Devotion

***Note to reader: This is a non-erotic installment of the story. There is no sex in this chapter. If you absolutely will not read a story without sex, I understand, the second installment will not rely on your knowledge of this one.

I hope you all enjoy my first publication, the second is on its way. Comments and votes are gratefully appreciated (but keep it nice or I'll cry). That's all for my long introduction, so, happy reading. Xoxo -SG***

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What determines one's devotion?

Not just the desire to be devoted to something, but the purest form of unrequited, unforced devotion? How long does it take to fully develop such a devotion?

These thoughts buzzed like white noise through my mind as I sat on the shoreline. The wind blew my hair back out of my eyes as I dipped my feet into the warm salty water. I watched the water ebb and flow, creating white bubbles on the surface. I drew my index finger through the wet sand, marking our symbol for devotion. My whole life here, on these lands had been just that, a symbol of my devotion. Thinking of my life, my eyes settled on the far away line where the water met the sky, almost melting into one. On the other side of that line was what could've been my life.

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"Please Bishop, bless my child under the safe light of the Lord." Holding out a baby, a young blonde woman begged the man of God to help her child. With a thumb on the baby's forehead, the man began reciting a prayer he knew well, but, there was a problem. He removed his hand with such force that the Bishop almost fell backwards. "That child is not of God!" He shouted, pointing accusingly at the small child. "Are you that child's mother?" Swallowing her nerves, the woman nodded.

Waving his arms with a theatrical fervor, not at all suitable for a church, he screamed for the woman to leave. He demanded she rid the earth of the sinful child, and that she herself should leave far from the town she knew as home.

With tears in her eyes, the woman ran through the thick, damp forest holding the baby tight to her breast, and never stopped. She ran until her feet bled and she could no longer hold herself up. As she fell to her knees, tears trailed down her dirt covered cheeks. The small baby made no sound as she watching her mother sob. "I'm so sorry my innocent babe," moaned the sad woman. "This is no life to be desired, I should've known better not to bring a child into it!" Moans turned into cries of terrible sadness as the mothers' tears fell onto the blankets wrapping her baby. In her state, the mother did not notice the crunching of leaves as someone stepped out from the trees. In the small clearing, a stranger approached the young mother.

"What ever are you crying for, my dear?" Chimed a soft yet stern voice.

Turning sharply, the blonde woman looked at her new cloaked companion. "I.. I have made a terrible mistake and treason to God!" The strange woman removed her hood to reveal her long raven braid atop her almost snow colored skin. Still sniffling on the floor, this young mother couldn't help but admire the strange beauty in this woman before her. From her sharp jaw and high cheek bones, to the dark, almost blackness of her eyes.

With a slight smirk on her face, this odd looking stranger spoke again. "That babe," she pointed around the mother, "She has no father." It was a statement, not a question, which left no room for an answer. "You thought your God could save her from damnation. Well, congratulations my dear" she said, almost sadly, "You've made a darling witch" And with a final flick of her wrist, the small babe lay safely in the stranger's arms. Looking panicked, the mother clawed desperately at the spot her baby once lay.

"Please! Don't hurt her!" She begged, pleading at this devilish woman's feet.

The dark Witch slapped down the bumbling young woman. "I would never harm this young witch like your people would, you fool."

"Sh...she's not a witch! She's just a babe, please!" The young blonde tried to reach for her daughter, but was struck down by some unseen force.

Watching this young girl quiver in fear, the powerful witch spoke steadily. "Any babe, born out of wedlock, is damned by the powers that be." With a small laugh, she looked at the baby, then back at the small young girl. "You defied your God, taking to bed with a man before marriage. Now, you are paying your price. Maybe it is your God that causes this to happen, but I believe, the fate of this child is far beyond what your God can control." Instantly, without further a word, the mysterious witch disappeared, the bastard babe still in her arms. Furious and scared, the blonde mother searched the small clearing for any sign of the mystic woman. There was nothing, no woman, now sound, and no baby.

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"Geneiva, we're ready." A familiar stern voice broke my recollection of the story I'd been told so many times. I picked myself up, dusting off the sand that clung to my thighs. I stared out at the water for a moment longer, wondering what my life would have been if I wasn't saved from those woods. "Geneiva, come now. We haven't much more time." I quickly turned, forgetting my imaginary life. Celia held her hand out for me, and I took it, relishing in the warmth of her snow white skin. As we turned to walk back to the cottage where the rest of our coven was ready for me, I watched her midnight black braid sway, almost like a cats tail. The only noise to be heard was the sudden slew of powerful waves crashing into the previously calm waters. Each wave hit on the same pattern as the beat of my heart, which I knew, was not a coincidence. Every part of me was in tune with nature right now, in this moment. I was exactly where I needed to be, and soon, I'd help to change my sister's lives, by changing mine own, forever.