A MOTHER’S LOVE

Thirty minutes later, the spell is successfully cast and Lia’ condition is stable, even though she still remains unconscious. Sandara heaves a sigh of relief and sinks to the floor, exhausted beyond measure. Her eyes, however, tell a different story, as they sparkle with unbridled joy and something that bears a close resemblance to fear. I almost lost her.

Estelle is not much different. Even as she struggles to maintain a detached look, the sides of her lips tilt downwards in a surreptitious manner. The two sisters stared at each other for a long time, until Sandara giggles. Estelle tries to maintain a modicum of calm but fails as they both burst into laughter.

“If anyone heard you laugh like this, they’d run far away, refusing to believe that the oh so great and mighty High Witch is guffawing like a brute.” Sandara taunts her sister, as usual.

“That’s why there’s no one to hear me.”

“You seem to forget that your lovely daughter and your beloved sister heard you loud and clear.”

“We both know that she’s fast asleep and dead to the world right now.”

“What about me?”

“You’re free to do as you please. Don’t blame me if something ‘accidentally’ happens to you.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I don’t dare.” Estelle sounds scared, but the smirk on her face gives her away. “And to the think the High Witch doesn’t scare easily. Guess I was wrong.”

“I never believed that the Jade Witch would ever be reduced to a blubbering mess, but here we are. And to think that she didn’t even give a damn about her image. How quaint.”

Sandara refuses to be bested by her sister. “I will have you know that I set up guards within and around this house. Who dares to trespass?”

Estelle ignores her sister and heads for the kitchen. The spell she just cast was an exhausting one, and even working together with her sister only served to lighten the burden a bit. Spells like that were cast by a minimum of five witches, four if they were incredibly powerful and as much as twenty, if they weren’t. Apart from that, there was a technique for casting those kinds of spells, where each caster equally absorb whatever backlash occurred. Such techniques required great dexterity and commensurate experience, both of which Sandara did not have. Thus, she only ended up merely providing energy and lifeforce to support the spell, which wasn’t an easy task, but still wasn’t the most effective approach. However, there was no time to call for help, so the High Witch had to slug it out with her sister. Half bread, they say, is always better than none.

Still, it didn’t erase the fact that she was exhausted- physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. She may not look like it, but she’s literally running on fumes at this point. Without anything to replenish some of her energy, she doubts if she can make it back to the coven in one piece.

The homely feel within the kitchen brings a queer sense of comfort to Estelle, and she knows that love is not lost between the duo, despite the continuous banter and exchange of scathing remarks. This brings tears to her eyes, but she quickly blinks them away. I am the High Witch for crying out loud. Why am I so emotional? It must be the tiredness getting to me. Yes, it’s the tiredness and not the fact that I somehow miss my girls terribly.

“What are you doing here?” Sandara’s coarse voice jolts her out of her reverie. “I-I’m trying to replenish a little strength before I leave.”

“I’m not chasing you away.” Sandara is quick to defend. “I’m just a little surprised that you’re still around.”

“Don’t get used to it. I’m on my way out already.”

“Ah, ah, ah. That won’t be happening. At least not anytime soon. Your daughter is unconscious and I’m too weak to do anything. You wouldn’t want to abandon two helpless witchlings to the mercy of fate, would you?”

“Who was it that warned me recently to never call her a witchling?”

“I don’t know. I may have suffered a bit of memory loss due to the entire shebang.” Sandara pretends to be painfully oblivious. She certainly will not pass up this unwonted opportunity that has wonderfully presented itself. Her eyes flash with mischief at the thought of having the High Witch babysit her. At least I can get away with behaving recklessly and making things much more interesting. Ah! The joys of having an elder sibling!

“Ah yes. Memory loss indeed.” Estelle tries not to laugh at her sister’s attempts to get her to stay. As much as I would love to, I know better than to stay.

She has to protect her daughter, yes, but her duty is first to the witches. Every other thing comes right after. She understands the implications of the vows she took just before she became the High Witch, but it doesn’t make it hurt any lesser.

“Stay a little longer, sis. Why don’t you spend the night here?”

“I’m well enough to return.”

“I might be exhausted, but I am most certainly not stupid.” Sandara is not fooled by the false image of strength her elder sister is desperately portraying.

“I must return.” The finality in her voice leaves no room for argument. “Besides, you’re much stronger now. You can keep her safe.”

Sandara tries to hide her surprise. How did she know?

“You hid it too well. I’d never had even known.”

“I didn’t… I-I’m not trying to… I would never…”

Estelle places a hand on her shoulder and looks into her eyes. “I know. I understand.”

At once, the younger witch relaxes, relieved that her sister understands that she doesn’t have any intention of usurping her position.

With a heavy heart, Sandara watches her sister walk into the portal without as much as a backward glance. One day it’ll all be over.