Marigold Bellamy's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

Mari lay awake past midnight. Tomorrow she had to walk back to Lyle and beg for work. She needed coin to fix the roof and open the inn. Trying to convince herself she would be fine to sleep was futile, every time she closed her eyes, one word returned. Irene. The merchant wouldn’t elaborate and she couldn’t ignore the multiple people that flinched at her family name. The manor library sat behind a cedar door off the main hall. Mari ran her hand along the shelves until she found it. An old leather book, cracked at the spine, with Bellamy written across the front in green cursive. She carried it to the table and opened it. The first page had a simple statement written. ‘The names of Bellamy witches will follow the mother, as they have for a millennia.’ The following pages listed names and dates. Births. Deaths. Marriages. Each with brief descriptions of the day, or details of the person. Towards the end of the written pages she found her grandmother Claude and her marriage to Stefan. Finally the last written lines ‘Early winter, full moon, snow falling, twins are born. Isla Bellamy, green eyes, golden hair, born with the magic. The elder twin. Irene Bellamy, green eyes, orange hair, born with the magic. The younger twin by seven minutes.’ Her mother never told her about her twin. She was always secretive of her home, but to leave out a whole sister? A loud stomp turned her attention away. "Shouldn’t be looking for thing’s you don’t wanna know." She turned. That tall fae stood at the foot of the stairs. His suit was navy and white, pressed even at this hour. Theodore. He had dodged her for days. Now he watched her with cold blue eyes. "You knew her," Mari said. "Irene." "I knew all of them." He crossed the room. “Tell me what happened. Why would my mother never mention her?” “Trust me, little witch, you don’t want to know” Crossing her arms she stood firm. Staring him down. Green eyes blazing with yellow, a look he was familiar with. Sighing. “I suppose I can indulge you. It’s not a pretty story.” He sat. “The Bellamy’s have lived here for a little over half a century. The town used to love them, they really loved Claude. I thought she was a bit overzealous and annoying myself” A grin filled his pale face. He continued. “To understand Irene you need to understand the power of twins. Twin witches hold a power that when used together can make dreams come true. Or nightmares. As they got older Irene became interested in these wild ideas. She started studying the great witches of old. That conquered Kings and ruled with fire and vengeance. She craved that power. Isla was entirely different than Irene though, and was happy with the power she had. She loved the gardens. Her ability to grow things. Every time her twin asked about spells to merge the power, or stories about twin witches ruling continents, she would brush her off. When Irene was thirteen she learned blood magic. She began draining the life and power from animals. It wasn’t noticeable at first until her sixteenth birthday when she drained her first human. Her power grew tremendously and her raid didn’t stop. Two more townsfolk had passed when her parents stepped in to stop her. She killed them.” Mari gasped “How did my mom survive?” “She barely did. When it began her parents sent her with Olga to a town three days ride away. They returned after your grandparents death. They didn’t come alone though. It took five witches and me to take her down. Your mother was injured badly. The total death for the town of Lyle was eight people at the end.” Mari's stomach dropped. "Did you guys kill Irene?" "We believe so, when the ritual was done all that was left was ash. Dione believes Irene may have escaped though. Last I heard she was still out looking for her." He looked at Mari plainly. Mari gripped the table. "My mother ran from this? Left her home to heal alone?” "Your mother survived it." Theodore shrugged. "I don’t blame her for running to Solmar. Olga shouldn’t either, and certainly not you.” He turned toward the stairs. "The townspeople won’t ever trust you, not fully, at least now you know why” He climbed the steps and was gone. Mari sat alone with the open book, her eyes empty. Perhaps Theodore was right, she didn’t want to know.