Prologue The Birth of Witches: A Myth of origin During the early days of the world, before mundanes even knew how to grow crops or count the stars, the land was alive. The wind swirled, picking up the dried leaves that danced with song and the ferns bloomed freely, uncurling to reach the sun glimmering above. And with this serenity came magic. It started just as a tiny speck, but would transform into something great, something powerful. The Great Mother was the spirit of nature herself, she watched her lands as it began to grow, and humans started to grow in numbers. The humans were curious of the world, they had the capacity to dream, dream of possibilities the Mother couldn’t. But the humans were also cunning, selfish little creatures. They took without giving back, swung their axes, and took out trees and animals from the world. And with every thump of a tree falling, the Great Mother could feel each one, like a blow to her heart. She wept, and the tears plummeted to the ground, washing away what was, and planting the seed for what could be. And from those tears came fourteen; they were neither god nor mundane—but a mixture of the two. These fourteen were the first witches known to humanity, born from sadness and the possibility for something more. Each embodied an element of the world, meant to use their powers to restore the balance. The first witches taught the mundanes to listen to the music in the wind, to make peace with one another, and the world as a whole. The fourteen gave those families with the gift the Mother gave them—magic. So as long as those families bore more children, they too could carry on the legacy of the Mother. This power could not be learned among the mundanes, it was inside the witches itself, and would continue to be passed down through generations. Though, not all who were blessed by the Mother herself were grateful. Among the fourteen, one witch—in which her name is shunned and forbidden to speak—grew envious of the others, she wanted to control magic rather than serve it, for the power itself to bend at her whim. In secret she drew upon not the living world, but its shadows—death, blood, and the void in between. Her magic was rabid, sinister, and depraved. When the Mother learned of her betrayal, she wept once more, but this time, her tears brought death rather than life. The fallen witch was banished, and her name was erased from history, and yet her dark teaching survived, whispering to those who sought power over balance. Those would become the black witches—shadow witches, who use shadows to conceal their evil, soul witches, who use their power for necromancy, and blood witches, who use others' blood for their own malicious intents. Their magic comes with a cost though, all who use it will forever bear the mark of evil, and their power will consume them, twisting them into creatures of their own greed. To restore balance, the remaining thirteen created the first coven. They bound their magic together, each taking on a role. The green witch became the first ever High Priestess, she was the leader, the one who would protect the Mother’s way, and the others served as keepers of knowledge and life. From their bond came the tradition of covens—thirteen members, one leader and twelve followers—each bound by trust and purpose. May this story lead as a warning to all those who seek the fallen witches path, as it is written, it will be known. - The first High Priestess, Elara, date unknown
Srry for the late Prologue!! I decided to add it later. :/
