“Remember when we said we’d first come here?” Sanra shouted in her mother’s ear over the roar of the waterfall in front of them. One of the original homes of the Coven, hidden behind the towering water that plummeted from the cliffside above. It was no wonder the locals called this place Witches Haunt. Sanra could feel the magic drumming in her veins in the same tempo as the pounding water.
Sanra’s mother, Renayth the Green, sat curled underneath many layers of blankets, unable to keep herself warm with her own magics now. Her chair hovered over the ground, the repellent spells working as well as ever despite it now being five years old.
Five years, Sanra thought, crouching next to her mother. So much had changed in that time.
Too much.
Renayth curled her fingers around Sanra’s hand. Sanra hated the weakness she could feel in her mother’s grip, the bony fingers that once had been so full of life and vibrance. Her mother was still here and yet, not here, not really.
The virus had taken everything from her, and not even their local Coven’s magics could help stop Renayth’s decline.
“We said we’d come here,” Sanra said, “when I first was raised to the Cloak. But we never did, did we? We helped the humans with their wars, we helped restore the magics to the new lands.”
Renayth leant forward, eyes glazed over with the constant confusion that was now her existence. The once great Renayth the Green now a shell of her former self.
“I can’t remember,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the waterfall’s thunderous roar, “I can’t remember anything.”
“I know, mother,” Sanra replied, folding her hands over her mother’s “I know. I will remember for the both of us.”
Alex.J.Cobalt is a fantasy writer from the UK. When she’s not working away at her fantasy novel series, she posts free flash fictions on her website, along with regular blogs about writing.
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