➶ the sacrificial lamb and the executioner

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she drifted. from one moment, one life, one world, to the next. death had been painful, yes, but still she had not feared it. more, she welcomed it, embraced it, as if death were a friend of old. with as much as she saw death, he certainly could have been some sort of cohort.

so she drifted now, into this new world, in this new form, with a mind that was not new. rather, her mind weighed with the tale of ages, heavy and constricting and comforting all at once.

mist gathered together, a kiss of moonlight, the whisper of the breeze. the fog grew dense, thick, almost viscous before it all dissipated all at once leaving

her.

the first breath was deep, slow. the first step light and cautious. eyes found another and

“elswyth!” she breathed, a smile breaking across her face. “so good to see you again sister!” as with her premonitions, how she knew and recognized her coven leader was and would always would be a mystery.
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