“WE ARE THE CHURCH OF THEOLAS!!!”

The mob of villagers roared in anger as they chant in unison. The torches were raised in the air and embers from the fire danced in the cold night air. The mob surrounded six magical creatures who were tied to stakes. The smell of oil was pungent in the air, almost suffocating to the bystanders but they didn’t care.

“Today a law has been passed, and it was only through God that we were given this gift!” A man garbed in a priest outfit shouted intensely. “He has given us the POWER to burn these creatures behind me.”

“THEOLAS THEOLAS THEOLAS!”

The mob chanted like a mantra, their crazed eyes viciously shooting daggers at the magical creatures. Theolas proudly looked on as the mob chanted his name. He raised his hand and instantly the mob was silent.

“These creatures are a plague to our way of life. A blight, a stain, upon the earth in which we reside. We shall take no prisoners. The Witches, the Warlocks, the Mermaid, the Werewolf. DEATH is the only option to save us from this blight!”

“BURN THE WITCHES!”

“BURN THEM ALL!”

“DEATH TO THE MERMAID!”

“KILL THE WEREWOLF!”

“Burn them all!” Theolas yelled in an assertive tone, commanding the mob.

The mob complied, throwing their torches on the sticks covered in oil. The fire caught instantly, setting the unconscious creatures alight. Their sudden screams and cries stunned the angry mob but were soon lost in the cheers of delight.

Theolas relished in the screams, his expression one of relief as he watched them be burned alive. Theolas turned to the people, spread his arms wide and said.

“GOD has spoken...for it is his wish that we are relieved of this blight. I can assure you that your safety and the safety of all humans are our first priority. Our gracious and benevolent King has research teams building new technology to combat other dangerous beasts. Remember, your loved ones that the beasts took from us. We cannot stain their memory by becoming friends with these beasts. They all….MUST BE ELIMINATED!”

“THEOLAS! THEOLAS! THEOLAS!”

Theolas basked in cheers and smiled. “It has only just begun...I will avenge them!” He thought viciously.

Behind the mob stood a cloaked figure that watched the five magical creatures burn. Vibrant green peaked from under the hood, emanating a coldness that could freeze a lake.

A villager brushed past her, bumping into her shoulder. Her hood fell off, revealing long brown curly hair, perfect bow lips, and a slightly round face. Her green eyes stared at Theolas with such cold fury that the man in question was looking around cautiously as if he could feel her stare.

Her fingers danced at her side, making small dazzling lights appear around her hand. Her mind was screaming at her to kill him now and end this madness. But she couldn’t for some reason and she made a fist. The dazzling lights disappeared and she relaxed her hand.

The world had gone mad.

She had gone to bed and woke up to madness. The king passed a law to kill all magical creatures and it honestly shocked her. She hadn’t heard of such a law being implemented and it wouldn’t have passed with the number of Warlocks and Witches in political positions.

Except it did.

She had no idea who or what the Church of Theolas was but they seemed to be a cultist group intent on killing magical creatures. They rounded up the known magical creatures in the village, who she spotted mingling with the very same villagers and killed them in cold blood.

She took one last look at the charred bodies before silently excusing herself from the mob. Those magical creatures were unfortunate, unlike her who was fortunate for not being as open about her magical heritage to strangers.

The woman exited the village and walked down the muddy road that leads to another village. She turned left, veering off the muddy path and into the unnamed woods where her measly hut resided. Her black hooded cloak billowed around her in the howling night wind. She made a series of left and right turns that would confuse a non-magical bystander.

However, a witch or to be exact; a Cursed Fae Witch, like her knew these woods like the back of her hand. Her name was Primrose Willis, a witch who managed to live for over a thousand years.

After making a final left turn, Primrose found herself in a small clearing where her wooden hut resided. She stepped over the mushroom circle the encircled her home and pushed the door open. The brown-haired witch walked into the consuming darkness of her home and raised her hand.

Her pink lips moved as she whispered, her voice detached. “Dancing Lights.”

She snapped her fingers and a glowing orange flame erupted from her fingers. It floated in the air before jumping towards the nearest candle. She watched as the flame jumped from candle to candle slowly illuminating the hut, giving the inside an ethereal glow.

She walked over to her bookshelf that held a wealth of knowledge she accumulated over the years. Some books contained spells of her own creation which were sealed with magic. She ran her fingers across the spines of her books, delicately touching them as if they were the most precious things in the world.

She moved away from her bookshelf and sat down by the fire pit which was lit by the orange flame. The water in her cauldron started boiling within seconds due to the magical flame. The witch basked in the heat of the flame as she got lost in her thoughts.

She had come to this village – which was called Callesta – several months ago by carriage to find a rare book that she had been looking for. She started collecting rare books over the years as a way to preserve lost history and magic. The book was last seen in this village according to a librarian she met a while back.

She had tried many scrying spells to locate the book but she had no success.

Primrose watched the fire, displeasure radiating from her body. She knew it was likely the book had an anti-scrying spell on it or the book was destroyed and found it disheartening. She shook her head, chasing away her depressive thoughts and got to work on another way to find the book.

Primrose went to her wooden cabinet and grabbed the relevant items she needed. She looked at the items on the table; a wooden oak bowl, paper, quill & inkwell.

She had one more scrying spell to try before she would move on completely and try to figure out why the world had gone crazy. However, the world could wait for a few hours since this book was important to her.

This spell was an extremely old scrying spell she had created years ago. It was only recently that she remembered the spell when searching through old tomes of hers.

She made a cut on her finger and squeezed a drop of blood into the inkwell. She then dipped the quill into the inkwell and wrote cursively on the paper.

‘Curses & How They Work by Muriel Mercer’

She looked at the name of the book and author she wrote on the paper. The author was long dead so it was impossible to ask her any questions. Folding the paper neatly, she dropped it into the bowl. She moved her hands over the bowl, letting them hover just five inches above the bowl.

“O tree spirits,” she chanted as dazzling green lights dance across her fingers, “heareth my plea and grant me nature’s divine energy, to find for me, my own greatest desire,” She looked down in the bowl, “Nature’s Compass.” Suddenly, three green lights flew in through the open window and encircled the bowl several times before diving into the bowl.

The paper burst into bright green flames and she quickly took up the bowl before walking outside. Using one hand, she quickly cast a cloaking spell over herself to hide her form and the magical light that would surely give away her position.

The way her spell worked, required a good relationship with the tree spirits which she built over the years. The spell would get brighter the closer she got to the target and dim the farther she was away from it. The green flames led her into the middle of the village where the magical creatures were burnt alive. Noticing just a few guards around, she walked towards the well.

The flame dimmed.

She made a right turn in the direction of the tavern the flame dimmed further. After going through trial and error, the flame finally got brighter. The flame grew brighter and bright until she found herself behind the local church. She looked down the stairs at the door that led into the Hall of the Dead.

“The Hall of the Dead?” Primrose mused, before stepping down the stairs.

She pushed open the iron double doors, stepped inside and dropped her cloaking spell. The darkness ran away at the presence of the green flame burning in the oak bowl. The smell of rotting flesh and burning paper invaded her nose but she ignored it in favor of finding the book.

She walked deep into the hall, passing by corpses, as the fire got brighter. She came upon a wooden door and turned the doorknob using her free hand but it was locked.

Primrose scoffed and raised her index finger. On the tip of her finger, a green spark appeared and she drew an upside-down triangle around the lock. The door unlocked with a click and she turned the knob once more before pushing the door wide open. She stepped inside and heard the squeaky sound of a bed, indicating someone was inside. She looked to her left and saw the keeper of the hall staring at her wide-eyed.

“Now who the hell are you?!” The old keeper yelled, rushing towards her with his arm raised ready to slap her but she moved quicker.

The Fae Witch touched his forehead with her index finger, making the man freeze completely. “Compelling Daze” Primrose whispered, her voice gentle. The man relaxed and fell into a blank state with dull eyes. “You will return to your bed and when you wake up, it will be nothing but a dream you can barely recall.”

The keeper complied and nodded his head. He walked back to his bed in an almost robotic way and laid down. Primrose looked around the tiny room and saw a book on his dresser. She walked closer and inspected the book.

“Now why would this book be in the hands of this old man?” Primrose thoughtfully mumbled before glancing back at the old man with curious eyes. The witch ended spell and the room fell into semi-darkness with one lone candle providing the light.

She placed the oak bowl on the dresser before letting her hands hover over the book. She chanted unintelligible words as her hand dazzled with green sparks. Green lights phased through the walls, coming into the room, and floated around her.

She looked at the six tree spirits that came to aid her and her eyes followed them as they encircled the black book on the dresser. Primrose closed her eyes while the spirits form a green dome of magical energy around the book. She wanted to check for harmful spells that were laid on the book before she touched it.

“Hmm, interesting,” Primrose pondered as she inspected the spells on the book. “This book is covered in numerous anti-scrying spells that guard against known scrying spells. The spell I used is one I created centuries ago so that’s why it worked.”

She absorbed the book’s appearance with her green eyes before tucking the book under her arm and leaving the Hall of the Dead. She re-casted her cloaking spell before walking home and once she was inside she delved right into the book.

She slowly flipped the pages, her green eyes darting from word to word. The book was incredibly detailed on how curses work and the fae witch found herself immersed in the book. In no time, she finished the book since it wasn’t very long.

She sighed.

Primrose placed the book among her collection and cast a few protection spells over it. The book didn’t have what she was looking for. It’s been centuries but she still hasn’t found a thing to cure her. The witch gnashed her teeth and swiped the inkwell off the table in anger. The inkwell smashed onto the wooden floor as the ink seeped beneath the floorboards.

She stood in the middle of her hut in a daze until the fluttering of wings snapped her out of it. She looked towards the window and a smile slowly formed on her face. A blue butterfly flew in, flapping its beautiful wings with incredible elegance. Primrose held her hand out and the butterfly landed on her pale hand. She lifted the small magical creature towards her face. She looked down at her familiar who sensed her distress and came to comfort her.

“You’re the only one that I truly enjoy their company, Anastasia.” Primrose told the familiar. Anastasia happily flapped her wings, releasing waves of magical energy that caressed her face and soothed her body.

Primrose chuckled. “Thank you, Anastasia.”

Anastasia flapped her wings trice before taking flight and flying into the small wooden enclave filled with flowers that her master made for her.

“I guess it’s time to figure out why the world has gone crazy.”

A tall man stood on the side of the dirt road in black robes. His black hair was combed back to perfection with strands falling into his face. His blue alluring eyes gleamed in the dark as he hailed down the passing travel carriage. He greeted the passengers with a smile sat in between two burly men.

“What’s your name stranger?” The man on the left of him asked.

“My name is of no importance to you.” He replied in an amused tone. He gripped his Wiccan necklace tightly and he stared straight ahead of him, ignoring the two men.

“Hey! My brother is talking to you!” The man on the right yelled.

“Tch, annoying,” the man said in his velvety voice, “If you must know...my name is William.”

The men chuckled suspiciously. “Great...just great. Where are you going, William?”

William smirked. “Doesn’t this carriage take us to Callesta?” He replied playfully.

“It does but how about you and us get off earlier, right friend?”

“With pleasure, my friends,” William replied humbly.

The two men signaled for the carriage to stop and led William into the forest. William followed the men deep into the forest until they stopped. The two men faced William who kept his head lowered.

“So this is how it’s going to end Willy. You’re going to take off those expensive clothes you got on and give us all of your money or we kill you right here."

William chuckled. “What makes you think you can command me?” William asked patronizingly before raising his head and sending the men a mocking smile.

“You-!” One of the brothers yelled but was frozen in his tracks.

“Brother!” The other brother tried to move but found himself trapped as well.

“You know it’s only polite to give your name before asking for someone’s name.” William mocked as he walked towards the men.

“You’re a Warlock!”

“That I am,” William admitted, “but you’re not going to live long enough tell anyone.”

William grinned madly before holding out his hand and drawing a dagger from his waist. “The moment I had a drop of your blood you were under my control, you pitiful humans.”

He stabbed the dagger deep into his palm, spilling his deep red, almost black blood on the forest floor. A red light erupted from the wound and tendrils of blood enveloped the dagger, staining it red.

“What are you going to do?!”

William tilted his head to the side and gripped the dagger with his injured hand. “I’m a Blood Warlock.... who made a pact with a demon. I have a quota to fill and you’re going to be my sacrifices.” William told them maliciously before walking towards the brother who was going to attack him.

“Wha-” The brother started but was interrupted by his own gargles. William dragged the blood-stained blade across his neck slowly, savoring in the way the blood gushed and spilled all over his pale hand. Rivulets of blood poured from the fatal wound, decorating the forest floor.

“BROTHER NO!” The other brother screamed.

“Pitiful,” William said, losing interest in the dying man. He turned to the still alive brother. “To think you both would’ve been alive if you left me alone but alas it twas not to be.”

“PLEASE! LET ME GO!” The man started crying as William neared him. William pressed his wounded palm on the forehead of the man, smearing the man with his own blood.

“Devour.” he snarled in a voice not his own.

Tendrils of blood burst from his wounded palm and wrapped around the screaming man. The tendrils dug into his skin and could be seen traveling beneath his skin. The burly man’s body quickly lost its vitality as his skin dried and turned pale.

William pulled his hand away from the man, leaving an empty husk before him. William smirked and backhanded the husk which burst into a cloud of dust.

William turned away and began walking back towards the main road. “Now that the quota has been filled, let’s see whether this man called Theolas is worth killing.”