Seraphina

Ever since I was a little girl, I always knew this day would come. When I watched my mother lure a two-year old girl off into the woods while her mother was focusing too intently on getting her period stains out of her only dress. I was only ten years of age when I watched that poor human woman search the woods frantically for her missing daughter. I watched as her husband left her out of sheer hatred for losing his only child. I watched while she hung herself, choosing an eternity in hell as punishment for being so careless.

I knew there had to be a better way to create new mages. Mother whipped me mercilessly when I suggested we find alternative methods. I knew better than to express my disagreement going forward. “We do not question the ancient law,” she would lecture, “the ancient ways saved us from extinction. You will understand; when you are old, weary, and ready to pass your tome onto another. The bareness of your womb and your instincts will give you strength to do just as your mother, and my mother, and her mother before her.”

I disagreed and hated her for what she had done, for it made me realize that she had done the same to me. The woman known to me as ‘mother’ was not truly my mother, and I would never know the woman that birthed me. I would never know if she had loved me just as sister’s mother had loved her. Growing up I had one mission as this was the only thing that mother had instilled in me: protect the ancient laws, learn of their power and keep the mage race strong. Now I had a new mission: learn everything that mother had to teach and become strong enough to kill her. In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t take long. Mother had already spent the past four years helping me to reach my limits of the earth and water elements. It took another four years for me to master earth magic but once she introduced me to fire, it came naturally. My hatred for her that I had learned to bury deep inside my soul acted as an unlimited fuel source. After only a month, I had mastered fire. She was so proud of me, and didn’t hesitate to throw it into sister’s face. Now six years old, I could see the contempt within sister. Mother thought it was nothing more than sibling rivalry, but I knew better. I felt the same look on my face whenever I thought of mother and what she had done to us. Mother’s constant comparison made sister hate my very existence. She was amazing with her magic as well, being able to form weapons from ice at her age when I could barely form an ice cube. Still, it was never enough for mother. I couldn’t tell if it was blind adoration, or if she purposefully drove that wedge between sister and I.

Either way it wouldn’t matter much longer; mother’s time was fast approaching. While she would spend her hours off in the woods teaching sister, I would spend my hours practicing my magic. I sought out the most dangerous creatures of the forest, pushing my body to its limits. By the time I was able to take on a herd of elephants and an entire pack of tigers without breaking a sweat, I knew I was ready. The next time mother took sister out to train, I tore the cabin apart in search of her tome. She had taught me that a mage’s tome was the source of their power, that it contained all the knowledge of a mage’s coven passed down from generation to generation. After thoroughly ransacking and overturning every inch of our home, I gave up searching knowing that mother and sister would be home soon. I ran outside and waited patiently for their return. I would confront mother with or without sister’s help, and if she choose to stand in my way, then so be it.

Hours passed as I sat in the darkness until they both returned, walking slower than usual into the house. Sister screamed upon seeing the state of our home. “Mother!” she cried, “someone’s wrecked our house. Seri?” Sister yelled, “Seri, where are you?” At that, I stepped out of the darkness and stood at the edge of the woods that surrounded our home. “It’s alright child,” mother spoke calmly to sister. “The time has come for my final ritual. You stay in the house now, no matter what you hear or see.” I saw sister’s head nod through the window. Mother stepped outside and closed the front door behind her. “Where is it?” I demanded. Mother let out a horrible laugh, one that I never heard from her before. It was seething with bitterness and hatred. “You stupid, impetuous child,” mother spat. “Did you truly think that I would ever hand my tome over to you? Do you think that any mage is actually handed their tome?” That laughter cracked out through her once again. “I had to kill my mother for it, and she her sister. A mage’s tome is only so powerful because it is bathed in the blood of the mage that came before it once or sometimes twice a generation.” She reached into her cloak and pulled her tome out. “You’ll have to kill me for this, and sister will….”

A death rattle ripped from her throat as a blade of ice erupted from the middle of her chest. Mother hadn’t noticed sister opening the door behind her; nor had she realized that sister had found her own tome years ago. After I told sister of our true origins, she agreed to help me deal with mother. We had studied the tome together for years, which is why sister was so good at forming weapons of ice, and why I had my new special power. Sister walked around mother, unable to take the bloodied tome from her death grip, formed another ice sword and sliced mother’s hand clean off. Handing me the tome, I dragged my finger along mother’s severed hand leaving traces of lava along where I touched melting the hand into nothingness. As mother fell to her knees, I reached my hand forward and spewed lava from my fingertips covering her body and our former home. Kayla and I watched our past melt before our very eyes paving the way for our future.