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 turned on one another. Friends no longer spoke. A town that once trusted witches now eyed Elara like a venomous toad.

"She’s expecting you," came a voice.

Elara turned. A raven—obsidian feathers slick with dew—watched her from a low branch.

“Kalrix,” she breathed, recognizing Seraphina’s familiar. “Still spying?”

He tilted his head. “Still hoping she can be saved?”

Elara pressed forward, ignoring him. The heart knew what it must do.


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The grove opened into a clearing where the veil between realms thinned. There stood Seraphina in a gown of midnight silk, her hair braided with serpentbone and shadowroot. Her eyes—once the same shade of warm honey as Elara’s—were now twin moons, pale and distant.

"You came," she said, smiling as though they’d planned a picnic.

"You’ve twisted everything," Elara said. "This isn’t what our craft is for."

Seraphina stepped closer. "The craft bends to will. And my will was to stop being the forgotten one, the second sun. I became what the world feared—because fear commands respect."

Elara held up the amulet. “You command fear. I offer love, even now.”

A gust of wind swept the clearing, spiraling between them. The trees groaned. The earth hissed. Seraphina’s smile faded.

“You’d really fight me?”

“I’d rather save you.”

They raised their hands at the same time—moonlight in Elara’s palm, ink-black fire in Seraphina’s.

The clearing erupted in blinding light.


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When the magic settled, Elara lay breathless beneath the silver ash tree—the place where their mother had been buried.

Seraphina knelt beside her, bleeding from the corner of her mouth. The amulet flickered between them, cracked but glowing.

"You bound my power," Seraphina said, voice like wind through dead leaves.

"No," Elara whispered. "I shared mine. If you want love, you must hold it… not take it."

Tears pooled in Seraphina’s eyes—real tears this time. For a moment, the dark around her shimmered with uncertainty.

The curse wasn’t broken. Not yet.

But the bond between sisters had been touched by truth. And truth… is the beginning of healing.


EKLSR

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