@ofsortileges
       Hecate had observed from a distance for quite long enough, and the goddess could no longer abide it. Frey had been a favorite of her for hundreds of years, and the treatment of the powerful with as some sort of slave– it sends sparks flaming through her veins of primordial magic. It left her stepping into her path, the image of turn of the century refinery in layers of white linen, whale bone, and bustles that accentuated her figure.
      “I am not seeking out the crone nor any friend of hers– though rest-assured, the web, already spun, has her already caught with Dahlia in the middle of it.” Hecate stepped forward and cupped the woman’s cheek. “You are at a crossroads, my dear, and I will always be here to guide your eye in choosing your direction forward.”
Freya no longer trusted anyone. she just wanted to run from Dahlia, to find a way to defeat her and be free of her grasp. The memories were permanently printed on her skin, scars lacing her body that she didn’t even want to look at them again. She remembered the days she would train with this woman, the way she would look at her. But she never knew if it was because Hecate wanted to or if it was because she sided with her Aunt.
Her lips parted but then closed again. Dahlia was being taken care of? “But, no, I need to break the spell she has on me.” that’s what she had been doing every time she escaped Dahlia, she only had a year to look and then she would be put into an eternal sleep for another 99 years.
Hecate was right, she was at a crossroads. Trying to find a powerful witch to help her, to break this spell, to be free. She still held some apprehension but the way the other one spoke, there wasn’t a hint of a lie. “If I don’t break the bond she has forced upon me that I share with her, she won’t die. She just comes back.”
