FILLOS Elizabeth Tudor: Ancestry of Sorcery

ELIZABETH TUDOR:Ancestry of Sorcery Part:1

Part 1: Discovery

January 1536

Hatfield House, Hertfordshire

Lightning flashed and thunder clapped, illuminating the stone hall and sending vibrations strong enough to nearly shatter the glass panes. Those fragile frames rattled as they stood between Anne and her comeuppance. Rather shoddy defenses, unfortunately. The dark tempest outside was like a herald, and there was nothing, despite all her talent, that she could do to silence it now.

As she hurried away from the barrage of rain and wind, her body rebelled against her wishes, the pain of it hunching her over. She closed her eyes to fight back the sting and immediately saw the face of her lifeless son behind her lids. His motionless body had come from inside her less than a week before, and the sadness, pain, and fear that surrounded the event clawed at her focus.

Henry would kill her for the death of his son, and he would do it soon. She absentmindedly lifted her ringed fingers to her small, pale neck. When it started throbbing—she realized that she was desperately caressing herself—she forced the hand slowly down, and sped up her flight.

Lightning again broke the darkness that surrounded her. The thunder that immediately followed sent a jolt through her body that made the small hairs on her neck and arms stand up. It refocused her and she whispered, as if to the night sky, "I know, I know!" Her legs moved as swiftly as her sore body, and the decorum expected from a queen of England, would allow. Urgency drove her to consider lifting her skirts and running, but years of prudence forced the thought from her mind.

The storm was silent for a moment, as if the power of her renewed vigor temporarily quelling nature's raging. In that silence, Anne heard only the clicking of her leather-soled riding boots on the hard granite stones and the swish of her silk skirts. Finally, she rounded a corner that would thankfully take her away from the windows and into the candlelit interior of Hatfield.

A door up ahead opened, and Anne instantly slowed her pace and calmed her features. It was only a servant who exited the door. He bowed very low as she passed, likely wondering why the queen was not at Hampton, still in her birthing bed. Feeling the servant's presence following her forced her to continue her measured speed. The slowness infuriated her, so she closed her eyes and felt the pull of the moon. It was already in the right spot in the heavens and, if she did not hurry, she would miss her one and only opportunity.

Concentrating, she took the power that lay in her mind and pulled it around her like a thick, shining blanket of brightness. Instantly the glow of moonlight surrounded her. She normally did not have to think about the process. It was instinctual after so many years. However, at this moment, she carefully savored every detail of what she did. This would be the last time she would ever use her power. Of course, the servant would not be able to see it in all its celestial glory. Only Anne could see the beautiful gift God had given to her.

With the power caressing her skin and the light blending with the strength of her mind, she wrapped the thought of the servant's face with the desire for something basic, something that would shift his focus from her. Then she directed the power she held in her mind at him as she whispered, "Quickly! You need to find a privy!"

She closed her eyes and willed the small orb of light to leave her and go to the man, then released the power. Her skin instantly felt cold and her steps heavy. It would only take a moment to sink into his mind. She lifted her skirts and began to run just as the steps behind her quickened and turned down another hallway.

She took the first corner slowly, but then scrambled up the steps that lay before her. The door she was heading for was not far now. Finally, the candlelight revealed the tall, thick wood that separated her from her only living child—from Elizabeth.

Without pausing, she forcefully pushed the door aside and entered the quiet chamber where her three-year-old daughter slept. Hoping not to wake the nursemaid, Lady Bryan, Anne hastened across the floor and pulled back the bed curtains and blankets. Gently, she gathered up Elizabeth's small body and stepped back to the door.

Eventually she wound around enough corners to bring her to a window facing the moon. Anne's black eyes glanced hopefully to the full moon in the sky, surrounded by stormy clouds. As she looked down at her child, she was surprised to see Elizabeth's dark eyes staring back at her.

"Mama," Elizabeth said with a quiet voice, and Anne smiled and embraced her, emotions finally overflowing. Her cheeks were soaked before she realized she was crying. As she squeezed Elizabeth to her chest, she did not hold back a single tear.

Suddenly, thunder clapped, and Anne's eyes shot angrily to the night sky, but then she pulled back and looked into her child's face. Ever obedient to her will, the moonlight encircled both her and Elizabeth.

"We have only moments, my love. This is not the way I would have liked to give you the most valuable gift I have to offer, but I fear this will be the last chance I have." Anne pressed her forehead to her daughter's, and, in a shaky voice, whispered the words she had never uttered aloud, but knew as well as she knew she was the Queen of England. "I willing pass to thee, my chosen daughter, that gift which my mother gave to me and her mother gave to her. By the power of the moon and the mind, let it be given."

Just then, lightning choked the light of the moon out of discernment, leaving them both in the pitch of darkness. A light appeared, coming from deep within Anne's chest. There in the dark, cold, stormy night, the power that had been with Anne as long as she could remember—in her thoughts, radiating throughout her body—that power departed. It revealed itself as a small glowing orb, which parted Anne's lips as it left and entered Elizabeth's mouth in the same manner. Anne found herself wondering during this transfer what this small mystical sphere could be, but she felt its absence as soon as it was gone and was distracted by the void.

Elizabeth's eyes lit as the gift entered her mind. Anne knew the small child instantly felt the pull of the moon, for her head moved toward the heavenly yellow object which, as Anne saw now, was almost completely covered in clouds. She could no longer feel its eminence in her mind and panic struck, for she knew not having the power would assure her fate.

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