Chapter Thirteen

Imelda’s POV

My gifts are unique, even among my kind. We have folktales and oral lore, which speak of only a single deathless witch ever existing at any one time in history. When I first learned what I could do, I was young and without guidance. My mother had just passed away and I was too overcome with grief and anger to listen to what I was being told.

I’m ashamed to admit I tried to end my time here, all I wanted was to see her again. I needed to know why. She wouldn’t come to me in any from. I tried calling for her, I scried, spent weeks in the astral planes searching, hoping she would come to me, but nothing.

After drinking the Nerium tea, I had a momentary lapse of conviction. When I woke in the stone circle my sister witches had laid me in for protection, I was relieved to have somehow survived. I knew what my mother was, that is why I felt so betrayed. A deathless witch has to choose to die. She chose to leave me. I can’t accept that she acted without reason, so I learned to l