Rosaendra had passed out before she was through the threshold to her apartment. Ashley pulled her to the bed and laid her down.
“What were you doing, girl?”
The older woman pulled the leather jacket off of Rosaendra and moved aside the hockey armor. She gasped when she saw the bloodied bandages. She pulled out her phone and dialed 911, before deleting it. Rosie must have had her reasons to ask her not to, instead she put in another number.
“Chloe? Sweetie?”
“What is it, mom?” There was a bit of aggravated tiredness in her voice.
“Can you please come to my friend’s house? She needs help.”
“Mom, it’s nearly one in the morning.”
“I know sweetie, please. She’s in real danger.”
“Fine. What danger are we looking at?”
A bit of rustling beyond the phone let Ashley know that her daughter was getting ready.
“It looks like she was attacked by an animal or something. Her arms are all torn up, and she’s cold. Real cold.”
“Where’s the wound?”
“All up and down her arm. It’s bandaged up but it’s still bleeding.”
“Okay, Mom, listen to me. Take the injured arm and raise it above her heart, okay? Have you called an ambulance?”
“No. Chloe, I think someone did this to her. I think she’s trying to hide.”
Ashley explained as she grabbed Rosaendra’s arm and raised it above her head. She let it rest on her shoulder.
“Why do you think that?”
“I saw a man following her out when she left work today.”
“And that’s why you didn’t call an ambulance?”
“I think he might be someone important. Who will know where she’ll be if she got in an ambulance.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Why else would she ask me not to call?”
“Perhaps she’s done something...illegal to get those wounds?”
“Rosie?” Ashley scoffs, “Never.”
“Do you happen to be O-, mom?”
“Blood type? Yeah. So are you.”
“I know. I’m going to bring some things to do a transfusion. Are you okay using your blood?”
“Of course! Just hurry up.”
“What’s the address?”
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Ashley pulled out a pocketbook and told the address written in it to her daughter. After that, the line went dead as the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut cut it off.
“You’ll be okay, Rosie.” Ashley brushed a lock of the girl’s red hair out of her face.
Meanwhile, Rosaendra found herself within the temple again. The white smoke was intoxicating. Alluring. It led her through the darkness until she was at the foot of the throne of Hecate. The Goddess brushed away the hanging locks of her brown hair away from her thin, olive face. Rosaendra bowed her head.
“Am I dead, mother Hecate?” She asked, with her eyes directed to the ground.
The marble floor caught her voice and repeated it a dozen times over as it traveled to the high ceilings of the adyta.
“You are not, child,” Hecate replied. “I have brought you back here to reward you for your victory.”
The goddess’s voices rolled off of everything all around. The pillars, the floors, the stone of the throne. Off the curling smoke of the incense, and off the darkness. As if Hecate was speaking all around Rosaendra.
“Reward?”
“Yes. You have given two souls over to us, and we have turned these souls into mana. Mana we can use to strengthen you.”
“Strengthen me? How?”
“Take the Book from your pocket.”
Rosaendra pulled the book from the pocket of her leather jacket.
“Open it.” Came the next order.
Rosaendra opened the book. On the back of the front cover was a table with her name, and a few other aspects about her. Written in ruby ink.
Name Rosaendra Atherton Age 26 Occupation Librarian/Initiate of Hecate SP 2 Strength 8 Endurance 10(-3) Perceptiveness 8 Magic
10(+5)
Creativity 12 Intelligence 14
“What is this?”
“It is the information about you contextualized in a form that is easy to understand.”
“Why?”
“Witchcraft is, first and foremost, sympathetic,” Hecate responded.
“So what? I use the SP to increase these numbers. What would that do?”
“Make you stronger. Smarter. Faster. Increase your reflexes. Any number of things.”
Rosaendra drummed her fingers across the floor.
“The mirror had told me that I was able to increase the efficacy of my blood? Could I do that instead? I’m satisfied with my body at the moment.”
“Indeed we could.”
The table vanished, and in its place was a horizontal flow chart. It stemmed from a section labeled, “blood magic.” From it, three stems flowed out of it: one to a box labeled as, “burn,” another to, “blind,” and another to, “seal wounds.” There were others coming out of it. Rosaendra spent some time looking through it. There were options like, “bind,” and “clot,” that she could choose, coming out of the blind and burn respectively.
“What in particular are you looking for?” Hecate asked.
“Something that I could use to heal myself,” Rosaendra responded.
“Then, might I suggest this one?”
The page fades and soon one labeled, “hedge magic,” replaces it. The first table in this flow chart from whence all of the others flowed out was labeled, “basic herbal knowledge.” One of the ones further down the lines was glowing a bright white.
“Salves?”
“Yes. With that, you’d be able to make a variety of useful things in the future. To obtain it now, however, will require both of your available SP.”
“I’ll take it.”
The two sections lit up, and Rosaendra’s head began to swim as knowledge flooded into her mind. She knew now the basics of herbology, and the basics of herbal medicines, and herbal poisons.
She also knew, now, how to harvest datura correctly in order to increase its efficacy, and knew how to differentiate parsnip from hogweed. She knew, too, how to mix them to apply on one’s body in order to heal, and in order to hurt. She knew, too, how to scry with them, and how to use them to visit distant places in her dreams.
“Thank you, mother Hecate.” Rosaendra pressed her forehead against the marble. It was warm, and soothing, like a mother’s hug.
“We will meet again, oh daughter of mine.”