Her Powerful Witch Mate

Strange feelings

James

James had a lot of work to accomplish. His very old mentor, as he fondly called her, had given him a really short notice to go on this expedition. 

She had bluntly said that he could do some kind of a film on the wildlife in Myponga. He had a different opinion about the required efforts to make that happen.

It wasn’t easy to convince the Uni to let one of their paid resources go on a crazy movie-making trip. Their interests were clear. Either the film had to provide academic value by gathering accolades and recognition or it needed to be a research project funded publicly.

The screenies would always want it to be a commercial success to rake in the moolah. As much as he would hate it, he knew he might have to opt for crowdfunding as a last resort.

Myponga wasn't going to become a Baxter and Me. Not in a long shot. He would have to pull some strings and call in some favours to get his costs covered.

A lucky incident opened a backdoor for him. Was it really a coincidence or destiny? 

Someone happened to spot a wolf. He knew the AHRC would be interested in having him sniff around. The Aussie Film Commission could shovel in some of those funds his way.

Australia has never had a wolf population. There has been lots of research that shows that these creatures never walked these lands. No fossils, no bones, nothing was ever found.

Yet he was aware that werewolf clans have always been living in Australia, albeit hidden. These packs had both the aboriginal and the new dwellers.

He also knew that the bones or fossils couldn’t be found as they had a very interesting way of respecting their dead. And once the new werewolves arrived on the European ships, they joined the existing packs and followed their traditions.

The loners turned into rogues but the werewolf law of the land applied to them as well. They followed the traditions of this land. Traditions and the law were secretly followed and enforced.

Their tradition was simple. To burn their dead and collect the remnants in an earthen urn. Every year at solstices they sent out vessels into the sea from all major ports of Australia. These vessels carried the urns which would then be sent to the closest uninhabited islands. They were aplenty, off the Australian coast in any direction.

Each clan had special islands connected to them by the Dreamtime. This is where their dead were put to rest. 

These clans have a strong connection to these lands. They believe that the Moon Goddess walks on the lands where their ancestors rest.

Ever since the guy who was roughing it out in the forest reserve, reported spotting a wolf-like creature, there had been a surge in the number of campervans in the forest reserves around Adelaide. James used this as a chance to convince his university to go and film out there. 

He had used his influence and connections to get there within 2 weeks. It was one of the fastest approvals of applications, not to mention the Ethics Committee ones.

He had reached his camping ground on the 20th of Jan and set up his camper at the spot that Sarena had specified. He was happy to see that Sarena satisfied with his speed of work.

According to her, this was the place where his mother was found and during those days this place used to rest just outside a bustling village of witches. After Rianna’s death, it had become a ghost village and now the forest had taken over. 

It was a good place. A small clearing well concealed from the humans with the nearest campervan miles away and the closest village, almost 50 kilometres away.

Apart from the well-hidden ruins underneath the bushes, nobody could find any trace of that village. He suspected that it was magically cleared and the well-hidden ruins could only be seen by the creatures of fantasy. He noticed that it was the same spell that was used on the werewolf boats carrying the remnants of their dead.

The first evening he did his recce to pick all the places where he would place his cameras. He checked out the hollow of the tree his mum was found in.

There was no trace of a scared child ever hiding in that hollow. It tugged at his heart to know that his strong and beautiful mum was once a vulnerable child who feared for her life. 

He knew his mum had seen Rianna getting mauled by a werewolf. Those wretched creatures were so unstable, he thought angrily.

He was going to record a live feed, round the clock, so he could later go through it in the comfort of his own studio and have enough content to create his masterpiece.

He had come here for his personal agenda but he would never cheat his University. His job was as important for him as understanding his purpose in life.

Sarena & his parents had always maintained that he was destined for bigger things in life.

He rolled his eyes as he set up his work area thinking about the last dinner with his parents.

“Son, you are a special child. Not many could become witches like you. I would know, I tried hard when I wanted to impress your mom,” his dad looked flustered and embarrassed.

“Thanks, dad. You know I had help from the best,” James shrugged.

“I am happy with the way life turned out, with the way you turned out! Cheers to that,” he had raised his glass of whiskey and clanked it with James’ pint of beer.

He had seen his mum swell with pride and love for these two men in her life.

James was brooding. 

*** Alert! Prologue plays out until after the asterisk***

Australia, a land of equal opportunities, famous for responsible governance, a welcoming land that accepts people from all over the world.

His ancestors arrived on this land in the seventeen hundreds in a convict ship. Ironically, they were accused of witchcraft, he chuckled to himself as he set his cameras up in different areas in the woods around his camper.  

Some people from their ships tortured and destroyed the original dwellers of this beautiful land. Thankfully some people survived the onslaught. 

His kind helped the local dwellers; including the humans, werewolves, vampires and all other creatures who roamed on this land. His ancestors took notice of the local folklore and stories. They used the knowledge and strength of these stories to grow stronger.

Camped in a deserted forest land near Myponga where he had gone to solve the mystery of his lineage, he was sitting in his Merc camper van watching the feeds from the cameras outside. He was a filmmaker and a faculty for film and television courses at the Swinburne University in Melbourne.

His love for alternative cinema, his artistic vision and creative sensibilities had garnered him acclaims and awards from all over the world. 

He loved his work and he loved what he was. He was thankful to the moon God for his luck. His parents had been able to give him a decent life. 

They had suffered in their childhood, yet they had managed to keep him safe, given him love and education and made it possible for him to explore his identity. His rigorous physical, mental and spiritual training by his mentor had come to fruition when he received the intimation from the Keeper of the Orb. Now he was the most powerful witch in the entire continent.

His mother & his mentor both had insisted that he visits Myponga. His mentor had an epiphany that it was time to unravel his destiny. Finally, at 28 he was going to find out more about himself, he thought.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to get out of this sleepy little place but he knew that his guide never did anything without a reason and his mum was very perceptive to subtle changes in her environment. So he storyboarded for a doco, applied for the necessary licenses with the government, got his project approved by the University and now here he was! All alone in the forest!! But he did not feel lonely. He never felt lonely! 

He had the power of all the 5 elements. He could connect with his surroundings easily. His orb on the aconite kitchen counter snoozing. It was a family heirloom passed on to him by his mentor.

As he sat reading about the flora and fauna of the surrounding areas, planning for his newest artistic venture, his orb started to vibrate. He looked at it curiously. The only other time it had vibrated was 5 years back when he had accepted the allegiance to the 'Amenables'.

The vibrations increased and the orb began to glow with a silvery white light. The orb’s light was in stark contrast with the dim warm lights of his van. The twilight made its glow predominantly eerie. Suddenly he saw shadows move inside the globe.

He peered over it in excitement and was stunned to see a dark brown wolf, the darkest he had ever seen, with crystal grey eyes, look straight at him from the Orb. It was as if the animal was looking right into his soul.

He felt his heartbeats change their rhythm and a sharp piercing pain on his right flank, as if someone had branded him with something hot. He did not bother to look where the pain came from. He was mesmerised by the beauty of what he saw in the Orb. He knew he could stare at that enchanting face forever.

"Who is this buddy?" he said softly. The scene in the orb changed to a lightly wooded forest with a pack of wolves. He saw himself standing amongst the wolves as a gentle breeze teased his shoulder length, curly brown hair. He looked happy. 

"So the brown wolf is going to make me happy?" he asked and the orb gave a warm glow and went back to its silent, inert self.  

He knew about werewolves. All his kind knew about them. One of them had gone crazy and waged a war against the witches, killing most of them. He wanted to erase the entire witch population from Australia. The few who survived were trying to build their lives in secrecy, waiting for someone to save them.

He felt a slight tingling on his flank where he had just minutes before experienced burning. It felt like a cool piercing sensation now. He stood in front of the mirror and lowered the right side of his boxers. He was stunned to find the most beautiful brown wolf tattoo on his fair skin.

So this is what it feels like to connect with your soulmate! Now he only had to find her and seal their magical bond.

But what did the brown wolf mean? Was it metaphorical or literal? Why was he sent here? What did Myponga have in store for him?

With a thousand questions and a restless mind he went to bed and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

**********************************

The next day he woke up all tired and grumpy. He made his morning cuppa and let the heat and bitterness of the coffee wash away his grumpiness. As he sat on his reclining chair in the drive away awning, he tried to think of what had made him lose sleep.

He was not a light sleeper, yet his orb had done something last night which had stolen his sleep.

Those crystal grey eyes of the wolf had haunted him the entire night. He had weird dreams of wolves stealing spirits and he heard a lot of howling. Of vampires fighting alongside the werewolves with their ear-splitting, hair raising, signature sharp screeching.

He felt a shiver run down his spine. If that was to happen, the witches wouldn’t stand a freaking chance. Fighting the wolves and vampires separately was still thinkable but their joining forces would make them a formidable opponent!

The dreams were so realistic! He could still feel the overwhelming emotions from last night. The rejection, the hurt, the pain and then the actual pain, as if his body was being torn apart. 

He shook his head as if to shake off the thoughts. He couldn’t have been high. He just had one beer before going to bed. Must have been the stupid waxing crescent moon that was happily resting in Pisces.

It must have increased his sensitivity. No wonder he was extra perceptive. As he felt the insecurities and hurt from the night, he cursed and got up. He needed some air and exercise. That might help.

He changed into his running tees and shorts, put on his black trainers and set out for a jog into the forest.

He wasn’t scared. He knew he could handle anything that life threw at him. He was physically strong and a witch for goodness sakes. But he had to be careful when using magic in these parts.

If he got caught, the werewolves would tear him apart just like they did to his grandma and many more innocents. He wondered how they were able to do that. Witches have the power of magic! Then how did they know where to find them and how to make them vulnerable?

Still brooding, he moved through the forest. Sometimes jogging, sometimes only walking, whatever the terrain would allow. His ear pods played soft music from his iPhone 7 placed in his armband, as he trotted along the naturally mulched forest floor.

He knew he was making a lot of noise, but that was good. Any wild animal would run as far away from him as possible.

He stopped to look around himself. It was a mix of different trees and shrubs of different sizes. From tall eucalyptus trees to short emu bushes. He felt at home amongst this green life. 

He looked up and ran his hand over his neck trying to relax the stiffness from the sleepless night.

That's when the smell first hit him. It was very light and he couldn’t use any chants or spells to make it easy to pick up. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the element of Earth around him. Which its power he could pick up the smell better.

The smell was alluring as it became clearer. It felt like honey and wet green wilderness with wildflowers,  but it was mixed with something else. Blood?

He followed it into the denser part of the forest. All his instincts were screaming for him to ignore it and go back but a tiny little voice somewhere in his head asked him to keep moving towards it.

As he reached the densest part of the forest, he suddenly stumbled upon an unconscious naked woman with her back propped up against a tree. She was covered with bruises, cuts and bite marks. Mud sticking on her dried blood made her look grotesque.

Was she r***d? Was she dead? Who did this to her? His brain was pounding with innumerable questions. 

But there was something there that pulled at his heart. He felt a tremendous amount of pain and sadness. He felt like falling to his knees and letting out a cry.

Why was a strange half-dead woman making him feel this loss? The tiny little voice in his head asked,  surprised.

Beats me, he thought and ran towards the woman to check. She was still breathing, feebly. With the way her blood had dried up, she must have been here for a few hours.

He mentally kicked himself for sleeping through this. The woman surely must have shouted for help and he wasn't too far away.

In fact, he had one of his cameras overlooking this area. He would have a look at the feed later. But first, he needed to save this girl.

He picked her up bridal style. She did not protest. Her limp body in his arms again brought out the overwhelming feeling of loss and pain. He felt like crying. He actually felt a tear roll down his eye, but f*****g why?

***