Enchanted: Tree of Life

Enchantment 1

1807

Charlotte prided herself on being well knowledgeable in the skillful art of house managing, saying the least that she had been raised by a prudent witch who had never let one speckle of dust stand on her hearth. Charlotte had also managed to possess a great degree of intelligence while also having a knack for spell casting and enchantments. But at the moment none of those great aspects that she prided came to any use, mayhap all but spell casting, and though Charlotte apprehended that turning her new head maid into a worm would solve nothing, still didn't mean she hadn't wished to do it.  

"For heaven's sake, Kathie" the apple-tart voice of her old head maid reprimanded. "Must you screech at the sight of every cobweb? I have told you many times, I am trying to get things done this morning and I can hardly do so if you insist on bellowing at every turn." Charlotte set her quill on her heavy mahogany desk. She knew her manor was indeed a very odd sight to a fresh young maid; it could even be a scene straight out of a nightmare. There were bones everywhere. Savagely beaming skulls, washed-out ribs, and shattered femurs were scattered about like so much like the littered ruins of an ending battle field. Chunks of limestone with teeth and fingers and other odd bits embedded in them were stacked on the pain of the windows.  

If the new maid hadn't settled in a week past, Charlotte promised herself that she would relieve her of the horrid home. Saying that she had put up with the chits constant babble of love and passion drove Charlotte to the edge of madness. Kathie came highly recommended by the same man who had provided Bess, Charlottes old head maid who was far better about her wits and knew what had to be done in the home. When Bess fell ill Charlotte knew she had to see the same man to hire anew. She never thought that highly suggested would be so irritating.  

"I seen it ma'am, I swear it on me mothers grave" Bess adjusted her spectacles in an annoyed fashion, her hands managed to find their way to her broad hips. "Saints bones child, what are you babbling about this time?" Kathie gathered her skirts and ran down the staircase, Bess and Charlotte waited before hearing the slamming of the door. Charlotte rubbed her temple. Her Grandmother would be attending dinner in her hall this evening and she had no maid other than Bess who would even stay long enough to see the whole house. Charlotte sighed exasperated. She stood frustrated almost knocking the chair over, Charlotte walked over to her bookshelves; scanning to find the appropriate book in situations such as these. From her perspective the manor needed a good dusting and a good mop, wax, and sweep. The silver needed to be polished, the fireplace had to be cleaned and scrubbed, potions and ancient text had to be put up and out of the way. The cooks would have to scrub the pots the kennels, all the liquid remedies simmering would need to be moved to the stone shelter in the back of the manor, things had to be done. Charlotte had to use an encryption that would take quite some Magick. She had only dabbled in Encryption Magick, it was quite powerful and when used the wrong way was referred to as black magic. Charlotte pulled out a leather bound book smaller than all her other books with ancient text and magick literature. There was a small tap on the door to her study,  

"Ma'am, it seems that the next head maid ran off after Caine frightened her, that meddlesome bird has been all sorts of nuisance in my early sequestration." Charlotte nodded; Caine had become a problem recently. She would discuss it with Grandmother when she joined her in the hall for dinner. Till then Charlotte scanned the small leather bound book till she found the inscriptive that she wanted. Reading encryption magick was almost as hard as doing it, the text was enforced by the Magickal Law to do nothing but house work and small magickal doings. And because the Magickal Law is "all powerful" and certainly unbreakable Charlotte did her best in just needed a few household chores done. Charlotte mumbled the small incantation, and the winds were sucked out of her to the point that when she could breath, her throat erupted in mounts of blood soaked ruptures. The feeling of fatigue washed over Charlotte. But even so the wash rags from Bess's sack and the duster surrounded by charming silver light began dusting the skull fragments and scrubbing the pane of the window. Charlotte gracefully sat down in her chair; even small magickal readings seemed to take away her breath. Bess sucked in a sharp breath,