At this rate, Crow was going to grind her teeth to dust before the meeting was over. Today was the Summer Solstice, a day of notable power, and of course she was stuck in an unavoidable biannual gathering. All of the matrons and a few notable mortals were obligated to meet twice a year to discuss matters concerning the witches and their world. It was tradition, and one that could not easily be broken. Twenty-one matrons and ten mortal witches sat around an oval-shaped conference table in a massive hall somewhere in Germany. Most of the attendees looked on the verge of falling asleep, and Crow was thankful for that. It had taken little energy to convince the others to take an evening recess so she could dodge back over to America for her… little errand. 

Crow netted disapproving glares from the mortal witches and a few of the other matrons when she threw her feet onto the table and leaned back in her chair. She pretended not to notice, and instead stared at the head of the table. Two intricately carved chairs, one dark and one light, almost like thrones, stood empty at the end. They were reserved for the first two matrons: The One Above and The One Below. Neither of them had deigned to make an appearance at the solstice meeting, which wasn’t entirely surprising. Those two had disappeared more than a century ago, much to the panic of their priestesses. 

Resting her head on the back of her seat, Crow began retracing the lines in the ceiling for the twentieth time. Vela, the matron representing the domains of plants and farming, was once again complaining that Ri, the Earthen Matron, was impinging on her disciplines. It was a tired argument, and one that she had made every couple of years for as long as Crow had known her. Ri wasn’t actually taking over anyone’s domains, but she was the more popular matron. Vela just wanted more witches to pledge to her.

Crow sighed inaudibly, and was greeted by an elbow in her kidney a moment later. She coughed, nearly falling out of her chair. Extracting her feet from the table, she gave a “what the hell glance” at her partner sitting beside her. 

“At least pretend to not be bored.” The woman commented without looking up. Her auburn hair was tucked behind her head, with a silver bow keeping it out of her face. Her clothes were modest, if a bit cutesy, being a white sundress with orange pawprints tracking up one side. The woman took a piece of paper stationary in front of her, folded it into a paper crane, and placed it back on the table. The bird experimentally flapped its wings, and gave a curious look at the woman. It offered a raspy squawk, then took off from the table, flying to one of the rafters, where a slowly growing flock of origami birds sat. The woman had evidently gone through the entire notepad sitting in front of her and was now using Crow’s instead.

“So that’s not being bored?” Crow smirked.

“Nope. I’m just practicing magic, clearly. We’re supposed to be on good behavior right now, remember?” 

“Uh huh. Sure. So if I were to go into the kitchen and look for their silverware, I’d find it?”

The woman remained silent in response, pretending to focus on folding another paper crane. She shifted her posture inward, trying to shrink herself and look as innocent as possible. Unfortunately, in doing so, her sundress tinked, as metal objects stowed away in hidden pockets clinked together.

“Fox!” Crow breathed in exasperation. “Didn’t you just say that we had to be good?”

Fox gave the biggest puppy-dog look she could muster, with her pale-silver eyes shining in feigned innocence. “Being good is relative. I think by stealing those spoons that I am being very good.” She brushed a few loose strands of hair out of her face and returned to folding cranes. 

Crow rolled her eyes and let her thoughts drift to her newest witch. Being a matron, she could sense and sift through all of the witches who had pledged themselves to her. Each of their magic felt slightly different, a unique signature that helped her recognize all of them. She was a relatively unpopular matron, so she had few witches to search through. But even if she was more popular, her newest claim would have been beyond easy to home in on. 

Crow could sense the new witch's magic beginning to awaken, like a trembling bloom. The power felt savory and golden but it was shaky and lacked confidence. It sat formless in the vast depths of the kid’s soul. A new witch having such a well of magic already was… uncommon and mildly concerning, but considering who she was, this wasn’t unexpected. Even so, she wished she hadn’t left her with that professor. Who knows what ties that woman had. Unfortunately, Crow’s duties as a matron dragged her away. And she assumed the girl should be fine for a few more hours. Should be. A seed of anxiety took root in her gut. 

Fox noticed her pensive expression and palmed a small glass orb into Crow’s lab. 

“Where’d you get this!” Crow hissed. 

“Estelle. She left it out when you stepped away to… take care of your business. I couldn’t help it.” She grinned at Crow with a mischievous light, who returned her a look of admonishment. Fox pouted. “Ok fine, after the meeting, I’ll roll it back to Estelle and she’ll just think she dropped it. But it’s a peering glass, I think. Check on your new baby, babe. I know you want to.”

Crow picked up the orb with a huff and focused on her newest witch. The orb filled with mist, and through that mist, the house she had visited only a few hours ago took shape. Across the table, a woman, veiled in black, watched unseen. 

~

I had commandeered Fern’s bathroom and was currently staring at myself in the mirror. Everything still felt so dreamlike, and I was half worried I’d wake up in a few minutes back in… that body. No. Stop. I blinked away those thoughts and tried the pinching trick again. The sharp pain told me that I was either awake, in which case, awesome, or my sleeping mind is abusive and hates me. Which was also entirely possible. 

The girl that was staring at me from the mirror kind of looked like me, er, what I used to look like. She could have been my sister, or a cousin. She—I had the same nose, a little too big, but not horrible, the same eyes, and the same ears. I still had that scar just under my lips from when I fell off a swing as a kid, and my face still maintained its chubbiness. Taking a closer look, I realized my eyes weren’t completely the same; they seemed bigger now. I absently wondered if my head had shrunk too. My lips were soft now and I was pretty sure I could pout with them for great effect. In all honesty I looked rather alarmingly normal. The kind of girl that you’d probably think was pretty in passing, but would instantly forget as soon as she stepped into a crowd. And you know what? I could work with that. 

I tried to strike a few poses in the mirror, letting a grin spread across my face. Watching myself shift postures in the reflection caused a new eruption of euphoria within me. Being thrust into a body that you could only have dreamed of was an intoxicating experience. Although, I noticed that moving felt awkward as I struck my poses. I’d lost a few inches, and it seemed a lot of my flabbiness had, uh, migrated to my chest. My entire center of gravity was thrown off and walking in a straight line was a bit of a challenge now.

I struck another random vogue pose, the movement never ceasing to make me giddy, but I froze when I noticed something that I hadn’t seen in my euphoric headiness. Chainlinks had been tattooed on the inside of each of my wrists; five links each, twisted in a vague arc. Crow. Crawdad. Whatever her name was. She said she had claimed me. Some dark part of my mind began to theorize that meant slavery. The more present parts of my conscious were worried these tattoos weren’t alone. 

In a slight panic, I stripped out of my now rather ill-fitting clothes and began inspecting my body for any other marks. As I leaned down to inspect my legs, my boobs nearly toppled me. They weren’t even that big; a modest size, really. But it was going to take some adjustment to learn how to manage the unexpected weight affixed to my chest. I needed to figure out my new gravity soon though because I could feel myself growing frustrated at the lack of balance.

The lower half of my body seemed normal enough after inspection. Although I noted that I could stand to shave my legs, as some of my body hair had sadly survived the magic. A giggled a bit in disbelief as I inspected between my legs. It wasn’t there. It honestly was gone. I felt tears prickle my eyes again, and I wiped them away, a new wave of relief sweeping through me. My giggling morphed with sobs as emotion began to overwhelm me. I couldn’t wrap my head around what happened. Evidently you can just turn into a girl. Granted, it wasn’t super comfortable, I thought, flashing back to the night before. What was I going to do about my ID? What would I tell my parents? Seizing the flash of anxiety, I pushed those thoughts aside for later. 

Slipping my shorts back on, I began looking over my back. Behind my tangled hair, I saw a flash of black. I shifted awkwardly and pulled the hair aside. At the base of my neck, easily hideable by a shirt, was another tattoo: A silhouette of a crow. 

I was branded. 

A knock on the bathroom door distracted me and I threw an annoyed face at it. “What do you want?” 

“I have some things to give you, Jules.” It was the professor. I sighed loud enough that I was sure she could hear me. 

“Yeah, that’s gonna be a no. You kinda lost any right to interact with me after that bullshit.” I felt my face flush with anger. Seriously, she’d tried to brainwash me. 

Professor Church was silent for some time before she spoke next. “It was for your safety, dear.” Her voice was quieter, perhaps even a bit reticent.

“Yeah, sure. Definitely.” I said, dripping scorn in my words. I clutched at my throat upon hearing my voice. I hadn’t fully noticed before but it was definitely higher now. It sounded weird with the male articulation I’d practiced for so many years, but in a feminine pitch. It was like a girl trying her best to pretend to sound like a boy, which, I guess, I was. 

She sighed through the door. “Please believe me, Jules. I only wanted you to be comfortable. I understand that the magic may have upset you. So, as an act of goodwill, I nipped down to one of your human stores for clothes. None of my magic has touched them.” I heard a rustling from outside the bathroom. “I’ll leave them outside the door for you, dear. They should fit you properly.  I shall be in the kitchen working on your paperwork. Please come speak to me once you’ve changed.” Her voice carried a tone that I imagined was her lecturing voice, well-intentioned but arrogant. 

I held my ear to the door, waiting for Professor Church to stalk off before I opened it. My hand smacked against the door frame as I went for the knob; my new height making me miss it by a few inches. I grimaced and grabbed the handle properly on my second attempt. Cracking the door open, I dragged the plastic bag inside with my foot and began tearing through it. Within the bag was a skirt and a t-shirt, as well as some underwear and a bra. A receipt was in the bag confirming that she did, indeed, buy these clothes at one of the local clothing stores. And paid with credit, somehow. 

The skirt was a simple black skater skirt, and I was tempted to try it on; but only tempted. Tossing it aside, I inspected the shirt next. It was one of those tees with random meaningless locations printed on it like “Bayview, est. 1986”. The undergarments were what I expected, neutral and probably cheap. I shoved all of the clothes back in the bag and threw my own shirt back on. While I certainly appreciated the gesture, any gift from her felt tainted.

With my clothes on, I smiled at my reflection one last time as I exited the bathroom. The professor was sitting in the kitchen, as she said she’d be, signing several documents using a pink pen with a purple puff on the end. It looked like a novelty item she’d seen at the clothes shop. Papers were strewn across the green and white checkered tablecloth. She looked up as I entered, and motioned at a cup of tea that sat steeping at one of the other seats. I sat down, pointedly shoving the tea aside. Her mouth twisted into a frown when she saw I was not wearing the new clothes, but she quickly recovered with a smile.

“After last night, Fern has decided to catch up on her sleep. I ask that we keep our discussion volume to a minimum for her sake.” The professor noted, moving a stack of papers so I had a bit more space. 

I looked over the paperwork stacked in their uneven piles. “What’s all this then?” There seemed to be a dozen different forms, with various logos, sigils, and icons. Some weren’t even in English.

She leveled her gaze at me. “Well, you are a wildling, Jules. That much is certain. And unfortunately, wildlings, especially older ones like yourself, have trouble integrating into our society, so there is plenty of paperwork to be done. These papers are to notify the councils that a new Wildling has appeared.” She gestured at a stack of about twenty identical sheets, each bearing a different mark on the top right. “This paper is a standard claiming form. It should have been filed by who claimed you, but clearly your Matron didn’t feel you were worth her time. Normally, a matron’s priestesses, the ones who typically conduct the ceremony, would have taken care of this. This small stack of papers are enrollment forms to the university I work at. As you shall be return—” 

“No.” Professor’s Church face colored for the briefest of moments, but it was chased away by her controlled calm. I stared her down. “I’m not going to. You can’t just turn me into a girl and then kidnap me for your university to be some labrat. I have a life! I have my parents...” My voice died in my throat, anxiety flaring in its place. The thoughts I’d pushed aside earlier were now storming through my mind. “My parents…” I whispered the words in quiet horror. It was already in the late afternoon. There was no way they weren’t back by now. God, they must have been worried sick. 

I rushed for the door but the professor caught my arm. “Please stop, child.” I shrugged out of her grip and shot her a blistering look. She held her arms up in surrender, but continued. “You have only just awakened your magic. It’s malleable and you don’t know what’s in the wild. You do not have the years of experience in protection that a witch born into our society has. There are creatures and beings outside this house that will willingly prey on you in your weakness, and kill you or worse. I was not lying when I said that I cared about your safety.” Her voice rose in intensity with each word. 

“I don’t care, I need—” 

“Young Lady! Please! Sit back down. You must stay here, at least for the moment. Your awakening almost certainly informed every magical beast in a ten kilometer area about your new magic.” She paused with a sigh. “But you are not wrong. It would be good to contact your parents, and at least inform them of your awakening.”

I didn’t sit back down, but I fought back my desire to run home. I didn’t fully believe her, but it was slowly dawning on me how unbelievable it would be for a girl to show up and claim to have formerly been their son. Things like that just don’t happen. How could I even explain this to them? My anxiety wasn’t helped by the fact that half of the creatures in that book from earlier seemed like they could tear my throat out, and the professor’s words grew heavy in my thoughts. “Fine, then. Do you have a phone I can borrow?”

Professor Church smiled at me and clapped excitedly. “No, we won’t need any of your technology. I am going to teach you a spell. Now, watch.” She said it with such delight that I almost felt excited to learn some magic. Magic. My experiences with the concept hadn’t been great so far. I pursed my lips but watched her demonstration. The professor daintily wove her fingers through the air, letters forming where she touched. She punctuated the last word with an over enthusiastic exclamation point and the words melted into a blue, translucent bird. I realized this must have been what Fern had done earlier. The bird hopped over the table to me before morphing back into words. ‘Hello, Jules!’

“This is a simple messaging spell,” She said, gesturing like she was in a classroom. “If you say the words ‘to thee I send my message’, you will be able to write your message in the air as I’ve done. Once you’ve written it, simply envision the person you wish to send it to in your head, and your magic will do the rest. Messengers always find their recipients, even if the person is asleep or preoccupied. It will wait until they can acknowledge the message, so no message is ever lost. Quite a useful spell, if I do say so myself.” She folded her hands and watched me with rapt satisfaction, impressed by her own demonstration and explanation. 

“What about the animals? When Fern did that, hers turned into a butterfly. Do I have to choose an animal?” 

“No, your messenger is based on your matron.” The professor’s face darkened. “With yours, I imagine it will be a crow.” 

I whispered the words under my breath and began writing in the air. Power poured from my core, and flowed through my arm, illuminating the air behind my finger. I slowly began writing my note, trying to explain what had happened, but stopped half way through as a thought struck me. “How will my parents even see this? I thought only Seers could see magic.”

“Oh no, my dear. Seers see through magic. Any living being will see your message if you intend for them to see it.” 

“That makes sense, I suppose.” I continued writing my message but paused a moment later. “Should I let my mom know that I’m never going to see her again and to hold a funeral?” 

“What? No, of course not. It’s simply for these first few days that becoming accustomed to your new world takes precedence. Once you are settled in the university, we will be able to return and visit them, my dear. We are not a merciless society.” 

I finished the last sentence, and the entire message collapsed into a small crow. It flew around the room twice before perching on the windowsill. It cocked its head at me for a moment, then phased through the window with a caw. The bird quickly vanished from sight, catching a breeze down the hill. 

With my message sent, I managed to swallow my anxiety over my parents once more. “Alright. I’m now your captive, completely cut off from the outside world. What now?” I spread my hands in acquiescence, the sudden movement nearly throwing me off balance once again. 

“Well, I imagine you will come with me to the university—and do not roll your eyes at me, young lady—where you’ll be given several summer courses to fully assimilate you into our world. Magic instruction, history, cultural tradition classes, lessons of that nature. Wildlings like yourself are not terribly uncommon, so we do have structures in place for them.” 

I held my hand up to stop her. “Let’s back up. You have to remember that my life has decided to shift from being a local newspaper article about a local man growing the most generic turnip to a shitty Harry Potter fan fiction. At least, I assume it’s shitty. So let’s start from the beginning. Who am I? What am I? And what has happened to me?” 

“Who is Harry Potter?” The professor asked, confused.

“Is that really relevant right now?” 

“No, I suppose not.” She shook her head, and began signing the paperwork again, speaking as she worked. “First and foremost, you are a witch. A person capable of using magic. We witches largely live in our own civilization, which is only accessible to those who are familiar with our ways. Due to the number of threats to our civilization and personal safety, most witches remain in the bounds of our world. Although, small groups have elected to live in your world, or ‘the wild’ as we often refer to it.” She paused, handing me a paper to sign, along with a pen from her bag. I looked over the paper, trying to split my attention between her speech and reading the document, to ill effect. The paper seemed to be vaguely governmental form that mentioned identification and new files being created. 

“Occasionally, and it is often a tragedy when it occurs, some witch children disappear. Whether they are stolen, lost, or their parents give them up for safety, it matters little. These children are often found and raised by humans in the wild, without any guidance on their magical abilities. We refer to these children as Wildlings. Once they’re mature enough, or if they discover our world on their own, a matron or one of her priestesses will often seek them out and bring them to safety.”

I carefully slid back into my seat, trying to belie my interest in the topic. I still wasn’t thrilled about being trapped here, but to say I didn’t want to learn would be completely false. Were the professor not here, I imagined I would be trying to consume every book on Fern’s shelves. “So what about that lady? The one who did… this.” I gestured to my body. “Who is she? You didn’t seem super hot about her, unless throwing lightning at people is a general form of greeting in your world. Is she a demon or something?” 

The professor snorted at my comment. “Oh, were it only that simple. Demons can be protected against, but you cannot fight someone like her. Crow,” she spit the name, “Is a matron. Matrons are our most powerful witches, nearly immortal, almost limitless power and often leaders of our society. There are 23 matrons total, each embodying different qualities that are important to our civilization. A young witch will pledge herself to a matron upon reaching an appropriate age, and the magic of her matron will protect her and guide her. In the event a witch does not pledge herself, a matron will claim her. You mentioned you are eighteen, correct? That is on the very cusp of being too old to even claim, so Crow must have been the only one left who was willing to take you.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it in a comforting gesture. “I pity for you, dear. Crow witches are not good people.”

I snatched my hand from hers and considered what she had said. It was definitely disappointing that I was just a piece of scrap that the other matrons left for Crow. But that also left me confused. Crow had said she was looking forward to meeting me, maybe claiming a wildling was a rarity; something she didn’t get to do very often. I wondered if matrons get something special out of claiming someone, and my thoughts flitted back to the chain tattoos on my wrists. 

“Professor?” I turned both of my wrists up, displaying the ink. “What are these supposed to be? Did Crow put them there?”

She looked at them for a moment, before frowning in disgust. “Some matrons mark their witches. Perhaps Crow marked you with those. Although, I must say I disagree with her decision. Marks like those are permanent, and she should have gotten your consent before giving you them,” she said with a huff.

I gave a single snort at the thought. The professor herself could learn some guidance on consent. “I don’t suppose there’s any way to switch matrons is there?” 

The professor gave me a mournful look and tried to grab my hand to hold again, but I yanked my arm back before she could. “I’m sorry, Jules.” She said, patting my arm instead. “The only way to change your matron is to pledge yourself to a new matron when she ascends. Unfortunately, Miss Grace  ascended only sixty years ago, so I can’t imagine we’ll be getting another matron any time soon.” She paused and scrunched up her nose in thought. “Although, I have heard rumors that the head of my university, Lady Saewara Night is the most likely to ascend next. Perhaps when we return, you can speak to her.” She looked at me with a smile that I think was supposed to be disarming. 

I returned it with an irritated expression. “You're not giving me a choice about going to this university of yours, are you?” 

“It’s for your safety, dear.” She tried to pat my arm again, but I smacked her hand away.

“Can you fucking quit with the touching!” I didn’t mean to shout, but I was getting sick of her trying to touch me, or hold my hand, or whatever. 

She curled back with indignation. “I was offering you comfort. You said yourself this is a distressing time in your life. Did your parents not teach you any manners? I imagined even humans had those. Perhaps yours were lacking.” 

I instantly felt myself flush with anger. I forced words through clenched teeth “I’m leaving.” 

“You are making a mistake, child. Do not leave this house!” 

“I don’t care. I’m done spending any more time here, or with you. Or anything! I. Am. Leaving.” As I hissed those last words, something wrenched at my heartspike. Power flooded from my core, and a distorted field washed over everything in view. The sudden expulsion of magic threw me out of my chair and I stumbled to the floor. Color began to fade from reality as everything slowed to a halt. Sounds disappeared, and everything froze.

I stood in the center of the kitchen, in a bubble of timelessness. My breath came in ragged gasps. I had somehow managed whatever magic Crow had done earlier. Professor Church was locked in her chair, reaching towards where I’d been sitting a moment ago; her face twisted into an angry sneer. My own seat was frozen half-way through its fall. 

The tugging in my core increased with every breathless moment, growing in painful intensity. The power flowed out of me in waves from the tips of my toes and out through my head. The pain fused with a sudden pang of anxiety, morphing into a cold panic. I had to leave this place. I had to leave it now. My legs were moving before I willed them to, and I had pushed the door open before I was even conscious of what I was doing. I half tumbled down the hill in my desperation to leave. 

The pain became too much to bear by the time I reached the bottom. Color flickered back into reality, as my body gave up whatever magic it had been channeling. Falling to my knees, my gut twisted about itself in aching anxiety. I heaved and heaved as I tried to suck breath in. The remnants of Miss Belina’s dinner from last night found its way to the pavement. 

My ragged gasps broke the silence of nature around me. I wiped at the tears that were pouring from my eyes. God, what the fuck was happening to me. I leaned backward, trying to calm myself by staring at the cloudless sky. 

A bird cawing at me from a few feet away grounded me, and I shifted my weight forward again to find it. Standing about three feet in front of me was a translucent crow, with its head cocked as it looked at me. I sigh-laughed in relief. It was probably a message from my mom. I waved my hand at the bird with exhaustion, trying to get it to show me the message. It cocked its head to the other angle, continuing it’s observation, but otherwise did nothing. 

“Show me the message.” 

The crow still didn’t respond, so I sat there, awkwardly waiting for something to happen. The seconds ticked by, and the wave of relief I had felt moments before began to sink into a greater anxiety. 

“Are you the message I sent?” I whispered the question, afraid of the answer I was already beginning to suspect. 

The bird nodded its head, and cawed again. Horror seeped through me as I worked my way through its answer. How could a magic message that would always find its recipient return to the person who sent it? My mouth dried in fear as my body began to autopilot once again. It got up and rushed down the familiar roads, picking up speed with each step. I was in a dead sprint before I’d gotten to the end of the first street. 

I fell twice as I tore home; my new height and fat distribution making my body feel foriegn. My knees and palms were scraped raw by the time I turned the last corner. Hot tears streamed down my face as I pelted down the sidewalk towards my house.

But there was nothing there. 

Where my house should have been was a gravel lot. No mailbox, no sign of a foundation. The tree I’d climbed so much as a kid was gone. It was all gone. With a strangled sob, I whipped my attention to Miss Belina’s house, hoping with desperate thought that she was home. Her home still stood, but something was off with it. Her chair wasn’t on the porch. The gardens were unkempt and filled with weeds. And a For Sale sign sat catawampus in the front yard. 

I crossed the street, nearly falling again in the process and pressed my face to the front window. Her house was completely barren. No furniture. No plants. Nothing. On the sill inside, a thick layer of dust sat undisturbed.

My legs finally gave out. And I screamed. Anguish overtook my reality, and I curled into a ball beneath the window, sobbing in wretched agony. 

~

I lay there for what seemed like hours. It could have been minutes. It could have been days. My tears slowly ran dry, until I was left holding my face and trembling. 

As I sat like that, something broke through my grief. Two of the five links on my left wrist were now broken. I ran my finger over the mark, choking back a new sob. A flash of movement across the street stole my focus from the design. 

Standing in the gravel lot where my house used to be was a woman dressed in a casual black tank top and battered black jeans. Crow. She caught my eyes, and a moment later was standing over me; alarm and worry etched across her face. She pulled me into a tight hug and I repressed the urge to break out into more tears. I tried pushing her away, but found myself unable to escape. Feeling me struggle against her, she let me go. 

I gave her a murderous glare, its impact lessened by my disheveled state. “What do you want?” Venom dripped from my voice. I knew she had to have done this.

Crow set herself down next to me without saying a word. Silence stretched between us; neither willing to look at the other. 

“I want to apologize,” She finally admitted.

Mayday

Sorry for the long wait for this chapter. But Spring Break took a lot of my attention and finding a new routine during the Coronavirus spread sapped a lot of my writing energy. I also wanted to take more time to fine tune and edit this chapter, as compared to my other ones, and I hope it shows.

I've also taken this opportunity to updates the tags somewhat. I removed a few that I felt weren't in line with the direction I was leading the story and added a few others. As I review my notes and plans for the series, I may change them again.

Next chapter is when we finally get to start exploring the world of the witches.

Finally, I wanted to give a huge shoutout to Telomere (I couldn't find your profile page on Scribblehub, so I wasn't sure how to credit you properly) on Discord, her feedback has been absolutely instrumental in editing. I also wanted to give a huge thanks to Chiri and Ashlyn. Both of them have done a ton to make me feel more confident with the series and my own writing abilities.

And once again, thank you for taking the time to read my story. I will always appreciate any feedback you might have to offer. And I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

 

Edit: One last thing, all of the chapters so far have been titled after songs from Florence + The Machine as that was my writing music. However, I've recently begun using other music while I write, and with where the story is headed, I'm not sure Florence' music will be the most fitting, so I'm wondering whether I should rename these old chapters, and not use song titles. I'd love if you could answer the poll with your thoughts on the matter.