The beggar woman's name, Jeanette, spread like wildfire through the pews. Finally, one man stood up, he was a local farmer with a wife and two children, a boy and a girl. "Pastor, we do believe that the beggar woman, Jeanette, could very possibly be a witch. She has not arrived at church in a fortnight, and she has been seen muttering curses under her breath. She even looks like a witch! She has a long pointed nose and a spot on her face!" He practically shouted at the end, and the people in the pews muttered words of agreement and were nodding their heads. The pastor raised his hands.
"Christ knows how many devils there are in his churches. And who they are. We will investigate if Jeanette is indeed a witch, and any other women that come under suspicion. Have a holy day, people of Salem, and make sure to keep an eye out for anything that is suspicious." And by that, church was dismissed. We all filtered out the door, our eyes wandering over one another, seemingly as if we looked close enough at one's face we could see 'witch' imprinted on their forehead. Once Mother and Father and I returned home, we retired to the living room to discuss what had happened today at church.
"I do not feel we are in any danger here," Father started. "They are looking for a wicked witch, and we are not wicked. We practice the magic of light, not the magic of shadows, and we have been extremely careful as to keep our magic hidden. I feel that at this moment, we would cause more suspicion to flee than to stay and hold our ground."
"But dear, you saw the paranoia in the people's eyes. I feel that staying would put all of us in danger," she said, and then turned to me. "Soline, what did you feel in the church today?" She asked. I had an articulate gift of an empath, to feel what others are feeling. Witches with strong bloodlines often develop articulate gifts over time, but I was born an empath, which often caused problems for me.
"I felt paranoia spreading like a weed in an overgrown garden, mostly. I also felt a sense of righteousness coming from the Pastor and Governor, and then strangely, I sensed a feeling of dark humor, but I couldn't articulate who it was coming from. It kept moving around, like it knew there was going to be someone who could feel it. It was taunting me, and it felt evil."
"That settles it," Father replied. "We must stay. We have the weekly meeting of the council tonight, and we will figure out who this person is. You both will stay home, it is easier for one to sneak out during the witching hour than three."