42. Tate
42
TATE
The ancient oak at the centre of Thornfield’s grounds has stood sentinel for over five hundred years, apparently. Funnily enough, I know now that my ancestors planted it when they first claimed this land, infusing it with their power and making it more than just a tree. Now, as I place my hand against its weathered bark, I can feel every moment of those centuries, every spell cast in its shade, every oath sworn beneath its branches, every Well whoever drew strength from its presence.
The connection hits like a thunderbolt, making my knees buckle. Power surges through me, something deep, wild. My blood turns to liquid fire in my veins, and suddenly I’m not just touching the tree, I’m connected to everything. Every blade of grass, every root system, every living thing on these grounds becomes an extension of my consciousness.
“Easy there, little spark.” My grandmother’s voice comes first, followed by her form materialising beside me. She looks exactly as she did in life, what little I can remember before she died. Her silver hair in a tight braid, green eyes sharp as emeralds, that familiar half-smile playing at her lips. “You’re trying to drink the ocean through a straw. Let it flow naturally.”
“Gran.” The word catches in my throat.
She reaches out, and though I know she’s not physically here, I swear I can feel the warmth of her hand on my cheek.
“You’re doing better than any of us expected,” another voice joins in. I know just by looking at him that he is my great-great-grandfather. I just… know . “But you’re still fighting the power instead of flowing with it.”
More figures emerge from the air around us - a gathering of Well ancestors spanning centuries. Sophia, fierce and proud in her Victorian dress, who once held off an army with nothing but her connection to the earth. Richard, who first bound our line to this land, his presence as solid as the ground beneath our feet. Elizabeth, who discovered how to tap into ley lines to enhance our natural magick. Dozens more, each carrying a piece of the power I now hold.
But not my parents. I didn’t expect them. I’m not ready for that yet.
“Show us what you’ve learned,” Gran says, but her tone makes it clear it’s not just a request. The ancestors gather in a loose circle, watching expectantly.
I take a deep breath and reach for the power again, this time trying to flow with it rather than control it. Green energy crackles between my fingers, but it’s different from before. Not just magick, but pure life force. The essence of growth and change and renewal itself.
The grass beneath my feet grows wild, flowers blooming out of season. Trees bend toward me like I’m their sun. But that’s just the surface. I can feel everything. Every cell dividing, every root spreading, every leaf reaching for the sky.
“Better,” Malcolm, my great-great-grandfather, nods. “But you’re still thinking like a warlock. The ancestral power isn’t about controlling nature. It’s about being nature.”
Elizabeth moves forward. “Watch.” She gestures, and suddenly, I can see the ley lines crisscrossing the grounds in rivers of pure power flowing through the earth. “Everything is connected. The trees, the soil, the air itself - it’s all one system. And now, so are you.”
I close my eyes and reach deeper, letting go of my limited perspective. The oak’s life force mingles with mine until there’s no separation. I am the tree, feeling every ring in my trunk, every leaf catching sunlight, every root pushing through the soil. But it doesn’t stop there. Through the oak, I’m connected to every other tree, every plant, every living thing on these grounds.
The knowledge flows with the power - centuries of Well secrets, spells, and wisdom. I see how my ancestors worked with the land itself, how they shaped reality by understanding its patterns. Not just magick, but a deeper understanding of life’s fundamental processes.
“Now you’re beginning to understand,” Sophia says approvingly. “Try something more complex.”
I nod, letting instinct guide me. Green energy spreads from my hands into the earth, and the ground trembles as I reach for something older than magick itself. A grove of saplings bursts from the soil, but this time I’m not just making them grow - I’m participating in their growth, guiding it with the accumulated knowledge of generations.
“Excellent,” Richard says. “But remember, creation is only half the equation.”
He’s right. I shift my focus, and time seems to slow. I watch as leaves wither and fall, as branches age decades in seconds, as new growth springs from decay. The cycle of life, death, and rebirth plays out under my hands.
“The balance,” Gran nods. “That’s what makes our power different from ordinary magick. We don’t just use nature, we’re part of its fundamental processes.”
I reach deeper into the ancestral knowledge, and new possibilities unfold. The air shimmers as I draw moisture from it, forming clouds above our heads. The earth shifts and flows like water as I tap into its molten core. Seeds that might have taken years to germinate sprout in seconds, while others enter dormancy at my command.
“The elements themselves respond to our power,” Elizabeth explains. “Because we understand their true nature. Their patterns. Their purpose.”
To demonstrate, I reach out to the weather itself. Storm clouds gather overhead, responding to my will. But it’s more than just control - I can feel the complex interactions of temperature and pressure, the dance of water molecules in the air, the electric potential building between clouds and earth.
Lightning arcs down, striking the ground before me. But instead of destruction, it leaves a pattern of crystallised earth, fulgurite formed in the shape of the Well family crest.
“Show off,” Sophia laughs. “But well done. You’re learning to work with nature’s forces rather than against them.”
“But why now?” I ask, letting the storm dissipate. “Why did the power choose this moment to evolve?”
The ancestors exchange knowing looks before Gran answers. “Because it had to. The old ways are changing. The barriers between worlds are shifting. New powers are rising, and old ones must adapt or fade away.”
“Our line has always been about adaptation,” Malcolm adds. “About finding new ways to use ancient power. That’s why the ancestral magick chose you, Tate. You understand change. You embrace it.”
A surge of power ripples through the earth, making us all pause. Through my enhanced awareness, I feel reality itself shifting, responding to forces beyond normal comprehension. The very fabric of the supernatural world is changing, evolving into something new.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Elizabeth asks. “The transformation that’s coming?”
I nod, letting my awareness spread further. The changes aren’t just here at Thornfield, they’re everywhere. The supernatural world is evolving, and we’re at the heart of it.
“But I still don’t understand everything,” I admit. “There’s so much power, so much knowledge. How do I access it all?”
“You don’t need to know everything at once,” Gran says gently. “The knowledge will come when you need it. The power will guide you.”
As if to prove her point, a new memory surfaces. A spell my ancestors used to communicate across vast distances using the natural energy fields of the earth. Without thinking, I reach for it, letting the power flow through me. Green energy spreads out in a web, connecting to the ley lines Elizabeth showed me.
Suddenly I can feel everything happening on the grounds. I feel Bram, Torin and Ivy.
“They’re coming,” I say, feeling my friends moving towards us. “They felt the power.”
The ancestors begin to fade, returning to whatever plane they inhabit now. Soon, only Gran, Malcolm, and Sophia remain.
“Remember,” Malcolm says, his form growing transparent, “the power is yours now, but we’ll always be here when you need guidance. Just reach for us through the earth itself.”
Sophia nods. “You carry our legacy, but you’ll forge your own path. That’s as it should be.”
Gran is the last to fade. “Make us proud, little spark. Though you already have.”
As their presence fades, I feel my friends approaching. The ancestral magick hums through my veins, stronger than ever but finally, completely under control.
“Holy shit, Tate,” Bram calls out as they reach the oak. “I could feel that display from the other side of campus. Since when can you control the weather?”
I grin, letting green energy dance between my fingers. “Since about ten minutes ago, apparently.”
Ivy’s power reaches out instinctively, connecting with mine where life meets death. “Everything okay? We felt the power spike all the way inside.”
“More than okay,” I say, meaning it. “Just getting some family guidance. You should have seen it, a Well family reunion.”
“Your mother?” she asks carefully.
I shake my head. “No, but that’s okay. She will come. So will my dad and the Black side. It’s all here when I’m ready.”
I smile at Torin, who returns it, and then, in the blink of an eye, he’s gone.
“Err, where did Torin go?” Ivy asks.
“Hopefully to somewhere he can have his little epiphany like me and Tate have,” Bram states.
“Good luck,” I whisper, knowing he can hear me wherever he is.