Depature

Chapter 6: Departure

Silva

The whole of the Coven, it seemed, wished to see me off. It was daybreak, and I was surrounded in our little town square by more witches in a single place than I had ever seen before. It was the day I would depart f to Ludenbruh for the first diplomatic mission in centuries. It also marked my first time leaving the Mistlands since my arrival since that terrible day. It was cause for celebration. Picnic tables and blankets had been pulled out to fill the town square. The air was rich with the scents of fresh honey, roasted ducks and chickens, and flowery teas. Fresh foods and baked goods had been carted from homes and shops to add to the festivities. My hesitance to leave the Mistlands was unusual for a witch, as there was a tradition of pilgrimage in which young witches would go out and learn about the world, and also something about themselves. Usually, a first-time departure had similar festivities, but not on the scale present here. It wasn’t just a celebration of my first pilgrimage, but also of the weight of my task.

Among the crowd were, of course, our elders, including Mother, who may have been more shocking to many present than the announcement of my journey. “Thank you all for coming here to see me off!” The rumbling of commentary and catching up had quieted down enough that I felt my words would be received. “I’m honored to be entrusted with this task, and will return with positive news for us all!” The crowd applauded and cheered. This was likely the most public speaking I had done among my new family. I gripped my broom, which I held beside me, with a brief moment of intensity. I had planned to tell Mother and the Elders of my decision and just fly off to Prydannia, but they, or more likely Viridia, decided it was cause to celebrate. I’m sure they all thought the same thing I did, that the task had been left up to the only witch not from the Mistlands. And so, they wanted to be sure I would depart remembering that I was loved in the Coven, that this would be my home to return to. I wasn’t sure what to do next.

I was lost in anxiety and anticipation, but my haze broke when I felt a warm embrace from behind. Before I could respond, Viridia whipped me around to face her, smiling so wide it split her face in two, “You’re forgetting to breathe.” She spoke in a hushed tone so that the whole crowd wouldn’t hear, they had returned to the food and friends that surrounded them. “Usually I’d expect hyperventilating, this is quite the opposite!” She chuckled, “How are you feeling, my dear?”

The crowd had returned to celebrating, sharing food and drink, laughing and cheering, their attention diverted away from my conclusive-sounding remarks. Their noise blurred together until eventually it faded into the background of my thoughts, and it was as if Viridia and I were alone. “I think the crowd is making me more nervous than the prospect of flying somewhere I’ve never been.” I matched Viridia’s smile with my own. The celebration was a fine gesture, but my home was really with Viridia. Because Mother was well, Mother, I didn’t call Viridia anything other than her name, but we both knew. She was my mom.

“Just follow the crow and you’ll be fine. It’s a short flight anyway, we’ve scheduled you with plenty of time for sightseeing along the way.” Viridia released me from our embrace, leaving her hands on my shoulders for a moment, before adjusting the woven, wide-brimmed hat that had crinkled against her moments ago.

It was true, the journey was short. Unless the celebration delayed me dramatically, I would arrive an hour or more before the nobles were to receive me. It also dawned on me that Prydannia may not realize how close our hamlet was to their capital. Or at the very least, Shaela MacCrow didn’t seem to know.

Viridia tapped me on the nose, “You can daydream later, my dear. The other elders will likely want to speak with you, so don’t go jumping off into the sky too quickly now.” She pushed back my hat, exposing my forehead to plant a wet kiss square in the middle, and then shoved it back down before wandering back into the crowd to share in the festivities.

I averted my attention away from the woman who had raised me, and turned to the women who had helped more than I likely would ever know. The elders were gathered around a large willow tree that marked the center of our town square. Mother stood among them, staring up into the willow’s branches and leaves. One elder, Janus, whose full-moon colored hair denoted her a witch with many, many years behind her, noticed Viridia’s departure and waved me over. “Did you know that was the first time in three decades all fifteen members of the council were present?” Her voice was raspy, but jovial.

“Is that so?” I cheekily indulged her in her little trivia lesson.

“It is,” she smiled fiercely, the crow's feet around her eyes becoming even more pronounced. “Not even that war the Skylanders got up to some time ago was enough to bring us together...” She paused for a moment, her smile fading, not meaning to have sounded dismissive of the war that had stripped me of so much. “You’d be even more surprised to find out it was a coincidence,” she smiled again, “not the work of Mother, who I had thought summoned our missing members to convene.”

I looked at Mother, who still focused on the willow, and then turned back to Janus, “Maybe it wasn't a coincidence, maybe there was some sign to return, in the trees or lakes. Or in the behavior of the critters and beasts that roam our lands.”

“Maybe so,” Janus replied, nodding in understanding, “the world moves on with or without us, and it’s up to us to determine if we should move with it.” The two of us shared a silent moment, looking up into the tree as Mother did, getting lost in the shifting patterns of the leaves in the wind. After that brief moment, the other elders exited their conversation and turned their attention to me, with the exception of Mother, whose focus dared not divert from the willow tree, and Viridia, who had dived headfirst into the celebrations and was probably lost in a mountain of sourdough and honey butter. Janus was the first to speak. She stood with perfect posture, hands clasped in front of her, and began, “This is not a task we take lightly. We delegated this to you because we trust you to succeed.” She gathered her thoughts for a moment and then reached into her coat pocket and revealed a small pendant. It was a black stone with a silver back piece that wrapped around to hold it in place. She moved her hand to pass me the pendant, and the light scattered through the black stone, showing the phases of the moon one after another. Janus undid the simple facet that held closed my black woolen cloak and replaced it with the pendant. “Don’t lose track of your time away,” she continued, rocking the pendant back and forth slightly to reveal the moons again, “this is your home. It always will be.” Janus had teared up and pulled a handkerchief from another pocket. As she dabbed away the tears, she squeezed my hand and then stepped away for the others to speak to me.

I shared a brief moment with each of the elders, even Virida, who had snuck past me and made it to the back of the line. They each presented me small gifts: a gold ring in the shape of a snake eating itself, a beaded necklace from down south, a pouch of cookies to enjoy throughout my journey, a new waterskin made from fine deerhide, my favorite tea, fresh honeycomb, a small pouch of sugar, a different pouch of salt. All little things that would make my journey and, likely, brief time away easier. Each was a little reminder of the Coven. Of home. Viridia's gift, which came last, was a set of new black-dyed gloves. We had already had our farewell in a sense, so the only words she left me with were, “Best to keep your hands in pristine condition if you’re gonna have to do some hand shaking.” She winked, hugged me, and then stepped aside to reveal Mother, who had finally broken her away from the tree.

Come to me, my child.

This time her voice entered my head like the cool waters of a stream. I hadn’t realized how tense I had become saying farewell to everyone. While I didn’t see them often, these women had ensured I had a roof over my head and food on my table. They, too, had raised me. They were all the family I had. I took a few steps forward to be in Mother’s reach. She ran her hands along my face, wiping away tears I hadn’t realized I was shedding. Her touch was soft, reassuring. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply, and just lingered in the moment. At the same time, Mother's hands had reached behind my head, and when I opened my eyes, I was wearing a veil over the bottom half of my face.

When you are in Prydannia, you are not just Shaela, but all the Mistland Witches.

Be on your guard while you are there. Only play the pieces you need to move forward.

There are things that those of the sky struggle to see.

Be their guide where you can, but know that some will always be blinded.

You will have to learn the games they play and outmaneuver them.

Her words grew with intensity each time they passed through my mind. The warmth that had surrounded me faded into the cold reality. That I may just be a political pawn to the Prydannians. I steeled myself, gripping my broom firmly again. Ready to venture forth. I lacked the words to convey my resolve, and instead locked eyes with Mother and nodded.

“You are one of my many children, and a wonderful one at that, I have no doubts you will find the right path for us.” The coldness was replaced again, for but a moment, with the warmth of Mother’s spoken words. Words that the rest of the festival missed. Words that were meant only for me. With the gifts and parting words of the elders, I leaned on my broom as it rose off the ground. Once it was high enough, I straddled it and made ready to depart. From below, mother clapped twice, and a crow darted out of the willow tree’s branches, and circled me lazily, waiting to lead me to meet the Prydannian nobles who had summoned me. Once high enough, the crowd broke from their activities, waving and cheering goodbye. From the shrinking mass of people, I could just barely make out Viridia, who was unmatched in her energy as she jumped and shouted, and waved. I waved back, then faced forward on my broom. Sensing I was ready to go, the crow took off in front of me, and together we soared away from my little hamlet, my home, far above the fog and mists, up into the sky among the floating islands.