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She had never seen a daemon before, but she knew of their works.

Two months ago, a pestilence had spread through a neighboring mortal village, wiping out their entire wheat crop for the summer.

And six months before that, an explosion of the wolf population in the north had led to a decimation of game in the region, leading to outbreaks of starvation among the villagers who lived there.

Such extreme, unnatural occurrences were always the work of daemons doing Iblis’s bidding.

After washing up with the pitcher of water and basin in the bathing room, Ena dressed in her everyday wear consisting of a long linen shift, knee-high woolen stockings, and a gray woolen dress topped with a black bodice.

After brushing her hair and braiding it simply over one shoulder, she went back downstairs and past the kitchen to seek Heran in the altar room.

The room was dark as she entered, and it took a second for her eyes to adjust. Sparse candles lit the space, which had no windows.

The walls of the room were covered by towering bookshelves laden with spellbooks detailing every kind of magic imaginable, histories of the three Covens, and the journals of past matriarchs of their own Auster Coven.

Ceremonial bowls, pendants, chalices, animal skulls, and various gemstones littered the shelves, as well, and nearly every inch of the floor was covered with trunks storing jars and vials of various spell and potion ingredients.

In the center of the room, she found Heran kneeling at a small rounded table covered in a lace tablecloth with a single candle upon it.

She had various gemstones and animal bones scattered on the table before her.

It was Heran’s job as the matriarch to commune with Gaia and interpret her will.

This allowed her to determine how to direct their Coven to serve the balance.

As one of only three Covens this side of the Chasm Mountains, they were frequently visited by mortals seeking help with their crops, their illnesses, and their livelihoods.

Communing with Gaia through divination allowed Heran to determine which requests to allow, and what we required in return.

Looking up as Ena entered the room, Heran greeted her warmly. “Good, child, you’re here. How are you feeling today?”

“Well,” Ena replied simply.

“And your Gift? Have you attempted to access it again?”

“No, as you instructed. But I can feel it. It’s there.”

“Good. I spent much of last night reviewing the Coven histories back centuries, but could not find another recorded instance of visanis among any of the Covens.”

“Oh,” Ena replied, feeling disappointed. She really hoped Heran would be able to find answers for her. To find something about her Gift and what it meant for her path.

“However,” Heran continued, “Gaia graced me with her presence in my dreams last night, and she encouraged me to reveal something to you—something that I think is highly relevant to this Gift and which may help us to determine her intentions for your path.”

Heran stood slowly and went to one of the smaller trunks in the corner of the room.

She opened it and took out a large old-looking book with a worn, dark-green leather cover and handed it to Ena.

The book was heavy as she balanced it on her two hands.

The binding had clearly become loose from repeated use, so Ena was gentle as she rested it on her left forearm and flipped back the cover to reveal the title page.

In a handwritten decorative script that was faded with age, was the title: The Evolution of Magic .

While Ena had spent hours in this room growing up, flipping through the journals and grimoires of previous matriarchs, and studying intensely the various methods of healing and herbal magics, she had never seen this book before.

“What is it?” she asked.

“A book,” Heran replied matter-of-factly.

“Yes, of course, matriarch,” Ena said, smiling gently. People often underestimated Heran’s dry sense of humor, but having lived with her almost her entire life, Ena was used to it. “I meant, what does it say?”

“Many things—things which may help explain why Gaia granted you such a rare Gift.”

Ena began to look through the book silently, waiting for Heran to go on.

“Did you know that all magic comes from the same source?” she began.

“Long ago, only mortals walked the earth, but one day, Gaia and Iblis came together and granted magic to a chosen few. For a while, all those with magic, and those without, coexisted peacefully. But conflicts arose, events transpired, and eventually, those with magic came to a divide. Daemons, whose Powers are naturally inclined to sow chaos, confusion, discontent, and discord, chose to serve Iblis, and he became their Master. And witches, as you know, chose to use their Gifts to maintain the balance and to perpetuate the Turning, and they went to serve Gaia. Their magic still comes from the same source, however, so sometimes Gifts and Powers can be shared among them.”

“So visanis …my Gift. It’s one that a daemon can have as well?”

“Yes. That is my theory, at least, but I can’t say for sure.

We have no contact with daemons, as you well know, not since the divide.

This is why you must be careful. Visanis is a powerful Gift that must only be used to serve Gaia and maintain the balance, lest you accidentally fulfill an intention of Iblis’s. ”

Ena’s hands gripped the book tighter at Heran’s warning.

She knew that witches could unintentionally tap into Iblis’s will and do his bidding, but she had never heard of it truly happening.

She’d thought it was just a story, something told to witch children to scare them into behaving and keeping them on the proper path to serving Gaia.

“As such,” Heran continued, “you may only use it in special circumstances, and only once I commune with Gaia to confirm that it serves her, otherwise it is strictly forbidden. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Heran,” Ena replied.

“Good. I’m sure this is not what you wish to hear, but trust that this is what Gaia requires of you.”

“Yes, Heran,” she repeated. She had so many questions, but she’d learned long ago not to pester Heran with them. Her declarations brooked no argument or discussion.

“Oh, and Ena,” Heran called as Ena turned to leave. “I hope it goes without saying that this information I’ve shared with you is not common knowledge, and it should remain that way. If too many were to learn this history, it could be dangerous.”

“How so?” Ena asked, brows creasing. Hopefully Heran would allow her this one.

“Well, there are some who might come to see daemons as our equals and wish to welcome them back into mortal and witch society. This, of course, would only lead to further chaos. I’m trusting you with this knowledge so that you may better understand your Gift and why you must be cautious with it.

I know you’ll treat this knowledge responsibly. ”

“Of course, Heran.” Ena smiled in reassurance.

Feeling that she was dismissed, Ena left the altar room, a feeling of unease following her.

She was all at once disappointed, disturbed, and confused by everything Heran had told her.

She was disappointed that she wouldn’t be able to use her Gift like everyone else.

She was certainly wary of it, given what it could do, but to learn that her Gift could also be daemonic?

Well, that disturbed her. Ena had had no idea that Gifts and Powers could be shared between witches and daemons, or that their magic once came from the same source.

And if she were being honest, she was confused as to why Heran had insisted she keep this history a secret.

This knowledge seemed important for others to know, to understand.

If anything, to know that daemons once had so much in common with witches and had chosen a separate path, one of discord and destruction, was more damning of daemons and their choices than thinking they were always separate.

It did not make her inclined to welcome daemons back into society.

And then there was the fact that, despite knowing all this about her Gift and where it came from, it still called to her. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about it—what it felt like, what it could do…

But she wouldn’t use it. She would do what Heran asked of her, like she always did.

Ena went about her chores for the remainder of the day, plastering on a big, fake smile when she joined Greya in the gardens to harvest herbs.

She explained what Heran had told her about not using her Gift unless she expressly communicated with Gaia, but left out the historical details.

She hoped that Greya would learn this one day anyway, when she became matriarch and was entrusted with all the knowledge that entailed.

She spent the rest of the day trying fervently to keep her mind from these recent events and focus on her path, and like everything she put her mind to, she was largely successful.

But later that night, as Ena drifted off to sleep, she could not stop her mind from turning once again to old memories, and that restless feeling from the night before returned.

And while she knew she should be grateful for everything Gaia had given her and that she should be steadfast in finding her path with the Coven, in her dreams, she saw a different, dark path, and she yearned to walk down it.