5. ITALIA/RUTHENIA 15th Century #2
Abriana was deeply moved, captivated even by the undeniable love she felt flowing between the red-headed man and Pietro—no, she had to stop thinking that, believing that, as much as it pained her to do so.
He was that man, the Romani witch reborn. Her Pietro was gone forever.
Just before the vision ended, Abriana was overcome by feelings of frustration, failure, and fear. And then she saw violence, blood, and the gruesome deaths of both brave young men.
The terrifying vision completely overwhelmed Abriana’s senses, unravelling her grasp on reality. She cried out in emotional distress for Pietro as she fell to the floor of their bedroom in a disoriented heap.
Her family, rushing to her side, lifted her off the cold floor and carried her back to her bed. Abriana convalesced there for nearly a week, her energy and spirit having been severely drained by the horrors she witnessed in the vividly detailed vision.
Pietro’s mamma, well-versed in the naturalist remedies passed down from her husband’s grandmother—though unaware of the mystical elements behind her herbalism—managed to brew a healing tea using the few lessons Abriana had shared about the medicinal properties of certain roots.
The concoction aided in the matriarch’s recovery.
Upon regaining her strength, Abriana reflected deeply upon her vision.
She accepted that the red-haired man was profoundly, even mystically connected to Pietro’s soul, though not to him but to the other ; this vision was intended for the Romani witch, the sleeping consciousness, upon his waking.
Abriana felt compelled by divine providence to share this dark future with him, to guide him and prevent tragedy, and she believed that wholeheartedly.
There was never a guarantee with her premonitions that she would immediately understand their meanings. They were often puzzles, mysteries, and enigmas that Abriana had to decipher to use for guidance—and as warnings—if she wished to alter the futures they revealed to her.
This time, however, she clearly understood what the vision revealed and what it needed to impart to her. She grasped it with her heart, her mind, and deep within her very soul: she needed to prepare Pietro for the future with every advantage she could bestow upon him.
That way, when the Romani witch ultimately took control of Pietro’s body, he would have access to all her arcane knowledge, in addition to the inherent mystical abilities she saw he possessed in her vision.
Though mortal, she was a witch of considerable strength, and over her long life, she had come to know much of magic’s deepest mysteries.
This added power might give the Romani witch a crucial advantage in his battle against the formidable evil that loomed on the horizon, preparing him for the confrontation when their paths inevitably crossed.
And so, in secret, day and night, Abriana seized every opportunity to teach Pietro her magic, revealing the power and elegance of witchcraft away from the eyes of those who lived only in the mundane.
She poured everything she knew, including the darker aspects of her magic, into the boy to give the Romani witch a better fighting chance against this future great evil.
Pietro was an eager and enthusiastic student; no one could have asked for a more promising, naturally gifted apprentice.
Abriana had only ever taught her witchcraft to one other person: her daughter, Pietro’s grandmother, who sadly died in childbirth while bringing Pietro’s papa into the world.
Overwhelmed by grief for not being able to save her child in time with her magic, Abriana had retreated from practicing witchcraft for years, cursing her gift of foresight, suppressing it, believing it had failed her when she needed it most. In her pain, she wanted nothing to do with it.
It had taken the birth of her great-grandchildren, whom she loved immensely, for Abriana to eventually move past her grief and once more seek harmony with both the natural and metaphysical worlds.
As the years passed, Pietro grew in magical strength, but remained humble and ever solitary. He gave up all his relationships outside of family ties, including friendships and romantic possibilities, to concentrate on his mystical studies.
Abriana had never asked for this sacrifice; her great-grandson offered it willingly.
Once, when she asked Pietro if he felt lonely, he replied that his family was enough for now, though one day he would make room for companionship. He wanted to wait for that special person he believed the universe was destined to create just for him.
And when Pietro ended that conversation by stating that he hoped his future mate had red hair, Abriana forced a smile, suppressing the gasp of shock that wanted very much to escape.
The red-haired statement meant that everything she had envisioned was moving forward; Pietro’s dark destiny was assured.
Pietro often found ways to use his witchcraft to help his family. Everything he did was selfless; he always used his knowledge and abilities altruistically. He made his great-grandmother incredibly proud, astonished even at how quickly he took to magic and how effortlessly he advanced in power.
At thirteen, Pietro wanted to create a spell to enrich his family’s soil and ensure that no other olive grove in the region could produce crops as perfect as theirs each year.
Pietro set out to work his spell in secret, without any aid from his mentor, using only his imagination and the knowledge gained through his instruction in witchcraft.
To compose his spell, he used the blood of a newborn goat, drawn from the afterbirth rather than by slaughter; volcanic ash from the nearby Mount Amiata; and the manure of his family’s closest neighbours’ strongest Chianina bull.
Pietro created a potent liniment by combining these ingredients with herbs such as rosemary, sage, and thyme, as well as crushed roots from a healthy olive tree.
Upon the witching hour, he slathered the concoction all over his body. Then, he buried himself in the earth of his family’s land, leaving only his face uncovered for breathing. As he lay awake throughout the night, he prayed to both Hecate and Terra, Mother Earth, for their blessings.
In the morning, he dug himself out and waited to see the results of his spell.
To Pietro’s delight, his papa’s next harvest was astonishingly abundant; every olive gleamed with perfection, plump and unblemished, each a testament to the care and dedication poured into the orchards, including his magic.
The trees were heavy with their vibrant fruit, creating a breathtaking scene of nature’s bounty. Pietro was proud of his achievement but not arrogant; he was simply joyous to see that his first major enchantment had worked perfectly.
This mystical advantage allowed his papa to sell his olive oil at a higher price, as demand for the high-quality product tripled. As a result, he had the funds to acquire more land and address the many issues plaguing their home, which had been steadily falling into disrepair.
At fifteen, Pietro, on the cusp of adulthood, faced a daunting challenge: saving his younger siblings from the deadly grip of a severe brain fever.
Abriana, accompanied by her grandsons—Pietro’s papa and his uncle Amadeo—had travelled to the shores of the Tyrrhenian Sea; she wished to feel its waters one last time before her eventual passing.
With the great healer absent when the illness struck, Pietro was left to confront the crisis alone.
Again, he turned to herbology and logomancy.
In secret, Pietro blended fungi, cypress bark, salt, fresh milk, and, most importantly, an oil distilled from oleander and rue to brew a potent potion.
Over it, he whispered ancient healing words found in his great-grandmother’s grimoire.
The tonic eased his siblings’ suffering, but it was not enough to conquer the seemingly incurable fever.
Frantic and running out of time, a teary-eyed Pietro knew he had to do something drastic, something he had never been taught, only felt was possible. This was his final hope.
Though it took some effort, he convinced his reluctant and terrified mamma to wait outside the house while he bled the children. He had no intention of doing that barbaric act, of course, but he knew his mother’s weak stomach would get her to leave.
Once alone in the room, Pietro did something he had never before attempted: he reached deep within himself, past fear, past doubt, and called forth the magic at his core.
Placing his hands on the fevered brow of the eldest of his younger brothers, Pietro channelled his own life force into the child to drive the illness out completely, as if compelling the sickness to surrender to his love and will alone.
As his deep, dark eyes transformed into a ghostly white, a wave of heat radiated from his skin, infusing the air around him with intense energy. With a resolute focus, Pietro summoned all his willpower to eradicate the infection.
In that moment of unwavering determination to heal one he loved at the cost of his own life, as radiant light began to envelop his body, Pietro triumphed over his adversary; the illness vanished like shadows at dawn, leaving a renewed vitality and strength behind for both him and his sibling.
The young witch had never felt so alive, so strong, magically and spiritually. As he had no idea how long this euphoric, empowered state would last, Pietro moved quickly to his other siblings, healing them one by one.
Upon curing the last child, the young witch collapsed onto the floor, completely spent and exhausted. Yes, his breathing was laboured, his body filled with aches and pains, but none of it mattered to him. He felt a deep relief knowing that his siblings were healed and alive.