Chapter 9 THE BURIAL

　　WITCHES COVEN IN ALASKA

　　Some Weeks After The Death Of The Hati’s.

　　The tragic death of Lucy and Michael Hati, had travelled wide and far.

　　It was no longer news, that their daughters Ruby and Daciana Hati, were now orphans.

　　Today was their burial.

　　The sorrowful burial of one of the strongest witch couples in Alaska, and the great beyond.

　　The event was a really tragic one, and after gathering their dead bodies from the cliff where they had fallen to their demise, the head of the witches in Alaska, Roland Dark, an 100 year old sorcerer with the help of Michael’s only sister and co witch Helene, who was also Ruby and Daciana’s aunt had arranged for the burial.

　　As was the tradition, rites were going to be performed on the dead bodies before they would be laid to rest, or probably burned.

　　Whichever way though, the burial ceremony was already underway.

　　The ceremony began with the tires performed on the dead bodies and the cleansing of the dead bodies.

　　While this was going on, Ruby and Daciana watched, having no slight knowledge of what this meant for them.

　　Ruby was seated on a ceremonial stool with her cousin sisters, Princess, Bianca and Diana Lupin.

　　They were the three daughters of Helene.

　　Daciana meanwhile was being held by one of the women, who were gathered for the burial.

　　As usual, the dress code for the day was black, and everyone was dressed impeccably in black and some touches of red.

　　Sucking on their thumbs, quiet all through, both sisters, despite separated had their eyes glued on their parents dead bodies, which was laid out in the open coffin.

　　“Aunty, is Dada sleeping?” Ruby asked in a whisper at her aunt who had come to dress one of her daughter’s properly.

　　“Will you shut up?” Helene answered albeit harshly, but in a whisper too, as she didn’t want to attract any states from people gathered around.

　　Ruby didn’t even flinch at her words, instead the four year old said again, “I know they are not. They won’t come to me and Daci again. I can see darkness everywhere. It’s even evident in the clouds, but not to worry, things might get better soon. Of course it would.”

　　She stretched her rosebud lips in a smile, not caring about anything in the world, but people around who had heard her, and even Helene stood frozen.

　　What the hell had come out of a five year old’s mouth?

　　Whispers rose in the crowd, and as for Helene she was chilled to the bone.

　　A shiver had ran down her spine after what the little girl had said, but she was trying her best to be cool, calm and collected.

　　As if the weather was in line with what Ruby had said earlier, the sky and clouds became darker, and as the burial chants continued, everywhere became eerily quiet and had this suspenseful feeling.

　　It was as if something spiritual was about to happen, yet nothing happened.

　　Helene standing defiant, looked at her brother’s second daughter Daciana, and seeing that the toddler was already asleep she gave a chilling smile.

　　Heads turned towards the crowd, she watched as the burial rites of her brother took place.

　　Helene didn’t even care about Lucy, tears in her eyes she wept for her brother.

　　She had hated Michael’s wife, tight from when they’d started courting, for no reason and the feeling had been mutual between them.

　　She remembered days when they’d fought, with her brother separating them, and days when she’d mocked the poor lady accusing her of being barren.

　　Most times Lucy had called her a witch, and attributing the fact that she couldn’t give birth to her, and Helene always mocked her for it.

　　The lady had reduced her brother’s love for her, and just like that she had also taken away her brother with her.

　　Helene clenched her fists tightly as she fought back the tears that was threatening to spill from her face.

　　Even in death, she would never show her weakness.

　　Now that her brother was gone, the only living relative she had left, this made her the only remaining child of her parents that was still alive.

　　The dawning revelation that the affairs of Michael’s two children would be passed down to her, made her week all the more.

　　The hatred she had for their mother would definitely be passed down to them, that was for sure.

　　But for now, she would keep up appearances, she had to act cool.

　　She definitely had to act cool.

　　* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

　　AGATHA’S POV

　　Agatha stood from afar, and watched the whole assembly of witches gathered.

　　Today was the burial of the couple that had visited her some weeks ago.

　　Just as the gods had predicted, they had fallen to their demise, leaving behind their two daughters and now they were orphans.

　　For some unknown reasons she had decided to come for the burial, maybe to pay her last respect to the ever loving couple that had suffered so much.

　　So much, and the fact that this demise of theirs could’nt even be prevented at all, worsened her case and Agatha who never showed remorse or pity, was getting emotional now.

　　Still standing, holding her staff tightly and watching the processions, Agatha’s heart squeezed painfully, and a vision flashed before her eyes.

　　She saw two grown up women, and then the back of a heavily muscular man…

　　She saw a staff, one that had water gushing from it which was weird and then she saw…

　　She saw an animal and straining her brain, she recognized it as a wolf…

　　And then she saw blood! She saw blood everywhere, so much blood that she had to force herself out of the vision.

　　She just couldn’t condone it anymore.

　　“Tueh…” She spat out, swatting at a fly with her staff, and opening her eyes immediately.

　　What kind of visions were this?

　　Lately the gods had just been revealing the future to her, but they were half baked.

　　She needed something straightforward, something she could understand.

　　Her never aging brain, was to to old and fragile to understand or comprehend the things the gods were revealing to her.

　　“What do you mean great ones? What visions are you trying to reveal?” She whispered to herself, asking rhetoric questions that she was not going to get an answer to.

　　Suddenly thunder striked and the ferocity at which it sounded, was enough to holy her from her random thoughts and she focused back on the burial ceremony.

　　It seemed they had finished chanting, dancing and drumming, and this time she saw them dressing the dead bodies and stacking up woods.

　　They were going to burn the dead bodies, and then the ashes would be used to purify and guard the souls of their children.

　　She knew all these things, she was a witch too.

　　Sighing, and picking up her staff, Agatha turned backwards clad in her long black robe and headed back down the creepy silent road where she had come from.

　　It was going to be a long long journey back to her tent.

　　A long journey that would be filled with prayers, and supplication to the gods.