Chapter Text
She just stood there silently. Nobody knew if she would make it, not even her. The only person she trusted was swallowed by the mighty heat, and licks of flames colored like sunset. And even years and years upon this event, sometimes she forgot if the burning occurred at midnight, or when the sphere of explosions was falling under the horizon.
On the other hand, few flashes were forever burned into her memory. The young lady would never forget the stench of burning flesh and hair, she would always feel the heat on her rosy cheeks and always remember the horrendous screams coming from the town square. It was not even a town, more of a country village if you ask her, but that did not matter, did it? Her opinion never mattered. After all, she was a girl, a child and a proclaimed witch.
Young Rowena got lost sometimes, she did not have time for this now. “Don’t you ever forget yourself, little Raven,” her mother often said. “Always trust your powers, you are extraordinary.” And that she was. She never met anyone like her. The only link, to the warmness right underneath her heart, was the letter from her ancestor. Her great great great aunt if you wanted to know the exact person. It contained all the answers with just one teeny tiny problem. Their ancient riches withered away a long time ago, and Rowena did not have a tutor. Teaching herself the art of reading and writing would sure solve this issue, nevertheless it was not a talent she owned. Our future lady and her mother were on a run since her powers first manifested. That tends to make people in a bit of a rush that is too great for acquiring this nearly useless skill. Yes, some may argue about its inutility, but even if she was not recognized by her unique looks, the reading part might have put her in a tight spot. That is mostly why she found reading not useful.
The girl did not move an inch, because it was her mother who was burning at the stake. It should have been her. She had the powers to protect herself, unlike her mother, and she was the reason Agatha was dying in the worst way a person can meet with death. The guards were still roaming around, looking for Rowena. They did not know the young witch was already able to use wandless and wordless magic. Rowena, on the contrary, did not know what a wand was, so it obviously made sense.
Agatha’s screams went completely silent. Her daughter knew, this was her cue. Mother’s ashes took the wind, and the bonfire held her memory forever. Because the fire never forgets. Meanwhile, our witch returned to their hiding place. She took the herbs, she took her mother’s necklace, she took the letter. They did not have a lot of stuff, and her dress had pockets deep enough for these three things to fit right in. Rowena smelled the familiar scent of the herbs in a soft leather pouch. She smelled coriander, herb used to reduce fever. She smelled lavender, purple flowers to chase away nightmares. She smelled mint, green leaves for stomach pains. She could go on and on, but mostly, she smelled home.
Another thing, that smelled like home, was her letter. The scent of something sweet was still attached to the parchment even after all these years. It was something sweet, maybe roses? No, that she would have had recognized. Some time later, she would have learnt, that the soft smell was indeed, embed into it with magic. Now, the girl did not even know, that the warmth feeling of her powers was actually called ‘magic’.
Lastly, the necklace. It was a simple silver chainlet with a huge sapphire attached to it. Rowena often wondered, why her mother never sold it, because the money would have saved them from a lot of trouble. She has always had a simple answer for her: “Never worry, my little Raven. This little trinket is the last piece from our heritage. With this, our predecessors will always watch over us, sweet girl.” Rowena understood the sentiment now, that it was her last reminder of who she was.
Silvery moon was hanging right above the young lady, as if showing her the right path to walk on. She truly was extraordinary as Agatha Ravenclaw often mentioned. Not only for her powers, or the fact, that everyone sooner or later fell for the strong character yet elegant manners she possessed. Compulsion? Did it have something to do with her powers? Not really. The way you act is not only hereditary, but very much affected by the way your young mind is pushed and pulled on, molded by your parents’ interference. Of course, you will start having your own opinions on how the world works, just remember, that souls are made of many pieces.
Let’s return back to Rowena’s extraordinariness. It is not just her character, that makes people feel that way. Feel special. Sometimes a young lad watches our lady from a distance, but still gets one or two feelings. It is not love, it is not compulsion. She will never acknowledge it herself, but Rowena is a very attractive from many sides and angles you look at her. Of course, by some means, she became woman a long time ago, but mentally? No. She still feels like the little girl dancing in the middle of a flower field. Her mother was playing the homemade flute, and everything was perfect. No soldiers, no witch hunters, no bonfires. Nothing was at stake, figuratively and physically.
Even after her whole life dreaming something would change, she finally admitted to being a woman today.
“Little Raven, my sweet powerful girl. You are by all means extraordinary, but always remember, that something hides in the shadows. It is lurking around, and it is waiting for you to bait. Honey, never take a bigger bite than you can swallow, and promise me one thing: you have to grow to be the strongest and most clever of all. This is probably the last time we speak, come give your mommy a hug.”
Rowena did precisely that. She felt those thin but strong arms around her for just a while, but it felt like forever, and she will never stop cherishing this moment. She engraved it to her heart as a symbol of power, and a reminder, that looks are deceiving.
Because of that, her powers did not go haywire for all the emotions clouding her clear mind, and she survived. She did not run like the child inside was telling her to, but she withstood it like the woman she became. Seeing her mother, the only kind soul in her life, be taken away by the soldiers simply for being the mother of a monster broke something inside of her. But she was that monster and people fear monsters. She melted her grief and anger into steel and fixed the hole in her heart. Maybe being a monster was quite easy if you were ‘extraordinary’.
Now she stood under the full moon at the edge of a lake. The girl was still conflicted. She was the one to kill her mother. Maybe indirectly, but it was still her fault and it hurt so much anyway. Nice silent reflection in the lake was looking back at her. She was not judging with her ocean blue eyes. Not that Rowena has ever seen ocean, but her mother told her that they share the color of it. The girl in the lake was not a monster, but certainly appeared as something, or someone, Rowena should fear.
She slowly extended her arm, touching the water. The ripples blurred her curly black hair and dark eyebrows. She had nice long lashes, almond shape eyes right behind them. The oceanic blue was an exquisite color and many people found it unique. It was so long since she last saw herself, she almost forgot what her adult body looked like. Pretty face with the right angles, nice curves exactly where they should be. Her coloring was a few shades darker than everyone else’s, and that skin color usually caused some commotion. Sometimes, the true opposite happened and people called Rowena ‘exotic’ whatever that meant. She really liked that word ‘exotic’. It rolled of the tongue nicely and it did not feel rude.
She did look rather nice, that is true. Sadly, she already established that the looks not only CAN be deceiving, but they ARE. The true beauty is on the inside, and that Rowena thought to not have. On the other hand, she shared looks with her mother dearest, so it felt insulting to fear her features.
Anyway, Rowena was still on the run, with her mother, or without. The familiar warmth of her powers felt a bit colder this time, but she did not pay it any mind. Maybe it was because she had not really noticed the change, or she consciously decided to ignore the fact. She probably attributed it to the familiar coldness of becoming invisible. Her heart almost stopped. She could feel something, or rather someone getting nearer.
The grass shuffled under her bare feet as the shimmering lake passed by her right side. It was not cold, but she was outside without shoes, standing on the dewy ground. The drops running down her toes felt almost icy in the middle of the night. It hurt and she was running away for quite a while. Something felt weird. The lake should stop some meters ago, but she ran and ran and ran… Or did she?
Oh no!
Oh nononono…
So that is why the lake seemed so long. She was just walking, and maybe even not that. There were voices in her head she just easily ignored and feelings she knew, because this had happened so many times before. Rowena should have recognized the symptoms. It was so obvious, but no, her damn pride interfered. That is the last stage, and she knew. Now everything was fading, loud screeching filling her head.
Last thing she saw before completely losing it was cardinal Charpenter’s heavy coat made from bear skin. He grabbed her by her shoulder, forcing her hands behind her back. She did not fight. How could she, when her mind was falling in the dark pitch of nothingness but disgust targeting herself.
***
The laughing were ringing in her ears. She saw pitchforks, extremely furious people. Were they angry at her? She did not know. She did not want to know. Their faces were just a blur, but she saw enough of the formidable expressions all around her. Overwhelmed by evil smiles, floating around in the darkness, as she lost her consciousness again.
***
She opened her eyes, just to process a young boy with a torch. It was the same boy, that she saw a few weeks ago following her, tracking her body with his eyes as she bathed. What a horrible person. She wished for him to vanish. People were throwing her around like a hay doll or a sack of potatoes. The girl felt hands all over her. One, two, three, four… she counted up to eleven other people trying to get her to the familiar stack of wood. And the emotions overtook her.
***
“Any last words?” cardinal Charpenter asked, fully aware of the state she was in. He just laughed it off when she did not have enough strength to answer. This was it. The End. She felt the rough rope tighten as they tied it to the stake. At least she died with the same honor as her mother. She taught her well. Once again, the young witch thought of the love and life her mother gifted her. After that, for the last time this day, she fainted.
***
Rowena felt strange. She knew the fire is all around her. She could smell it, almost taste it on the tip of her tongue. Why wasn’t she screaming? Why did it not hurt? Easily acknowledgeable fact that she could see right through the licks of flames rising from the charcoaled wood was not recognized from outside of this deadly barrier. The cardinal was smiling, like he did not just set aflame a twenty-year-old girl. People were dancing and singing, just feeling happy, like the smell of a burning human did not stink out the air for at least a week. Well, it actually maybe did not, since Rowena was fully aware of her surroundings, and nothing was happening to her?
Did she use her powers again? Unconsciously this time? The bad feeling inside her started to grow again. She truly was a monster, being able to withstand that kind of fire. What will the people say, when all the wood is gone, and she just walks away, reborn like a phoenix, rising from the ashes. But that was just a fairytale Agatha told to the young witch when she was just a youngling. Her powers were absolutely disgusting. She was horrible. She should have died. Just like her, like mother. She deserved it for letting mama die for her.
The disgust inside was feeding of her grief and fear. It was rising and rising, until it hit a critical point. Rowena could feel that something horrible was crying inside her for It to be released. It was not in liking for It to be caged. Slowly swallowing bits and pieces of the magic residing inside her. And when her disgust finally reached the highest amount it could. Then, It broke free.
The disgust was replaced by unrelenting rage. And she was out of her body, watching what was happening just as a spectator of some horror scene. Rowena saw It ripping limbs, ripping people apart. She saw blood and intestines, some bones and even a bit of cerebrospinal fluid. It hurt everything standing in the way and people did not even register something was happening until it was too late. Mothers were trying to hide away their babies. Warriors were trying to fight It. All without a success.
There was but one person, without even a scratch. The man that was spying on her days and weeks ago. Rowena could not comprehend why this particular one was given mercy. The realization slapped her in the face. It was not going to spare him, really, it was the other way around. It killed and tortured everyone for the man to see what was inevitably coming his way.
The massacre continued for hours. The boy unable to move being frozen by horror. He was just sitting there in his own piss, puke and also some blood. Forced to watch how It slowly killed all the living. The young witch saw something beautiful in the horrors, even as she wanted to turn to the side and just cry all her rage out. But it was impossible, and she felt extremely conflicted, seeing the monstrous beauty in death. Every time she tried, It would make her look through Its eyes and that was even worse than being a spectator. Instead, she was looking at the man. All those times she saw him, her senses were somehow clouded, but suddenly, everything easily cleared out. Like she was on a drug that immediately left her system. He was not just some random creep. Oh no, it was much better.
He had strawy hair, round face and his usual smirk was replaced by the expression of terror only for her to understand. Because the cardinal knew, that she somehow released the beast. Her power was unstoppable.
Rowena’s rage has completely taken over her, accompanied by smugness, that she felt at the taste of the sweet, sweet revenge. Her head turned unnaturally, which made Charpenter freeze again. The view her physical beauty plus the elegant, yet too long and animated moves must have provided made the cardinal even more cynical about his survival. He could almost feel the dark aura of It. Cowering in fear, the boy was looking straight at Rowena, ignoring the beast coming closer. Howerever she looked at it something was very strange in the peircing gaze pinned on her.
Wait, was he not able to see It?