Chapter one

She shot up in her narrow bed, her big blue eyes startled gazed into the dark. Her breathing was fast, because of the fear she still felt. Her red hair stuck to her forehead from sweating. Her hand felt for the light switch of the fencer lamp, next to her bed. A reassuring light dispelled the darkness.

Margje threw off the covers and felt the coolness of the outside air on her warm, sweaty legs. She got up and walked to the window, which was wide open, and let in the early morning chill. Slowly her breathing calmed down. That dream again! That nightmare! She went to the bathroom and turned on the light. She could still see the traces of panic on her face and gave another deep sigh.

She turned on the tap and dabbed her face with the cold water. A sip of water from a tall glass and she was completely grounded again. She took the glass to her bed and set it on the gray bedside table next to her alarm clock. Four in the morning!

She felt herself cool off from the morning mist and slid under the duvet again. What a dream! But again the same! And everyone told her that dreams were a fraud, but it didn't feel like that. It felt so real! Suddenly her eyes were drawn to a scrape on her forearm because it stung.

It hadn't been there yet when she went to sleep. Besides, it looked fresh, red, and stuffed, as if she had just scraped herself.

But it couldn't.

In her mind, she saw again how, in her dream, in the dark, she had gone down a staircase and entered a large black room. It smelled musty and she was convinced it was some sort of cellar. Suddenly a sound came right up to her and this set her in motion up the stairs. There she scraped her arm against the rough stone wall as she went up the stairs. But that had been in the dream! Margje frantically searched in her memory for another explanation. Maybe she had just scraped herself on the bathroom wall. It had to be, what else? Nobody could dream that real! She turned off the night light and crawled deep under the covers. She got hurt in the bathroom. So it was. And with that certainty, she went to sleep.

Her alarm clock rang loudly. She awoke with a shock. It was morning already. With a sigh, she flung her legs out of bed and got up. It was a beautiful day, the birds were already whistling and the sky was  blue. Margje gathered her clothes, simple bleached jeans, and a light blue shirt. She quickly washed her face, brushed her teeth, and tied her long red hair. Up close, she saw in the bathroom mirror that her freckles were multiplying again. She sighed, that was the downside of the summer. And being a redhead, well, it didn't really matter to Margje. She was quite proud of her red head of hair. It was rare. In the past, it had been a thing and also carrot red.As she got older, a darker glow came to her hair and slightly reduced the intensity of the color.

She put on her worn-out sneakers and Margje ran down the stairs. "Good morning dad."Her father had already set the table and was looking up at her from behind his newspaper. "Goodmorning sweetheart. Slept well?'

'Yes of course.'Something in her voice made her father put down the newspaper and his brown eyes studied her.

"Dreamed again?"

Margje frowned in surprise.

"I thought I heard you in the bathroom very early this morning," he confessed.

For a moment Margje considered telling him extensively about her frightening night. Her thoughts were disturbed, however, by the sound of loud, fast footsteps on the stairs. The slamming of the front door, which was immediately opened again. Then her older brother's sleepy face appeared just around the corner from the room door.

She heard him growl fromI’m too late and see you soon, he withdrew his head and moments later the front door slammed shut behind him again. The sound of his footsteps quickly faded. "Anyway, he's on his way to school," her father said, shaking his head in confusion.

Just get up when you allready had to be gone for school, was something he couldn't understand, Margje  slowly spread a biscuit, she had plenty of time. She had finished her exams, so it was already summer vacation for her. She had set her alarm because she wanted to do all kinds of things that day, and the weather was nice. "I don't know exactly what time I will be home tonight, are you going to do the shopping and cooking? And don't forget to get some fresh herbal tea from grandma, very important, "her father said.

"Hm," Margje replied with her mouth full of biscuit crumbs and nodded furiously.

"There's something on your arm," her father said and walked away. Margje nodded and looked at her forearm, assuming it was about her scrape. She saw only a few rusk crumbs, not a single scrape was visuele.

Margje enjoyed the beautiful weather. She cycled into town. The birds in the park whistled as she drove through. She liked that so much about the city where she lived, there was a lot of nature in the area, so close to home.

From the park, she ended up on the asphalted entrance to the city, turned right after the level crossing, and suddenly realized that she was going to see Grandma first. She continued cycling until she reached the train station, which dates back to 1883. She had a thing for old buildings and had to wait before crossing the road. She felt a kind of energy again, which caught her attention. It was almost as if she could still hear the people who had passed the train station over the years. So weird.

A car horn took her out of her trance and she crossed the road. Stationsstraat was just as old as the train station and had been the grand entrance to the city in 1883.

Her grandmother lived in one of the houses there, which in earlier times belonged to the elite and still somewhat did. She swung open the cast iron garden gate that squeaked loudly and rode her bicycle inside. The gravel crunched under her feet.Margje knew that Grandma was usually busy in the garden and immediately walked on. The shed door was open and connected to the backyard. The scent of lilacs tickled her nose as she entered the garden.

'Grandma?'

At the back of the garden, she noticed a figure bent over the herb garden.

'Grandma?Omem?’

The woman looked up questioningly, looking much younger than her grandmother's status suggested, her blue eyes gliding around searchingly.

"Margje!"

Grandma, who in the language of the Frisians was called oare mem, other mother, responded to the corruption that her grandchildren once made of it. She hugged Margje with a firm hug and looked at her questioningly. "Is there any particular reason you are stopping by, other than that your supply of herbal tea is running low?" Margje sighed and wanted to deny it, she knew that Grandma could see further than what was visible. Just as she had always noticed that her herbal tea was running low without saying so.

"It's about my nightmares again. I have them more and more and then I wake up bathed in sweat. They seem so real and tonight. "Her grandmother, reassuringly, put her hand on Margje's arm, interrupting the flow of words.

"Come on, let's go in. First a cup of tea. "

Margje sighed and smiled. Her grandmother always had a special way of taking the focus off the woes. She followed her grandmother in through the French doors. In the small kitchen, Grandma put a large black kettle on the stove. She rummaged in a drawer to find the right herbal tea. She muttered something to herself and looked at Margje.

"A cup of lemon balm officinalia will do you good."

"Lemon balm?" responded Margje immediately, "that's good." She knew it also had a calming effect.

"So tell me in the meantime what exactly is going on in your nightmares." Grandma put the steaming mug of tea on the old table with the old wooden top that Margje's grandfather had once made. So many stories had already been told. Margje sighed deeply.

"I keep dreaming that I am descending a staircase that goes down from a wall somewhere. It is pitch dark and I really don't know where I am. Sometimes I am already downstairs and try to explore the area by touch. Now and then something comes straight to me with a terrible noise. "She looked at her grandmother quizzically.

"Maybe I need some of your herbal tea to avoid the nightmares?"

"You've been dreaming this for a while, dear. What is it that makes you so tense now? "Grandma put her hands on Margje's slightly trembling hands. "You know omem, sometimes it is all just real. I can still smell and feel everything when I wake up. "Margje herself stopped the flow of words abruptly.

She took a deep breath before she spoke more calmly about the scrape on her arm. "This morning the scrape was gone! Sometimes I think I'm going crazy! "All at once her frustration and fear came out. She looked at her grandmother, whom she looked so much like. Certainly, if she looked at the pictures of her grandmother at her age. The same red hair and the same blue eyes. And the radiance was almost the same, though omem's features had softened over the years. Omem was also one of the few people who understood her.

"Margje." Omem looked straight at her. "You're not a crazy girl, really." Margje suddenly saw a kind of strange sparkle in her blue eyes. "You have to wait a little longer, child. Patience. Soon you will turn eighteen and then it will all be clear. "

"What then omem? Why don't you say what's wrong? Do you know why I have those dreams? And what about when I'm only eighteen? "

Grandma patted her hand reassuringly, but did not intend to expand further, Margje saw. "Patience dear. Patience. "

Footsteps sounded on the gravel, the sound of a sliding barn door, and Raven's tall, muscular body became visible. As always, he was wearing ripped black jeans and a band shirt. His black hair was shaved and he wore a long lock of hair on top, which he fashioned with his hand countless times in a day. From left to right, even though he had the lock hidden under a black hat at that time. His bright blue eyes looked into the world in an inquiring and suspicious way. He raised his eyebrows as a greeting to Margje and kissed Omem on her head.

'Hi.'

Short, as he usually was.

Omem laughed and pushed him away.

"I am not a child Raven, kissing you on the head." Raven's eyes glittered in amusement.

"A little bit of granny."

He picked up a mug, poured hot water into it, and rummaged in Omem's spice cupboard. He found what he was looking for, smelled it, and nodded in satisfaction. Shove at the old kitchen table and looked at Margje. "What's up red?" Margje sighed.

"Nothing metalhead," she heard herself say very harsh.

But Raven smiled disarmingly.

"Then why are you bothering  omem?" He asked in a teasing tone.

'How so?'

"I can see it on your face and feel it in your energy. Something is bothering you. "It didn't sound like a question, but more like a statement. Raven blew into the mug and seemed to enjoy the smell that arose.

Margje looked at him. She had only known Raven for a few years. Suddenly he had appeared in her life as if it were a matter of course. She had met him for the first time at Omem, who often had young people over. Omem had a soft spot for young people in need and Margje assumed he was just one of them. After that, he invariably popped up somewhere in her neighborhood and they became friends. She felt at ease with him and couldn't even imagine what life would have been like without him.

"My nightmares are more severe," she said fiercely. "They are almost real!"

Did Omem and Raven exchange a look of understanding or did she not see it properly?

"Intense," responded Raven.

She studied him. 'That is it? Intense?'

"What do you want me to say?"

Raven raised his eyebrows questioningly. "It is not only fierce Raven! It's terrifying, creepy! "

"Wow." Raven made a dismissive gesture, "that's just bad Margje!"

"Sorry." Her explosion, however, cleared the air, intense fearful energy was dissipated. She told him of her scrape, which she had seen on her forearm, after the nightmare that seemed so real.

"Yes, that's creepy," Raven agreed with a serious look in his bright blue eyes.

Omem got up and frowned at Raven for a moment. "I'm going to work in the garden for a while, young people." And she put her words into action.

"Omem knows more about it," said Margje and looked after her grandmother. "She told me to wait until my eighteenth birthday and then it'll be clear."

"That is very creepy Margje!"

The way he said that made her laugh. And that was also one of his virtues. He always made her laugh. She got up, felt that her energy had lightened, it cleared up. 'I'm leaving. I still have to run errands. "She disappeared walking around the corner from the house.

"And cook! She called.

He looked after her with a special feeling in his body. It became restless, that happened more and more when he saw her. He saw Moon, as Omem was called, hoeing in the herb bed in the garden and drank the last bit of his tea. He had to find peace, he was broken. Raven ran up the two flights of stairs to the top floor, where he had a room. He turned on his music system and fell onto his bed.

Fatigue suddenly passed through his body as he relaxed. Heavy metal music filled the room and he closed his eyes for a moment. He disappeared for a moment in the fierce rhythm of the music. Thinking and feeling nothing for a while, just that bass in his body. Double life took its toll. In his mind, he went back for a moment to that night in which he had taken a girl from one place to another in the dark. Another secret rescue mission that Omem always asked him for.

The memory of that girls gratitude hug was still very vivid. How she had pressed her mouth to his. Raven smiled at the memory and took a deep breath. Maybe he should take a long, cold shower first. Because that redhead also forced himself into his head. With a deep sigh, he got up and turned off the music. His clothes stayed where he took them off. Then he walked to the bathroom down the hall in a bath towel. There he saw in the mirror all kinds of scratches and bruises on his back. He understood why lying on his back was so uncomfortable.

After a long shower, Raven fell tiredly on his stomach on the messy bed and soon fell into a deep sleep. He had an incoherent dream and suddenly it was about Margje and he wanted to take her in his strong arms, to give her a good kiss.

"Raven!" He opened his eyes with a start.

Omem was suddenly in his room and woke him up crying out, that deep, confusing sleep.

"Yes, what?" His voice was still hoarse from being suddenly awakened. And he got up with difficulty because his muscles were still protesting that strange sleeping position.

"Sorry Raven, we need your help again, there are still some people in danger." Moon bent down and held an ointment in her hand that she had made herself with herbs and strengthened with a Wicca spell.

 "Wait a minute, boy, I’ll rub your wounds first."

The cool ointment on his back felt good until he realized he was only clothed in a towel. He felt very uncomfortable. Omem smiled and stood up.

"I'm going down, see you in a minute."

He nodded. He quickly put on his boxer shorts, the work trousers, and a black shirt, socks, soldier's shoes, and ready.

The kitchen smelled of hot food and Raven felt his hunger. Omem had already served him a plate, which he consumed with taste but in a hurry.

"It's three people in need this time," she explained to him.

He nodded, there seemed to be more and more who needed his help. She told him where to go and what the purpose of that rescue was. She gave him an amulet and a spice bag to help him with his duties.

"Be careful," she said, looking at him with concern.

"I always am," he replied, smiling.

"Raven I mean it."

He saw the serious look in her blue eyes and nodded in agreement.

"I'll be as careful as I can," he promised and made his way to the basement.

It was morning again when Raven had just returned home. That time he looked like he'd crawled through the mud and that's how he smelled. A girl who didn't look much better had come with him.

"Moon, Roosmarijn. Roosmarijn Moon. "

He didn't say much more about it and left her with Moon. He ran upstairs for a shower. The warmth of the rays was a blessing to his muscles, which had been very endured in the last days. He stood there for a moment with his eyes closed, enjoying. Then he walked to his room and put on his boxers. His room door opened softly. "I just wanted to thank you," said Roosmarijn, running her eyes over his body, which was still steaming from the warm jets of water.

He nodded. 'That's okay.'

She closed the door softly and kept looking at him.

She too had been showered. He saw the water still dripping a little from her long blond hair.

He rose and was wrathful over her with his tall appearance. "I said it was okay," he said gently and wanted to open the room door to get her out.

Suddenly she put her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. She kissed his mouth passionately and pushed herself against him. For a moment he was speechless and felt his reaction to her reflexively. She pushed him against the bed, causing him to fall back and land on top of him. Then, she kissed him again with great passion. He grabbed her arms and broke free from her embrace.

"A thank you would have been enough," he grumbled, getting up, helped her up, and pushed her out of the room. He locked the door and sat on the edge of the bed. My God, some of the women were very fierce in their thanks, they always managed to stir his passion! He felt a longing running through his long body.

It suddenly made him think of Margje.

She always entered his head somehow. Raven turned on the stereo to put his focus elsewhere. He looked out the window and saw the bright sun in the bright blue sky.

He knew it was getting warm again that day. And that sleeping was probably not going to be much. That redhead, with those many freckles and those blue eyes that sometimes looked at him so indignantly. She was there again, upsetting him. He hit the music system button again, those thoughts didn't really help calm him down either.

Raven lay down and it took a long time before he fell into a deep, restless sleep. It wasn't until the early evening that he woke up with muscles that protested loudly when he moved and real hunger. Maybe it was an idea to go back to the sports center more often, he thought and quickly dressed.

He ran downstairs for a plate of hot food, and the smell was already reaching him halfway up the stairs. Roosmarijn also sat at the table and kept looking at him from across her plate. When he caught her eye, she smiled seductively. Raven understood that he was attractive to the women and girl he rescued, so he was kind of a hero. He always neatly dismissed their attention, although that was not the easiest thing to be asked of him. He was a healthy boy after all. But he knew the magic rule.

No sex before your 21st birthday. A witch or mage had to be able to develop her or his full potential. For this, it was necessary to keep one's own energy as pure as possible.The energy was mixed with sex, at least with penetration. Now you could still work around that, using your hands or mouth, but that was actually prohibited. Total abstinence was required of you. If it was all too difficult, there was the option of using an anti-love elixir that was very powerful and dampened the passion. He regularly got a bottle of that stuff from Moon. She always gave it to him, with a warning look in her eyes.

Raven had finished eating and went to the library, followed closely by Roosmarijn. He looked at her and took a deep breath. All her energy was focused on him, he could feel it.

"Roosmarijn, I'm not interested," he said again to be clear.

For a moment a disappointed look flew across her face.

"Do you have a girlfriend then?" She asked.

That was one such question that he was always asked. He knew that if he reacted negatively to that, he would be chased for the rest of the time. As if he could be persuaded to make love to them in an alternative way, which was actually not allowed. That time he took a different tack.

'Yes.'

"I don't believe it," said Roosmarijn, "where is she then? If I were your girlfriend, I would be around you all the time. "He smiled, amused.

"She lives among the common people and we both have a life of our own." She narrowed her eyes for a moment and looked at him intently.

"And she loves you very much?" "She does," he said and nodded.

"And what is her name then?"

"Why do you want to know all this?" He asked, amused.

"Because I think you're only saying that to get rid of me," she said honestly. And he appreciated that.

"Her name is Margje," he said. "She is Moon's granddaughter. Just ask. "

She looked at him, got up, and walked away. He had no idea if she was actually going to ask Moon for confirmation.

Later that evening, Raven sat by the fireplace, which by the way was not burning, it was much too warm for that. He thought.

Margje has had a lot of his thoughts lately. Everywhere he saw her flaming hair and those color-shifting blue eyes. His heart would beat faster. It made him restless. Maybe he should do something with that? He couldn't share it with Moon, that was weird. What should he say then? Moon your granddaughter is driving me crazy just being there? I compare every woman to her? Well, it was all nonsense, of course, his relationship with Margje was purely friendly. Ever since he came into her life. His only job was to protect her, as Moon had asked him to do.

And it just remained. Much easier for everyone. At least he could act normal to her.

He put his thoughts aside and drank his coffee. But the confusing feelings did not disappear from his body, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it all.