For witches of the Sisters of the Dying Branch coven, each summer begins with a bang. On each year's summer solstice, the elders hold a party to usher in the new season. It's the longest day of the year and an auspicious one. And, once every three years, they hold an initiation on this day, to bond young witches to a wellspring for the very first time. It's an exciting event, a rite of passage, and one met with plenty of partying. New witches are welcomed to the coven with open arms and plenty of barbecue. In these years, the summer solstice party is even better.
This year is one of those years- a year in which witches will be initiated into the coven. It's the summer solstice- the sun is high in the sky, the air is heavy with humidity and heat. And there is a gathering going on at the coven house. It's one of the most extensive gatherings of the year. Hundreds of witches gather on the coven's sweeping swath of property in the Appalachians for a party, ready to celebrate and welcome new witches to their ranks.
The smells of barbecued meats, veggies, and fruits waft from the grills and the tables full of cooking and cooked food. A variety of pitchers full of sweet tea, lemonade, and some stranger looking concoctions rested on the tables as well, slowly gathering condensation. But the ice never seemed to melt, staying frozen after hours of sitting out in the sun. And the food too never seemed to cool off or grow old- it stays in the same state for hours upon end. Witches young and old swarm the food tables, loading their plates up with food and drink. But, beyond the food, witches wander the grounds. They sit at various picnic tables sprinkled around the grounds, chatting with friends that they haven't seen in a long time. There are groups casting spells together near the forest. Children streak across the field, too, seeming to be playing some odd version of tag that involves flying and various other castings. Games like cornhole and hopscotch are set up across the field, entertaining various witches.
But, beyond the Fourth of July-esque party, the true attraction of the gathering is the initiates. A wooden picnic table is set aside for twenty or so soon-to-be witches, and it's decorated specially- an embroidered black and gold table cloth is set out, as well as several other party favors such as goody bags and nice-looking necklaces. A few initiates that live at the house are already there, and witches crowd around them, congratulating them and even gawking a little. Elders, conspicuous in their black robes, also dot the premises. Although there are fewer of them than others- most of them seem to be inside the house, preparing for the ritual to take place later that night.
As the day goes on, more and more witches trickle in. Dozens turn into hundreds, filling the field almost to the brim. The sun reaches its peak in the sky and then dips down, casting its rays upon the coven.
Once the sun sets, witchlings turn into witches.
Take a sip of my secret potion / I'll make you fall in love / For a spell that can't be broken...
An older pop song blasted through the car radio as a yellow Jeep pulled to the side of the winding mountain road. Once she had gotten herself straight, the girl driving put the car in park. She needed to get out of the car, but this was such a good song. It never came on the radio anymore, which was a shame. So, she let it play until the end, bobbing her head along to the rhythm. And then... well, another banger came on the radio. So, of course, she had to listen! Before she knew it, a half-hour had passed, and she hadn't even stepped out of the car. Fuck. She tightened her hands on the wheel. Surely they didn't need her until sunset, right? She could stay in the car, keep listening to music until the sun set, and the ritual began. Yeah. That sounded okay.
"Calypso!" A voice came from outside the car, and then a knock. Calypso turned and saw her mother. She winced. Somehow, she had forgotten that her mother had been waiting for her at the party. Her mother was a woman that looked very unlike her. Straight, long red hair. Pale, freckled skin. A sharp contrast to her daughter's kinky, dark brown hair and light brown complexion. The only thing they really shared was an on the tall side of average height and brown eyes. Calypso could guess that the rest was all her dad. But, right now, her mother had her brows scrunched in the middle, and her mouth hardened in a thin line. Her arms were crossed.
Reluctantly, Calypso turned off the car, opened the door, and hopped down. She was wearing a bright yellow tank top and a pair of jean shorts, along with a pair of heeled sandals and a sky-blue headband in her hair. "Sorry Mom," she said, smoothing her shorts. "Got distracted. Good song, you know?"
Her mother huffed. "It's okay," she said. "I was wondering where you were, that's all." She took Calypso by the shoulder and guided her up the mountain path, past the variety of cars parked along the road. She squeezed her daughter's shoulder. "It's okay to be nervous. I was nervous when my time came, too- but you shouldn't miss the party. Today, it's all about you."
Calypso turned her head from her mother's eyes, a blush appearing on her cheeks. "I'm not nervous," she said hotly. "I told you, a good song came on the radio. That's it. I'm... I'm actually excited! I've been waiting for this my whole life."
Before Calypso knew it, they had come up to the field. Music was playing through the speakers- some old country song. Dixie Girls, she remembered. Immediately, people swarmed them. Mostly her mother's friends, some of their children. All congratulations and hugs and dizzying arrays of questions. Calypso put on her best smile and replied as best she could, all the meanwhile wringing her hands behind her back. She just needed to get to the table... yes, the initiate table. She peered over the heads surrounding her, glancing at the table in the center of the field. A couple witchlings were already there- probably the ones who lived at the house, she guessed. Breaking free from the circle and making her excuses, she made a beeline for the table. Those goody bags looked good. What was in them? Chocolate? Good chocolate? Maybe a pendulum? She definitely needed a new one of those, hers was cracked.
Once she got to the picnic table and the spot designated for her, she sat down, twiddling her fingers on the tabletop. There was a name card made specifically for her- Calypso Barnes, it read. There was one for everybody else, too. She grabbed it. Would make for a nice souvenir, she guessed. Her brown eyes flicked to the food table longingly. Some grilled zucchini sounded great right now... but it wouldn't do to go get food first. She should say hi to the other witchlings before she did. Not that she didn't know them already, but she hadn't seen some of them in such a long time.
This year is one of those years- a year in which witches will be initiated into the coven. It's the summer solstice- the sun is high in the sky, the air is heavy with humidity and heat. And there is a gathering going on at the coven house. It's one of the most extensive gatherings of the year. Hundreds of witches gather on the coven's sweeping swath of property in the Appalachians for a party, ready to celebrate and welcome new witches to their ranks.
The smells of barbecued meats, veggies, and fruits waft from the grills and the tables full of cooking and cooked food. A variety of pitchers full of sweet tea, lemonade, and some stranger looking concoctions rested on the tables as well, slowly gathering condensation. But the ice never seemed to melt, staying frozen after hours of sitting out in the sun. And the food too never seemed to cool off or grow old- it stays in the same state for hours upon end. Witches young and old swarm the food tables, loading their plates up with food and drink. But, beyond the food, witches wander the grounds. They sit at various picnic tables sprinkled around the grounds, chatting with friends that they haven't seen in a long time. There are groups casting spells together near the forest. Children streak across the field, too, seeming to be playing some odd version of tag that involves flying and various other castings. Games like cornhole and hopscotch are set up across the field, entertaining various witches.
But, beyond the Fourth of July-esque party, the true attraction of the gathering is the initiates. A wooden picnic table is set aside for twenty or so soon-to-be witches, and it's decorated specially- an embroidered black and gold table cloth is set out, as well as several other party favors such as goody bags and nice-looking necklaces. A few initiates that live at the house are already there, and witches crowd around them, congratulating them and even gawking a little. Elders, conspicuous in their black robes, also dot the premises. Although there are fewer of them than others- most of them seem to be inside the house, preparing for the ritual to take place later that night.
As the day goes on, more and more witches trickle in. Dozens turn into hundreds, filling the field almost to the brim. The sun reaches its peak in the sky and then dips down, casting its rays upon the coven.
Once the sun sets, witchlings turn into witches.
Take a sip of my secret potion / I'll make you fall in love / For a spell that can't be broken...
An older pop song blasted through the car radio as a yellow Jeep pulled to the side of the winding mountain road. Once she had gotten herself straight, the girl driving put the car in park. She needed to get out of the car, but this was such a good song. It never came on the radio anymore, which was a shame. So, she let it play until the end, bobbing her head along to the rhythm. And then... well, another banger came on the radio. So, of course, she had to listen! Before she knew it, a half-hour had passed, and she hadn't even stepped out of the car. Fuck. She tightened her hands on the wheel. Surely they didn't need her until sunset, right? She could stay in the car, keep listening to music until the sun set, and the ritual began. Yeah. That sounded okay.
"Calypso!" A voice came from outside the car, and then a knock. Calypso turned and saw her mother. She winced. Somehow, she had forgotten that her mother had been waiting for her at the party. Her mother was a woman that looked very unlike her. Straight, long red hair. Pale, freckled skin. A sharp contrast to her daughter's kinky, dark brown hair and light brown complexion. The only thing they really shared was an on the tall side of average height and brown eyes. Calypso could guess that the rest was all her dad. But, right now, her mother had her brows scrunched in the middle, and her mouth hardened in a thin line. Her arms were crossed.
Reluctantly, Calypso turned off the car, opened the door, and hopped down. She was wearing a bright yellow tank top and a pair of jean shorts, along with a pair of heeled sandals and a sky-blue headband in her hair. "Sorry Mom," she said, smoothing her shorts. "Got distracted. Good song, you know?"
Her mother huffed. "It's okay," she said. "I was wondering where you were, that's all." She took Calypso by the shoulder and guided her up the mountain path, past the variety of cars parked along the road. She squeezed her daughter's shoulder. "It's okay to be nervous. I was nervous when my time came, too- but you shouldn't miss the party. Today, it's all about you."
Calypso turned her head from her mother's eyes, a blush appearing on her cheeks. "I'm not nervous," she said hotly. "I told you, a good song came on the radio. That's it. I'm... I'm actually excited! I've been waiting for this my whole life."
Before Calypso knew it, they had come up to the field. Music was playing through the speakers- some old country song. Dixie Girls, she remembered. Immediately, people swarmed them. Mostly her mother's friends, some of their children. All congratulations and hugs and dizzying arrays of questions. Calypso put on her best smile and replied as best she could, all the meanwhile wringing her hands behind her back. She just needed to get to the table... yes, the initiate table. She peered over the heads surrounding her, glancing at the table in the center of the field. A couple witchlings were already there- probably the ones who lived at the house, she guessed. Breaking free from the circle and making her excuses, she made a beeline for the table. Those goody bags looked good. What was in them? Chocolate? Good chocolate? Maybe a pendulum? She definitely needed a new one of those, hers was cracked.
Once she got to the picnic table and the spot designated for her, she sat down, twiddling her fingers on the tabletop. There was a name card made specifically for her- Calypso Barnes, it read. There was one for everybody else, too. She grabbed it. Would make for a nice souvenir, she guessed. Her brown eyes flicked to the food table longingly. Some grilled zucchini sounded great right now... but it wouldn't do to go get food first. She should say hi to the other witchlings before she did. Not that she didn't know them already, but she hadn't seen some of them in such a long time.
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