Hygswitch
Priestess of Anoia
Heading out
Tilda looked at her own shaking hands as a red drop of blood fell upon them. She touched her nose and produced a red smear on her finger tips. Her throbbing headache was a nightmare. She had grown up among witches, and heard and read a lot about the effects of using magic, but feeling it in her own body was something entirely different.
To even have the ability to channel the powers now was a damn miracle! It is a trait only passed from mother to daughter and always stays dormant in males. No one had expected that her hormone replacement therarpy would unlock her mothers gift in her.
...Tilda had been giddy to show them, show her mother and aunts, that she had the gift too. That she could become part of the coven. Her heart had been jumping in anticipation to show them how she could levitate water. They had been polite at first, but when they actually saw it the situation escalated instantly. Her own mother had pinned her to the ceiling with telekinesis right away. "How dare you! How the fuck dare you use my powers? Everybody knows that men do not...." "I am not a man!" She interjected furiously.
Her Fucking Family. Attacking her just like this. Until that point each and every one of them had been so accepting, and still caring. Had even still taught her a bit of the theory of magic. Without that she wouldn't have been able to make enougth sense of the digital grimoir she had found on the typewriter net and xeroxed out a few days ago.
After jumping her heart was now broken. They had not only not accepted her, but had attacked her right away. Anger boiled in her, as they went on to pin her to the ceiling. She closed her eyes. reached out. There was each of their auras. Red from rage. She let her minds eye wander. Ah there it was...the tome. This Houses Mana well. Shining bright. She knew it was a lot too much for an untrained ...., yes she would think of herself as a witch. She had the gift. She was a true born daughter of a witch. it did not matter that her rightful coven did not accept her. With her mind she reached in despite the danger...
Her eyes focused again upon her blood smeared fingers. She lowered them. The room was a mess. All three witches lay unconscious. She could take the Tome with her. But this would untether a few of the important leylines. More important her Mothers House would fall. She could not bring herself to do this. Not even after they greeted her gift like this. Instead she quickly fished out the keys to her aunts car. She would not look back, but for that she would need a home on the road.
As she left the grand brownbrick house 10 minutes later. Her Foldable Typenet typewriter under one arm, a big seabag full of clothes and other possessions under the other. She smiled as she walked towards the old 1980 Chevrolet G30 Camper. This would do.
Even though Tilda had been a driver for a few years already it wasn't too easy to negotiate the narrow streets of Bowery. The Redbrick and Brownstone Building filled district right under the feeder road to the towering Herenbridge was one of the parts of Richborough that still retained its origins. Water filled Canals divided the narrow mostly cobbled streets and driving the Camper over the narrow bridges nearly made her heart stop every time.
It had been nice growing up in this part of town, but it was time to say goodbye now. She drove through the nightly roads, the numerous Skyscrapers of the neighboring parts of Downtown casting glittering mirages onto the canals. At the old Castiron Bridge over the main Canal she parked. She would need some magical supplies.
It was a bad Idea though to enter the Troll Market under the Bridge alone. She looked into the mirror. Her bangs and wolfcut looked dischevelled. Her mascara was running, making her look like a raccoon. Fuck she was 22 now, but she just looked like a runaway teenager that had been crying.
Tilda looked at her own shaking hands as a red drop of blood fell upon them. She touched her nose and produced a red smear on her finger tips. Her throbbing headache was a nightmare. She had grown up among witches, and heard and read a lot about the effects of using magic, but feeling it in her own body was something entirely different.
To even have the ability to channel the powers now was a damn miracle! It is a trait only passed from mother to daughter and always stays dormant in males. No one had expected that her hormone replacement therarpy would unlock her mothers gift in her.
...Tilda had been giddy to show them, show her mother and aunts, that she had the gift too. That she could become part of the coven. Her heart had been jumping in anticipation to show them how she could levitate water. They had been polite at first, but when they actually saw it the situation escalated instantly. Her own mother had pinned her to the ceiling with telekinesis right away. "How dare you! How the fuck dare you use my powers? Everybody knows that men do not...." "I am not a man!" She interjected furiously.
Her Fucking Family. Attacking her just like this. Until that point each and every one of them had been so accepting, and still caring. Had even still taught her a bit of the theory of magic. Without that she wouldn't have been able to make enougth sense of the digital grimoir she had found on the typewriter net and xeroxed out a few days ago.
After jumping her heart was now broken. They had not only not accepted her, but had attacked her right away. Anger boiled in her, as they went on to pin her to the ceiling. She closed her eyes. reached out. There was each of their auras. Red from rage. She let her minds eye wander. Ah there it was...the tome. This Houses Mana well. Shining bright. She knew it was a lot too much for an untrained ...., yes she would think of herself as a witch. She had the gift. She was a true born daughter of a witch. it did not matter that her rightful coven did not accept her. With her mind she reached in despite the danger...
Her eyes focused again upon her blood smeared fingers. She lowered them. The room was a mess. All three witches lay unconscious. She could take the Tome with her. But this would untether a few of the important leylines. More important her Mothers House would fall. She could not bring herself to do this. Not even after they greeted her gift like this. Instead she quickly fished out the keys to her aunts car. She would not look back, but for that she would need a home on the road.
As she left the grand brownbrick house 10 minutes later. Her Foldable Typenet typewriter under one arm, a big seabag full of clothes and other possessions under the other. She smiled as she walked towards the old 1980 Chevrolet G30 Camper. This would do.
Even though Tilda had been a driver for a few years already it wasn't too easy to negotiate the narrow streets of Bowery. The Redbrick and Brownstone Building filled district right under the feeder road to the towering Herenbridge was one of the parts of Richborough that still retained its origins. Water filled Canals divided the narrow mostly cobbled streets and driving the Camper over the narrow bridges nearly made her heart stop every time.
It had been nice growing up in this part of town, but it was time to say goodbye now. She drove through the nightly roads, the numerous Skyscrapers of the neighboring parts of Downtown casting glittering mirages onto the canals. At the old Castiron Bridge over the main Canal she parked. She would need some magical supplies.
It was a bad Idea though to enter the Troll Market under the Bridge alone. She looked into the mirror. Her bangs and wolfcut looked dischevelled. Her mascara was running, making her look like a raccoon. Fuck she was 22 now, but she just looked like a runaway teenager that had been crying.
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