The Witch Council (II)

The rest interpret her shudder as a sign of disgust for the demons and they burst into raucous laughter. “Do you all think this is funny? There is a possible threat to the peace we currently enjoy and you can still cackle like old hags?” Sandara asks, stupefied at their actions.

“Don’t insult our intelligence, Sandra,” Herschey, the Silver Witch of the West remarks. Sandara simply rolls her eyes at the witch’s intentional mispronunciation of her name. She is too smart to be drawn in by such taunts.

“Pray to tell me, o shrew, how I insulted your intelligence,” she responds, looking the witch in the eye. “Why, you!” Herschey exclaims, rising up in anger. “Remember that attacking a fellow council member is expressly forbidden,” Evanora, the Silver Witch of the East chips in. “But she provoked me first!” “She did not attack you, Witch of the West. Restrain yourself and maintain some semblance of decorum, at least.” “This isn’t fair.” Herschey’s voice is full of grievances, especially as she notices Sandara chuckling. However, she doesn’t do anything.

All the witches in the Witch council are at least three centuries old. However, none are as old as Evanora. Her exact age is unknown, but the High Witch knows that she is quite old. This is because her mother called Evanora ‘master’ while she was alive, and her mother was over a thousand years old. The witch does not try to prove her seniority, but every member of the council respects her. Her words, few and far in-between, are never disregarded.

“I would advise everyone to be alert. Maybe we do not have substantive proof of the demons’ incursion. Perhaps it is simply a false alarm; the hallucinations of a dying witch can be a very tricky thing. Still, let us not relax or lose guard. We must keep preparing for the inevitable, as they will surely return, even if it is not now. In the absence of any other issue, I raise a motion for the adjournment of this meeting.”

“That tradition is old news now if you must know. Nowadays, no one cares for a motion. They simply say ’That’s all then. Bye peeps’ and swagger out of the venue like they own half the street,” Sandara says, as she approaches the High Witch minutes after the meeting ends. “Are you sure that’s what they say, or have you been around teenagers for too long?”

“You can’t blame me, sister. I practically live amongst them.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Nothing. Can’t I talk to my lovely sister?”

“Now I’m sure you really want something. I’m only your lovely sister when you want to get something from me. Most of the time, I’m an old hag, a stuck-up bitch, a buzzing fly, a withered vessel…”

“Aw, come on! I only called you a withered vessel one time!”

“Really?” the High Witch raises an eyebrow. “Why do I remember you telling a particular someone to not be bothered by the unintelligible whisperings of a withered vessel the other day?”

“You were spying on us! That’s a violation of privacy, you know. I feel so naked now.”

“Puh-lease! I bathed you for three decades, and I’ve seen you nude plenty of times after that.”

The Jade Witch blushes, with the tips of her ears turning a bright red. She immediately changes the subject.

“Since you can so conveniently spy on us, why don’t you just drop by to say hello to her? She misses you a lot, you know.”

“I can’t and you know why. If that’s what you came to ask me for, you might as well give up. I won’t change my mind.”

The High Witch walks away, but the next words from Sandara make her pause. “I thought really hard about the question you asked me, and I realized that it took me so long to answer because I chose to be bound by the limits of normal convention. I don’t have to choose between my family and my duty because my family is my duty. Why choose one when I can have both?”

The High Witch doesn’t reply, but the slight trembling of her shoulders show how affected she is by that answer. She takes a moment to get herself together, squares her shoulders and says “It’s easier said than done. Goodbye, sister.”

With that, she vanishes.

“You’ve done your best, child. There’s nothing more you can do for her.” Evanora’s wiry voice sounds in Sandara’s ears, but it brings no relief. “C-c-can’t she sees what she’s doing to the poor girl? Doesn’t she feel anything for her?”

“Witches are not one for filial piety or emotional attachment; powerful witches see their offspring as tools for even more power. But I know that Estelle Vane is not one of them. The love she has for that child is greater than you can ever imagine.”

“Then why doesn’t she show her? Why doesn’t she tell her? Why do I have to be the one consoling her? Why?” Sandara is nothing like the strong witch she was moments ago. Now, she sounds like a lost, miserable girl.

“We must not let our emotions get the better of us, child.”

“I’m not a child!”

“You are a child as far as I’m concerned. You will always be a child to me. Now, if you’re done throwing tantrums, there are more pressing issues at hand, like the probable attack of demons.”

“You thought of it too? Why didn’t you say anything in the meeting? You understand what is at stake here. We stand to lose everything.”

“I have my reasons, but you can be assured that I do not wish for the destruction of our kind.”

“Then why did you…”

Evanora cuts her short. “Time can make the sharpest of blades blunt, and prolonged peace can turn the most powerful witches into silly women. The cycle of peace is nearing its end; war is imminent, whether I speak out or not.”