Chapter 48: A Spell is Found

Oda shuffled through the stack of parchment she had pulled from the thick leather-bound book in her study. The piece she was looking for fluttered from her hand and drifted down to the floor. She stooped to pick it up and her breath caught in her chest. Their likenesses were uncanny. Her heart leapt as her finger traced the lines that her daughter had drawn so long ago.
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“I, unfortunately, do not have all of the answers but I do know that what Ishild is doing has been foretold. According to what Maeve saw, there are only two outcomes. She is defeated and the kingdom sees peace for the first time in centuries. Or, she is defeated and the kingdom falls into ruin. In both outcomes, Ishild will fall, but it is who takes the throne after she leaves that determines the fate of the kingdom,” Havardr said. He looked at his grandson, still trapped in his dragon form. Elric snorted derisively.
“I do not want the throne,” Elric retorted. Saffron watched the exchange warily, her own mind wandering towards what Oda had told her about her own line. A white witch, she mused and glanced down at her pale hands sitting in her lap. She had always had an affinity for healing but she always assumed that was due to her training.
“Then do not take the throne. It does not affect us here,” Havardr replied diplomatically. Saffron wondered why the idea of taking the throne angered Elric. Perhaps he wanted it more than he would like to admit, she wondered.
Elric did not reply. Instead, he resumed his usual glowering. Saffron wondered how she was to break this spell. She hadn’t a clue how to practice magic. Perhaps her grandmother’s journal had the clues.
Oda walked back into the room carrying a rolled piece of parchment and a strange look upon her face. She sat across from them, still clutching it between her hands. “Here is the proof of what you need,” she said and spread the aged paper across the wooden table. It crackled with age as her palm flattened it. Saffron and Elric leaned over to see what was inscribed upon it.
Saffron gasped and took a step back, her hands covering her mouth. A low growl sounded from Elric as he stared at the picture before him. It was an exact likeness of him and Saffron, a crown upon each of their heads.
“Your mother drew this before you were even born. It is your destiny,” Oda said.
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Saffron sat alone near the fire, her grandmother’s journal upon her lap. She hadn’t the courage to open it, afraid of what she would find inside. Her fingers traced the tooled leather on the cover. She brought it to her nose and inhaled deeply. She thought she could still smell the faint lilac fragrance of her grandmother. She wiped away the few tears that escaped her eyes and unwound the strap that bound the book together.
The spine protested with age as she opened the book. The pages were yellowed and warped from age. “The Grimoire of Imogene Greenreaver. Only those in my line shall read the words upon these pages. So mote it be.”
A shiver ran through Saffron as she read her grandmother’s words. She turned the pages and found that this was indeed a book of spells, not just one of traditional remedies. Her eyes widened as she flipped through the spells. A tingle ran through her fingers as she read one for casting light in the darkness. Confused she looked at her hands. They seemed to glow slightly. She flexed her fingers experimentally. A spark of light shot from them.
She yelped and the book fell to the floor. Saffron looked at it warily before reaching down and pulling it back into her lap. “I need to be more careful,” she muttered to herself and opened it once again. Cautiously, she skimmed the book until she reached the end where a page was marked with another slip of paper. She tugged it free and unrolled it.
“My Dearest Saffron, I pray that you never need the spell on the next page. I fear that I will not be here when you will need it the most. There is so much that I wish I could have taught you. I believe we are running out of time. I can feel my life coming to a close. Know that whatever you seek will lie not only in these pages, but also in the world around you. Never stop learning and searching. Forever keep your face in the wind and your feet on the ground. All of my love.”
The tears spattered the page now and Saffron hugged the note to her chest, wishing desperately that her grandmother were here now. After a few moments, she tucked the note back into the journal and turned to the spell mentioned.
The page depicted dark smoke wrapped around a man, encircling his feet and wrists like manacles. His face was contorted with pain. The image struck Saffron deeply. She couldn’t imagine how Elric felt, trapped inside of his own form.
“To free the cursed from The Binding Hex, the cursed must be submerged into flowing freshwater as the sun rises over the mountains. Burn bay leaves and fan the smoke around the cursed’s body, from the head to the feet, while chanting “No more befouled, again unbound, again unbidden” thrice.”
“Only a practitioner of the highest good and compassion will be able to break a curse of this magnitude. It is not only the spell but the heart of the practitioner.”
Saffron set the book back on to her lap and sat her head back. She had never before cast a spell, at least not intentionally. She prayed that she would be able to free her love.