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[color=7bcdc8][INDENT][B]
[SUP][SUB][H3]Salem, Massachusetts[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR][INDENT][sup][color=silver]October 1st, 11:45 a.m. | Sage's Cottage-Washington Park | Collaboratioin with [@smarty0114][@SamaraJayne96][/color][/sup][/INDENT]


[i][color=7bcdc8]"Mom?"[/color] Sage called out as the beginning of a dream began to take hold. Usually, when her deceased mother visited her in dreams, they would always meet at a place that the two of them had created years ago. A sort of sanctuary to practice magic and take a break from the nuances that usually occurred within the physical realm. The world they created was filled with lush green gardens that would put the Garden of Eden to shame. Everything was bountiful and beautiful, almost picture perfect. Even though it was always sunny in her dreams, there would always be a slight breeze keeping the temperature at a comfortable 70 degrees Fahrenheit.

This time, however, all Sage could see was darkness and destruction. The area that surrounded her this time resembled that of her neighboring town. Salem was only a few miles through the woods, down at the edge of the river. The difference between Salem and this place was... well... It was as if someone... or something destroyed the village. The usual paved and prim streets were now cracked and partially crumbled. Cars were turned over and a few buildings seemed to have collapsed. Citizens were trying to evacuate. Screaming for their loved ones, their cries sounded like a dull roar. Ultimately the scene looked as if they were now in post-apocalyptic times.

BOOM!

Not too far from where she was standing, a vehicle that had been laying on its back exploded. It almost looked as if an unseen figure cast a fireball spell right on the cars exposed gas tank. The shock was enough to render her immobile for a few seconds before she snapped out of it and moved to find shelter. Her intuition sensed an impending doom that was suffocating. A black magic that she prayed she would never come across. Her stomach churned at the very thought.

[color=7bcdc8]"Mom?"[/color] She called again, feeling like a small child; scared and confused. She needed her mother. She needed someone she trusted. Someone to protect her.

Cautiously, she maneuvered around foreign objects that she could not make out in all the chaos. After turning around a corner, a hand grasped her shoulder from behind causing her to spin around. What she didn't expect was coming face-to-face with a pair of blood-red eyes. They crinkled with malice as a triumphant laugh cackled out of their throat.[/i]
[hr]

[color=7bcdc8]"STOP!"[/color] Sage screamed as her tears cascaded down the sides of her face. She noticed her pillow was damp with sweat. A few tendrils of her hair were glued to her profile as if to mimic ivy growing on tree bark. 

[color=7bcdc8]"Another nightmare."[/color] The witch murmured as she leaned over to turn on her bedside lamp.

For months now, the very same nightmare seemed to haunt her. Kind of like a movie, the dream would play over and over, the same events occurring from start to finish. Never was she able to see what happened before or after the setting she took part in. It wasn't for lack of trying though... 
The room began to spin as Sage attempted to control her breathing. Whenever she had panic attacks like this, she always seemed to hyperventilate.

[color=027465]"Woah, Lunarie! Are you alright?"[/color] A male voice called beside her.

Alarm coated her every nerve and she felt her blood run cold. Sage lived alone in a small, but cozy, [url=http://www.wildcat-studios.com/work/art/Fantasy/large/witchcottage1.jpg]cottage[/url] in the middle of the woods just outside of town. She chose this place on purpose because she couldn't stand to be around others. In fact, the hike from her [url=https://i.pinimg.com/originals/61/2a/5c/612a5c88d728a823e99a305f1ce7ce2c.jpg]front door[/url] to where she had parked her car was easily a quarter of a mile. Only an introvert would appreciate that quality. She literally lived off the beaten path... Which made it even odder that there was someone else in her home. Having been raised in one of the toughest cities in America, Sage was always taught that there were a few rules that a New Yorker should always follow. One, always keep your money in your front pockets; and two, always keep a weapon under your pillow.

As if on instinct, she quickly rolled onto her back and reached under her head. Hidden there was her athame, a small knife that she used for rituals. The handle was carved out of moonstone and displayed intricate markings leading back to a Nordic origin. The blade itself was made of silver. Perfect for werewolves. With a battle-cry that would have made Gerard Butler from [i]300[/i] proud, she wrapped her petite frame around the intruder. Legs formed around his waist while one hand grabbed hold of his hair. The other had pressed the blade against his throat.

[color=7bcdc8]"Who the fu-"[/color] Sage began.

[color=027465]"Stop! It's me Quinn!"[/color] The intruder yelped as the knife bit down and drew blood. Instead of removing her weapon, she froze unsure of what to do. Sage had half a mind to maim anyone that invaded her privacy. Growing up, her father did enough of that to last a lifetime.

[color=7bcdc8]"What the hell are you doing here Lynch? I told you I don't like unexpected guests... or any guest in general."[/color]

Quinn winced as the knife cut into his neck. Instinct kicked in, and he let his hands drop from his throat, before shoving them towards the floor of Sage's cottage. A gust of wind blew through the home and tore the knife from her fingers. Successfully flinging the weapon across the room where it clattered against the wall before falling to the floor. Quinn brought his hands to the ones that were gripping onto him in an attempt to forcefully disengage from the situation. He threw her onto the mattress and stepped back with a staggering breath.

[color=027465][b]"Maybe, if you stopped trying to kill me, I could explain."[/b][/color]

Sage's eyes went wide. Incredulous, she sat up and threw a pillow at him.
[color=7bcdc8]"YOU'RE the one who broke into my house and yet I'M the bad guy."[/color] With a roll of her eyes she faced him and crossed her arms.

As fast as lightning, Quinn caught the pillow and tossed it over his shoulder. Wincing, his hand rose to his neck, and shortly after he muttered an incantation under his breath. [color=027465][b][i]"Alliges duplicia sano, alliges duplicia sano."[/i][/b][/color] A soft light poured out through his fingers, and when he brought his hand back, the cut was scabbed over. Hardly healed, but the bleeding had at least stopped.

[color=027465][b]"You are one mean fighter Lunarie, I will give you that."[/b][/color] Quinton said, shaking his head and chuckling.  [color=027465][b]"I came by to come recruit you to help with the booth at the Founders Day Festival. My mom's sick and you clearly need to work on your people skills."[/b][/color] The warlock explained, pointedly eyeing the knife. 

[color=7bcdc8]"Surely you jest sir."[/color] Sage mumbled before standing up and making her way towards the open closet situated in the corner of her small room.

The girl across from him had become something of a friend in the past few months, though the episode with the knife might not show it. Willow, her mother had been a member of the coven in Salem, and his mother's best friend since high school. In fact, she had been the Supreme witch before the unfortunate accident resulting in her death. In an attempt to resurrect her deceased husband, Quinton's mother, Rachel called upon black magick to aid her in her plea. After casting the spell she soon found out that the magick she had channeled required a life for a life. It was Willow who stepped in, nullified the spell, and in turn gave her own life to save her friend. The tome supposedly had been destroyed, it's ashes scattered to the winds. Rachel had been insistent on his looking out for Sage when she came to town, and so he'd come to recognize what her baseline was, and right now this was not it. 

[color=027465][b]"Are you good, Lunarie? You seem... frazzled."[/b][/color]

Sage stepped into her closet and pulled a shower-like curtain behind her to make it into a make-shift dressing room. The curtain was made of hemp that had been dyed blue and woven into a Mandala symbol. Even though she couldn't stand to be around others, even though the thought of leaving her home depressed her, she had to go to the festival for Rachel. If not for Rachel, then for the coven that she had just been sworn into. Her mother used to lead the coven called, "Light of Polaris", so it was Sage's job to maintain its reputation. That and Willow had only good things to say about her and good memories to share... Besides the obvious.

After changing into an [url=https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cd/df/c1/cddfc19f3d3bff7de4cbb3677d906ea4.jpg]outfit[/url] more presentable for the public eye, Sage stepped out of her closet and shot Quinn a death glare.

[color=7bcdc8]"This is your fault."[/color] She mumbled while walking past him. 
She eyed her front door warily and stopped.
[color=7bcdc8]"How the hell did you get in here anyway? I always lock my door and- You know what? Nevermind. I don't want to know."[/color] 
She pulled her hair over her left shoulder and began french braiding it until it came down to her waist. With a heavy, almost mournful, sigh she collapsed once more on top of her bed. Like a dead corpse, her emerald eyes glazed over as she stared up at the ceiling. Glow in the dark stars smiled back at her. A few with literal smiles drawn on their faces.

[color=7bcdc8]"To be honest, no. I am not okay. I keep having the same nightmare over and over. And lately, I have been getting bad vibes. It sounds crazy I know, but it's like my stomach is eating itself for no reason. Experience has taught me that that is a sign that something bad is about to happen."[/color]

She peeked over at him half expecting Quinn to take her to a mental asylum right then and there. Sitting up in bed once more she bit her lower lip and simultaneously bounced her right foot. Both seemed to be nervous habits of hers. This is why she couldn't stand humans. Their psyche was way too unpredictable. Animals tended to be true to their instincts. As long as you eminated positive energy they either left you alone or become friendly. Turning to her right, Sage saw her car keys and cell phone on her bedside table. She picked them up and noticed a few notifications on her lock screen. Six missed calls and two voicemails... All from her father. She groaned inwardly and slipped the electronic device into her back pocket. 

Quinn stared at Sage for a moment before speaking. 
[color=027465][b]"I wasn't going to say anything about this, but, the same shit's been happening to me. Crazy dreams, or at least, I thought they were dreams. Now, I don't know, I'm starting to think they might be visions."[/b][/color] 
He stated, his mind seeming to wander off. He conveniently avoided the recurring scenes concerning the book he'd hidden away in his closet, and the death's of himself, and everybody else in Salem. That info would probably be safest with Sage, but the thought of revealing it all made his heart skip a beat.

Quinn glanced down at his watch and let a curse fly out of his mouth. 
[color=027465][b]"We're gonna have to shelve this creepy vision conversation for now. We've got a booth to run,"[/b][/color] he proclaimed as he 
headed out the cottage door toward his [url=https://cdn.gearpatrol.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/vintage-motorcycles-gear-patrol-bmw-60.jpg]motorcycle[/url]. 

Sage watched him walk outside, her eyes slit in annoyance. Town... they were going into town. A place that Sage did not frequently visit and was not particularly fond of. She only made the trip into civilization once every two weeks or so. Mainly for minor errands like groceries and such. Or to visit the shop of Curious Curios where their coven meetings are held. Sage never thought she would join a coven. It was always assumed that she would be a solitary witch... but that is a topic for later reflection.
She placed her keys, cell phone, and a few other personal items in her [url=https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/91sntuntyuL._SX466_.jpg]olive green messenger bag[/url]. Also making sure to include a few premade potions and enchanted trinkets. You never know what you may need when it comes to other people... Anything could happen. And with her reoccurring nightmare, she felt better having some premeditated protection with her. 

After looking herself over in the mirror, lacing up her hiking boots, and locking her front door, she exited the cottage and began mozying down the winding trail that led to where vehicles could park. Seeing what type of vehicle Quinn expected her to travel on caused her to stop dead in her tracks. 

[color=7bcdc8]"Yay... human contact. Awesome."[/color] She muttered sarcastically as she approached him.

Quinton wordlessly handed a goose-egg shaped helmet to Sage and slipped his own protective gear over his head. He straddled the bike, and when he felt Sage wrap her arms around his torso, he started it up, racing out of the woods along a dirt path. The old motorcycle had belonged to his dad, though his mom had enchanted it years ago. It never broke down, or ran out of gas. Though it did need to be taken to his mom every few months to have the enchantment redone. That was less a sign of the enchantment's strength, and more indicative of how Quinn drove it.

As they exited the woods, Quinn sped up even faster. The wind, almost deafening, rushed by as the duo flew through town. He smirked slightly when he felt Sage cling to him harder and shout in surprise. After a few twists and turns, he began to slow down as they pulled up to Washington Park. He nudged the kickstand down with his foot, and wrenched off his helmet, before turning around to look at Sage. 

[color=027465][b]"Founder's Day awaits, Lunarie."[/b][/color] He grinned, a little too excited. Quite possibly at her demise.

[color=7bcdc8]"Oh I can hardly wait."[/color] She grumbled as she dismounted and took off her helmet.
Taking a look around she noted a few booths set up around the area. While she could appreciate the few trees the park managed to preserve, it was a far cry from the forest she had currently resided in. That, and there were a LOT more people here than she expected. Almost as if all of Salem had decided to attend today's festivities.

[color=7bcdc8][i]I wanna go hooome.[/i][/color] She whined inwardly, trying not to wince at her surroundings.

Quinton led the way through the throngs of people, looking back every so often to make sure Sage was still following him. As they walked he noticed that she seemed to tense and withdraw into herself.
The Curious Curios booth was set up near the center of the park, the hub of activity. The booth was covered with various knickknacks. Most of them had been sold to his mom from various Salem residents, or travelers. Porcelain dolls, old books, antique lamps, dream catchers. The people of Salem had an eye for antiques, and for whatever reason, they loved his mom's shop. The items his mother made were stowed in behind the booth, away from prying eyes. Those were the more interesting curios. Enchanted rings, spellbooks, dream catchers that actually worked, those were where the money really was for his mom. Supernaturals needed the things his mother provided, and they'd often pay a hefty fee, both for the enchantments, as well as secrecy.

Behind the booth, two foldable chairs were set up, and Quinn quickly planted himself in one, giving the park a quick scan. He noted Ambrosia Sanguis, and one of her lieutenants. He could sense the black magick emanating from her, so similar to the tome he had tucked away. It was enchanting almost the same way a lion stalking its prey might be. So dangerous, yet so, so tempting. 

[color=027465][b]"All we've got to do, is watch the booth, sell some shit, and make sure nobody dies."[/b][/color] Quinton said, looking over at Sage. He was only half joking about the last part. When all the supernaturals in Salem convened, as they were likely to do today, things had a nasty habit of going south, very fast. 

[color=7bcdc8]"Aye, aye Captain."[/color] She said with a salute before claiming the seat beside him.
In an effort to avoid eye contact she pulled out her phone and began mindlessly scrolling. A text popped up just then. From her father. Of course.

[color=39b54a][i]"Please come home."[/i][/color] Is what it always read.

[color=7bcdc8][i]"I am home."[/i][/color] Is what she always replied.