The Trials

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. There weren’t very many things Morgana Thane was sure of, but the arrival of dragons to Ellingwich and Bloodstone Valley was one thing she was absolutely certain of. Dragons had made an appearance at the same time she was shipped off to an orphanage in the Outer Lands, sixteen years ago. After her parents death from a tragic house fire, she was sent to a non denominational orphanage in the city of Ellingwich. The orphanage took in all types of witch’s offspring without judgment. Now, she still lives in the Outer Lands, just closer to the coast, technically in Wild Sand territory. It was much nicer to live by herself than with hundreds of others. Even if she had to hike Bloodstone Valley to get into town for supplies.

The Outer Council was in an uproar, as usual, about what to do with said dragons. They hated the way the dragons were unruly and created chaos among the townspeople whenever they fought over fresh kills, mates, or accidentally set fire to the nearby Savaston forest, occupied by the Elves. Morgana ran through all the problems the Wild Sands and Outer Lands had lately as she trekked through the Valley. She hiked the highest trail of the mountain that overlooked Bloodstone, mostly for how beautiful it was in Spring, and just a little bit because she was afraid of the dragons. She would never be used to their shiny array of scales, or talon tipped tails, nor would she ever be able to get over the fact one could gobble her up like an afternoon snack if it felt like it. Though, the dragons never harmed anyone to her knowledge. Accidents certainly happened but they never went out of their way to be malicious to any animal or person.

So, Morgana braved the hiking trails, the quickest way to Ellingwich. She made a mental list as she trekked down the small mountain. She could already hear the hustle and bustle of the main road leading into the city. In another half mile her trail would merge with it, and she would be led right into the city. She would stop at the post first. She wasn’t exactly sure when the last time she checked it was. The fairies would disown her soon enough for her full box of mail. She would have to leave them extra offerings at the Summer Solstice festival. Maybe then they wouldn’t fuss at her so much when she came in at the last minute.

Because she was certainly cutting it close today. It had taken longer than she had anticipated to get to the city and she had minutes to spare as she skidded to a halt in front of the post office, wrenching the door open, and nearly hurtling inside. Her noisy entrance earned her a glare from Davina, the fairy in charge of the office. Morgana dipped her head low and tried her best to keep the smile off her lips, even going so far as biting them.

“Mor! Hello Mor!” a small fairy with dark cobalt hair and fuschia colored wings zoomed around her, tossing letters and pieces of enchanted notes into the wall of boxes that took up an entire side of the large space. She wore an all teeth smile, every tiny tooth razor sharp.

“Hello to you, Nixie. Busy day?” Mor asked as she tapped the corner of her box, allowing herself access to grab her mail. Every box had a signature touch-to-open ward. The fairy’s were clever creatures and Morgana loved how full of life they were. Nixie had more energy in her body than Mor had in her smallest fingernail. Mor looked up from her mail while Nixie came down to her eye level to talk.

“Oh goodness, Mor. It has been a madhouse! Something is going on, straight from Coven members, no gossip. It has everyone coming to check the post. It makes my job hard! The witches are acting strange. I thought surely you would be here by now to let me in on whatever exciting news has struck.” Nixie floated around, dancing in the air as she spoke, eyeing the clock. Mor chuckled. Even Nixie reprimanded her about the issue of tardiness. Fairies.

Mor could think of nothing of relevance happening that would cause such bizarre behavior. None of her friends had mentioned a thing. Summer Solstice wouldn’t be causing such a buzz this early. It was still a few weeks away. Mor was coming up empty handed.

“Sorry Nix, I don’t think I can help you out. I can’t think of anything off the top of my head.” Mor watched as the rambunctious fairy crossed her arms and huffed. It was a cute little pout for something the size of Mor’s hand. Nixie liked gossip more than she let on. Mor usually had tidbits of information thanks to her two best friends, Jasper and Shia. They were more social and kept her up to speed on all the drama between covens. Mor wasn’t really too interested.

Nix went back to sorting while Mor thumbed through her mail. Witch Weekly, ew. Witchling Happenings, boring. Potions Masterclass, been there done and that. Everything seemed to be trash, all junk, except the velvety black envelope at the bottom of the stack. Mor ran her manicured nail over the edge, it was soft, no sharp spots. The front merely said, You are cordially Invited… she felt her heart beat in her chest. Why was she nervous? It was just a piece of mail.

She held her breath as she slipped her finger under the back, breaking the matte black, embossed seal. Mor’s hands shook, ever so slightly, as she opened and took out the simple black card from the inside. The breath she had been holding whooshed out of her, taking with it nearly all her energy. She had to be reading this wrong. She turned the card over and over. There was no signature, no name, no address. This had to be a mistake. She was no one. How had she managed such a feat?

Morgana stared down at the card again. She was cordially invited to participate in a competition being held by the Head Coven. There were only twenty-six participants. In all the country, there were only twenty-six witches chosen to compete for the hand of the Soul Coven’s eldest and most powerful son. There had been rumors he still hadn't found his bond mate. Shia had told her that eons ago. It seemed, after careful consideration, the Head Witch took this route. It was an old tradition that had been discontinued. Yet, somehow, it sprang back up and Mor had made the list of participants deemed worthy enough to compete.

What was she going to do?