Birthrights (2 page)

The doctor checked Jasmine over and marveled at how
well she was doing, considering the beating she had sustained.
Every bone, muscle, and piece of skin in her body seemed to be on
fire, so she wasn’t sure why he was marveling at her ability to
heal. Still, he was impressed and told the nurse, Angel - yes, that
was her real name according to her, that she could transport
Jasmine to her new room. He told the cop outside that he would have
to wait until they got back from radiology before they could
question her.

As Angel wheeled Jasmine out of her room headed
towards radiology, she explained that they wouldn't make it there.
Angel waited until they were down on the first floor and passing
radiology to explain what was happening. She told Jasmine that she
was being transferred somewhere special to heal where the cops
wouldn't be able to find her. Angel looked at Jasmine with tears in
her eyes. “I was you, 17 years ago.” Angel pointed to the scar
running across her cheek. “This isn't the only scar I carry, it's
just the most visible.” She hung her head a bit as she continued,
“I was saved by a woman who claimed to be a witch. You know, they
were just coming out of hiding back then, so I was stunned by her
revelation. She took me in and worked her magic.” Angel smiled down
on Jasmine. “You see they already had an underground railroad type
system in place to help each other escape persecution if coming out
in the public eye stirred up trouble. When they didn't really need
it, they started using it to help battered women. Some of them were
like and you and me, just human, others were witches. They'll get
you away, give you a fresh start.” She looked back down at Jaxon
who was a bit on edge, “It will be a good thing for you. Many of
the victims, like myself, go on to become counselors or to work in
the medical field where they can help. Some are lawyers now,
offering services, or running non-profits geared toward helping
women who needed a fresh start or a place to hide out.” Angel saw
the concern that was evident in Jasmine's eyes. “Don't worry none
about those witches, child, they are a Godsend to people like you
and me.”

****

Six months after her escape from the hospital Jasmine
was standing in her new apartment unpacking the last box. She
looked over towards Sarah, who had hung around long enough to help
Jasmine get settled in. “I’m going to miss having you around,”
Jasmine said to her.

“It’s always the hardest part of the journey, Jaxon.
Just remember, you are now Jaxon Delaney. You were hired by an
awesome art house here in northeastern North Carolina. You are
strong, proud, and accomplished. Don’t ever let anyone take that
from you.” Sarah hugged her as she had so many times along her
recovery. “I’m never too far away. If you get down or lonely you
can call. I’m just right down at the beach.”

“Thank you, Sarah. Be sure to thank Angel and the
rest of them for me too.” Tears welled up in Jasmine’s eyes. “I
don’t know how things would have turned out if Angel hadn’t been
there that day in the hospital. If they had made me talk to the
cops, I would have been right back in his hands again.”

“I know sweetie, just remember, you are no longer the
weak Jasmine, you are the strong Jaxon now. Make it matter! That’s
all the thanks any of us ask for. Changing your name makes it a
little harder for him to find you again. Let‘s hope he‘s not
looking. But using your new skills will keep him and others like
him from ever being able to hurt you again.” Sarah gave her a final
hug as she walked out the door.

With Sarah gone Jaxon realized she was really on her
own for the first time since her parents had died. She was going to
have to make this work. She looked around at her tiny apartment and
smiled. The best thing she ever did was get away from her
ex-boyfriend, Rick. Jaxon was going to do exactly what Sarah said.
She was going to make it all mean something. If that meant being
the best damn art dealer she knew how, and one day being able to
help support another victim, she was going to give it her all. She
eyed the blades she had on the wall. They were only decorative
pieces, but she knew how to wield the real thing now. Sarah’s
brother had taught her well. Her knives would replace those
porcelain angels her mother had collected for her so long ago, in
another life. Jaxon didn’t need angels looking out for her anymore.
She could rely on herself now and that was what mattered most.

***

Casting a Prophecy

A little more than a year after her parent's
disappearance Caislyn was still running Hidden Dimensions, the book
store her family had started just before she was born. Aside
from not being able to give up on her family‘s dream, Caislyn knew
she would need the income to fund her expeditions to find her
parents. She believed with all her heart that they were still out
there, still alive, and waiting to be rescued. The authorities had
done next to nothing to help her parents. Even after twenty years
of “other than humans” being out of the closet, so to speak, there
were still a lot of misgivings in the police department about
investigating a magical crime. The police force was still majority
human because they didn't trust anyone magical not to tamper with
the evidence at crime scenes. That was actually a good call on
their part, as it had been proven time and again, non-humans could
be a pain in an investigation. They could also be an asset and
could have helped with her parents' case. As it would turn out, the
police ended up ruining most of the evidence that other than humans
could have collected and used for tracking those responsible.

The Other Than Human Society members had gathered and
gone over the scene after the police released it. They tested the
magical traces that were left and gave Caislyn some directions to
look, however the people who had used the magicks had covered their
tracks effectively. She had been unsuccessful in tracing the
signature back to any particular user. Her probes about the brown
robed figures were always met with curious stares or mocking
jokes about Friar Tuck and his merry band of men.

Caislyn was hoping to change her luck tonight. Plans
were already in the works to close the store early. Tonight she
would do a full moon ritual. She would seek the knowledge from the
source of all things, and hope that something good would come from
it. Caislyn shifted listlessly as she checked her watch yet again
to see if it was time for her to close up shop. Mrs. Miller, one of
her usual customers, was still checking out the new inventory
shipment that Caislyn had received the day before. She vowed as
soon as Mrs. Miller left she would lock up the store and get
started.

“Alright dear,” Mrs. Miller said to Caislyn as she
placed her finds up on the counter. “I think I am ready to check
out now.”

As Mrs. Miller laid her books out, Caislyn asked her,
“Did you find everything you needed, Mrs. Miller?”  Inside
Caislyn was hoping Mrs. Miller would say yes, pay for her books,
and leave so she could get on with her ritual already.

“Actually,” Mrs. Miller began, “I was looking for a
rarity, 'She Walks with Mist’ by Benson and Miller. No relation to
Mr. Miller, of course.” The old woman smiled up at Caislyn, who
couldn't help but return her smile in kind.
　

“No, Ma'am, I don't recall that one.” Caislyn began
jotting down the title and authors. “I will research it for you and
give you a call if I find anything though.”

“Thank you, dear, your father taught you well.” She
smiled at Caislyn, yet the smile seemed to wane to a bit of pity as
she thought of Caislyn's father. Everyone assumed by now her
parents were dead.
　

“That will be $72.59.” Caislyn said, ignoring the
pitiful look Mrs. Miller had been giving her. “Thank you,” she said
when she took the money from the old woman. “Let me walk you to the
door.”

Caislyn proceeded to see Mrs. Miller out to the door,
when suddenly Mrs. Miller turned to her and grabbed Caislyn's hand
into her tiny fragile ones. The old lady's eyes appeared to glaze
over as she stared through Caislyn and began speaking in a far off
voice.

“Shadows and secrets are what you'll find, when
the ultimate power you unbind. First you must find death's
only witch. Look for her under blackest lights And nights
of pure dark sky. Seek the truth through the heaviest
lie.”

Mrs. Miller seemed to come back to herself before
adding, “Oh my, look at the time, I must be getting back. The
ladies will surely be upset if I miss our bridge tournament. Good
night dear.”

Caislyn had stopped being puzzled by prophets years
ago. Most of the time, it seemed, they didn't even realize they had
prophesied anything unless someone was there to catch them doing
it. She made a note to remember what the woman had told her, even
though it made no sense to her at the time. Caislyn walked back to
the register and beneath the counter she took out an old sketch pad
she kept there, just in case she needed something to write or
sketch in. She opened it up and quickly flipped past the many
sketches and almost poetry that she had done over the last few
months. On the next to the last page, which happened to be the
first blank one, Caislyn started writing down what the old woman
had told her. As she wrote the prophecy she wished her dad
was there. He was always good at deciphering what they meant.
Then she chided herself because she had a sneaking suspicion that
this particular prophecy was for her only, because of her parents
being gone. Time would tell, but for now, Caislyn had some answers
to gain through this ritual, and she could feel it was time to get
started.

At the back of the store there were a set of solid,
double, French wooden doors, hidden off to the side of the stairs.
They lead to a back room that the Vadoma's kept private. There were
no locks on those doors, only wards that kept anyone out that was
not supposed to be there. Caislyn had begged her dad to teach her
how to place wards before he had vanished, but he had always told
her that he wasn't sure it was a talent she would have as a witch.
She had always hated when he said things like that, like he was
such a better witch than her. Still, she would give anything to be
having that same argument with him right now. Caislyn slipped her
shoes off, pulled open the sturdy doors, and walked through
shutting them quickly behind herself. She stood a moment, with the
doors to her back as she always did, eyes closed, and took in the
smell of the earthen air all around her. Along the west and east
walls were trees who's branches breached the high vaulted ceiling
of the room and bent with it towards the glass portion of the
ceiling. There were natural made cabinets tucked in between the
trees that held racks of drying herbs and jars of this and that.
This place was where Caislyn and her dad came to hang out and learn
about herbs, it is also where her mother taught her to cast a
circle. They spent so long working on just the right way to cast a
circle that they wore a circular pattern into the grass which
covered the entire expanse of the floor in the room, minus one
small area to the south behind the circle where a natural pond
stood. The north wall in the room, the one through which she had
entered was entirely unadorned, save for the wooden doors at the
west end of the wall and the ivy vines that crawled their way to
cross its entirety.  Caislyn looked again to the circle.
Childhood memories came flooding back to her.

"Don't think on it, Caislyn," her mother had told
her, "nature doesn't mind moving a little out of our way when we
brought so much of it inside with us." Vesta smiled at her
daughter, "Besides,the circle is there in our heads always, so it
might as well have a chance to manifest itself this way too."

Caislyn tried to block the onslaught of memories this
room always conjured up about her mother. Caislyn did not really
need to physically walk the circle anymore. She was able to draw
the circle with her mind and it would be just as strong as one that
was physically manifested. Tonight, with the emotions that were
rolling through her, she felt the ritual of it all would help
ground and focus her. She stood for a moment, closed her eyes and
concentrated on breathing, in through her nose, out through her
mouth, slowly. She repeated this until it was all she was thinking
of. Then she opened her eyes and saw the white sage smudge stick
waiting on the wooden shelves. She walked over and grabbed one,
lighting it on one of the candles she already had burning in the
room. The other marvel of this room was that aside from being a
lavish garden area there was nothing in it that was not made of
nature, that included electricity. The only illumination came from
the beeswax candles they burned or the skylights above. The sage
stick, now throwing off its sweet scent, was ready to be put to
use.

Caislyn, starting at the north point of the circle,
and began to walk a wide birth around it in a clockwise fashion. As
she walked the outer edges of the circle with the sage billowing
its smoke around her, she chanted, “With this sage, I purify this
place, all negative energy be gone, leave not a trace.” Slowly, she
worked her way around the entire room cleansing and purifying it.
As she finished, she took what remained of the stick, which was not
much, and placed it on a special holder allowing it to end its
course on its own. Caislyn continued back to the northern most part
of the circle again, only now she was ready to build the
circle.

Caislyn stepped in line with the worn pattern on the
floor, and as always when she did this, she felt a little jolt of
energy rush through her. She smiled and bowed to the north, then
faced east and began laying down salt as she went along the circle
for protection. As she was completing her first time round the
circle she chanted, “I walk this circle to transcend between the
worlds all time can bend.”