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 trees opened.

And the First Trial began.


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Chapter Six: Trial of the Body

They entered a grove of bones.

Not dead things—but memories of movement: broken limbs etched in bark, teeth grown like fruit, muscle woven through vines.

“Your trial,” said the voice, “is to survive what man endures and woman bears. You must face hunger, fatigue, fire, and pain—without aid from spell or herb.”

The witches were stripped of power.

A storm hit.

Lightning cracked the sky, rain freezing cold. Lira built fire with her bare hands. Thistle sang softly to stay awake. Rowan walked until her feet bled, gathering roots with bare fingers.

By the fifth night, they hadn’t eaten. Maren collapsed.

Rowan lifted her friend, dragging her on.

That night, the trees bloomed.

They had endured.

From above, the wind whispered. “The Body knows struggle. You remember.”

Light poured down. The first glyph on their arms turned gold.


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Chapter Seven: Trial of the Spirit

The second trial began in stillness.

Each witch stood alone in a mirrored glade, faced with their shadow—the part of themselves they most feared.

Rowan’s reflection stepped forward, eyes like dying stars. “You love a man in defiance of the craft,” it hissed. “Do you seek balance—or validation?”

“I seek truth,” Rowan replied.

“But you enjoy rebellion.”

Rowan closed her eyes. “So what if I do? Change needs fire.”

Her shadow smiled and vanished.

Lira saw herself as a child—powerless, begging to be accepted. Thistle faced her death. Maren wept as her reflection accused her of apathy.

One by one, they made peace with themselves.

When they emerged, they bore marks not of pain—but of wisdom.

The glyphs turned silver.

And the Earth said: “The Spirit remembers. You are worthy.”


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Chapter Eight: Trial of the World

The third trial was not given—it was.

They awoke in their own time, in their own village.

But something was off.

Children were silent. Trees bore no fruit. The moon hung low, red and angry.

No one remembered their names.

The witches had returned to a world without their rebellion—a version of life where the Council’s ban had never been questioned.

Ash passed by Rowan on the street and didn’t see her.

“No,” she whispered. “Not like this.”

They scattered across the village, speaking, shouting—but no one could hear.

Lira stood in the market square and cast her voice into the wind: “Balance must include difference. Without change, the cycle dies!”

And then—

A single child looked at her.

Then another.

One by one, people began to see again.

Magic returned in a ripple: birdsong, blossoming herbs, clouds giving rain.

The world chose to remember them.

And the final glyph turned green as new life.

They were pulled back into the Root.

The voice now spoke not in warning, but in welcome.

“You are of the Earth, and Earth is change.”

And the witches rose—forever changed, and never alone again.


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Would you like to continue with Part III: The Rising now — where the witches bring their rebellion into the heart of the Council — or would you like to revise anything so far?
********
EKLSR 

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