Days Go By.

Chapter 1: The Vision

I sat in the middle of the clearing, the soft marshy grass soaked the bottom of my skirts.I fold my legs beneath me, it soaked my knees too. The thick foggy air fills my lungs the sound of cows and sheep in the distance, my ears. A tuck a stray lock of dark hair back into my braid. My fingers graze the smooth wooden bowl before me. The bowl is full of red and white flower petals. As the wind flows across my neck, I begin to speak. "Great mother changer of tides, help me see where my future lies. The village people are filled with fear a stranger came and shed a tear. His cough came with a splash of blood, that opened the doors And began a flood." I stirred the petals. "The people are dying, their anger is flying, mother above green father below, tell me what off our future do you know?" I throw the petals into the air the cool breeze picked up and swirling them violently. The red red and white petals spun and crackles like smoke and fire. In my head I heard screams And saw thousands dying. Their faces covered in black rot, blood dripping from their lips. I saw my people being burned and our  way of life dying. Our coven, the most powerful of Scotland will die. The vision ended. the now strong wind carried the flowers quickly away and all the warmth in my body with it.  I stood and ran deeper into the woods towards our home. I skidded to a stop at the trunk of the largest oak tree I've ever seen. Tonight is the Sabbath of Mabon To honor the green God's decline. I pull the elk horn dagger out of my boot where it rests. The trunk must he ten feet wide and is covered with soft moss. This is my first journey to this end of the forest. Now that I am fifteen I am old enough to do just about everything I scramble up the tree with ease using the thick ivy as foot holds. I cut a young branch for the altar, tuck it in my belt, and put the knife away.  Sliding gently down the trunk, I land on the ground and take off running towards home. I hop over the brook and past herds of deer that have no fear of humans. Our house is a dugout carved from a small hill. The front is built up of large grey field stones. There is a door made of wood and deer hide. I push it open dramatically and see our surprisingly well lit home get even brighter. The windows in the sod walls give us no need for candles during the day. On the floor, building the altar for Imbolc is my mother, father and grandmother. They lay out crystal points of amethyst and quartz amongst fresh oak leaves, brown candles and yarrow. They look up beckoning me to join them. "Grandmother I had a premonition"
   " speak it child" she cooed. So I regaled them with my grim vision.

Authors note.
Sorry for the short chapter I promise they will get longer. Bear with me and please comment and give me some feedback. Good bye