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[h1] ⊱ 𝐍𝐲𝐨𝐭𝐚 “𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐚” 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 ⊰  [/h1] 

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[sub]When a guard dog is alerted to an intruder, it will bark and snarl, heckles raised, ears flattened. Maw foaming, fangs exposed, a rumbling growl in its throat. Nora Gravesend, in this moment the protector of The Waxing Circles parameters, had the same proprietorial defence as a guard dog. But that fear, that urge to defend and protect, resided entirely behind the emotional veil she’d pulled over her face. She’d ironed clear  any signs of visible alarm, her pupils the only diagnostic. Her Mother would’ve wanted her to flee, to raise the alarm. But some breed of stubborn determination rooted her bare feet to the ground, still crouched and braced for the intruders first move. Her Mothers nagging tone (always soft but undeniably nagging) rang out in her mind. Nora shook her head gently, to rid herself of the additional narrative she simply didn’t have space for. Already her brain was busy with an array of escape plans, attack plans, combat sequences, offensive magic… The shadows continued to coil and ripple at her command. 

Then, she watched as the mysterious stranger summoned a shining golden apple. From thin air. A bolt of adrenaline shot down Nora’s spine. That was why her magic net had snagged on this stranger’s arrival! She was blessed by Magic’s hands. This was no ordinary philanthropist admiring the nighttime scenery. Her steed gladly chomped into the apparition, skin cracking, juicy flesh bubbling around the horses bridled muzzle. Nora noted the softness with which the intruder looked upon her horse. There was an easy gentleness in the way her hand petted the generous mane. Suddenly, the redheaded woman looked up, body still facing the palfrey. It was difficult to decipher their colour from the verge, but those eyes had a crystalline luminosity that pierced through the forest haze. 

 “[i]Good evening, good witch[/i],” she called out with a melodic lilt, accent difficult to place. “[i]You can relax the shadows, we only mean to travel through, and quickly. No trouble from us… If that would be alright with you?[/i]”

Nora’s head cocked, fluffy brows arching  in surprise, as if it had indeed been the horse that spoke. The Witch, moonlight dappling across her porcelain skin, didn’t immediately dispel the shadows.

“[i]Good evening, [u]Sorceress[/u][/i]” she called, voice almost spitting out the word. 

The title felt fat and blasphemous on her tongue. Her sibilance stained the air, only accentuating the hiss with which Nora spoke. That was a rivalry established in the womb. The classism between born and learned magic was age-old. It was bred into Witch genetics, a disdain that bordered on hatred. Nora couldn’t swallow back the venom that immediately catalysed in her throat, a sneer threatening to pluck at her upper lip. Sorceresses didn’t stray to Witchwoods; They had entire societies abundant they dwelled in. Exclusive and bourgeoisie. Nora’s humble form adorned in the simple linen dress and naked toes juxtaposed the Sorceresses’ lavish tailoring. Leather gloves, leather boots, golden thread hemmed daintily at the cuffs of a rich tunic. Her cheeks were full. Blushed with a healthy pink dusting. She looked… Almost regal. This only added to Nora’s confusion. 

“[i]Forgive me[/i],” she drawled facetiously, eyes narrowed across the moonlit stream. “[i]But I’ll keep the Shadows readied for now. We seldom see the likes of you round here. It would be unwise to lower my defences so quickly. At your command, no less? Not likely.[/i]”

Nora angled her hand, flashing a quick symbol that commanded the Shadows to delve deeper, to comb through this Sorceresses essence. They snaked across the dirt path obediently, caressing the edges of where the Sorceress stood. They didn’t touch her. They didn’t need to. Darkness knows darkness. Dark recognises dark. And if this Sorceress meant any harm, if she were something of a danger, the Shadows would be able to tell her. Yet as they trailed toward the intruder, they seemed to recoil at her presence as if hitting an invisible barrier. Once again, Nora’s brow furrowed with confusion. This was most unusual. She’d never come across this. Her Magic was potent and well-versed. The Shadows had an omnipotence that was powerful if wielded effectively. How had this Sorceress repelled such an energetic force? With seemingly no spell casting. No chant. No hand symbols. Nora huffed. She supposed that was a perk of being inherently magical. This Sorceress did not have to chant nor learn spells or incantations. She could simply summon an apple and shield herself from the Shadows. 

“[i]Travelling through?[/i]” Nora echoed, her dark eyes scouring the Sorceress. “[i]A Sorceress beyond the Walls of her kingdom? Slumming it with us in the Winnows?[/i]”

Her tone was clipped. Defensive. Despite this woman’s calm exterior, her power was undeniable. People lied. People deceived. Especially those from born magic. They were notoriously slippery. Nora kept her protective shield raised, taking a few more slow steps towards the Sorceress by padding along the verge. 

“[i]It is not for me to grant you permission to pass. The Earth decides who walks[/i],” as Nora began to close the distance between them, she noticed that those radiant eyes were bright green. Like the moss atop the bark behind her. “[i]However, I will tell you that you have crossed into Warded territory… But you knew that already. You would’ve sensed that when you passed over our threshold.[/i]” 

A quick arch of her brow.

“[i]Which, evidently, you ignored.[/i]”

The horse whinnied, tossing its mane, those heavily lashed hazel eyes watching the Witch approach. Hooves stamped nervously. Nora’s eyes softened as she eyed the steed. 

“[i]Be still[/i],” she hushed, tone switching to something like honey and cotton as she implored the horse to relax. “[i]I’m not going to hurt you, pretty one.[/i]”

A cool breeze rushed through the woodland branches, whipping Nora’s jet black locks across her shoulders. A strand remained across her face, so dark against the white paint that divided her angular features in half. 

“[i]The same can’t be said for you, Sorceress[/i]” Nora mused, eyes flicking across her form. “[i]Be candid. Why do you wander here? Your people don’t travel. You certainly don’t travel through Witchwood. So why? Why is it that you venture so deep into the thicket?[/i]”[/sub]