The sun set on All Hallow's Eve.
Salem plunged into a chilling darkness, broken only by the blood moon, and the lanterns of the night watch as they took over the shifts of the town's police and royal guard. For the whole day, no one else was to leave their home, for the paranoid Salem feared those who might take advantage of this day of evil and witchcraft.
That left Salem's people exactly where Circe and Helena wanted them. The two of them carefully noted the pattern of the night watch's patrol until the sun fully disappeared and the blood moon shimmered in and out of view over a cloudy night sky. From the cover of darkness, Circe and Helena slid their window open and slipped out of their house. Every faint noise they stirred up made the sorcerers shudder with anticipation. They were so, so close.
Helena led the way forward, her eyes blackened to survey the land for the converging ley lines she had found years ago. The rejection of the previous day weighed heavily on her heart. She had known that Circe's revenge was deeply important to her, but to shove everything aside for it was... concerning. Helena replayed every moment the two of them shared together over the past five years in her mind, looking for the sign of where things went wrong. Did Circe always see Helena's love as an obstacle in her pursuit of revenge? Did she even...?
Helena shoved the thought aside. She would only have to endure one more day. When the dust settled, Circe would belong to her. "We're here." Helena spoke her first words all day atop a small cliffside a safe distance from the outskirts of Salem. Here, three ley lines converged into a wellspring of natural magic. In this enchanted place, on the most powerful day of the year, the couple would perform the ritual that they had prepared for all these years. They finally had everything they needed. Salem would burn to ashes, and Circe would have her vengeance.
Helena surrounded the convergence of the ley lines with salt in the form of an intricate ritual circle. When the bag of salt was empty and the circle complete, Circe grabbed Helena's hand in a tender way that made Helena feel just that little bit better. The two of them began to chant an incantation: “Hoc ostium apertum, et novissimum oris illius. Ut sint oculi tui aperti, et ignem pluit.”
The earth shook, creating ripples in the salt circle below the couple's feet. Soon the ground cracked open to release bright red streams of energy, visible to Circe's naked eye, that burst forth and flowed around them. A congregation of supernatural beings approached the cliff, maintaining their cover behind trees and bushes as they gazed upon Circe and Helena with awe. Were these spirits attracted to the rift, or to their power? No matter, they all were welcome to witness them both, and their revenge upon this wretched town. The salt that formed the ritual circle glowed red as fire. The magic that had pooled into this spot flowed towards the night sky, pointing itself at the streets of Salem below. A crimson gash cut through the cloudy night, and from it a hail of fire was let loose upon the town.
Circe and Helena watched the first ball of flames strike a large building with glee. The inhabitants quickly fled their ruined estate, followed by their neighbors, until the entire town scurried about like roaches fleeing the light. "Die, die, DIE!" Circe cackled. Her revenge was unfolding onto this forsaken place, and she savored every minute of it. "Get what you deserve! Watch everything you love burn!"
Helena was the first to notice an armored hand burst forth from the rift that she had helped create. A hulking beast with crimson wings and horns, wielding a sword of obsidian and flame, shambled out of the rift and onto the cliffside where Circe and Helena stood. The thing reeked of brimstone and death. It held in its off hand an eldritch tome with a glowing red eye on its cover that stared at Circe and Helena intently. Its horrifying appearance made Circe giddy-- all that power was on her side, ready and waiting to decimate Salem.
Until the demon pointed its sword directly at Circe.
"No, no no! What is the meaning of this!?" Circe's bewilderment gave way to fury. "We summoned you, demon! We control you! You will not ruin my revenge!"
"Oh?" the demon chuckled. "And what sort of being are you, to control the likes of Beelzebub? How haughty! No one can claim control over he who is as free as flame itself!" Several fireballs much like the ones hurtling towards Salem formed around Beelzebub, aimed at the ones who summoned him here. Before Circe could react, a veil of darkness consumed the cliffside, blinding her to all the world.
When vision returned to Circe's eyes, the demon was long gone. At her feet, Helena's body was sprawled across the earth, covered in grievous burns and dripping blood. Bits of dark magic clung to Helena's fingers. Circe rushed to her partner's side, quickly checking for signs of life. The slow movements of her chest and shoulders indicated that Helena was still breathing, but no matter how Circe tried to wake her, Helena would not stir.
Circe's relief was drowned by agonizing guilt. It was because of her that Helena was here. It was because of her that Beelzebub was goaded into an attack. Circe may as well have incinerated her partner herself, for all the difference it made.
Another fireball hurtled in the sorcerers' direction. Circe clutched Helena's unconscious body close to her chest and ran towards Salem. With Beezlebub in control of the flames, Circe knew they wouldn't stop until both of them were dead. She needed to defeat the monster she had unleashed upon this place, and she lacked the power to do it alone.
Still, every part of Circe protested just where she was going. The house of Yahweh was no place for a witch. That old man would laugh at her, and condemn them both to death. This would never work. This plan was foolish, and Circe was just as foolish for even considering it. If she had any sense she'd turn back now and run for the hills while she still could.
But Circe knew, if she did that, she would finish what Beelzebub started. Helena's very life was in her hands, she could not just throw it away out of cowardice. Circe swallowed her fear, her pride, and stepped into the hallowed halls of Salem's Holy Cathedral.
The sounds of screaming and crackling fire seemed to muffle in this forsaken building. While everyone else in Salem fled for their lives, the Cathedral appeared untouched by the hellfire that surrounded it. It was as if a strange force was protecting it somehow. Colored light from the stained glass windows shined upon a balding old man who pored over the pages of a book as if he was unafraid of the destruction around him.
Circe knew this man all too well. She wanted nothing more than to curse him in a thousand languages, but the weight of Helena's body in her arms stilled her tongue. She instead gently laid Helena on one of the pews behind her and did something she knew her sisters would scorn her for when she saw them on the other side. Circe... got down on her hands and knees, before the reverend in front of her. "Reverend Parris..." Circe strained to speak. "I need your help." The words barely came out. The gravity of what Circe had done-- put a stop to her revenge, sought the help of a man so vile she could hardly bear to look at him-- but it was done. Once and for all, Circe had passed the point of no return.
Reverend Parris turned to face Circe, and she lowered her head to avoid his gaze. "Come to turn yourself in, witch?" Parris sneered. "No, you would never. Well then, out with it. What are you really here for?"
Circe choked down the retort she wanted to say. "You're right, Reverend. I would not pretend to be so noble, and neither would you. But for our own selfish reasons, our goals align. I need you to summon an angel, to stop the demon that ravages your town." A drawn out silence filled the Cathedral, before Circe added, "Please."
The sardonic laugh Circe was expecting the whole time finally came her way. "What ever for? Are you hoping to lead an agent of Yahweh into a trap? You must truly take me for a--"
"Reverend." Circe's head was still an inch above the ground, but a touch of her fury had leaked out of her voice. "After what you've done to me, I wouldn't go anywhere near this accursed place of my own will. Do you honestly believe I would debase myself by being here if I had any other choice? My partner is dying. I can't lose anyone else."
A fireball crashed to the ground right next to the Cathedral, reminding them both of their predicament. "Tch. You would do well to learn your proper place." Reverend Parris reached for Circe's hand, and she recoiled at the mere thought of touching him. "Hurry up. We have no time to waste."
Circe rushed to scoop Helena back into her arms, and walked out of the Cathedral. Her sisters must be furious with her. She was certainly disgusted with herself. Circe had dedicated so much of her life to seeking revenge on this town for her sisters, and here she was, walking side by side with their killer. Every step towards the town square, towards the gallows that these horrible people used as a point of pride, made her nauseous. Reverend Parris climbed atop the pedestal where the gallows stood, while Circe kept a safe distance away.
Reverend Parris cleared his throat. "On your knees, witch."
Circe growled, but did as he said. She knew exactly what was coming, try as she might not to think about it. She was not, and would *never,* swear fealty to his foul god. These were just words. An incantation, like any other. Together, the sorcerer and the reverend began: "Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as in heaven." Circe struggled with the prayer, and she could see that damn reverend smirking every time she glanced in his direction. The thought of wiping that grin off his stupid face was all that kept Circe from flying into a rage.
The gallows upon which Reverend Parris stood began to glow a pale blue. Several townsfolk who were nearby noticed the pair at the gallows, and joined in the prayer. "Give us this day our daily bread. Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us."
A bright light shined on the gallows from above, as if Heaven itself were claiming them as hallowed ground. In the dead of this Halloween night, all of Salem could see the gallows clear as day, and the Reverend who stood before them. Even Beelzebub paused to gaze upon the ostentatious display of Yahweh and his follower. Soon the entire town surrounded the pedestal to pray before their idol. "Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours, now and forever. Amen."
The light from Heaven shined brighter, spread further than ever before. As the light touched Helena's body, Circe noticed her partner's burns begin to look less raw, as if the light was, ever slowly, healing Helena's wounds.
"No! Accursed priest!" Beelzebub shouted as his tome glowed red to challenge Heaven's light. An enormous wave of hellfire erupted from the ground and hurtled towards the gallows. "Parris, you will regret this!"
The fire never reached Parris, or anyone else. A blinding light covered the townsfolk, and when it faded, Salem found that they were looking at the back of something... beautiful. They saw a hooded figure with golden armor and pure white wings, almost as large as the demon that had terrorized them on this night of evil. Their protector-- the angel-- turned her head back to the townsfolk and said, "Be not afraid, for I am here." The angel's silver sword deflected another fireball, and she continued, "My name is Uriel, and I will protect you. Now, run to the Cathedral!"
The people of Salem quickly obeyed, leaving Uriel and Beelzebub alone in the burning town square. Uriel flew directly at Beelzebub, blocking each fireball the demon cast to defend himself. The sounds of metal colliding with brimstone and crackling fire from the wood of smoldering homes filled the air for a long while. Uriel and Beelzebub pushed each other back, neither one able to get close enough to land a clean blow on the other. Beelzebub quickly realized he wasn't winning-- Uriel's goal was not to defeat him, but to stall him out, and Beelzebub would not let her ruin his fun.
Beelzebub put his tome away and threw a flaming cart at Uriel. Startled by the impact, she stumbled to the ground. When the angel regained her footing, she saw that the demon was nowhere to be found. The sound of hellfire from above made Uriel look up, just in time to see a fireball that would slam into her and send her flying into a blazing home. As Uriel crawled her way out of the wreckage, Beelzebub slowly approached. "Surely an agent of the so-called true god would have more fight than this!" He kicked the barely-conscious Uriel, knocking her back down.
Uriel barely groaned in response to the impact, so he kicked her yet again. Nothing. For a while Beelzebub stared at his scorched opponent. He wanted to savor killing this self-righteous angel, but now she was just so... boring. No whimpers, no pleading, no screams of agony. What was the point of finishing her off, if the kill wasn't even satisfying? She would just come back. Now, the mortals she sought to protect were far more interesting. Beelzebub let out a wicked grin, and made his way towards the Cathedral. "Your angel can't save you, Parris!" the demon called. "And for your insolence, I'm coming for--"
Salem rushed towards their savior, showering thanks onto Uriel for her heroic deed. Flustered, the angel backed away and collected her words. "It was only a matter of keeping the innocent safe," she said, too quiet to be heard over the rejoicing townsfolk. Uriel stayed as long as she could, savoring the smiles of Salem's people. However, she could not stay forever-- she, too, needed to go home. Uriel made her way to the gallows that centered the town square. Bathed in Yahweh's light, Uriel beat her wings and ascended back to Heaven. Soon after, the light from above faded, as did the pale blue glow of the gallows themselves. The pitch black of Halloween night returned, with only the thick clouds and blood moon overhead.
Salem's Sheriff broke the silence. "What of the witches who caused this?"
The crowd quickly began searching, but they would not find Circe or Helena tonight. The sorcerers were long gone, as was the tome that the demon they summoned left behind. On the other side of an ashen portal, Circe and Helena exchanged a tearful embrace and profuse apologies. All thoughts of revenge faded from their minds for just a moment. They had each other. They were safe. Nothing else mattered.
Helena's recovery was swift, and soon she and her partner were energized to scheme once more. Little could keep Circe and Helena from their revenge for long. The couple sat at a small table in an empty house, poring over their new tome as they prepared a strategy. Power was a necessary thing, but they had learned from that Halloween night. Wrestling power from something they could not control was untenable. They needed something deeper. A power they could make their own.
Circe was reminded of her own sisters. Not all of them were hers by blood, but every scrap of ash she carried with her was her sister nonetheless. When their Coven was whole, Circe was whole. She felt like she could do anything with her sisters behind her-- even take on a town full of witch hunters. A Coven like that was just what Circe and Helena needed.
Chapter 3/30
