The Witches Familiar

From the wayside bed chamber Anne entered into the washroom. A tall and beautiful, black-haired woman, she was the envy of the other women. Anne held no fear of these women and their misguided stares.

She stood in front of a mirror that had aged in time. As she looked over her still-clothed body, the mirror poorly reflected her image back. The mirror, with its gold framing, was made by a french inventor who claimed that the metal it was made out of would last for an eternity. This same french man bankrupt himself after his customers refused to pay for such a low quality good.

Slowly, she lifted her hood from her head and shrugged off her garments. She observed her unblemished, naked body tediously, taking in every detail about herself. At her feet lay her discarded clothing, which she stepped out of carefully.

It was time for her annual ritual, a ritual the townspeople did not share in. A ritual that they believed brought about sickness, plague, and misfortune. It was time for mistress Anne's weekly bathing session, complete with exotic perfumes from faraway countries.

Earlier she had her servants fill her a bath with the hottest water they could find. Before they had a chance to tamper with the pure water, she sent them away. All the better, since she preferred bathing alone, unlike some of the silly women of wealth in her town. It would be she, and only she, who would enchant the water with her luxurious scents.

Anne walked over to the tub, the wind playing tricks on her exterior parts. A shiver ran down through her spine as her breasts perked. Eager for the water's warmth, she gently prodded a toe into the warm liquid. A sensation unmatched by any other spread throughout her body, this time a different type of shiver followed; a shiver of comfort.

An ornate bottle filled with the essence of sandalwood lay on the tub's edge. The tub itself was of an elegant design, claw-footed, porceline, and could keep water warm for many hours. Into this tub she poured the sandalwood, being careful to limit the amount of this expensive perfume. All this being possible because she became the inheritant of a large sum of money; she became an incredibly wealthy woman overnight upon her father's death.

It felt sensuous when her body was submerged into the water. Every fiber of her being lit up like a candle, with the warmth embracing her.

From the distance she heard a pitter-patter of little paws. It was a sound that she had not heard for nearly five days, and was growing worried that the owner would not be returning. Alas, a furry head poked its face through the slighly open door, mewing as it squeezed through. In came a cat of humble proportions, being, not as large as a fat tabby, but not as slim as a siamese.

She gave a small laugh, "I had been wondering when you would grace me with your company, Ezekeil."

Ezekeil flicked his tail and in turn, responded: Ah, my mistress, the journey to find what you sought was tedious. I had to convince them I was not a stray.

And although not one word had been spoken by the cat, the woman, or should I say witch, understood her familiar perfectly. It was not uncommon for women of wealth to study the mysterious and unknown. Although, ever since Queen Elizabeth's reign, it was also becoming more dangerous than ever to study witchcraft.

Anne had all of her servants sworn to secrecy, bound by a spell not to speak a word of her practices. When she needed ingredients for spells or potions, she sent Ezekeil to fetch them in small quanities. Now, for seven years she has been able to keep her true-self hidden from the public's prying eyes, while still standing as a public figure for the community. 

In the times she lived in, it was absolutely necessary for no one to know anything about her practice of witchcraft. People didn't react well to the news of a practicing witch, due mostly from the hype that the church cooked up concerning witchcraft. It wasn't devil worship, and they certainly didn't employ the use of demons, (only daemons which is a entirely different creature).

The family secrecy started early on, from her great-grandfather changing the family name from Blackwell to Moore. Blackwell as a surname means to draw from a pool of darkness, and was the community's way of red-listing a family as a possible witch coven.

To avoid suspicion, her great-grandfather moved from Northern England to Southern England, near where Bristol is today. He discarded the old name that was stuck on his family and reverted back to an altered version of the original family name, Moorecott; he dropped the -cott and used only Moore.

If secrecy was not maintained, and there was even an whisper of suspicion, it would mean death to everyone in the house. Anne's servants would be punished for keeping their tongues, Anne would be beheaded and have a stake driven through her heart, and any suspected agents of darkness would be slayed, aka familiars.

Ezekeil flicked his tail impatiently, waiting for his mistress to treat him. He wouldn't give an hint of information until he got a treat for his hard effort. To his delight, she snapped her fingers twice and a dish of fish treats was place in front of him by Tanaka, a servant girl.

The Madam Blanche seeks to destroy your reputation. She has enlisted the help of Sir Clement, and detective Barrentine to investigate this house. My mistress, we must act under the utmost caution.

Ezekeil had the body of a cat, but the spirit of a human. He found Anne when he was just a kitten, being nothing but a ball of frozen fur on her front stoop. She took him in and slowly they worked together to develop a strong bond. Through this bond, the spirit of Ezekeil was created and a telepathic/empathic connection was formed. Because Anne is a human, she imbued a piece of herself within her small kitten, nurturing it to be a witches helper.

Agnes, you are most quiet on this day. Does it not concern you that these adversaries and defamers plot against your house? Miss, whatever shall we do about the Madam? 

Ezekeil (Ehz-ee-key-all)

Blanche (Bl-au-n-sh)

Tanaka (Ten-au-caw)