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New Orleans 
1862
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	Hekate sauntered down the streets of New Orleans, a black and white parasol keeping the sun’s hot breath at bay. Spring had arrived hand-in-hand with the Union soldiers, who, a month earlier, occupied the once Confederate city and placed it under martial law. Of course, Hekate was not bothered by the north’s presence there; she held no love for southern morality, only their desperation. With war came social depravity and rebellion, both acting as a door to the Otherside in their own way, and this city was more attuned to her world than any other in North America. 

	She smiled and nodded at the soldiers dotting the streets who howled and whistled as she passed, fascinating all of them with an unassuming glance. [color=MediumPurple][i]A pox on your family, a plague on your fields, misfortune upon your unit,[/i][/color] she incanted in her mind. If another could hear her thoughts, they might think her cruel, but Hekate knew these men’s hearts. When set loose they acted as dogs and barbarians, rummaging through the wreckage they had caused, firing upon civilians indiscriminately, treating the southern and freed women like ornaments. To Hekate, both the Union and Confederate soldiers were swine. She took not the sides of men, but the sides of the oppressed, those kept enslaved by both north and south. In her mind, she was the only true champion of liberation.

	Hekate rounded corner after corner, her leisurely pace interrupted only by the occasional carriage. Eventually, she made her way into a small Spiritist shop which stood at the end of the street, hidden from view by vines growing off the balcony. A sign outside read, [i]Madame Lestrange’s House of Wonders.[/i] Hekate smiled as she read the sign, pulled back to vines, and walked inside to be greeted by a portly, elderly woman with bright silver hair and cloudy eyes. The shop itself was filled with expensive decor in red and golden hues, and the shelves were lined with books on Spiritualism, divination, the works. 

	[color=MediumPurple]”Bonjour Madame,”[/color] Hekate greeted the Madame as she entered the shop. Madame Lestrange turned at the mystery woman’s voice, and upon seeing Hekate smiled and bounded over to her, giving her a quick hug and a kiss on either cheek, a gesture Hekate gladly returned.  

	“Bonjour ma chère!” Madame Lestrange greeted her with energy unbefitting of her years. Despite her size and age, she moved as quickly and nimbly as a child, and her eyes, though greyed, still maintained a youthful spark. “What brings you to my corner of New Orleans? I wasn’t expecting you until next Thursday.”

	[color=MediumPurple]”Can I not pay a visit to a dear friend?”[/color] Hekate replied, Lestrange giving her a knowing stare. 

	“No no, I know you, Susanna. You don’t come down this far into the city unless you need something.” 

	Susanna Wilde was Hekate’s current disguise, a character of her own invention. She was the daughter of a wealthy plantation owner, a position not uncommon in the area, and his sole beneficiary. Her “father,” or a man whom she had convinced was her father, had died of a heart attack upon her arrival in New Orleans, making her, perhaps not entirely in line with tradition, the lady of his estate and business. Of course, Hekate freed all of his slaves once she took his land, but any mortal onlooker who passed by the estate would still see tired, dejected men and women working the fields. 

	Hekate, as Susanna, came across Madame Lestrange shortly after her arrival and joined her circle of Spiritualists, men and women who believed that, through mediumship, spirits could be petitioned for information. The movement was at its peak during Hekate’s stay in New Orleans, and she quickly turned the groups eyes from simple divination and communication to full blown witchcraft. Their coven met on Thursdays to conduct all manner of magic, and the Madame took requests from believers in the community . . . for a fee.

	[color=MediumPurple]”How can one so shriveled and blind as you have such powers of perception?”[/color] Hekate joked with the old woman, who scoffed at her comment but smiled anyway. [color=MediumPurple]”But you’re right, there is a reason behind my visit. I’m sure you’re aware of a certain Marie Laveau?”[/color]

	Lestrange nodded. “Yes, she’s a fine woman, not so active these days, but that daughter of hers makes plenty of noise in the streets with her shouting and prophesizing. I had my hair done by Madame Laveau a few years ago when she worked in the French Quarter and it was a privilege to meet her.” 

	[color=MediumPurple]”I’ve heard the stories, she sounds quite powerful.[/color] Hekate genuinely liked Marie Laveau. She was a free born woman who used her powers for the benefit of her family and community, but she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. The “Voodoo Queen” of New Orleans was certainly no title to cough at and she garnered Hekate’s respect for her influence over the city’s Haitian and white citizens. Laveau had gained an entire city’s respect, some even worshipped her like a goddess. Hekate knew this veneration well, she longed for it, but more than that, she longed for the freedom of an entire city, state, or country devoted to the Otherworld. So, she devised a plan. [color=MediumPurple]”Our little circle has grown in the past year, but it couldn’t hold a flame to the community that Laveau has built. Which is why I suggest that we expand, build a stronger community of witches, black and white. Oh, think of it Madame!”[/color] 

	Lestrange saw the glow in Hekate’s eyes and couldn’t help but be swept up in her ambitious imagining. It was quite the proposition, and the Madame was climbing up in her years. “Susanna, I need to thank you.” 

	Hekate was caught by surprise. [color=MediumPurple]”Whatever for?”[/color]

	“You gave me hope in my old age. Before you came it was just me and some high society folk looking for some excitement, but then you came and you brought something real, something potent. I’m getting old, and I wouldn’t dare ask you or anyone else to undo what time has done,” she began to sniffle, a few stray tears streaming down her face as she spoke, “but I’d give whatever time I’ve got left to see the kind of world you have in mind.”

	Hekate smiled and hugged the old woman, who took a moment to cry tears of joy on her shoulder. [color=MediumPurple]”It has been my pleasure, Madame.”[/color] Hekate consoled Lestrange, her words genuine. Not often had she been able to have this sort of relationship with mortals. The heroes of old certainly, but they didn’t appreciate her or her gifts. Her ancient followers perhaps, but few were as loyal as Medea and Circe. But here, now, she had a mortal friend who wanted nothing from her, but everything for her. 

	The Madame stepped back and looked Hekate in the eyes. “I’ll reach out the every Spiritualist in the state that I know, tell them to round up their circles and friends and head to New Orleans. I’m sure every one of them will want to hear what you have to offer.”