Daughter of the Ancients | Katie

Tuesday, October 31, 1922
Samhain
9:00 PM

"Before the Romans invaded our island," Julia said quietly, her wand illuminating the candles that sat in a wide circle before them, "our people were open practitioners of magic and worked in communion with nature." She took her daughter by the hand, leading her to the center of the circle where she pulled her hood back, allowing her brown hair to fall over her shoulders.

“Our people were revered as seers, holy men, healers, and keepers of the veil between this world and the next. We weren't relegated to the outskirts of society due to fear or ignorance."

From the bag she wore at her shoulder, Julia retrieved a small knife, her travel apothecary and a spool of thin black silk thread. Setting them on the old table she'd summoned for the occasion, she smiled at her daughter. "Your grandmother and all the mothers and aunts before her kept our people's practices alive through the centuries, knowing there's no such thing as 'dark magic' or 'light'."

She tapped the table twice with her index finger, indicating for Kathryn to place the pair of starlings she'd found earlier that morning on the table while she set about arranging things. It was a rare night away from Jude - Julia having finally given into Maddox's suggestions of an occasional bottle.

Samhain - or Halloween as it was now known in Anglo society - was the night when the veil between worlds fell thinnest, perfect to amplify rituals of blood magic and necromancy. Her daughter had been collecting corpses for far too long now, and while Julia took no issue with harmless curiosity, it was becoming a problem when they began to decay, especially with a rambunctious toddler and curious infant around.

"Eventually my love," Julia said, picking up one of the dead starlings to inspect it carefully, "we'll need to find a way for you to manage these rituals on your own, but for now, we'll do them together." Kate would need to overcome her refusal to speak, at least in these matters, unless they could find another avenue for her.

Surely, she wasn't the first mute witch to exist.

The bird's bodily integrity was fine, no outward flaws that she could see at the moment. As the forest trees brushed with the night breeze above them, she took a quick glance at the other before deciding both would work well.

"Necromancy has many interpretations, but tonight, I'm going to show you how to preserve and reanimate, so that we're not just collecting rot." She beckoned for her daughter to hold out her hands. When she did, Julia placed one of the birds gently in her hands, indicating for her to cradle it.

"Life and death go hand in hand, and to revere one, we must respect the other. You'll need to understand that what we do tonight is not about domination." Her fingers came beneath Kathryn's wrists, correcting the position with gentle tenderness. "Hold it gently darling, not like a possession. This starling is your guest."

The night was a treat.

While the little girl was often loathe to break with her schedules and routines, it took very little for her to make the exception on this occasion. An hour before curfew, she typically sat in a corner of her common room, reviewing the day's lessons. For some, it may have been a light means of winding down from the day. For her, it may as well have been etched in stone. There weren't many things that could remove her from that well-worn armchair with the scratch along its back leg.

Her mother helping her with a ritual could.

There was no Jude. When Julia had suggested they head into the forest on Halloween night, Kathryn's anticipation had been tempered by the knowledge that, outside of classes, the baby was seldom seen out of her mother's arms. She didn't want to spend the night in the forest with them both and had been rather sullen for that fact.

Then she met the woman in her private quarters and...Jude...wasn't there.

Evander wasn't there.

The only person that waited was her mother with the materials they would need and the peace that came with the realisation that, just for that night, she wouldn't have to share her with anyone else.

Kathryn watched her mother light the candles, accustomed to her proficiency with a wand, while remaining indifferent to the idea of gaining that proficiency for herself. Mr. Maddox had warned that she might fail her classes if she kept it up, despite how well her theory kept her grades above water. 100%. 0%. They weren't so different for her. Abstract scratches on paper, usually in red, never changing a thing. Whether she got 100% on a worksheet or essay or 0% when told it was time to demonstrate what she'd learned, the little girl still woke promptly at 5:30AM. She still had breakfast at 7AM; classes until lunch; too many people she was meant to acknowledge as siblings, and a boy who thought she needed to hear of his every triumph and sheep-related anecdote.

She listened attentively to all her mother explained about the witches who came before them. Her family, not theirs. Kathryn didn't suppose she knew much about the Cuddruns. Had they ever been good at any of this? Had they ever tried? Was their entire legacy a glass bottle of bitter juice and silent consumption of radio programmes?

"Eventually my love, we'll need to find a way for you to manage these rituals on your own, but for now, we'll do them together."

Someday, she supposed. But not tonight. Kathryn saw no issue in spending some time alone with her mother, watching her work and having her lend her expertise to what would otherwise amount to little more than curiosity without an engine to propel it forward.

"Necromancy has many interpretations, but tonight, I'm going to show you how to preserve and reanimate, so that we're not just collecting rot."

Her expression brightened. It wasn't by a degree most people would notice – not helped along by the darkness that enveloped them – but enough for someone as attuned and perceptive as her mother to notice. Over the years, Kathryn had found many fine specimens, but with time, they all inevitably rotted, and then she was ordered to remove them from the castle. More often, her mother vanished them herself, leaving the girl in silent turmoil.

Kate extended both gloved hands, receiving the little starling she'd diligently scoured the grounds for earlier. She'd found a lovely pair and was pleased to know they wouldn't meet the same fate as everything else.

"Hold it gently darling, not like a possession. This starling is your guest."

She looked up at her mother with bewildered blue eyes. Were they not her possessions? She had found them, and they belonged to no one else, not even themselves. Death claimed them now and her, their second owner.

Guests, her mother had said while the milky-eyed bird stared off into eternity, none the wiser that she held his entire frame between her fingers.

Her head cocked to the side, awaiting an explanation.

The little head cock had Julia breaking into a smile. There were always small tells with Kathryn that her mother had learned to read with time. Sadness, fear, excitement, happiness, satisfaction, anxiousness. In this case it was curiosity, Julia's greatest friend and adversary, now read in the eyes of the daughter she led into the secret world she had been raised in.

It was a rite of passage in many ways, a mother passing on her knowledge of the old ways to the daughter that wouldn't learn to fear the 'darkness' but embrace it as a natural balance to the 'light'.

"We always respect the dead when we borrow from what remains. Nothing is owed to us, not even by bones. They're not ours simply because they can't tell us 'no'." While the vessels Kathryn experimented with would hardly resist, and would only be a memory of what they once were, it didn't mean they as witches didn't revere what had been and what had been sacrificed to allow them to have their rituals in the first place.

With Kathryn's hands in the correct position, there was something almost heartbreakingly young in her, standing inside the circle, her face shadowed by the forest above them. This brilliant child who had come to her with the unfair burden of trauma laced in her features and a curiosity for death in her pockets now looked at Julia expectantly.

Some mothers taught their daughters how to sew, host dinners and smile prettily through offense.

Julia Barlowe, apparently, taught hers how to return a bird from the edge of decomposition.

"Now," she said softly, "necromancy - death magic - lies in the give and take of life. To return something from death, you must offer it life." She picked up the small knife and dug the tip of the blade into her index finger. "Blood is memory and power. It's the lifeforce of all living things. Blood is evidence that something was alive, that it mattered." When a trickle of red streamed down her finger, Julia leaned over Kathryn, drawing a circle across the held starling's breast, a line down the center, then two branching marks that could be interpreted as veins.

"All blood must be given willingly. It does not have to be yours, but you can't force or take anyone's without their consent," she said softly, rubbing her index finger against her thumb to stop the sting, "But with your blood, your rituals will always be more powerful and potent."

Julia indicated for Kathryn to lie the starling back on the table beside the other. Uncorking a vial of ash, she handed it to her daughter, indicated for her to sprinkle a small bit over the bird's blood-painted breast. "This ash comes from Yew trees, which we often plant in graveyards. It's especially good for death magic and resurrection."

She nodded for Kathryn to go ahead, as she placed her hand gently on Kathryn's shoulder for support.

"We always respect the dead when we borrow from what remains."

Borrow?

Kathryn didn't consider any part of the process to be 'borrowing'. For such a thing to be true, one first needed the intention of returning whatever they had in their possession. While she was always eventually forced to relinquish whatever she'd found, it was never her intent. Death had already claimed them once, so nothing could take them from her a second time. Well, she supposed decay still could, but that was their reason for being in the forest that night, wasn't it? They would finally solve the problem of the girl having to relinquish the things she tried to treasure. To imply that she was only borrowing would be to imply that even after that problem had been solved, she would still be made to let go.

"Nothing is owed to us, not even by bones. They're not ours simply because they can't tell us 'no'."

It was another thing that didn't make sense.

It seemed to her that that was the way the world worked. Others had the power of bending reality and altering ownership by virtue of not being denied. They'd told her she wasn't a Cuddrun anymore because she hadn't been able to refuse. They told her she was the daughter of Eleanor and George Longe, the daughter they'd always had and had spent some time raising in Sicily because 'no' wasn't an option provided for her. On that Sunday afternoon, at The Goring, ownership of her had been transferred from her mother to her mother because Julia said so rather than because of any request or refusal on her part.

The Laurences owned all their horses, claiming them without question. The horses had never told them that they wanted to be possessed, yet such was the way of the world. She couldn't understand why it should be any different now when it became her time to irrevocably lay claim to something.

The starling was hers, she decided quietly. It was hers; they both were until someone took them.

With that settled, she listened to the rest of the explanation. Blood. For whatever reason, the mention of it had made Avery pale. The boy had giggled about an eye inside a jar that looked back at its owner but shrivelled at the thought of something with the power to make possible what nature told her was beyond her capabilities. She didn't withdraw; she didn't flinch. Kathryn watched with silent reverence as her mother transferred her own blood to the starling.

Blood must be given freely.

The idea didn't strike her with any particular revelation, not because she'd had any preconceived ideas of morality around the subject but because the little girl had never been inclined to share her interests with others – certainly not to any degree that would welcome their participation, willing or otherwise.

When instructed, she placed the starling gently on the table before scooping a bit of ash. A small amount, just enough to dust over the bird's breasts.

Satisfied, she craned her head slightly to look up at her mother, waiting patiently for the next step in ensuring these birds never had to return to the earth.

"Good job," she praised the girl, smiling at her with approval when the starling's breast was properly ashed.

People often underestimated children and their ability to handle the older, darker ways of magic. Raised within and taught respect for the rituals and all that went into them, children were remarkably accepting and adaptable to the practices. Made to understand their origin and the naturalness of such things, there was no reason to fear them or dread unsavory outcomes, because there weren't any. Done correctly and with reverence, the results were the same every time.

Julia knew that her daughter was a different sort of child. Not just in her mutism, habits or adherence to strict schedules that no other eleven year old seemed to care about, but in the things that fueled her curiosity. Julia had never shied away from it or tried to discourage Kathryn, instead deciding that if her daughter wanted knowledge and understanding, then she would have it.

The markings on the bird sunk into its feathers, dragging the blood and ash with it before vanishing. "Now, we bind and call back the echo. Never the soul. What has moved on should be allowed to move on. We never want to drag the dead screaming back through the veil for our own amusement."

She tied a piece of the black silk around the base of the starling's leg, and then with the next strand, tied it around Kathryn's pinky finger. "The thread ensures the starling knows it answers to you. If it were your blood we used, that bond would be unbreakable except by you. Since it has my blood," Julia raised an eyebrow, "I can break the bond as needed."

In the case a dead starling decided to become a menace around the house.

"Hold the bird, love," she instructed, and held her wand over the bird's breast. "These are sometimes called 'inferi' in the modern world, but that gives it a bit of an unsavory feel." She concentrated, a deep purple light pulsing from the end of her wand into the bird. Her eyes glanced up at Kathryn. "When you have control of your magic, you're never to perform this in front of anyone. Do you understand me?"

The last thing she wanted was her daughter crucified for using what ignorant wizards called 'evil'. There was nothing evil or harmful about it, but there was no changing minds that didn't want to be changed.

As Julia's spell flickered out, the birds wings fluttered suddenly, the starling hopping to its feet in Kathryn's hands. Its tiny eyes peered up at the girl as it gave a small chirp.

Julia smiled. "Well? Do you like him?" If not, they could discard the other corpse that still awaited them.

Kathryn watched the ash and blood seep into the bird, understanding that it meant whatever ritual was taking shape. It was, officially, the furthest she and her mother had ever gone with anything she'd ever taken back to the woman. It caused her stomach to flutter and had the nerves beneath her skin prickling. Another child may have been able to recognise the excitement for what it was, but the little girl experienced it as a disruption within her body. It was distracting and made it just a little harder for her to focus on her mother's words.

"Now, we bind and call back the echo. Never the soul. What has moved on should be allowed to move on. We never want to drag the dead screaming back through the veil for our own amusement."

Never the soul.

Kicking and screaming. Did they all kick and scream? Were there none who would have been happier returning to this side of the...the 'veil' as her mother had called it? Kathryn had always wondered whether the dead knew they were dead and whether it ever terrified them. Could they see themselves, mangled and decomposing? Did they know the care others offered in laying them to rest? Why was it not a second chance at life? Surely, a bird that had once taken pleasure in soaring through the sky, singing melodies and splashing in the springs, might want to feel the warm sun against its wings again.

Her mother didn't make it sound that way. Her mother made it sound more like a punishment to have to live once they had already died.

Kathryn extended her fingers, spacing them to allow her mother to tie the thread.

"The thread ensures the starling knows it answers to you. If it were your blood we used, that bond would be unbreakable except by you. Since it has my blood, I can break the bond as needed."

She didn't know if she liked that.

Her whole life had been a series of others being able to take the things she cared about the moment it suited them. If she could break the bond 'as needed', the starling's existence depended on the whims and decisions of her mother, rather than any desires she may have independently held. It was then that Kathryn resolved that the next bird would be bound by her own blood. That one would be hers in all the ways her mother said it couldn't be, and she would not let it be taken away.

"These are sometimes called 'inferi' in the modern world, but that gives it a bit of an unsavory feel." Kathryn watched the pulsing purple light. ""When you have control of your magic, you're never to perform this in front of anyone. Do you understand me?"

Did she?

Kathryn decided that she didn't. She shook her head once, blue eyes boring into honey brown. They were filled with the many questions that now filled her, but none of them passed her lips, none but one word that slipped out unbidden.

"Secret?"

The first year had been learning a great deal about secrets of late.

Her attention was drawn from her mother when the bird chirped. Its feathers were still loose and its limbs filled with rot, but its eyes were no longer milky. They looked up at her as if anticipating something. Was it waiting for her? Did it expect something of her?

"Well? Do you like him?"

She stared at the bird, filled with something she couldn't understand. It wasn't quite...warm...it was more a feeling of being...too full and yet...hungry. It chirped again, filling the quiet of the clearing with sounds that had already left the world. After a moment, she nodded.

Yes, she did think she liked it, even if it wasn't fully hers.

A soft shake of the girl's head. She didn't understand, and how could she? Kathryn hadn't yet been exposed to the more complicated politics and prejudices that surrounded certain practices, and the ignorance that fueled them. Was she old enough to hear it? Julia supposed if she were old enough to witness such magic, then certainly -

"Secret?"

The meekness in her daughter's voice caught the woman by surprise, having only heard it once before. Her expression softened as quickly as her heart melted, a warm smile lifting the corners of her mouth as she reminded herself not to make a bigger deal of it. The sound tugged at something within her. Something so simple, that so many took for granted, hearing their child's voice. Julia would give anything to be able to hear Kathryn's, day in and day out.

But she would treasure the small moments her daughter gave her.

"Secret," she answered softly, the lump in her throat making it difficult for her to speak any louder. "There are other wizards and witches out there that believe this is an abomination. Evil. They'll hurt you if they know." Simple answers for simple questions. "Our family is safe with this secret, but no one else." She looked at Kathryn intently, ensuring she understood the seriousness of it all.

It was the same her grandmother and aunts had taught her. Magic in the dark and shadows, hidden from eyes that would cast judgment. Behavior expected from muggles, certainly, their ways having always been about hunting and murdering those who were different than them. It had been a strange thing to realize her own kind could be the same. Azkaban was one consequence that loomed over those who practiced certain aspects of the old ways. Suspension of magical use was another. A removal of one's innate abilities seemed especially cruel.

With any luck, if her brother won the Minister seat, wand registry would be a thing of the past, as would condemnation of natural practices.

She smiled again when Kathryn nodded, her eyes watching the starling with what Julia could only surmise as awe. Perhaps there was something else beneath it, but without her daughter saying - or writing - so, she could only guess. "Good, he'll serve as a good friend to you. Now," Julia held out her hand and gave a little click of her tongue. With a small flutter, the starling left Katie's hand and settled on her own.

"Let's do the next one. You perform the ceremony. I'll give blood and the charm when you're ready." She draped a finger across the revived starling's head, noting where the bird lacked in patches of feathers and its body remained lame. With a few hours, and a little transfiguration, the bird would look nearly as alive as it had just a day ago.

"Secret," her mother confirmed.

Secret.

Growing up, the little girl had never been much for secrets, not at first. She'd happily told Benny about her day and happily told her friends about Benny. Her teachers hadn't always asked, but when they did, she'd never had qualms about explaining the little quirks her parents both possessed. Even when she'd stopped talking, it hadn't been because she had any deep secrets she felt needed guarding or any profound thoughts she felt were better left to reside in her heart. There were no secrets at the orphanage and no secrets with the Longe's. She supposed her first secret might have been between her and Mr. Cavendish. That one hadn't lasted beyond that day, though she'd never been able to figure out how everyone else had known. The only secret that remained was the one she held with Mr. Maddox.

Under no circumstances was she meant to let her mother know that she had long since abandoned her dorm for the sanctuary of the man's private quarters. It hadn't been explicitly called a secret, not this time. It was more of an understanding that her mother would immediately end the arrangement and her reluctance to have such a thing happen when the end result would feel so untenable to the 11-year-old.

Now, it seemed she'd found a new secret—her third one. This one seemed to serve the same purpose as the second; it prevented the sort of outcome that she wanted no part in. That someone would want to hurt her for her simple interest wasn't so foreign to her. In the past, they'd done so for less.

"Our family is safe with this secret, but no one else."

No one else.

Did that include Avery? The boy was inquisitive to a fault and had already seen a corpse or two. He always side-eyed her a little harder after and was always a little more clipped, but it never lasted for long. She didn't think he would hurt her but would defer to her mother on the matter.

Kathryn was less inclined to do so with the bird.

Something terrible pinched at her heart when it abandoned her palm for her mother's. If it were her friend, it shouldn't be listening to the whims of her mother. The next one certainly wouldn't.

"You perform the ceremony. I'll give blood and the charm when you're ready."

It wasn't necessary. She would supply her own blood and prevent herself from the internal discomfort that stirred at the sight of the bird flitting away. Blood was important. Her mother had said so. It seemed only right that this one would possess her blood if she truly wanted to make it hers and not a clone of the one that her mother could beckon. For that reason, rather than waiting for the woman, Kathryn reached for the knife. She paused, grimacing down at the glove she would have to remove. There was no choice, was there? Not unless she wanted to relinquish this one, too.

With a soft breath inhaled, she pulled gently at the tips of her glove, tugging a little more forcefully as it moved to expose her palm. Kathryn observed her newly uncovered hand highlighted by beams of moonlight breaking through the canopy. Whatever damage done, she reasoned, could be undone by a flick of her mother's wand. She pricked the tip of her index finger with only the faintest flinch.

Without wasting a moment on sentiment, she drew a circle across the new starling's breast, a line down the centre, then two branching marks the way she'd seen Julia do.

She pinched her thumb and index finger together to stymy the bleeding while she replaced the starling on the table.

Next came the ash. Kathryn sprinkled it lightly over the blooded breast of the bird, just enough to dust it.

She worked diligently, meticulous with each step. It wasn't the same as practised precision but a carefulness that followed the girl into everything she did. The little girl tied a piece of the black silk around the base of the starling's leg. The next, she tied around her pinky to replace the one that had been there before. Replacing had been practical, certainly, but she'd always wanted to minimise the risk of the bird being confused about who it belonged to.

Satisfied, she lifted the bird and waited for her mother to cast the spell, understanding that there was nothing she could do. Hopefully, she'd already done enough to avoid the undesired outcome of the first.

Julia held back her smile as Kathryn tugged one of her gloves off her hand. It was exactly what she had hoped for, when she'd explained that the starling would still answer to someone else without the girl's blood. Her daughter was the type that needed structure and guidance, rules and direction. But beneath that was a headstrong little girl - as much as her older brother - who held tightly to things she stubbornly felt were hers.

She had found the starlings, so they were hers. Julia could tell by the way her daughter had decided to cut her own finger, that it was an immoveable truth that Kathryn wouldn't see altered if she could help. Julia had slyly put the little bug in her ear with the explanation, and the results were every bit as predictable as they were satisfying.

She remained quiet, watching with pride as the girl went about the ritual, exactly the way Julia had shown her, from the symbol of blood on the bird's chest to the sprinkling of ash and tying of thread. Her daughter was an attentive student when something peaked her interest, and there was no small part of Julia that didn't feel warmth flow through her, knowing her family's rituals were one of them.

When Katie held the bird towards her, Julia nodded, stepping forward with her wand, and concentrating as the purple light pulsed from the tip into the bird's breast. "Very good, Little," she murmured, "This starling will completely belong to you, and no one else." She glanced up, her light brown eyes meeting her daughter's icy blue. "Keep it away from the babies. We don't need a repeat of the squirrel incident."

A trauma for everyone involved except Evander.

The bird fluttered to life, struggling for a moment, before perking up and perching on Kathryn's finger. With a little whistle, the starling on Julia's hand flew the short distance to join its mate.

"Tomorrow, when they're a little more stable, we'll work on some transfiguration to brighten up their appearance a bit." She leaned down to pop a kiss on the top of Kathryn's head. "Well?" She smiled at her girl, flicking her wand to Kathryn's finger to close up the small cut. "Anything you want to ask?"

Kathryn waited patiently for the starling to 'come to life'. She'd done enough reading and had listened to her mother often enough to understand that no real life had been given under the sprawling canopy of the forbidden forest. Where some may have been put off or even discouraged, it made hardly a difference to her. The parts that she held interest in had nothing to do with whether she had become an omnipotent god granting a second chance to deserving creatures. Not really. There was a part of her that believed she was bringing something back that had been silenced and stolen by death.

Was she wrestling them back from its bony embrace? Kathryn wouldn't put it that way, but she did suppose she liked the thought of such subtle defiance to such an immovable force.

"Very good, Little. This starling will completely belong to you, and no one else."

Good.

"Keep it away from the babies. We don't need a repeat of the squirrel incident."

It wasn't a warning she needed. The corners of Kathryn's mouth fell into a deep scowl at the memory of Evander breaking apart her squirrel when he whirled it around in the air like the rosy-cheeked menace that he was. She wouldn't be allowing him near her birds. Should he find himself near them anyway – because the boy could be quite persistent and her mother loved to indulge him – then he would find himself stuffed and joining them. His father would miss him, she was sure. As would Morgan. In some ways, the first year recognised that even her mother would harbour a degree of sadness to not have that loud, chaos-inducer hanging around her private rooms.

It was a sacrifice she was willing to make if they couldn't teach him to keep his hands to himself.

Kathryn simply nodded her understanding, knowing that in the end, she would do what she deemed necessary to make her point about her birds.

"Tomorrow, when they're a little more stable, we'll work on some transfiguration to brighten up their appearance a bit."

She nodded again, mentally fitting it into the free portion of her schedule after her last class. There was a pause, then a shake of her head.

Kathryn took another handful of ash and scattered it across the surface they'd been working on. Using the ash, she drew the word 'potions' on the makeshift table. All transfiguration was temporary, even the best and strongest. At some point, it would wear off. She didn't want her birds to look good for a time, nor did she want to have to keep returning to her mother to have them fixed. They were her birds and would remain that way.

Other than that, she had no questions.

Turning to her mother, she extended the tainted hand, waiting patiently for her to clean it with a simple spell before slipping it back inside her glove.

She would have Mr. Maddox cull the other bird when she returned to his room and then have her mother help her with the spell again using her own blood. The matter was already sorted in her mind.

Potions?

"No," she answered with a shake of her head. "Potions don't work on the dead." It was simple really. Skin had to absorb. Stomachs had to digest. Blood had to flow. Necromancy didn't give life back to the corpses; it simply made them mobile and obedient. "Transfiguration isn't difficult, and with time, when we help you find a way to utilize your magic effectively, you'll understand how to manage them easily." If Kate didn't want to have to keep coming back to her to renew the transfigurations, then Julia supposed it was all the more motivation for her daughter to get working on her casting.

A quick wave of her wand saw the candles extinguished and she gathered them up, one by one, tucking them into her bag. A quick clean up of their supplies, and it was as though they'd never been there,.

With Kathryn's glove back in its rightful place, Julia nodded towards the starlings. "Beckon them. A little click of your tongue, and they'll follow." She waited. Sure enough, the birds took flight, albeit a bit wobbly for the moment, and glided quietly alongside Kathryn. Julia took her hand, leading her quietly back out down the trail they'd wandered.

"There's much more I can teach you, if you're interested," she said, their shoes crunching softly through the fallen leaves and twigs. The sound echoed out through the trees, meeting the quiet sounds of the forest nightlife. Crickets, bullfrogs. Somewhere in the far distance, something howled. "Rosie learned much of it before she was your age. Blood magic, nature rituals, ancient rites...."

She smiled down at her daughter. "The world is your oyster. Anything you want to learn, we can manage."

For now, they'd work on Necromancy and her casting. One step at a time.