[center][h1][color=bc8dbf] ⚞ [u]WREN[/u] ⚟[/color] ⋰ ⋱ ⋰ ⋱ ⋰ ⋱ ⋰ ⋱[/h1][/center] [right]___________________________ [sub] ๑ Chapter 1 - Welcome to Corinthia ๑ Friday 6th February 6:15AM [/sub] ___________________________[/right] [indent]Wren’s arrival had timed concurrently with five others. For her part, this had been unintentional; a fluke, or coincidence; a happy accident, as some might call it, that their gracious host would only need to exercise the formalities of a welcoming once before permitting entry into the Corinthia home. Outside of her own lack of agency on the matter, Wren knew better: Magicka, and the universal forces it operated through, had their way in almost all things. She may not have been a Celestial Witch, but the years of the sort crowding into her headspace beyond space and time had been enough of a mentor to teach her better. A coordinated gathering of otherwise strangers such as this didn’t happen by random chance; the others, like herself, had been carefully guided here through the machinations of magic that best resonated with them. And it had all been orchestrated to bring all of them to this very doorstep at this very moment. Wren trembled from within. Whether or not this truth made her feel objectively more sure of what she was doing, she wasn’t sure. So much of where she was, had been, and was yet to go had been out of her control to begin with. The decisions and actions of countless generations prior to her had woven the line that led her to the point she now stood in; she could forgive most of them, as few could have foreseen the consequences of what they had done, known that they’d condemned the last of their line to an unenviable demise if their works couldn’t be undone. To think that this venture, in which Wren intended to wrest dominion over her fate, had been yet another manipulation by powers above and beyond her… the irony wasn’t lost on her. The train of thought had grown too distressing to stay aboard. So Wren turned outward to perceive her fellow arrivals. The first of them, Gregori, she had overheard as his name, was young, but looked and carried himself beyond his years; Celestial, perhaps? The Witches attuned to the cosmos often looked older than they were, some even going out of their way to play the part. For the moment, he felt strangely out of reach to Wren. Then there was their host, Juniper Hawthorne. She had a strong, firm presence as she occupied the threshold between the arrivals and the interior of the mansion. Yet there was a peace to her strength, a steady groundedness that compared to fierceness that usually accompanied such a powerful presence. Her lack of footwear, barely noticeable beneath her dress, and the closeness with the large Raven perched itself upon her hinted at one with a deep connection to the Earth. The Raven stole much of Wren’s attention as she felt its eye land upon her, and heard its chirping into the ear of its human companion. A brief unease took Wren, but a voice not her own spoke out through her soul: [i]“The Raven approves.”[/i] Wren nodded, and fell at ease, as, if nothing else, she would start herself off on a proper footing with the mistress of the house. Of the rest of the arrivals that filed forth behind her, Wren gave most only a cursory measure. There were the McKinelys, introduced by the young woman of a punk-presenting pair, which Wren deduced, by the shared last name and modest resemblance, were of the same family. They both embodied the feeling of being on edge, though their means of managing it were, at a glance, distinctly opposite, with the girl being more brazen, and the young man opting to hold back whatever was waiting to lash out; one saw the precipice and leapt forth from it while the other watched over the edge from a safe distance back. Then there was the one named Soren. Wren smiled at his comment about having packed snacks for the journey to get to Corinthia, but held herself shy of audible laughter, doubting she could do so without it sounding disingenuous. She noted an underlying gentleness to him, and the surface nervousness that had prompted his joking. Lastly, and most impactfully, there was Noah [though not yet announced by name]. Her arrival had been the loudest, spoken in a distinct accent, and with little care for censorship or staying her sarcasm; she emanated an essence of not caring what anyone else might think; Wren didn’t doubt it was a trait she would do well to pick up from this colleague in Magic. Compared to the other, even Juniper, Noah drew an uncanny degree of Wren’s focus. It wasn’t to do with any physical qualities she possessed (the Wren was quick to inwardly confess to finding her attractive. Nor was it any feeling towards the manner in which she had announced herself, though, just the same, Wren had felt the confidence admirable. What pulled Wren’s attention like a magnet was the energy of her ancestors pulsing through her. In her heart, she felt something that spanned time and space. A common thread. [i]“This one is a lot like you.”[/i] Another voice cut into her inner-thoughts. [i]“Yes. Another whose Magic flows through lineage.”[/i] [i][color=bc8dbf]Another Hedge Witch? How can you tell?[/color][/i] [i]“We feel the past around her.”[/i] Was she, perhaps, pertinent to Wren’s personal objective then? The deep desire to forge an immediate connection raged with Wren’s soul. But the scene unfolding would not have taken well to her taking the center stage in such a way, and she lacked the unconcerned disposition of her fellow Hedge Witch. She resigned to a prolonged, poorly masked stare from a distance, hoping that [Noah] would be aware enough to notice, but not so much as to think or feel too strongly of it. When the group was adjourned to settle into their respective lodging, Wren heaved a relieved sigh, and began up the house’s grand staircase to find herself a suitable room. It didn’t take long with her ancestors guiding her decision, finding a room that looked spacious, perhaps more so than it really was, not far from the top of the steps. “Perfect for all of us,” she said to the unseen spirits of her family past. A warm feeling assured that most, if not all, of her predecessors approved of the sentiment. Closing the door to the room behind herself, Wren began the process of unpacking her belongings into her new home. She had traveled light for her initial coming, deciding that, should things progress positively, she could always send for more of her personal effects. For now, she had brought the essentials of clothing, hygienics, some preferred meal items such as a coffee cup, and an assortment of incense and candles to facilitate her routine rituals. Anything forgotten, or needed after she was properly settled, her Grandmother could surely bring, or have delivered; it wasn’t like she was far away. A short way into the unpacking, as she hung up a knee-length winter coat, Wren felt a sudden coldness. It was a familiar sort of feeling, the means by which her guiding spirits caught her attention when they noticed something not quite right. “What is it?” Wren asked quietly. [i]“There’s someone else here.”[/i] [color=bc8dbf]“Uh… Yeah. There’s six people in the house?”[/color] [i]“NOT WHAT WE MEANT!” “Someone… not of the physical plane.”[/i] Wren stopped, and dropped the blouse she had just placed on its hanger, which landed with a light [i]clack[/i] on the hardwood floor. She turned around slowly, and opened the door to her room steadily, and as quietly as possible against the inevitable creaking that characterized old houses. She stepped out, instantly setting foot on the landing at the top of the stairs, and looked down at the front door of the house. [i]“See? See it? See… Her?”[/i] [color=bc8dbf]“No.”[/color] Wren whispered. [color=bc8dbf]“Nothing. No one.”[/color] [i]“You really need to train your mind’s eye to perceive the spirits around you dear. It would really help you--.”[/i] [color=bc8dbf]“Why? So I can see a circus of throwbacks everywhere I go?”[/color] [i]“Not the time kid. Try calling out.”[/i] Wren breathed deep, and eyed the front door with scrutiny. [color=bc8dbf]“He-- Hello? Was that you down there, Juniper?”[/color][/indent]