Beginnings.

It was a day like any other on the archipelago, the sun was high in the sky, the wind moved slowly, becoming a relaxing breeze. The city of Fey Circle was full of life, the aroma of freshly baked goods, the laughter of both children and adults alike lost in the pleasures of a festival. The people were celebrating, it was the second biggest holiday in the country after all - Day of Midsummer. A time in year when the barrier between the realm of Humans and the realm of Fey is the weakest. A time where the otherworldly spirits and ancestors of current Witches visit the mortal world. It would also be remembered as the day when the hero of this story was born.

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"- Come on~! Faster Sybil, Beatrice! I heard that it’s over! We got a new sibling!"

A young, clearly excited voice broke the silence of the hallway. It belonged to a young girl that couldn't be older than six years old. She had long blond locks, ruby eyes and was wearing a luxurious, red dress.

"- Oh? Marie, aren't you a little too happy? Won’t you lose your spot as matriarch favorite? After all, I heard it will be a boy, they even made preparations for that. There is no way you could win against that."

The voice that responded belonged to an older girl in her early teens, she also had blonde hair and the same ruby eyes, her clothes were much simpler than her younger sister, she wore a black dress with some frills and white gloves. Her face showed a wicked, playful expression. Did she really mean the words she said?

"- Quit it Beatrice. Even if mother somehow is sure about it, there still is a chance She is wrong. We need to be ready, if she is wrong her mood will be terrible for the foreseeable future."

Spoke Sybil, the last, oldest of the three siblings. She was a tall, lean young lady in something akin to military uniform, that showed her trained muscle. Compared to her sisters, she didn't look much like other members of the Le Fey family: Short dark hair, icy blue eyes, nearly constant scowl. She moved without much grace, she mostly marched like a guard or a soldier on duty. An aura of authority surrounded her, with was only made stronger thanks to the sheathed sword, that rested on one of her hips.

Finally all three of them arrived at the door to their mother's room, slowly they opened the door. The crying, newborn baby was being held tightly by the midwife near the big bed with a young looking woman with a tired expression looking at the babe with a clear smile. She was smiling. That didn't happen often. The Matriarch of the Le Fey family, Maddelena Le Fey was a very strict, stubborn and mostly heartless woman. One that in her long years put their family at the top of the hierarchy in their country. The fact that she was smiling now, meant that she got what she wanted. And it meant one thing, it was a boy. Seeing that, Sybil sighted in relief, letting go on ale the accumulated tension, Beatrice was smiling radiantly, ready to move towards the servant to take the babe into her hands, Marie looked strange, troubled, she tried to keep her smile, yet struggled with that, the words she heard from her older sister still fresh on her mind.

Beatrice was already holding the newborn, when the two other children slowly and quietly moved towards the baby and the midwife, who was now standing still, trying to blend into the background like a piece of furniture. The infant wasn't clothed yet, so it was quite obvious confirmation to the three siblings that they really just got a brother, first man in the family for over three generations. Quite a sight to behold, every sister was looking at him, probably thinking what his birth would mean to all of them. The newborn boy let out a small, weak cry while the girls observed him. His skin was fair and milky, the eyes were closed so there was no way to know their color. He had few blonde locks of hair - the color that was most expected as it’s shared by most members of the family. The odd thing was that his ears were long and pointy. Some witches had slightly pointy ears due to their stronger connection to the realm of Fey, it was a common trait for the most powerful witches, but baby witches usually had human ears, it was odd to see such long ears on a baby it could be either a good sign or a bad one.

After less than a minute a quiet fight was starting. Marie was trying to get a hold of her new brother, forcefully trying to take him from Beatrice's hands who was still holding him in her arms while she admired him.

"- Enough. Girls, leave us be. Let him rest. Let ME rest."

Ordered the matriarch with a clearly tried, yet strict voice. Her red eyes looked right at her youngest daughter, with a stern expression on her face.

"- Umm… Y-yes! S-sorry M-mommy."

Marie responded with newfound fear, she took a look at the matriarch and then at the baby. Was that it? …Did he already steal her spot? In Marie's mind that… that simply wasn’t fair. She took another look at the baby with newfound contempt. She wanted to say something more, but then she felt Sybil hand on her shoulder. The oldest sibling quietly led the youngest sister out,  while Beatrice kissed the infant on his forehead, before giving her back to the midwife and followed her sisters.

"- Well, this officially sucks."

Announced Marie once the doors to her mother's bedroom closed. Hearing that, Beatrice released a small chuckle, while she responded.

"- Told ya~. Get used to that. You are a second fiddle now, just like the rest of us."

Hearing that, Marie puffed up her cheeks while the oldest sister just shook her head and started moving along the long corridor. 

"- After  her children left the room, the matriarch sighed loudly."

"- Maid, cloth him and let him rest close to me. I need to measure his magical potential. Time to plan his future."

Another order, a calm one this time, targeted towards the  stoic midwife.

"- Yes, right away mistress. But… shouldn't you give him a name first? The tradition say that…"

The woman answered slowly, weighing her words. It wasn’t smart to question the matriarch, but it was also a tradition to name the child before the measurement ceremony. No one today knew from where such tradition came from, but it was like that for millennia and it wasn’t wise to ignore the traditions of Fey Circle.

"-….Yes. You are right."

The mother responded coldly. Despite not saying anything, the look on her face was indicating that she wasn't happy about her servant standing out of the line. Still she ignored it for now, and simply took the baby to her hands, giving him another apprehensive look. After a quiet minute she answered.

 "- Marcelin. His name will be Marcelin."

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- Thirteen years later-

All Le Fay siblings in one room, such a rare view didn't happen too often, after all even though they were called a family and they shared the bonds of blood, each and every one of them was an individual that at the end of the day thinked mostly about themselves. Such is the way of the Witches, or at least that’s what everyone was saying to excuse their wild behavior.

Marcelin was sitting near the window, her eyes wandering, she found it impossible to focus on anything in particular. The sky seemed to be covered by red, the sun had just started hiding over the horizon. Just outside the window a few wispy balls of energy were playfully flying and playing around. Spirits, fairies. That’s what those lights were. The young witch learned a long time ago that she was seemingly the only one who was seeing them. Over the island there were tons of them, most kept to themselves, but some kept visiting her, some, the most clearly visible, were even speaking and playing with them! It was always a fun time with them, even if she didn't know too much about them, faeries loved their secrets. She sighted, turned away from the window and took a long look at everyone in the room. They were all here. So bizarre. Of course, there was a good reason for that. Their mathron ordered them too, so here they were. Everyone always listened to their matriarch, it was natural, such were the ways of the witches, it’s what they were teached to  do from a young age.  Looking over all her siblings, the youngest Le Fay started reminiscing, thinking about his relationship with everyone.

First his eyes stayed on the teenage girl in a lovely, yellow dress. She was sitting in the center of the room, humming to herself some happy melody. Marie… she was her youngest sister, over the recent years she was definitely the one that spent the most of her free time. She was fun to be around, a complete bag of sunshine that warmed her at times when sadness was about to take her. She was cool, she always allowed Marcelin to play with her clothes and toys and unlike others she was never strict with her, yet… almost always when they were playing together trouble was finding them, most of the time Marie disappeared just when one of the other sisters, some servants, or mom herself found them. Had to be some strange coincidence. 

Next Marcelin's eyes went towards Beatrice, who was seated near Marie and enjoying a piece of delicious looking cake. Her second sister was already an adult witch  who should be together with Sybil matron’s arms and legs, yet she seems to have all the free time in the world. In the past the youngest of Le Fey loved spending time with Bea, but as years went on and Marcelin started to “experiment” as others called it, Beatrice started to be quite mean, she would constantly use her cruel jokes, repeat mother’s opinions and ridicule Marcelin, while telling her how much she loved her younger “brother” and wanted what’s best for “him”. Not to mention the ways she treats the servants around the house. If how she acts towards family can be called cruel, the stuff she does to non-family members can only be called evil. Because of that, Marcelin started avoiding her second sister whenever there was such a possibility.

Then there was Sybil, who just entered the room, looking cold and distanced as always. By now she was a witch in her own regard, while she stayed in the matriarch's shadow, silently doing what she was told to do, she was well respected by the whole Witch society. Regarded as the genius among the ranks of Witch-Knights, commanding the personal guards of house Le Fey and working as one of the ambassadors of Fey Circle, constantly visiting the “primitive nations of the continent” and teaching them the superiority of witch ingenuity. In a few words, she was a hecking badass! At least in Marcelin eyes. Sadly, she almost never had time to spend with her siblings, always busy with her adult responsibilities, doing her job and probably dealing with responsibilities that Beatrice was avoiding. Once Sybil entered, she glanced at everyone gathered, her blue eyes stopped for a moment at Marcelin, inspecting the clothes she wore. It was hard to say what she thought about what she saw, as she didn't say anything and simply took a free seat, quite a distance from everyone in the room.

After a few minutes, there was a loud knock to the door, after the sound disappeared two guards entered the room and took their places and the two sides of the door. After them appeared the Matriarch. She wields a ridiculous long, extravagant robe, two maids were needed to go after her and hold the ends of the cloth that was tailing after the woman of the house. The whole robe had to be like four or five meters long. With style and determination, traversed the room, until she arrived at her favorite couch, which stood on a podium in the middle of the room. It looked strange, like a small theater scene with a piece of overpriced furniture, but Maddelena simply loved to look down at people, even her own children. The two maids went behind the couch and tried to look as small as possible, if they could use magic, they would most likely turn invisible, alas - they weren't witches, that’s why they were only servants.

The room was completely silent, while the woman in charge took a judgemental look at all her children. While she was doing that, Marcelin observed her mother. Her long hair, were golden, similar to most of her kids, with Sybil being the lone expectation, she also had the red eyes, her ears were slightly longer than normal ones and a little bit spiky - not much comparing to Marcelin but still something that made her stood out among common witches. From what was known,  Maddelena was supposed to be in her mid-fifties, yet she looked extremely young, as if she was in her mid twenties, it could be said that she was twins with Beatrice. Sybil looked older than her. It was all thanks to the famous magically enchanted witch alchemy - one of the export products towards the wealthiest nobles in the continent kingdoms. Just a bottle of the youthful serum was worth a small fortune and Maddelena, like most important witches, was using it every few months to keep her vigor and beauty.  

"- Marcelin, sweetie. What. Are. Those. Clothes?"

And so the silence was broken. With a frown on her face the matriarch was keeping her eyes on the youngest witch. Beatrice took a quick look at her “brother” and smirked, she was clearly amused by the situation, Marie was trying her hardest to keep a poker face and hide her own happiness, while Sybil was sitting still, seemingly completely disconnected from everything going on.

 "- Umm… Witches robes mother? Y-y-you yourself, allowed me to wear robes. They are quite the standard attire for us after all. I-if anything, the one sticking out is Sybil and her suit! I just wear the same stuff you all wear."

Marceling was trying her best to keep calm, but she already knew that the whole conversation was a lost battle. Recently her mom used every opportunity she got to “show her son the errors of his ways”.

"- Robe? Honey… It’s more of a dress than a robe. Look at the cut, the skirt, all those ribbons. Actually… I'm pretty sure it’s a dress that Marie got on her birthday last year."

Saying that Maddelena glanced at the just mentioned daughter, who was now trying hard to hide behind Beatrice.

"- And don’t you dare to bring Marie’s suits into it. It’s completely normal for some peculiar witches to wear suits, and that one is an official uniform. Actually, if you really need to play with your sister's clothes, do it with Sybil’s, not Marie’s! For ancestors. Baby, you are a thirteen year old boy! It’s time to find you a fiancee and secure a strong alliance. What woman would want a man who goes around wearing frilly clothes and pretending to be a girl? Time to grow up, young man and take your responsibilities towards our house seriously."

Ugh. Marcelin hated it. They had talks like these every other week. Those talks about fiancees and marriages were just too much.  None of her sisters had to deal with that! They were free to be single or fall in love with whoever they wanted, yet somehow she was supposed to be married just because she had something different between her legs?! That was so… archaic! She couldn't stand it, the injustice was simply too much. With tears forming in her eyes, she stood up and ran towards the doors, quickly leaving the room with a big bang. Nobody stopped her.

"- Honestly… I can’t understand this boy, wasting his potential just to play pretend."

Spoke the oldest woman again, while shaking her head and signaling one of the maids to bring her a glass of wine.

"- Don’t worry mother. He has his quirks but he is our talented, cute little brother. I have seen the other boy witches of this generation - none for them can compare to our precious Marcelin. Even while wearing dresses, he will get a great fiance just because of his looks and magical talent alone. It won’t be an issue."

Spoke Beatrice. She had quite a high opinion about her “brother”, she loved him dearly even with his small delusions. And she was sure that she was right. Finding a fiancee won’t be an issue. The only problem will be to find someone good enough for her “precious little brother”. The matriarch sipped her wine and was thinking about a response, while suddenly to everyone's surprise, Sybil took part in the conversation.

"- Dear mother, Allow me to speak with him. I think that I have a remedy for this whole situation. Let’s give him a few hours to calm down. Then I will go visit him and talk some sense into him. All will be well. And don’t worry about the fiancee situation. Surprisingly I believe that Beatrice is right. "

After that, there was a long silence in the room, Marie and Beatrice were still shocked that Sybil got involved, after all in recent years she stood away from all the inner conflicts in the family. The marathon was contemplating the words of her oldest daughter, nobody spoke a word until the wine glass in Maddelena’s hand was empty. Then she simply gave a theatrical nod and with it the family meeting ended.