I do not often speak of my mother. My sisters had been close to her, but I was closest. We shared a bond like no other.
My mother had been descended of an royal ancient line of Priestesses that even time itself seems to have forgotten.
I often think as I stood watching the Temple of the Rising Sun crumble to the ground with my little Ana what our lives would have been like had she not died. How would it have changed?
She was glorious, our mother. She could conjure the magic like no other Ive seen since her passing, and will not again.
She had often said to me as a small child; you are my greatest power here on this planet. You will be trained to excell even myself.
Then she would hold me against her, and I was comforted by her blessed scent of flowers. Now the time had come for me to use the magic I had been taught; to save our people, and our Island but I was not sure how to begin.
I often wished in those final days of both battle and destruction that she had been physically with me to help us. She always knew what to do, and how to weild the Power.
Wishing I understood was only for silly, naive girls unschooled to their gifts. Wishing does not bring the dead back to life.
Even as I watched yet another of our magnificent Temples fall my sisters Marwen and Cyn joined me and Ana at the front steps of the Palace, the last place that had not yet been destroyed….one by one my sisters gathered; tenfold we stood against the horrific storm to come, I wondered if I could emulate my mother’s magic, and the level of her power.