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SISTER'S BETRAYAL pt 3

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--- Sister’s Betrayal – Part 3: Ashes in the Garden By Ernest Leonard Sr. The scent of burning sage hung heavy in the garden, though it did little to cleanse the air of its tension. Cracks splintered the sacred circle, the same one where the sisters once danced barefoot under the moonlight, whispering old chants and secrets. Now, the soil bore the scorch of broken oaths. Liora stood still in the center of the ruin, her hands trembling. Her cloak clung to her, damp with sweat and smoke. The High Priestess stared at her with the cold stillness of judgment, her silver circlet catching the firelight. “I never meant for Elowen to be hurt,” Liora whispered, her voice barely rising above the wind. The Priestess’s face hardened. “You invoked blood magic,” she said, her tone sharp as obsidian. “Jealousy is not an excuse, child. You let it poison the rite. You severed the balance.” Behind them, under the sheltering limbs of the old Rowan tree, Elowen lay still. Her aura, once radiant, was now ba...
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Sisters Betrayal 2

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--- Sister’s Betrayal – Part 2 By Ernest Leonard Sr. Posted on mysticalwiles.blogspot.com The sky above Willow Creek hung low and bruised, streaked with clouds that hadn't moved in days. Magic was heavy in the air—Elara could feel it tugging at the corners of her mind like cobwebs spun from bitterness and blood. She stood at the threshold of the Grove of Binding, her grandmother’s amulet clutched tight in her hand. It pulsed faintly, warm against her skin—a charm of protection, but also of truth. Elara would need both. For deep within the grove waited her sister, Seraphina, who no longer walked the path of light. As Elara stepped between the black oaks, whispers stirred—echoes of old spells and broken promises. Each step brought memories: Seraphina laughing as they danced under Beltane fires, Seraphina weeping when their mother passed, Seraphina disappearing into the woods one stormy night, never quite the same after. Now, her sister had poisoned hearts and bent minds. Lovers had t...
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SISTER'S BETRAYAL pt 1

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In the quaint town of Willow Creek, nestled deep in the heart of the forest, lived two sisters who were as different as night and day. Elara was known as the good witch, her powers rooted in healing and protection. She was beloved by all in the town, her gentle nature and kind heart earning her the trust and admiration of the townspeople. Her younger sister, Seraphina, was a much darker witch, her powers steeped in manipulation and seduction. She was envious of Elara's popularity and sought to overshadow her sister at every turn. Despite their differences, the two sisters had always been close, their bond unbreakable or so Elara thought. One fateful night, everything changed. Seraphina's jealousy and resentment boiled over, leading her to betray her sister in the most heinous way possible. Using her dark magic, Seraphina seduced the men of the town, twisting their minds and hearts to her will. The once peaceful town of Willow Creek was thrown into chaos as relationships crumble...
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Betrayal !!¿

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Title: Ashes of Inheritance Part II: The Witchthorn Betrayal --- Alexi didn’t remember standing. One moment she was half-dreaming in the fog of her feverish bones, the next she was face to face with her aunt—Elira—who clutched a mirror that bled shadows and dripped with stolen power. The air buzzed with invisible wasps. Her magic. Hers. Being drained. "You lied to me," Alexi said, voice low but not afraid. "All these years. You lied about everything." Elira's face didn’t twitch. “I gave you everything, child. Shelter. Food. A name. You were a burden I bore for the good of the Craft.” “My mother was your sister.” “Yes. And she stole what was mine,” Elira spat. “That birthright should have been mine. I studied longer. Bled more. She just... glowed and it came to her. Like you. You shine without effort. It's disgusting.” A cold wind swept through the room. Alexi didn’t move, but the temperature dropped with her breath. From behind the cracked mirror, Mara peeke...
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The Birthright

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Title: Ashes of Inheritance Part I: Blood Ties and Binding Spells --- The rain hadn’t stopped for three days when Elira Mournshade brought the child back to the old house on Hollowmoor Ridge. The stone manor, blackened with lichen and secrets, stood like a mausoleum above the village—grim and hungry. Elira liked it that way. She cradled the babe tightly in one arm, her own daughter asleep against her chest in a woven sling. The two girls, born mere hours apart on the Blood Moon, lay quiet—one wrapped in white silk and the other in deep crimson. Opposites, yet mirrors. “You’ll thank me for this someday,” Elira whispered as she stepped inside, shutting the door with a spell. The iron bolts sealed with a hiss, and the storm retreated to the background, like a sulking ghost. --- Twelve years later, the girls stood side by side in the circle of black salt. Alexi—Elira’s niece—had grown into a fierce-eyed girl, her dark curls untamed, her magic wild and untrained. She smelled of bonfires and...
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The Out Come. !!

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--- PART III: THE RISING Chapter Nine: Return of the Marked They emerged from the Root beneath the sacred moon, their skin aglow with the glyphs of trial: gold, silver, and green. The land around them sighed with recognition. Rowan felt the shift first—magic moved through her not like a tool, but a rhythm. The air obeyed not commands, but harmony. Thistle lifted her hands and water from the river danced in spirals. Lira coaxed fire from moss without striking a spark. Maren touched dead soil and flowers erupted in bloom. They had not returned as rebels. They had returned as emissaries of the Earth itself. When they entered the village again, heads turned. The silence was different now—not fear, but awe. “The Council must listen now,” Rowan said. “We no longer ask for permission.” They walked together toward the Tower. --- Chapter Ten: The Fractured Throne Inside the Tower, the Council stirred. Elder Morae stood tall, though lines of age had deepened. “You return from judgment. We did no...
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Councils Voice

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--- PART II: THE TRIAL Chapter Five: Roots Below They fell, not through space but through memory—visions of green forests, erupting volcanoes, collapsing stars. Time thinned until they landed, not on ground but in a realm pulsing with life: The Root. It was Earth’s living soul—neither heaven nor hell, but trial by essence. The Root was endless forest, black soil, and glowing fungi. Trees breathed here, and vines listened. A voice boomed around them. “You seek to correct balance. Then be weighed.” Rowan rose first, blood dripping from a cut on her cheek. “We accept.” Each witch was marked by the land—symbolic glyphs burning into their skin. Lira’s glowed with fire. Thistle’s shimmered like water. Maren’s formed from twisting vines. Rowan’s bore wings—dark and feathered. They had not only been summoned—they had been chosen. The voice thundered once more. “Three Trials. One for the Body. One for the Spirit. One for the World. Pass, and the balance shifts. Fail, and be forgotten.” The tree...
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