The room was only lit by the embers of the fire in the fireplace.  Their glow cast eerie shadows around the room, flickering over the minimal furniture to create shadow beasts.  A woman sat in front of the fireplace, murmuring to herself as she tossed herbs into the fire.  The smoke of them filled the air with a hazy fog, allowing the shadow creatures to hide and peek.  She paid the dancing shadows no mind.  Her eyes were firmly placed upon the embers.

[b]“Hissing cat.”[/b] She tossed more herbs into the fire. [b] “Snarling dog.”[/b]  Another plume of smoke. [b] “The clawing of a babe as the sister smothers her shrieks for life.” [/b] This time she placed a log onto the fire and it bloomed into light, forcing shadow to take cover.    [b]“Kin kill kin,”[/b] she whispered to the flame.  [b]“I call out.  I beg.  Let them see our crying face.”[/b]  She took a knife from in front of her and slit open her wrist.  Red life trickled from the open gash and she held it over the fire.  The flames sizzled and sparked as it greedily sucked up the fluid.  [b]“One and same.  Face to face.  Water to blood.”[/b]  She brought her wrist down to the burning log and the scent of her searing flesh overpowered the smell of burning herbs.  She winced and furrowed her brows as the pain of the burn overtook her senses.

With, a gasp the woman fell backward.  Above her, in the rafters of her cottage, the drying herbs swayed.  The dancing shadows congregated there while the fire flickered.  She watched them for a long moment and wondered if it had worked.  She lifted her arm and inspected the burn carefully.  It was not too horrible, it should heal with minimal scaring in time.  She lifted herself from the floor and lit a candle.  Carrying it with her, she approached a large cupboard from which she took a small tin and bandage.  She slathered a sharp smelling salve over the burned cut and then wrapped it in the gauze.  It was blissfully cooling.

She carried the candle out of her small cottage.  The garden out front was lit by a full moon.  She walked the stone pathway to her gate.  Above her, the stars were nearly outshone by the lunar mother.  The woman could only just make them out through the break in the trees that consisted of her clearing in the forest.  A mere mile away the town slept.  In her, dreams she had seen dark things come to pass for those they deemed witches.  Devil worshippers.  She hoped her spell would abate that.

A warming summer wind rushed past her and the leaves sang her a shuddering song.  She prayed that it would carry her spell and awaken the town before their foolishness became murder.  How many would it awaken, she wondered.  What would their new powers do?  Excitement rolled in her gut, but it could not edge away the fear that what she had seen would still come to pass.