Ven huddles, looming shadows at her back.
Flames fan her face, but warm soothment they lack.
Her history, long hid from her, feels black.
As the crone tells on, Ven’s surety cracks..
“I was there, waiting, at your very birth.
With dust of coal and purest blood of earth,
I marked you true, as the fates demanded.
T’was I that named you, as they commanded.”
She pauses now, staring into the fire,
She whispers how, “It were my heart’s desire.
To be led to choose gives one regency,
In the eyes of the gods, ascendancy.”
Quickly, her hooded eyes alight on Ven,
“For you to know the scope, you must listen.
The magic draws you on undoubtedly.
Destiny you must endure, fearlessly.”
With raised brow, Ven hesitantly questions.
The hag replies, “Follow my directions-
A simple spell will send you to your fate.
Just listen my deary, and contemplate..”
Where will this wind our girl, what fate mentioned?