Dedicated to my birthday twin <3

Monday 18th January 1988

No one passing by the neighbourhood of Danville, Montana would have even remotely predicted that seventy percent of the population was made up of witches – real witches. Not the ones that cackled manically and flew around on brooms. Instead, witches that could move cars with a simple utter of two words; witches that attended an academy in order to harness the magic coursing through their veins; witches that wore jeans and spoke like the average, mundane, human being.

Out of nowhere, a man appeared onto the dark street. He brushed the dust off him and a ring of it fell on to the asphalt, creating a circle around him. The sun had accepted defeat and drowned into the ocean hours prior, and now the moon conquered the sky. He didn't have to look up to know that it was a full moon out tonight, he felt it in the itch beneath his skin; in the rush through his veins; and through the shiver that crawled down his spine.

With his attire consisting of mostly black - black dress shirt, black dress pants and a black coat - the man almost blended in with his environment. The coat billowed behind him as the wind rushed through the blond tresses on his head. With the darkness hiding his face and pulling him in, he mysteriously stood tall and proud.

The drops of rain that were crashing down heavily onto the Earth not long ago, now made the abandoned concrete sparkle. It was then that the man finally noticed the eerie silence that enveloped the neighbourhood. It was quiet – too quiet. And he required no more signs before his body went from cautious to alert. The hair on his neck prickled up and his body tensed. His eyes darted between the old houses, he took a step forward. And then another.
 
Thump, thump.

His hand reached out instinctively and he whispered, "Obvolvere."

A rush that could only be magical flowed through the veins in his body before the spell silenced his shoes, and prevented them from making another sound. The next footsteps he took didn't disrupt the silence but rather joined it. With that he walked towards the last house down the lane. He stepped onto the porch, and the swing that sat next to the door gave out a little creak before swaying. The man suspiciously casted a furtive glance around the area before raising his fist to knock on the blue, wooden door.

Eight seconds later the door opened and as expected, an old witch stood before him – Maria Costav. Even though she was nearing the age of two hundred and thirty, the witch was only now beginning to get grey hairs. The wrinkles on her face were now more evident than the last time he had seen her – in a forty decade old photograph printed onto the Witch's Gazette.

With a simple wiggle of her fingers, the door shut behind them catching him off guard. No, it wasn't the door abruptly shutting behind them that surprised him, it was the ease at which she had casted a wordless spell. And then he found himself fascinating how often she did that.

"Governor Gilbert," Maria Costav greeted with a bow. "I am sorry to have asked for your presence at such an hour."

At her words, the Governor look up at the polka dotted wall where a grandfather clock hung chiming as the hand hit the numbers two and twelve.

"That is no matter. What is it that you had to tell me?"

The older witch walked further into the room and he followed. Standing there in the presence of the most powerful Seer witch to inhabit the Earth, Stakron Gilbert finally realised that the air that crackled around Maria Costav was her magic and not just a figment of his imagination. Though it  should've comforted him and assured him safety, the Governor couldn't help but feel threatened.

Maria Costav turned around and looked him in the eye. She didn't bother asking him to take a seat or even offer him tea or coffee, instead she simply stared at him searching for something in his eyes. What, he was not sure of. The solemn look on her face called for his entire attention, and the Governor knew that what he would hear would require the utmost secrecy.

"I had a vision this afternoon. A vision of the future."

Stakron Gilbert had never thought that words could hold the power to rock him to the core, until that very day.  Erasing his face of any emotion that would give his anxiety away, the Governor spoke, "what did you see?"

"In the 19th year of the second millennia when the dark will rise, so will our heirs to protect us," the witch recited, her voice low and firm.

"What is it exactly that you saw?" the Governor asked, his apprehensive eyes glued onto her worried ones.

"The end of our kind."

Stakron Gilbert couldn't help the widening of his eyes or the drop of his heart that followed her words. The young Governor raised the palm of his hand and rubbed his face.

"Is there no way to stop it?"

"There is."

Gilbert raised his eyebrows expectantly and the powerful witch continued.

"Our heirs, Governor. There shall be six of them. They are to protect us. They will rise. They will be the most powerful witches the world will ever see."

Stakron Gilbert's lips parted to speak but before he could, the older witch added, "But Governor, there is no guarantee that they can save us."

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There we have the prologue. Let me know what you thought! If you enjoyed it, leave a vote.

Hasnita xx