The Sun and Her Moon- Remus Lupin

The Story of the Woman of Helios

The night had fallen still, and Aveline felt herself reaching for the book she had knicked from the vault. Her fingers moving across the pages, as she felt herself be swept into the world of the 1300s.....

1367

Expectations perhaps can be more equivalent to burdens. Shackling you down into a version of life you don't care for, nor you wish for. It can make a person feel resentful, depressed even, as they become a slave to a future that is not for them

Mallory Balcom was one of these people.

Mallory Balcom was one of those people who craved adventure in her every breath. The type of woman was born with rivers dancing through her veins, and starts dancing in her eyes. She dreamed to see, to experience , to live with every part of her she had.

There was many reasons why she couldn't do this, but the most important one is the fact she was a woman in the year 1367. Regardless of the fact that she was a witch, her duties were still the same as muggle woman— marry, have kids. That is it, and that is all. There was nothing more then that.
She was no more then 16 that year, a witch of little skill she would be soon expected to marry and most likely suffer extreme pain during child birth.

Mallory Balcom was the type of young lady who liked to spend her days sneaking out to the meadows behind her little village, and letting herself run free. Mud caking her pale feet and debris flying into her wild blonde curls.

She was also the type of young lady who would do anything to not have to marry.

"He's a pig! Nothing but a foul pig!" she shrieked at her aging father, when he informed her of the decision he was making to marry her off the widowed man three doors down.

"You need a husband! And with your behaviour no man will take you!"

Fights like this happened often. Her parents reprimanding her for being to wild, fists being thrown in her face and her hair being yanked.

It wasn't her fault, she was merely a girl.

It was on one particular night of a harsh fight, In which Mallory fled her small home with blood running down her nose, tears in her eyes, that perhaps the little witch had flown to close to the sun. She was angry, boiling angry as she let out a shriek in the meadow of her home.

Knowing exactly what she ought to too.

For the next couple months Mallory stayed quiet. Doing everything her parents pleased and acting on her best behaviour. Though when the sun went down she was sneaking out the creaky back door, running to the meadow till she came across an abandoned barn with stained wood she had known to become quite acquired.

And here, in this tiny little run down barn with rats and rotting boards, is where Mallory Balcom planned her escape.

At first it was a lonesome thing. The girl sitting with a couple of wizarding books she stole from her father, trying to teach herself spells that could help. They didn't teach girls any of the important spells. Only the ones for cooking and cleaning and such.

Though slowly, word started to spread to the other young village witches. Girls of similar ages and circumstances who whispered into eachother ears the tales of the Balcom girl.

"I heard she's teaching herself real magic. In the little barn north of the sunflower meadows."

It was news travelled in dark corners as young woman met to knit blankets, weave baskets and gossip about their daily chores and future husbands. None of them dared to whisper a word of it out loud to anyone who wasn't young or a woman. For certainly that would end with them and Mallory being hung by their neck in town square