Lilah

Lilah by Gemma Liviero Page A

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Authors: Gemma Liviero
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window watching the first trickles
of snow outside and she turned as I entered as if expecting me. She was slender
and unassuming in the way she tilted her head, yet seemed to fill the room with
light and force; so much so the intensity of it made me draw back momentarily.
    ‘Why am I here?’ It was clear she had been
questioning our motives throughout the night, her face drawn and paled.
    My bones creaked as I bent to sit beside her on
the lounge. Age was not something I could do with self-healing. The battle with
age could not be won – no amount of interfering could produce a cure
except for sleep. My time for rest would be here in less than a decade but I
had yet to name my successor. Gabriel was the obvious choice by most but he
could be unreliable, his heart given to fancies in a moment of passion or whim
as he had recently shown. An
elder was a likely successor but that many were ageing also and would be
seeking their time of rest not long after me. Along with the fact that many
were not born to be leaders, too accustomed to the easy life of taking orders
instead.
    ‘Such a direct question from someone so young!’
    She looked away at this a moment to consider
whether she had stepped too far.
    ‘I don’t understand why. Gabriel said I would
be safe but I can’t help feeling that there is more to me being here than just
a place to sleep.’
    I could not tell her then of my plans. She was
too young to cope with such and did not have the desperate fire in her belly
like most who found me; those cast out from their villages with their
‘unnatural’ practices of healing.
    ‘You are a witch and you are now with family.
We have blood connections going back centuries’
    ‘But I am not like you or Gabriel. I have seen
what your kind is capable of.’
    Her wide leaf shaped eyes did not blink when
she said this. It was not reproachful in any way but full of questions and a
desire for information. I could not read her but her energy was potent.
    I had no weakness for pretty young witches but
even I felt some of my own strength leave me as if she were leaching it from me ; as if I was suddenly cut from thinner cloth.
    She had powers that she was unaware of yet and
with my help I would make sure that she reached the very height of herself.
    ‘What is it that you do here?’
    ‘We teach and live generously. We have an
extensive library with books on witchcraft and books on history. We have
meetings to discuss issues that might affect us and ways to
better ourselves . Above all, we remain discreet.’ 
    More recently, many witches, our weaker
cousins, had been invited to learn and convert to our ways.
    ‘I know that you are something else and that we
share some common blood, that you can take away life just as quickly as you
heal, but I do not understand where I fit in all of this. Perhaps you can teach
me more about that. I would like to help the poor and the sick. I know I cannot
be a sister of the holy church… they do not accept what I am…but I can help in
other ways.’
    ‘The church is full of bigotry and hypocrisies
and in time you will share this view. Here, you will learn much that you do not
wish to, and see things that you cannot take back. You must be prepared for
what the strigoi do. It is part of who we are. Many humans would call us
abhorrent but we are simply survivors like every other species. We are the top
of nature’s ladder.’
    She frowned a bit. ‘Where am I then, on its
rungs?’
    ‘Witches, like you, have continued our line and
made our covens stronger.’
    I could see that she was having difficulty with
this – she was not ready to learn her future. I had not told her that
witches were one step away from their true form, the strigoi.
    ‘I struggle to think that I am called a witch,
something related to the devil.’
    I laughed at this, confusing her. ‘Human superstition only. For centuries I have seen them
accuse their own of such: poor wretches without any sort of skill but

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