Prophecy of Three

by Ashley McLeo

  Lily blinked, unsure what to make of the fact.

  Sara grinned slyly, and raised her voice loud enough for the others to hear. “Seeing as they’re books and can’t move, they have to find a sedentary way to occupy their time. The one thing books have going for them is they know a lot of words, tone, and voice, so they sing.” Sara lowered her ear to the floor, and Lily’s eyes widened as she followed suit.

  She held her breath, waiting, praying for the slightest noise. Come on now, don’t be shy. You’ve had years to practice, she thought trying to coax sound from the ground.

  All the air flew from her lungs as music rose up from the depths.

  The song was quiet, timid even, as if unsure if its audience would abandon it on the first pitchy notes. Lily smiled and rubbed the wood floor soothingly. The song grew louder and stronger.

  “Is that?” Evelyn whispered, her head cocked to one side.

  Eyes filling with tears, Lily lifted her ear from the floor and the song followed, swelling into the room, loud enough for all to hear. It was, she thought, the most haunting of melodies. A tune from a different time and culture, whose message nevertheless rang clear.

  Bring me home.

  They found their treasure seven feet below the floorboards, attached to the fine dead tendrils of the magical oak’s deepest roots. Its thirty thin pages were still stitched together and bound by a leather cover no larger than a birthday card. It was impeccably preserved, tiny pockmarks from the roots being the only indication of wear.

  “How is it so clean?” Sara noted with a tone of admiration. “It’s been down there twenty-one years but looks brand new.”

  “We know from speaking with Bahiti’s predecessor that Hypatia hid the book in space and time. It appears those factors have been protecting it until the right person found it. Until Lily, the firstborn of the three, was ready to find it. Neither space nor time have dirt, sun, or even air, all of which assist in decomposition. Hypatia was a brilliant witch to have hidden it so skillfully,” Aoife explained, turning the book over in her hands before holding it out to Lily. “You were fated to find it. You should read it.”

  Lily shook her head. It didn’t feel right. If these last few months had taught her anything, it was to trust her intuition, no matter how small the moment seemed. While she had found the book, she couldn’t claim first dibs on all its secrets.

  “Mary should read it. She’s spent the most time researching. She’s the only reason we know anything at all about fata or the sisters. Will you read it to us, Mary?”

  In the Beginning

  Written faithfully in the words of Esther,

  daughter of Seraphina, witch, and

  first scribe of Seraphina’s tale.

  * * *

  Transcribed from memory by Hypatia of Alexandria

  after the burning of the Alexandrian Library

  I, Esther, daughter of Seraphina, claim this story for the witches, progeny of humans and fata. I promise to protect and preach it for all my long years. To pass it down to my own daughters. If all goes as I intend, my family story will survive, not only through my own efforts and documentation, but whispered in the night by the softly moving lips of a mother to her child, much as Seraphina, my own mother, spoke of her homeland.

  It took many years before I, her first daughter, realized those whimsical bedtime tales I loved so much were not only for my entertainment. My mother’s secret slipped out not through her mouth, but with a look. Tears often filled her eyes when she regaled us with stories of the plants, animals, and fata of Hecate. I was nearing my fifteenth year before I worked up the courage to ask the question burning in my heart, knowing it would be improper for me to marry whilst I still believed in children’s tales.

  “Is Hecate real?” I asked my mother as we prepared the evening meal. I tried my best to act as if my heart would not break if she denied the existence of the land I’d come to love.

  “As real as you and me and the earth beneath our feet.”

  Her answer shocked me, though why I cannot say. How did I not see that we were different? That my mother, her sisters, my cousins and I aged more slowly than the humans around us. That we would live far, far longer than any other human we knew. That we were beings of two worlds.

  Many human lifetimes later, on the brink of my own death, I see those bedtime tales were my mother's way of handing over our history, in the only way a child naive to boundless worlds and beings amongst the stars could understand. From the day I questioned Hecate’s existence on, my mother spoke plainly with me about her and her sisters’ lives since journeying to Earth.

  Alas, I digress. It is difficult not to want my own story told, but this is my mother’s tale. A tale pieced together from visceral memories she inserted into my body seconds before the mist of her dying pneuma disappeared into the ether, from my own life, forever. My mother instructed me never to lose the record of her memories. To bind it to our family, our blood, and those who carry it for the day when those of Earth have use of it: When the three sisters of Hecate rise once more to defend the weaker creatures around them.

  Always Seraphina’s dutiful daughter, I do as my mother says, and pass our family story to you.

  Seraphina’s Tale

  In the beginning, there was Hecate. Lilith, Eve, and Seraphina, my mother, were born there. They flew over Hecate’s crimson forests that grew smaller with each passing year. They swam down to the depths of the lone sea, devoid of life and littered with rocks. They explored the land as if it was their birthright, because it was. They were the daughters of Dimia, the fata king of Hecate.

  Dimia encouraged his daughters to use their magic regularly—a fact that displeased his subjects as much as the decree that banned all but himself and other hand-picked nobles from siring children. While Dimia’s limitations angered most of his subjects, they were nothing if not practical. But how could others understand that when only Dimia and the ancient ones knew the truth? That Hecate, the fata’s source of all magical ability, was dying.

  This may sound strange to you. I know it did to me. How can a planet die? Life on a flourishing planet can limit your views on the matter. My mother suspected that Hecate had lost its magic due to the overpopulation of fata. You see, for every fata born, Hecate supplies a pneuma, a bit of magic from her core, so that they may thrive. Only when a fata dies can Hecate regain her power. Herein lies the problem, as the fata of Hecate live for thousands of years. Seraphina believed that Hecate had begun to cling more strongly to her stores of magic causing each generation of fata to be born weaker than the last. The fata had outgrown their home and were paying the price.

  My mother, Lilith, and Eve were different. They were born strong and full of magic. Dimia spoke of how Hecate had chosen to bless them, and he saw to it they had the best of everything. Tutors were sought for each speciality of magic. Soon the triplets outpaced even the most revered ancients. Dimia enforced no limitations on his daughters, allowing them to fly or swim in domains of Hecate he had forbidden to his subjects, lest other fata discover that Dimia had been hiding the truth of Hecate’s demise for fear of being overthrown.

  One day, Dimia’s youngest seneschal, Noro, returned from his travels. Noro had the unique ability to send forth his pneuma (what the people of Earth would call a soul) to explore the heavens, often for years at a time. It was the one attribute keeping him at The Crystal Court. Noro’s travels left his dark navy body incapacitated on Hecate, and no more than a ghost on the planet he explored. Most at court thought this talent amusing for the stories it produced but largely useless, just like Noro himself.

  Noro, too, knew of Hecate’s decline, though not because Dimia had confided in him. Noro had practiced his talent in secret for years before begging for a position at The Crystal Court. In his years of practice, Noro had seen Hecate’s dying forests and seas through his pneuma. He realized what the destruction meant and saw it as his chance for advancement. Only once he could send his pneuma successfully into the heav
ens did Noro approach the court. He called himself a storyteller, and upon receiving a position, promptly set out to find a new planet for the fata under the guise of collecting material for court tales. He desired for once to be a hero, rather than a joke. Decades later, he had succeeded.

  In a meeting with Dimia, Lilith, Eve, and Seraphina, Noro spoke of a planet with forests full and green, vast oceans teeming with life, and thousands of creatures. It was the most Hecate-like planet he had ever found. Despite his lack of body with which to experience its limits, Noro believed the new planet, which he’d named Earth, could provide magic for the fata as Hecate once did.

  Dimia recognized Earth as a chance to save the fata and his reputation. He took it.

  “I am sending you three, my strongest subjects, in the hope that you will find a way for the weakest of us to survive,” Dimia proclaimed in his usual sweeping manner to Seraphina and her sisters. And that was that.

  Dimia and Noro hatched a plan both impressive and dangerous. Lilith, Eve, and Seraphina were to create a magical portal between the worlds, the likes of which had never been seen, and travel through it. Noro would provide directions and visuals on how to get there so that they may construct it correctly. Once they arrived, Dimia’s daughters would scout Earth for a time and report their findings to Noro’s pneuma, which could be seen and communicate on other worlds. Dimia hoped that in time all fata would move to Earth. If they could absorb the planet’s power, they might once again equal the ancients in magical prowess.

  The plan shocked the fata triplets, Lilith most of all, for Lilith loved Hecate the best. Eve proposed to leave immediately. She desired nothing more than to please Dimia. Seraphina fell somewhere in between. She adored Hecate and her fellow fata, yet desired adventure. She hoped to find it in this new place. That was, if they could even survive once they got there.

  Therein lay one of the many risks. As Noro’s pneuma—which, like all pneumas, can live in nearly any condition as long as the fata’s body is safe and the pneuma itself is not punctured—had been the only part of him to make the journey, he was unsure if fata would be able to survive away from Hecate bodily.

  Despite their reservations, the day came when they were to leave. Seraphina often said creating a portal between Hecate and their new home was more difficult than they imagined. Lilith, in a true mark of bravery, leapt into the void first, connecting the planets as she went. Eve followed, waving a merry goodbye to Dimia and Noro as she disappeared into blackness. Seraphina sealed the portal as she left, pulling the end of it with her through space.

  The sisters’ arrival was as undignified as one could imagine. The pit of mud they landed in was vast, full of the bones of small animals, and smelled of death. But they were alive and that was a good sign.

  They traveled for days, stopping to examine new plants and animals. The sisters noticed that many animals could not fly, as was typical on Hecate. Most land dwellers did not appreciate their floating up to meet them, often running off before the sisters could introduce themselves. In an effort to be more approachable, the sisters adopted a mode of moving that involved skimming their bottom limbs along the ground. In this way the fata sisters learned to walk like the animals of Earth.

  Mere weeks after their arrival, Lilith made a startling discovery. She had come across the first animal not to balk or run at her approach. It walked on two feet and was hairless, unlike most creatures of Earth. She had found a man named Adam. To Lilith’s great surprise, Adam took to her airy green fata form, unlike any other creature. Within minutes of their meeting it became clear to Lilith that Adam could think and communicate in a manner similar to fata. After having only her sisters to communicate with for weeks, Lilith found this creature, Adam, exciting. She introduced him to Eve and Seraphina, and Adam reciprocated in kind with his tribe.

  From that time forward my mother and her sisters were never without the companionship of humans. They moved across the land with them, adopted human language, and learned to take on their shape. Soon enough, they began to love them. And once the fata sisters had absorbed and familiarized themselves with Earth’s magic, they discovered they could bear the children of men.

  Lilith and Adam were the first to have a family of five boys and three girls. Adam proved enamored with Lilith, and Lilith loved Adam more than her own life.

  My mother assumed she too would chose a man one day, but in the meantime, she spent her days experimenting with the vast magic reservoirs of Earth and developing potions. Seraphina discovered she had partiality for magic born of fire. That no such substance was known on Hecate could not have delighted her more. Eve began pulling prodigious power from the streams and lakes they passed in their travels, while Lilith connected best with the magic derived from the land itself. The more they played with the powers born of their new home, the stronger they became.

  As the years passed, Eve began to feel hindered by the small tribe they’d settled with. Despite the offers of marriage that had poured forth when she crafted a human form of ample pale curves, piercing blue eyes, and gold hair out of her sapphire fata body, Eve had not found a mate in their tribe. It was because of Eve’s restlessness and both Eve’s and Seraphina’s desires to find mates that they decided to leave the tribe.

  Lilith sobbed at the news but could not deny their decision. “I wish you both to find the same happiness I have,” she said, grasping Eve’s hands in her own. “In truth you are doing our kind a great service by leaving. We haven’t seen much, have we? Father will want to make sure the whole planet is safe before sending the fata here.”

  Lilith made them promise to return to her one day. Eve and Seraphina agreed, all the while knowing how flimsy their word was in this unknown land.

  Eve and Seraphina left laden with herbs and plants with which they could make potions to trade. They walked over forested mountains and through desolate deserts, exploring the land. No matter where they traveled, the sisters never ceased to garner the attention of other humans—especially men, who seemed drawn to Eve’s golden hair and sky-colored eyes.

  It began the same in every camp. Eve stole the attentions of men and my mother placated their women for her sister’s poor behavior by offering potions to cure their woes. Once Seraphina’s potions proved successful, the women found it easier to turn their eyes from Eve’s coquettish nature. Often they even shared their own healing secrets with Seraphina. In this way she became known as Seraphina the wandering healer, a designation she relished.

  Throughout their travels the sisters heard tales of a never-ending body of water. They’d been on course to see it for years, stopping and living with various tribes for months at a time. What the tribes of the forests, plains, and deserts said was true: The moment Seraphina and Eve saw the great shimmering blue expanse was unlike any other in their travels.

  “Here is where I will find a worthy man,” Eve proclaimed, staring wide eyed at the village before the blue unknown.

  Though the women on the sea’s edge had no natural magic in the way of fata, they were advanced in the applications of herbs and potions for healing. A veritable cornucopia of plants grew along the water’s edge, and the sea women made use of them all. Because of this, Seraphina was happy to settle along the blue expanse.

  Eve was happy too, though for very different reasons, the first of which was her power. Along the banks of the sea, Eve’s magic grew unthinkably strong. Her ability to pull power from the water’s unknowable depths gave Eve a vitality Seraphina had never before seen in a fata, let alone her sister, who had been the weakest of the three on Hecate. The villages along the sea also supplied a great deal of happy distraction for Eve as the men here loved her more than any others. Eve frolicked and flirted shamelessly, making no attempt to hide her affairs while she searched for a mate.

  To everyone’s surprise, Seraphina was the first to choose a mate in the bustling seaside village. She adored Seth, my father, and he adored my mother in return. They built a joyful life and family together, until it wa
s taken too soon by death, as all human lives are.

  The day my father drowned, all my mother’s happiness shattered. Seth as a man nearing forty shouldn’t have been out on the water as the waves swelled above his head, but he was a provider with mouths to feed. Seraphina felt great guilt for the rest of her days for allowing him to do so. Especially as she could have called fish from the sea with a crook of her finger.

  During their years in the village by the sea, Eve grew increasingly unhappy with her inability to find a mate that pleased her for longer than a day or two. She brought up the idea of seeking Lilith a week after Seth’s death. It was an idea Eve had been suggesting on and off for years, and for once Seraphina agreed. My mother was no longer able to bear the familiar sights, sounds, and people that reminded her of my father.

  Eve, Seraphina, myself, and my younger sisters departed two weeks later. Had my mother and Eve been human, we would likely never have found Lilith’s nomadic tribe. But then, they were not human at all.

  Lilith wept at the sight of her sisters and hugged her nieces, ecstatic to meet her newest family members.

  Seraphina noted much had changed in the years she’d been gone. Lilith, like Seraphina and Eve, looked the same, but time had ravaged the faces of their friends. Lilith had become the primary provider for her family, and stress was beginning to show in her union with Adam. She admitted she and Adam had been quarreling for some time. Neither my mother nor Lilith saw anything unusual with that but Eve was of another mind. She judged that if Lilith had not bonded herself to a man so quickly, if she’d gone to the great sea with her sisters, she’d know better how to please a man.

  Eve, my mother often said, had always been envious of Lilith’s ability to know what she wanted and develop deep relationships.