This is it, she told herself. The end of everything I’ve ever known.
‘But the start of something great,’ Phyria chimed in. The vulture hopped towards the end of the bed, tilting its wrinkled head to the side as it looked her over. Petra smiled and studied her reflection in the full length mirror before her.
Her dark hair was braided into a smooth plait and draped over her shoulder. It contrasted nicely with the simple, white dress she wore. The garment was plain with no lace or glittery embellishments, but it fit her snugly and was very becoming on the young witch. Its long white sleeves covered the plethora of tattoos that snaked up around her arms and her torso.
Do you think they’ll forgive me? Petra turned, her silent question burning behind her forest colored eyes as she regarded the vulture’s reflection just over her shoulder.
‘You mean will Darja forgive you?’ Phyria blinked in response and clicked her beak. Petra turned to face the bird; they both knew she was right. The rest of her family, even her coven, would not forgive her for this transgression. She was leaving them all behind, never to be seen or heard from again. If she ever dared to return, she would probably be hexed on sight.
‘Your sister loves you. I think she knows how much this means to you and she wants you to be happy. Of course she will forgive you.’ Phyria shifted, flapping her wings slightly to adjust her feathers.
And Bori? Do you think he really loves me?
If the vulture had been able to roll its eyes, it certainly would have. ‘You know, for a powerful witch, you’re very insecure.’
Petra scowled at her familiar, though she refused to admit that the bird had a point. She couldn’t help it. When it came to matters of spellwork or magic, she operated with a fierce confidence. It was in her very blood, and she understood it in a way that was different from others in her coven. It was what made the priestess choose her as a candidate for succession.
But love, emotions? Intangible matters that caused her heart to skip a beat or her stomach to fall, those were the things that Petra was unsure about.
‘I think that if he doesn’t love you, he’s a fool.’ Phyria shook her head and began preening herself. Petra smiled.
‘And if he doesn’t, I will gladly peck out his eyes.’