zeldavine cauchemar | seven | cb

ZELDAVINE CAUCHEMAR
DISTRICT SEVEN
EIGHTEEN
WITCH

Fire in the water, Zeldavine was. An aunt punished for the very practices that Zelda herself carried out later on in life, and she knew what people would say if they knew the truth of her ways. She knew what they would say, should they find the altar in her closet, or should they read the contents of one of those leather-bound books of which she was so protective.

And they probably expected it from a Cauchemar. Before she was even old enough to know what a witch really was, mothers kept their children close to their sides and crossed their hearts when Zelda and her sisters were near. And it didn't help that Helle, the oldest of them, lived her life with a switchblade in her back pocket and hands controlled by the devil.

And Sera-

They had always suspected that there was a sheep wearing a wolf skin somewhere within their den. Hands raised to the sky, she was just like the rest of them: just as close-minded. Zelda made it a point to think of some quick poem to curse her sister with in the morning at breakfast, just because she knew it would draw up a reaction, because she was not the monster they would have all thought she was, nor was her mother. She was a good soul in capable hands, with a mind that refused to follow the pre-determined paths everyone else had been assigned to.

If she was wrong for that, then fine.

She had lived her entire life alone. There was no reason to try and change that now.