Chasity begets Lust

Temperance begets Gluttony

Charity begets Greed

Diligence begets Sloth

Forgiveness begets Wrath

Kindness begets Envy

Humility begets Pride

Laying under my heavy comforter as my Lux stone shone upon my Witchs' Compendium, the story reminding us all of the cataclysm that happened a millennium and a half ago. As the Witchs' of Olde attempted to seal the rift in the universe, only to seal most of it but a small opening remaining open. Allowing strange creatures into our world.

Outside my window, far off in the distance, by the light of a full Moon you could make out large column, branches streaming out in all different directions. Opening my window and sitting on the ledge, looking straight up into the starry sky, the vestiges of a few branches hovered over the orphanage. The peaceful night occasionally broken by the cries of demons in the distance.

Looking down to the wrought iron fence surrounding my home, and the gleaming glass archway that stood guard over the entrance and if you were walking up to the entrance, looked up at the arch, you would see our Witch stone glowing softly in the night. The moonlight slowly energizing and purifying all the demons that it had warded off for the month.

Sighing and clutching the book to my chest, pinching my finger between the pages, opening the book again to the proverb. My favorite part of this chapter is the colourful picture underneath, one half quite luminous and other smoky. Each of the 7 Witchs' of Olde representing a Heavenly Virtue, all the colours of the rainbow in iridescent paint. As Light of Magic poured forth from the hands, encasing each Demon of Sin in a tight Bubble of Sealing.

"Marcus, come to bed honey. The night is late and we have much travelling to be done in the morn," the comforting feeble voice of Diane from the doorway," and shut that window or you will catch your death of a cold. That's a dear." Swinging the window shut and climbing down from the ledge my short chubby legs barely grazing the chilly wooden floor, smooth from the hundreds, if not thousands of children that ran around this bedroom through the ages.

"Granny. could you leave the door open a little, I don't wanna be left in the dark," whimpering to the land lady of the orphanage, climbing into my rickety metal bed. Ancient bed springs groaning even from my petite body rolling over in my sheets, with crinkly sand paper hands grazed my shoulders and the other hand pulling the sheets away from my tangled feet.

Diane smiling gently at me, loving whenever I called her Granny, for she didn't have her own children. Instead of talking further, her lips grazing my forehead with a grandmotherly kiss, tucking the sheets firmly. Walking out of my room, she gave me one last smile and left the door open a crack, laying in my bed in silence, I could still hear the monsters far off in the distance, roaring into the empty sky; sending chills to any who could hear and most defintely scaring the day lights out of coming of age children still.

Directly below my room, the parlor where Diane took her Evening tea and listening to soft classical piano music. Listening to the music, Diane never realizing she hummed along to the music every night, her knitting needles clinking away into the night. All of these noises, fondly drowning out the horrific nightly noises, eye lids growing heavy but still clutching the book tightly to my chest, drifting into dreamless sleep. Even in the early morning, Diane found me clutching the book in my left hand and drool dripping onto my pillow.