Nim awoke that morning resolutely. She had decided today was the tell Caroline about her magic. She didn't want to overwhelm the girl all at once, so best to keep it to the basics. Today she would finally pull the books from under the floorboards in the sitting room and peruse the histories of her people with her granddaughter. She had waited long enough, too long, Nim thought to herself.
Nim started her day as she usually did. She fetched her cane and made her way downstairs to start the tea. Her hips ached most in the morning, but for a woman of her age, she was still quite spry. She would sit and sing to the ancestors and the old gods before drawing the bones from the worn-out leather bag attached to her belt. She shook the bag of bones, concentrating her will on a positive outcome, then tossed the small pieces out on the table before her. However, they landed would hopefully give Nim a satisfactory answer to her question.
She decided she would not teach this skill to her granddaughter. Good rarely came from meddling in the future, and Nim found it rarely affected her choices when it came to her responsibilities anyway.
As it happened, this morning was different. A silence enveloped the small kitchen, the sounds of spring now inaudible from the open window. Nim shivered despite the warm breeze blowing in. Today the bones took shape in such a manner she had not seen since she was a girl.
War. She could not discern if the war was coming or going, near or far, but the omen was clear. War lay in her path, and she didn't take the sign lightly. Getting up and putting her head eye level to the table, the omen lay there in white bone on the worn wood from any angle she looked at it.
Still, there was no need to panic. She thought to be ever the pragmatist. Nim gathered the bones up quickly and fixed the porridge for her and Caroline. It seemed the leisurely pace she had taken in introducing magic to Caroline was now folly. She had only tried to protect the girl, Nim had seen how power could corrupt the purest hearts, and she feared for her beloved granddaughter. It seemed to her she had picked the lesser of two evils. She knew that secrets could corrupt them too.
"Forgive an old woman the decisions she made with love." Nim prayed softly aloud. There had been no real need for Caroline to learn more about her magic. There had never been a threat that warranted any action. The farm flourished, and everyone in Ovandale lived peacefully for the most part. The small nation was surrounded on three sides by water and Mera to the north with whom they had cordial relations. Aside from the occasional tavern brawl or hooligan youth, there was no real danger in the country. The pact of the Conventicle made sure of that.
Still, Nim had felt the tugging at the corners of her heart in recent months to tell Caroline more. Nim supposed it was easier to let her granddaughter believe whatever she wanted instead of showing her the truth.
Nim shook her head, sitting down at the table. She would have to teach the girl everything and quick-how to truly harness the power she had over the elements around her. Caroline had already been using magic for years without knowing it and still somehow believed she was human. Now she needed to know how to control it consciously and with purpose.
The girl had remained oblivious to how her songs affected the growing plants in the garden, to the fact that the little book she carried since childhood never ran out of space and many other instances of good fortune or happenstance that seemed to follow the girl around. Nim had provided her a sheltered life on the farm. Everyone in Ovandale lived a private life, whether they knew it or not and for good reason. Although she had only been to the sea once, she knew what lay on the other side-war, death, politics, clan feuds, and vampires. Nim had provided her granddaughter a sheltered life but not without good reason.
After Caroline came down downstairs to join her for breakfast, a knock came at the door. Caroline cleared the dishes breaking a bowl in the process. Another terrible omen thought Nim. She was not in the least surprised when the knock came. She could always feel when company was coming. She registered the shock in Caroline's eyes as she went to answer the door and the dazed look she had returning to tell Nim it was for her.
Of course, it was for her. She hadn't been using her magic only to grow apples for the last fifty years. Every witch in Ovandale was responsible for helping to protect the region. Every twenty years or so, some ruler from Mera, the land to the north, would get it in their head to send someone down, usually Talmot that smelly bastard Nim thought, recalling their last encounter. Mera was a relatively peaceful place, but compared to Ovandale, it was chaos.
There was always cautious talk of Ibudal as well, the land across the East Sea. If Mera was chaos, then Ibudal was anarchy. No travelers came from there, and none ever would if the Conventicle had any say in the matter. Likely that was the direction the bones were pointing her in. They were always at war in some fashion in Ibudal.
She waved Caroline along. Likely the girl would make her way to the barn and then veer off to the orchard. Nim moved toward the door and opened it to find a man there dressed in back and gold."Cora Delvine?" he asked. She nodded. "This is for you," he stated, handing over the letter.
Nim opened it reading the words carefully and quickly. The messenger did not leave. Instead, he waited for her to answer.
"Talmot, you can have your contract witches change your face to disguise you, but the smell of stale beer and tobacco smoke from the whorehouses clings to you like an old sweater. Funny you thought you would need one to see me, I know who you work for." Nim told him offhandedly. She wondered why the soldier was posing as a messenger in Ibudali garb.
Their uniforms hadn't changed much since she last saw them. She had met with the Meran general may time over the years to discuss various matters. He was usually sent with an envoy when aid was needed. Regardless, they had always had a strained relationship. Talmot hated magic. His face registered a moment of slight shock at her recognition. "Tell this Lord Undair-"
"King Undair," Talmot interjected.
"Whoever he is, tell him no witch on the Conventicle will concede to his request." Nim stood up a little bit straighter looking up at the bearded man. She did not recognize the new king's name, Ibudal must have changed rulers in the fifty years, but they were all the same. She was curious as to why Talmot was now employed by this king, though. Did that mean the lands to her north were under the command of King Undair as well? She tried to discern the implications quickly.
"You read the letter, Cora. You know what will happen if you refuse." He replied, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Get off my doorstep Talmot. Send word of my response back to your master." Nim spat the words out. Talmot stood there, not moving for a long moment. Without another thought, Nim raised her cane and blasted the man. A gust of air that sent him sprawling on the dirt road in front of her house. Her bond to wind and air was most potent, and with the aid of her cane, she was able to channel the element more effectively.
Satisfaction spread across her wrinkled features as she watched the man scramble on the ground for a moment for staggering back up to his feet. Nim hoped she wouldn't pay for her rash actions at a later time. Nim closed the front door of the farmhouse as Talmot raced back to his horse and rode hastily back down the road the way he had come.
Nim knew she must move with haste. She sat at her writing desk first, gold embossed letter in hand, and began to prepare a letter of her own. She would need to go into town and borrow a falcon from the apiary, but news of the incident needed to reach the other members of the Conventicle of what had occurred here today. She would bring Caroline with her and explain along the way. The girl would be in for a shock, but Nim was confident the girl would adapt quickly. She would need Caroline's skills if what she thought was coming turned out to be true. The skills Nim had yet to teach her, she thought with a sigh.
She had copied the letter only once before she felt the rumbling of the floorboards. Her quill scratched against the parchment, smudging the ink. She did not need to look out the window to know what was making their way towards her home. She had heard an army before.
Nim rushed to the back door looking frantically for Caroline. She spotted her lithe figure resting in the branch of an apple tree. Channeling the powers from the earth, she forced her will into the tree branch Caroline was sitting upon. She heard the resounding crack from where she stood on the other side of the farm.
Using every ounce of magic Nim could gather from the air and wind and even some from the stars themselves, she pushed her will to rend and opening in space and time. Nim hadn't performed such complex and powerful magic such as this in nearly fifty years. She hadn't needed to. She focused her will as much as she could to send Caroline somewhere where she would not be harmed.
Working her magic in such haste Nim could think little beyond sending her somewhere far away and sending her to someone safe, or at least someone who wouldn't kill her on sight. Caroline was a bright girl and would be able to find her way wherever she landed. It was best not to be too specific in sending a person through space, she had found that out the hard way many years ago. Nim said a quick prayer to her ancestors, the old gods, and the new and watched as Caroline fell through the hole under the branch.
Nim used her last reserve of magic to seal the space if she left the rend open, and someone followed her; the consequences could be dire. Her energy finally expended, Nim fell to the ground as she lost consciousness.