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First pages

Chapter 1

 She glanced down at the dark surface of the water as the flames flickered. They licked the tarnished black cauldron. Tiny bubbles came up to the surface and Alana turned away satisfied. Grabbing a handful of freshly chopped basil and a jar of dried lavender she went back over to the stove. The basil went right in. As she pried open the jar a fresh smell spread around the kitchen. In her palm she held up some lavender flowers and sniffed in the sweet aroma. These went right in as well. She raised a brow and glanced up at the ceiling as a series of creaking sounds could be heard in the walls.

“Damn sprites...” she muttered under her soft breath. Instead she grabbed the final ingredient; a small and thin chicken bone.It was a leftover from yesterdays dinner.

Alana raised her hands above the water surface and snapped the tiny bone in half. As the crack echoed around the space of the room she spoke with magic tongue.


As thou uninvited cross my boarders

broken bones and grief befalls


“How mean of you to set up such a barrier. Not a fan of guests anymore?” a shrill male voice cut in. The witch turned to her bookcase. She was about to explain to her house spirit how she was having enough trouble with him and the fairies when a buzzing vibration rung through the air. She turned to her crystals with alarm and rapidly picked one of them up, receiving a message sent from the Court. It gave her everything she needed to know in a second, with a slight headache to follow. She had heard the call. She put the crystal back and turned to the skull.

“I must leave for Serenity Hall.” she said and clad herself in a finer cloak with hurry. It was made with a dark royal blue fabric that had large beautiful vines embroidered around the hem. They seemed to grow wild around her feet. She put her long, brown curls up in a haste and covered her head with the hood. It cast shadows over her pale, frowning expression. Without another word, she stormed out of the cabin into the dark woods.


Voices bounced off the cave walls of the Serenity Hall. It created a buzzing noise that was difficult to shut out. The bright fires placed around the circular hall illuminated the cold, fine decorated marble pillars. Alana stood leaning casually against the wall. Despite her calm aura her insides twisted with turmoil as stress was slipping into her mind. The whole situation screamed chaos. It made the men and women scattered around the hall, all of them witches, to whisper eagerly with each other. Worried faces shook their heads as gossip spread like wildfire.

Who had stolen the cursed Impetti Spear? Who was bold and powerful, perhaps also dumb enough, to steal such a thing? Now suspicious fingers pointed at people behind their backs.

Alana sighed and couldn’t help but to look down on these tattle-tails and worrywarts. She knew just fine what twisted power the spear held but accusing each other in sheer paranoia was idiotic. It was no better than the people that once had hunted them down. Many innocent humans suffered the flames and gallows because of that sort of behavior.

 Her dark blue cloak and dark grey cotton dress rustled as she stood from her position by the wall. She strode closer to the middle of everything with silent steps. She could not see anyone interesting to speak with so she decided to just listen for now.

When walking around the scattered crowd it did not surprise her to hear her own name being mentioned. Alana knew that she had a bad reputation among some social gatherings but she ignored whatever that was being said. She was already used to whatever verbal abuse they could possibly come up with. She would never in her life associate herself with blood magic. Not again.

Suddenly all voices died out and everyone glanced over at the open entrance. Their High Priestess stood there silently with her loyal followers copying her like shadows. At her side was the Captain of the Guard, Al Zoraz. His hand resting on his golden sword. He was a prime example of a honorable soldier. His grey eyes scanned the faces and the room with a practiced eye. He was tall, broad shouldered and his short dirty blond hair was combed back as usual. Alana almost rolled her eyes at how boring he looked, despite his fine uniform.

Behind them, lurking in the shadows, stood the Cult. A handful of members, more then was common. On normal affairs and meetings only one or two would accompany Miranda. Now they were six. They were all the same height, only reaching the witches chests. They were in order words short and small but their presence always filled the air. It drowned out the light and warmth from a room.

Alana eyed them with her usual suspicion but figured she wouldn’t think about them too much. All witches were loyal and submissive to the High Priestess. The Cult were however a different case all together. Like puppets they served her, identities hidden behind wine red robes and hoods. Bound to their fate to serve and the Court they were far more damned by duty and rules than the rest of the community.

Miranda searched the crowd with a glance. Her blue eyes, tinted with a touch of silver, met Alana's leaf green. Their gazes held for a moment before Miranda stepped out and walked to the middle of the circle. The Clan were one small step behind. Her pale face showed calm and grace but Alana was sure she felt worry, just like the rest of them. Still, she and only she had the capabilities needed to keep the crowds calm and controlled.

Miranda's turquoise satin dress was dazzled with gold and silver stars at the hem. Her dark green robes swayed as she stopped in the centre of the round hall, surrounded by at least two hundred witches. Her hand reached for the ceiling and the air vibrated, calling for everyone’s attention. The already dead silent room looked at Miranda and she nodded.

“These are stressful and difficult times, as you have all heard that we have been robbed of a very... dangerous object. This is not a thing any of us can control. If anyone in this room is guilty of this crime, step forward now. No harm or punishment will fall upon you, I give you my word.” Miranda spoke with a soft voice but Alana knew her well enough to know she simply tried to act brave.

Alana glanced around the room much like everyone did to see if anyone had taken the plead to heart. Not a single soul stepped out and Miranda sighed quietly.

“An investigation will take place and if the Spear has not returned in three days time the punishment will be death by fire.” Her words opened up a new wave of buzzing voices and gossip. To burn at the stake was not only incredibly painful but also a great disgrace and horror considering our past history. A feeling of terror sent shivers down Alana’s spine but she felt no worry that she would be dragged into it.

Miranda glanced over at her friend one final time and Alana nodded at her to give her reassurance. Miranda smiled and Alana followed her with cautious eyes as the Priestess exited the Serenity Hall with her group.

Next to her a man strode up, chin high and shoulders squared. His cloak was a deep red with golden broidery, buckled with a large jewel over his chest. His beard was carefully trimmed and shaped along his jaw. Lord Durk was always one to show off his love for wealth and gold. It matched his egoistic and empty personality. He wore a satisfied smirk which made her want to break his nose, preferably with her own fist. It was more satisfying that way rather than using magic. Alana took a deep breath and remained silent, counting to ten.

“Everyone is on edge tonight, hmm? What are your thoughts on the matter, miss Verley?” asked Lord Durk with glee in his voice. His grin matched his silly French mustache and she raised her brows as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Oh, is my opinion of any importance to you, Georgie?” She asked with the same tone he had thrown at her. His face showed his displeasure at the nickname she knew he hated but his grin came back soon enough.

“Quite a few people in here have named you as a likely suspect and I am simply investigating the facts...” he said and Alana sneered.

“Leave the investigation to the Cult, they ought to do a better job than you ever will.” She bit back at him, turned and walked towards the entrance without another word.


The midnight hour neared as Alana stood outside Miranda’s living quarters. It was by the south wing of Moorgath Castle. The night laid heavy like a moist veil and the waning moon shone heavy on them all. She glanced at it, sending a prayer to the Mother Goddess.

She opened the wooden entrance door without a single knock. It was something most witches would call disrespectful towards traditions but Alana didn’t care. Miranda was a close friend of hers and had been that long before she became High Priestess of the European lands. Not many knew about it but Miranda and Alana went as far back as early childhood friends. Their mothers were close friends and raised them together. It was only after Miranda had been chosen as their High Priestess that they were separated by class and rules. That was many years ago but Alana often visit her friend on late nights. Especially when she needs her friends support the most.

Walking down the large hallways, decorated in a expensive fashion with golden statues and historic paintings, she looked for servants but found none. She suspected they had been sent away by Miranda. Alana could only imagine how suffocating her role as a leader must be.

Alana knocked on the master bedroom door and stepped in seconds later. She spotted Miranda sitting at her boudoir, head in hands. The dark haired witch rushed over and placed her hands on Miranda's shoulders.

“Talk to me…” She said gently but the priestess refused to move as her pale blond curls hung down like a curtain in front of her face.

“Mira, no one is blaming you. You are not exactly a guard or a police officer… You can’t be everywhere.” she said. Miranda looked up, brows knitted together.

“They will blame me if we can not retrieve the Spear! Why was it stolen in the first place?! No one can control that power, we all know what happened last time!” she yelled out in frustration, her usually calm expression gone. Alana shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter why someone took it, it has already happened. We will fix this.” She assured her but Miranda stood and paced impatiently in the room. Alana sat down on the padded stool.

“I must fix this, and fast. We can not have another massacre, it will be too heavy on my heart!” she said and Alana watched as stress ate her friend up.

Alana stood and met Miranda’s pacing figure. She stood and by grabbing her shoulders she stopped her stride.

“Stay still and breath” Alana said and took a deep breath herself. Miranda did the same and sucked in some air. She nodded and mumbled an okay. Alana turned and walked to the chair to sit down. Miranda came to her side and placed a hand on Alana’s shoulder.

“Thank you, friend. I guess I worked myself up a bit...” Miranda said and Alana raised one eyebrow at her. She smiled back and squeezed the shoulder.

“Never leave me, friend.” She said gently and the dark haired witch smiled back at her with reassurance.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”


Alana sat in the Solemn Garden, watching the water spirits dance and play on the surface of the lake. They were beautiful. Thin and light bodies, as translucent and shiny as the water itself. She had taken a seat on one of the benches placed along the path. That morning she had tried, and failed, at seeing Miranda. She was currently shut up inside with the Court. Go figure, considering the threat ahead of them. Regardless of whom the thief was Alana was sure they would be caught any moment.

Heavy and firm footsteps approached and she looked up from the mirror of the lake. Al was walking towards her, dressed fully in his Captains uniform. She smirked, just a little bit.

”I thought I’d find you lingering,” he said, stopping by the bench. He made no move to sit.

”You look… wonderful today. I like the dress.” he attempted to flatter her. He sounded like a dork but she knew he meant it. Indeed she was wearing a less formal dress suitable for the fair weather. The September air was growing chilly but not quite cold yet. She had chosen an old dress, tailored back in 1970. It was inspired by victorian era fashion, her favorite kind. It was more a replica more so than an original design. But it was comfortable and the wine red velvet kept her warm, even without a cloak. Indeed she wished she had been born a century earlier, so that she could have lived the victorian age herself. He father had dismissed her feelings once, saying it had not been an impressive age. Humans had been less hygienic, according to her prim and vain mother. She snapped out of her thoughts as Al watched her.

She relaxed into the shaped, black metal of the bench. She shrugged at him.

”I want to be there for her. They won’t let me in.” she said, watching the lake again. The water spirits were long gone, no doubt because of Al. Most creatures of fairy or spirit kind seemed to flee his presence. Maybe it was the uniform. Or the broad sword at his side.

Al was competent in water and earth magic. Not as good as Alana but well enough to stand his ground in a fight. He didn’t really need the blade but it was apparently tradition.

He watched her face. His eyes were tender, despite his hardened face.

”I know you do. We all do. She’s our High Priestess.” He barely had time to finish his sentence before Alana bore her eyes into him.

”It’s different for me.” she bit at him. She regretted her bitter anger the moment it left her mouth and she sighed.

”I cared for her long before she was chosen.”

”I know. We all knew each other long before that day. The two of you were inseparable. Like at the balls, when you wore twin dresses. Or in school, doing each assignment together.” he smiled at the memories. She smiled too, despite herself. He shook his head.

”I guess I was just the third wheel.” he laughed. She shrugged.

He shifted his weight.

”Would you like to accompany me to dinner? Just us.” he asked, carefully. He had asked many times before. She had always been aware of those pining eyes. The desire he held for her. She had drawn the line early on. They were just friends.

”No. I can’t.” she simply said and he nodded. He had never crossed that line. Never tried to do anything to her but perhaps hold her hand when they had been younger. He respected that about him. He gave her space and time, even thought she’d never see him in that way.

”Thank you though, for the offer. I will just be content knowing you protect Miranda.” she said and stood. He smiled a little bit.

”It’s my duty and privilege.” he said. He made a mocking bow and they laughed. She raised her hand, giving him a small wave.

”See you around, Captain.” she said, walking toward the entrance leading to the nearby town of Lore Inà. A town hidden from mortal eyes. All of it, the garden and the castle, was as well. Pity, considering its beauty and history.

As she walked away she could feel his eyes on her. It was so intense but still distant. It almost felt like his attention burnt her. When she dared a look over her shoulder he turned, stalking back to the castle.


Tim put away his samsung smartphone after his final text. He had promised his mate to give him call when he arrived in Lille. If he could manage to find service out there. He let out a heavy breath and braced himself.

Kings Cross station was always busy with tourists, travelers and people on their daily commute. He pushed past a group of people, apologizing quickly. He hurried on, passing by the Harry Potter tourist attraction. He had already taken pictures while pushing the cart that went partially into the brick wall. Twice. Today he was in a rush and didn’t spare it more than a glance.

”Where is the… ah!” he mumbled, pulling on the suitcase. It rolled behind him swiftly and he lifted it as he took the stairs down to his track. On the digital screen he confirmed that the destination was Paris, stopping in Lille.

He had to stop for a minute to catch his breath. He had some time to spare before the train left. He glanced around. People hugged goodbyes and pulled on their bags to get on the train. Outside of the station he caught a glimpse of other city buildings. He would miss London. He wasn’t sure on how long he would be gone but hoped to one day return and get his life back on track. Before that he had some answers to find. His hand landed on his pocket. Inside it was an envelope with instructions on where he could go. He had to believe there was more out there. A place where he could belong.

Chapter 2

Alana enjoyed being in London. She wasn’t entirely sure why but there was a feeling of belonging there. She was walking down Oxford Street to look at shops and watch people along the crowded street. She enjoyed the fair weather and the gentle sun this early September day. The sweet scent of miniature donuts and sugar coated almonds spread in the air. Humans lived in their own kind of world but she sometimes wondered what it was like. No magic. No knowledge of what was truly out there. Alana had never really been a part of that world, besides short interactions at shops or on a street corner. She had just been watching them her entire life, wondering what it would be like to be someone else.

No stuck-up witches were breathing down her back and for once she could let the spear slip her mind. A few days had already passed with no luck of having the spear returned. Alana was getting tired of involving herself in the mess. All she wanted was to keep Miranda in her happy place and help her out when she needed it. The rest was avoidable.

Today was about her and having some alone time away from anything magical. She had already gotten her hands on homemade strawberry and orange marmalades. She also found drawing materials such as pens and a sketching pad. It would help her further the work on her spell book, even if she was a terrible artist.

She stopped outside a window and eyed the variation of shoes displayed in an appealing fashion. She sighed knowing that these heels would not live long in the woods she walked in daily. Still, they were pretty to look at. She moved on from the window display, reminded about the boots outside her cabin she had to clean.

Alana had turned twice from Oxford Street, reaching Eastcastle Street. It was currently empty but in busy London she expected someone stepping out into sight any second. Quickly she drew a glamour over herself, making her presence invisible. As long as she didn’t touch anyone, they would simply walk past.

Looking extra careful over her shoulder one more time she pulled out a white moon crystal from her blue jeans pocket. It dangled from a silver chain which she placed around her neck. She held it in her left hand, breathing deep. Her eyelids dropped as she whispered an incantation and felt a wind pull at her dark hair. The ground swayed violently. Suddenly the air felt cold to the exposed skin of her arms.

Green eyes opened to a murky, dark forest. Tall pine trees reached for the sky, branches twisting in odd ways. As much as she liked London, nothing beat the north eastern parts of France. It was near the boarder of Switzerland and ninety kilometers away was the city of Strasbourg. Even without the glamour keeping her hidden from mortal eyes she knew that no one would wanter this deep into the woods. There were paths for strolling and hiking. It was a reserve after all. But that was a way off and magic kept humans away.

She found herself on the well-trodden path leading to the cabin. The tall pine trees shut out most of the sunlight and she glanced at the root where she had carved the location rune. It was still intact and satisfied with that she started down the pathway. Branches and bushes almost moved out of her way, opening up the trail she had walked so many times before. A few minutes later she was home, seeing candlelight shine through the small window. At least Alana lived like a typical witch. It was far into the dark forest that her small cabin melted into a mossy hill. When she had first found it she thought it was a trolls lair but turns out it had been vacant for her to transform into a home.

Alana smiled and walked up to the oak wooden door, flicking her hand in a circular motion. A click of the key turning followed and the door swung inward. Stepping inside she dropped her plastic bags on the floor and looked over at the candle in the window.

“You’ve been nice, right?” She asked and the small flame flickered in response. She grinned at it and walked into the living room.

Her cabin was small but had two large rooms. The living room filled up the cabin well in a circular shape with the kitchen further in. Bookshelves covered half of the walls filled with odd things placed out in them. Books, notes, candles and crystals of all sizes and shades. And of course a possessed human skull. Witches weren’t frightening in bedtime stories for nothing.

The kitchen was filled with food but also herbs, powders, potions and other ingredients used for various things a witch might do. Now glancing over to the kitchen Alana sighed with dread, as she knew the time for cleaning came closer every day. She continued over to the fireplace to get it started for the night, placing the logs in order. She easily found some newspapers to get it started with. Making a fire with magic wasn’t exactly difficult but it drained you and she figured that she was too tired to do so. When not finding her matches she snapped her fingers at the paper to get a spark started and soon enough the flames licked its food with a never ending hunger.

“Hey!” a voice called out but she paid no mind as she got her bags off the floor. She heard mumbling coming from the shelf with another ’hey’ following. Alana glanced over at her human skull and rolled her eyes. She started to unpack the things she had bought on the table.

“Ignoring people is rude you know, you are such a witch!” the skull complained. She shook her head, sighing heavy.

“Daisy, who said you are a person in the first place?” the witch answered and the skull made an annoyed sound.

“My name is Charlton! Charlton! Is that so difficult to remember?!” the skull had a fit. She shrugged.

“Not at all, Jenna.” She said, smiling when the cursed skull mumbled some more.

“A person came by.,” the skull said and she looked up at it. She stood silent but then smiled.

“You’re bluffing, my surrounding energy field would have noticed...” she said, moving more stuff around. The skull snorted.

“Yeah, right! Not my fault the guy stopped before crossing the field. Must have been a strong witch, I’m telling you!” it said, almost jumping up and down up on the shelf. Alana stroked her chin, eyeing the skull with suspicion. A powerful witch might have been able to stop before triggering any alarms but who was good enough to see the field? Not many knew where she lived with the exception of family members and Miranda.

“Regardless of who it was we can’t worry because of something that didn’t even happen.” She told Charlton with a decisive voice. He did not seem convinced but Alana left it at that, getting ready to eat dinner and go to bed early.


In the early hours of morning, before dawn arrived, Alana awoke to horrid screams of pain. Voices of men cried outside her cabin and in a hurry she dressed in a soft beige silk robe, tied at the waist, and walked outside. Guards lay all over the front lawn, grabbing their legs and shins. Alana sighed and shook her head, glaring at Al. The Captain walked past his men with a chuckle.

“That’s not a nice spell Alana. You are quite keen on your privacy I see.” Al said with an amused look on his handsome face. Said witch crossed her arms with a bored expression.

“They are trespassing and if they had taken my warning seriously they wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” she said and shrugged casually.

“Verley, you bastard! Look at my leg!” a guard with ginger red wild hair, one she was familiar with from their school days, called out at her. She turned to him, looking down over her nose.

“Don’t be a wuss Greg, you knew the barrier was up and you walked in uninvited anyway. It’s just a crack in the bone, you can heal it yourself!” she called back at him in annoyance.

“Still hurts like a bitch!” he yelled back as Al gently steered the young woman to the side.

“Now, now. I need you to come with us Alana. Calmly.” He said and she frowned.

“Why? Is it Miranda?” She asked with worry. Al shook his head.

“Of course not, she is fine and well aware that we are here to get you.” He explained. She took a step back from him and stood straight. Alana glanced back at the handful of guards Al had brought, now slowly rising up on to their feet. She looked back at Al.

“Why are you here then?” She asked with a growing suspicion. Al looked bothered as he sighed.

“You are to be brought in for an interrogation regarding the Spear. Alana, you are a suspect.” he said and cold shivers ran down her spine as she realized how serious the situation really was. She nodded, a bit stiff. She waved her hand and the front door shut close as Al lead her away by the arm, gentle but firm. He got a bit closer to her as they passed the guards.

“You know that we will have to search your home, right?” he said, looking back at her cabin. She sighed and told him that yes, she knew that perfectly well.


The sound of his shoes annoyed her. The ticking of his wristwatch annoyed her. But the number one thing that annoyed Alana the most was the painfully slow process of interrogating.

”So, what is your basic use of magic?” the man asked, stopping his pace and turned to the sour looking woman. He seemed oblivious to her foul mood and how he was wasting her time. Never mind being patient any more.

”This is the forth time you’ve asked that, I’ve already told you my answer. I’m a Multus. Are you deaf?” She snapped and spoke through her teeth. He glanced up with a fierce look and slammed down his clipboard on the table.

”I’d be careful if I were you, you don’t want to be rude to me, Lady. I’m in charge here, not you.” he huffed but she was hardly faced. She unfolded her arms and leaned forward to meet his angry look.

”Oh please, you’re wasting time to keep me busy. Why not ask the hard questions already?” Alana raised her voice. Her low blood sugar wasn’t helping.

He was appearing uncomfortable but didn’t speak, move or do anything at all really. She clicked her tongue and went back to leaning back in the simple plastic chair. It had not surprised her that all furniture had been a thick white plastic. Witches couldn’t do magic with a dead material such as plastic, it held no life and barely any flow of energy. No criminal would be able to take advantage of the tables or chairs.

The interrogators old iron ring vibrated with a hidden message, one she could only notice but not hear. He looked thoughtful for a second but then walked over to the door and opened it. She lifted a brow and wondered who would jump into their little mess. She was somewhat not surprised when Al Zoras entered the room.

”Ah…” She voiced and rolled her eyes. The captain glanced over with an entertained look, brown eyes shining.

”That’s an odd response I must say.” he said, sitting down in the chair across from her. The other man left, clipboard in hand. Alana smiled and licked her lips before looking back at Al. He was now in a simple brown cotton uniform with no armory or leather padding on, free from his large sword. His left shoulder was still decorated with a seal proving his bravery and loyalty to the Court. Over his heart shone a golden pin given to the Captain of the Guard. It was no bigger than her thumb. It was a sword piercing down through an orb stating the letters CG.

”Now…” he started off slowly, locking his hands in front of him. His gaze searched for hers and the two locked eyes. He looked serious, a face she had seen often back in school and whenever Al would work in the courtroom. It was a dignified but frightening look, even to her. Unfortunately for him she wasn’t the type to budge or give in easily. And so they came to this, silently staring at each other.

”You, if anyone, know the severity of this crime. You have seen the power of the spear and what it is used for. Slaughter, massacres and the end of our world as we know it,” He said, tensing his shoulders. Alana put on a smirk.

”Wow, dramatic much?” she said on purpose and like she had thought Al looked at her with anger. He was easy to rile up.

”It’s no joke Alana! Have you no sense of compassion left in you?” Al raised his voice and her smirk disappeared instantly. She tilted her head to the side and gave him a look of disbelief.

”Really?” She asked and Al suddenly looked guilty.

”I didn’t mean it like that, listen… we’re all stressing out about this. Let me prove you didn’t do it and you can go back home, or back to Miranda. People are pointing fingers at you and we have to quickly clear this up,” he said and she felt his worry. She nodded, understanding. He sighed and grabbed the pen lying in front of him.

”I’ll ask questions and you try to answer as well as you can. Where were you on the night of September the twenty first?” he asked and she sighed, sitting up straighter. Might as well get this over with.


”She’s been cleared of suspicion. Escort her home,” Al said to the guards waiting outside. Alana raised her hand in rejection.

”No need, I’ll go alone. I might as well buy some breakfast, seeing how you’ve kept me locked up past brunch” she complained and Al rolled his eyes.

”You’re not making this easy for me, even with your alibi…” He said, probably tired by now. Although the interrogation had been no more than forty-five minutes for him it had been a couple of hours for Alana. She was not in a good mood.

 The other guards eyed her suspiciously. Into the hall walked the annoying interrogator from earlier. He and Al exchanged words and Alana saw this as her cue to leave. She headed for the glass doors at the front entrance of the lobby. Behind her she heard a male voice yell out.

”Hey, she can just leave?” the first interrogator called after her. She turned and gave him a glance.

”Yes, her alibi is tight and there is no evidence to support an arrest,” Al said, looking at his papers. The guard shook his head.

”My wife won’t like this… We should at least keep a sturdy eye on her!” the guard complained and suddenly Al stared back at him with a hard expression. The air felt heavier as the room seemed to buzz.

”Are you questioning my decision?” Al asked through his teeth. The guard paled and shook his head, opening his mouth to say something. She felt this was a good time to cut in.

”Who is that wife of yours?” Alana asked and all heads turned.

”Margery Batcher.” the guard answered stiffly. She nodded, suddenly amused.

”To think guardsmen take anonymous tips from housewives. What a disgrace.”

She turned her entire body their way, not caring that she looked silly in her fudge beige sleeping robe. She at least wore a dignified face with cold eyes and a sweet smirk, a trait given to her by her mother.

”You can send your wife a message, as a sign of my gratitude that she’s poking her big nose around other peoples business.”

She noticed Al held back a laugh as the guard, Mr. Batcher, turned red in the face.

”If she has time to gossip about an innocent witch perhaps she can find better things to do. Like getting off her ass and actually be useful, ” Alana said before turning and walking out the door.

The sun was now high above the horizon as she pulled out her moon crystal. She needed to catch up on some sleep.


About me

Hi there! I love to write and I love seeing others enjoy the stories I make up. I may not be the best out there but if you like my book then that makes me thrilled! Tell your friends about it and don't be afraid to give me feedback. I'm a creative and ambitious woman (Slytherin, duh!) born in 94. I live alone with my black cat and try to study at Uni. I also dance, work part-time and dream. Sometimes by daydreams become stories that I get to share. You never know when you get a great idea!

Q. What was the hardest part of writing this book?
I often doubted if my idea was good, or if the writing was good. There is so much in my head and limits to what I can write. I worried about getting it across to the reader but I believe people are smart so they will hopefully see the world and story as I made it!
Q. What is the inspiration for the story?
For me, my family is important. I have some I'm close with and other relatives I've struggled with. I wanted family bonds to be a big focus in the story. It is also about knowing who you are outside the framework of the family, when you stand alone. It's a part of growing up.
Q. Why do you write?
It's a way to get my own craziness out into the world! I have a vivid imagination and visuals so without writing I would go insane. Writing is not just a hobby, it's medicine for the artistic soul! I actually started with fan fiction and but I decided to focus on my own books.