Some of my responsibilities as a witch who has been invested with a certain amount of … I really don’t even know. Trust? Responsibility? I mean, I use the word “sovereign”, but if you think about it a Sovereign is fuckin’ obligated to ride their ass out into battle to protect their people. They are obligated to hear the daily grievances, and provide protection and shelter within the walls of the keep. A Sovereign serves as much as they are served by their people.
So… Included in my “sovereign responsibilites” is maintaining a small pond in my front yard. It occupies a part of a land shrine wherein I GUARANTEE fresh, clean, water will be available to the wildlife - no matter the season. It is cleaned regularly, and at great personal cost to my delicate sensibilities. People reasonably familiar with my blog/s will know that posts beginning with the phrase “I was up to my elbows in the muck” NEVER end well, unless you consider being repeatedly gifted with mysteriously dead amphibians that haunt your dreams about forbidden rituals to be a good thing.
Well… I was up to my elbows in the muck. A deep, black, sediment made of rotting leaves and the roots of water lilies. My fingers brushed something strange, it was soft, but… gristly as well. Sort of like a toad’s head.
"Not this again. Goddamnit, not this horse shit again I am NOT performing that goddamned ritual, or any fucking variation on it, again. NO. This has happened THREE TIMES now and I am not-"
And then searing pain shot up my finger, into my hand and flashed up my arm like lightening. I jerked my hand out of the fish pond, howling. I was expecting a snake, or some intensely poisonous fuckup of nature and the sticky end of my well-lived witchdom. Surely, this was it. I’d pissed off the powers that be, and the end was motherfucking nigh… so I looked toward the source of the pain…
And a tiny turtle dangled off of my fingertip.