The curse of Aelia

"In the hum of the night I come

At the Rune Stone, to join my Coven I chant

Lumine Sororis! Aperi Ianuam."

The portal opens on the mountain rock before me. Torrential rain falls, the biting wind hurls raindrops that slice against my face, each sharp and swift, like tiny razors. The elementals seem to be protesting. My magic swirls within, a creature recoiling from unseen threats.

Girding myself, I inhale the cold, damp air and stride through the enchanted doorway. In seconds, I am walking through a long corridor. I’m purposely early so I can walk around and gather my thoughts. Slowly, I make my way to the main hall for the Coven Conclave.

The Lumine Coven is one of the keepers of the veiled world — spirits, elementals, and the very source of creativity that binds our reality. All energy and magic flow from it.We maintain the balance.

For half a century, Humans have waged war spreading famine and death. They've scarred vast portions of their side, disrupting the veiled world. I believe in helping and guiding them — many among my kin are less sympathetic, their memories shadowed by our tortuous past. The ones against it claim that it isn't our duty to intervene in human affairs. But how can we not? Even if they remain oblivious to the invisible, their fates are irrevocably intertwined with ours. Aelia is the whole realm, both sides.

However, what concerns me the most is the looming undercurrent that I am sensing. I received visions from the Goddess, alerting me to danger. Our magics are flickering — even if many refuse to admit it, leaving us vulnerable. Amidst external hazards, our community also quarrels.

Covens, Elves and Fairies, are rife with discord. The Leadership is entangled in its own disputes. And justifiably, our people are restless, their faith is shaken.

As if we haven’t enough going on, the seemingly dormant Ogres have awakened. After two centuries of the peace treaty, they've launched organized raids, stealing supplies from our outposts. The disquieting part is that they aren’t known to be orderly creatures.

The forewarnings were there, subtle but present. I tried to tell the Leadership. Only a handful listened. It's an uphill battle convincing those blinded by complacency. My bond with our Goddess has always been a double-edged sword. It offers me foresight, but also causes suspicion. Thus, I keep them to myself, at least until I have more evidence. Yet a year has passed, and I am no closer to answers.

Arriving at Aster Hall, I realize its beauty never ceases to amaze me: the gleaming yellow marble floor — etched with a golden sphere, the intricate mosaics detailing our rich history, portraits of past sisters, and the symbols of our legacy. The ivy-draped columns reach up to a magnificent skylight and below the most beautiful statue of our Goddess. Further away, a waterfall cascades, making splashing sounds. This place has always been a sanctuary for my spirit, yet tonight, it feels unsettling.

Surveying the space, I see familiar faces. Each standing at their spot in the grand circle. I walk to mine and wait. Twelve are here, one still to arrive — Carmen. A palpable silence stretches out until the soft patter of footsteps breaks it. She strides in from the south entrance, her gaze locking onto mine, with an insufferably smug expression. I suppress a sigh. We are about to begin.

"Sororis Lumen Sumus" Jasmine — our High Witch, chants loudly.

"Lumine Sororis” we chant back.

"Welcome sisters. May Aelia's grace shine on each of you.” Jasmine greets us. "It has been a few moons since our last Conclave. As you know, we are facing difficult times, strange times. While human wars are not new, the one they wage now is unique in its devastation. The North lies barren. Spirits and elementals are withering. We must decide our stand in this."

“The friction within our own is weakening us. The Ogres are striking again, with newfound organization. They've drawn elvish and witching blood. As representatives of witchkind, it falls upon us to guide and protect our kin. Our divisions must end. Tonight, we chart our course, so I may present a united front at the Leadership Council. For those who wish to manifest their thoughts, the floor is open." Jasmine ends her speech — indicating the center of our formation.

Yanira steps forward. “Good evening sisters, may Aelia watch over you”.

"We cannot ignore the Human conflict any longer. Half a century has gone by. Their Kings must be given an ultimatum — or be replaced by force, if necessary. Our shields might guard our side, but can't safeguard the balance. Our world also teeters on the brink. I’ve been offering aid, doing what I can to alleviate their situation. If we do nothing, we risk not only their lives but the whole land.”

"The Ogres have forsaken our treaties. I fear these assaults are part of something more treacherous. They must be held accountable!” — Yanira gracefully retreats to her place.

Without hesitation, Carmen advances. “Good evening sisters.” She begins — a trace of disdain lingers in her voice. "While I commend Yanira's compassion, let us not forget: humans shaped their fate. They must resolve their feud. If their leaders falter, let the masses rise. It's not our place to intervene."

Khalia's voice cuts through the tense air "They're powerless against their tyrant kings!"

Carmen responds, her tone dripping with contempt, "Sister, please remember the rules of our Conclave. I haven't ceded the floor." She pauses to give Khalia a pointed look.

"Now, as I was stating, our Codex doesn’t mention Humans. Therefore they're not our duty. And as for the Ogres? Mere brutish creatures flexing their muscles. They must be bored. Testing their limits. It's a minor infraction, hardly a declaration of war. A warning will suffice.” She steps back with a self-satisfied smirk that rattles my core.

I take a step forward. “Good evening sisters, may Aelia watch over you.”

"While the Codex may not explicitly bind us to Humans, it unequivocally tasks us with the guardianship of the land, which is intimately tied with their fate.”

"If we turn a blind eye, watching their lands burn, how can we uphold loyalty to our sacred oaths? The realm was whole when the Codex was written. By forsaking them, we forsake our duty. Those who oppose intervention, what is your solution? What about the disturbance of the balance?

I take a deep breath before adding, "Your denial, or to call it out — your outright indifference, is astonishing to me." I spit the last words in anger. "Also, to diminish the coordinated Ogre attacks as 'minor'? Dismissing the death of two elves and the injury of many? It is not just an isolated incident. It’s a harbinger. Our prolonged peace has led us into dangerous complacency.” KEEP YOUR COMPOSURE NALIA, I remind myself.

"I propose a scarlet vote”. I announce. Murmurs and incredulous looks ruffle the room, but Carmen's smirk remained undeterred. The scarlet vote, a measure so rarely invoked, it's almost mythical.

It removes a sister from the Coven. Once proposed, it can’t be taken back. Drastic times call for drastic measures.

The High Witch speaks, her voice cutting through the whispers "Very well. We shall proceed with the vote." Her eyes meet mine, and beneath her serene demeanor, I glimpse a hint of approval.

That was a gamble. A significant one. But we need change. One less denier in the Coven could tilt the scale. And my hopes are pinned on Carmen’s removal.

The High Witch initiates “One by one, voice aloud the name of the one you wish expelled. Starting from the left.." Her voice falters, her eyes widening. "Carmen, you can't break the circle! We're about to cast our votes!" — raising her voice in alarm as she sees the witch stepping backward. My gaze follows hers, latching onto Carmen. Everything seems to move in slow motion.

There is a pulsing glow from where Carmen once stood, and then, a sudden burst of raw, unbridled energy rips through the hall, tearing the air. I hear a deafening boom sending shockwaves in every direction — making the floor tremble. Before I can react, the power propels me against a wall. Pain erupts at the back of my head, and darkness consumes my vision.

When I recover consciousness, Jasmine’s hands are on my shoulders, shaking me. Everything feels distant, surreal. The once glorious hall was now a blazing inferno, flames licking the ancient stones, the ground fissured as if struck by lightning. Pushing past the ache, I stagger to my feet.

“We must stop the fire!” Jasmine's voice echoes above the chaos. I nod dizzily.

"nolite ignem. nolite ignem. nolite ignem.” I join in, the rhythm of our words weaving a spell against the fire. We continue until, finally, the fire is tamed. As the smoke clears, the aftermath becomes hauntingly clear. A scene of utter destruction in front of me. Several of the sisters lay motionless, their robes charred. Others moan in agony.

I am grasping for reason. I didn’t see this coming. How could I? Carmen has always been troublesome, but betrayal?

What in the Goddess' name is happening?