erinthul

The Last Séance

Added 2025-05-04 11:09:40 +0000 UTC

In the shadowed depths of a forest stood a moss-covered cottage, forgotten by time and hidden from mortal eyes. Within, by candlelight and the scent of dried rosemary and myrrh, sat the witch.

The centuries had been cruel. Magic, once her gift and joy, now clung to her like an old wound. Her hands, though tired, still moved with practiced grace as she cleared the dust from the wooden Ouija board—carved by her own hand three hundred years ago. Tonight, she would try again.

"One more time," she whispered.

She laid out the planchette and lit the last of her candles. Outside, the wind whispered through the trees like a breath too long held.

"Emric," she said, the name a tender bruise on her tongue. "Come back to me."

They had danced under moonlight, made vows in secret groves, defied the crown and its hunters together—until the noose claimed him and fire nearly claimed her. His death had torn her in half. She'd searched for him ever since, calling into the beyond with no answer.

Until tonight.

The board shuddered.