
Her grave, the grave of a known witch was under a bushy Hemlock tree. On the stone was the following words.
‘Constance Thornton, wife, mother, love outside of life and death’
“Your grandfather is a mushy man.”
Son’ispa spoke quietly but as if she was bored.
“I think it’s sweet. That romance beyond life and death.” In Temperance’s arms was a small bundle of flowers that she had gotten for the grave. Also inside her jacket was the letter Brutus had asked her to give to his late wife.
“You can think it’s sweet Ducky... It feels, weird. Sometimes things just have to end.”
Placing the flowers down Temperance tried to take some slow deep breaths. Brutus had tried to teach her the bare minimum of how to contact spirits around her. It took a long time, but slowly she felt something move closer. A spirit had noticed her.
“Well. Are you here to leave pretty flowers and bugger off or can you actually hear me?”
The voice had the same hollowness most of the dead had when they spoke to Temperance. As her eyes flew opened she turned to see and older woman dressed in a night gown. Her clothing looked much older than that of current fashion. Her hair was a light strawberry blond that was speckled with grey hair. She had a regal look to her, and once Temperance saw her, she knew why Brutus didn’t want his wife to leave him forever.
Stammering a bit Temperance bobbed a bit in a curtsy. “Sorry M’am.. I’m your grand daughter. Temperance Thornton. Your husband wanted to send you a letter.”
Her hard expression faded. “Brut... Of course, Please.” She gestured to a well used bench that she sat down upon. Looking eager at the promise of a letter. While she still had a look of a woman who had lived a long hard life, she seemed to have hope in her death.
The letter was half a long worded confession of love and devotion to her from a man a few hundred years dead. The other ghost’s eyes softened nodding at the mentions of inside jokes between them. Once or twice a strange phrase like ‘When the butter turned’ and ‘I got you some rice in case you forgot’. Little things that had put the other woman into a small fit of laughter.
It was the second part of the letter that was serious.
“I need to get serious Conny, the girl reading this is our last descendent. The rest of us are dead, gone, if she dies...” She paused looking at Constance. “I’ll never be able to write you again... You need to give her your spell book. She needs a fighting chance if we’re going to see each other. I know all of this sounds grim, but we’ve gone through rough seas before. Help me get us through this squawll”
Finishing the letter Temperance put it away and sat so she could see what Constance’s expression would be.
“What family doesn’t have it’s ups and downs?” Constance said in a dazed and utterly un-breathing way. Temperance could only guess what the woman was feeling and as her hand moved up to her hair, moving the frizzled curls with a shaking hand. “He wouldn’t lie... My sweet Brutus...”
Temperance winced a little. “My parents were killed by witch hunters when I was a baby... They spared me and put me in homes were I wouldn't.. you know.”
The ghost got up with an elegance and poise of a woman who had lived an internally regal life. Crossing over to the tree she started to look. “You need to learn fast. I’m not going to pester you yet for grandchildren...” She looked over her shoulder. “Just don’t die before having kids... I’m selfish and want to write my husband.”
Following Constance She tried to follow the ghost’s eyes until she came across a part of the tree that looked hallowed out. “The book? It’s in the tree?”
“Do you think I would let it rot in the ground?” She said with a small smile. “Cut your hand and lay it upon the tree, it will only open for my children.”
Scrambling a little Temperance pulled out a knife from her belt and cut her palm a bit. When she laid her hand on the tree she waited. Dread pooled, dread that had no purpose, but still she worried that she wasn’t a close enough family member for it to work. She might be able to speak to the dead, but that didn’t mean she was a witch.
It was like a revelation when a knot in the tree started to open. A gasp of air exhaled and let the locked contents breath for the first time in hundreds of years. Constance motioned for Temperance to take what she found.
There was only one item, wrapped in a linen cloth, there was a lot of care in it’s placement and Temperance could only guess Brutus or one of their children had placed the book in here. The book itself was of a brown leather, semi precious gems were inlaid on the cover. As Temperance touched them she felt something, but she couldn’t tell what.
“You really haven’t done this before have you darling?” Constance asked watching her too many great grandchild.
“I was raised around light fearing people... I didn’t know I was a witch until a few months ago.” She muttered it quietly looking up at the regal older woman. “I’m sorry if I’ve been a failure.”
“Hush.” Constance looked almost too focused as she moved past Temperance. “You start today, focus on he book, but be careful of the spells. I didn’t make it an easy book to learn from.”
Olivia had said the same. that if she doubted if she could pull a spell off, don’t do it.
“Smarter than us ending up dead.”
Temperance held the book close and looked at Constance. “Something is hunting me, it’s been killing all of the families I’ve been with... I don’t, I’m scared they’re forcing me out of Kul’Tiras.”
Retaking her seat on the bench the older ghost patted the seat again with a thin lipped expression. “A hunter is killing those you hold dear... That doesn’t bode well. Could it be the witch hunters here to finish what they started?”
Taking her seat Temperance shrugged. “I don’t think so. They left strange drawings on the walls.”
“Then it might be someone looking for you... Do you know the language?”
There was a strange stillness in her mind as Son’ispa just became quiet. Finally the voice spoke through Temperance.
“I don’t rememeber the symbols to know, we were young when we saw the first deaths...”
“We?” Constance stopped and looked at her, and this time she could really sense the old witch looking at her. “Interesting, well. You will need the wards that are in the book. You need a stronghold, somewhere to defend yourself. If they have you on the run, then you need to vanish and learn.”
The old woman was pacing more, and Temperance knew mentioning her hunter would add to the stress that her distant grandmother would fee. “What are your options? Where can you go? Are we still closed off from the world?”
“No... We’ve opened our boarders again, I plan on going to the Eastern Kingdoms. Maybe to Ironforge, just somewhere that won’t know about witches.” She said starting to pull on her hands as nerves bubbled up.
Constance waved a long finger. “Yes and no. You need to go somewhere with power, somewhere to gain more power. Stay here tonight, we are going to work through your options and we will find you a safe harbor.” Reaching out Temperance could feel the flicker of cold finger tips on her skin. “I won’t let the last of my grandchildren die alone.”
“Alright... forget anything I’ve said about this woman... she wants to keep us safe, lets take her advice.”
Temperance nodded her heart, for the first time swelled in hope. Finally someone she could probably learn from. Maybe with time she could fight back against their hunter, making a stand against it and find some peace in their life.
((Mentions: @olivia-lovecraft))
