The witch and her daughter broke off from their escort a day away from Salsola's borders. The boy... yes, Maelyx still thought of Inca as a boy... was a cad and a horndog, but he was still a good enough soul and had been a good enough hired hand to help the two women through the lands during their journey to a new life. Payment for his services had been simple enough – a love potion draught which she had caught him trying to use on her. Certainly the moment had been entertaining, but no, her own potion did not work on herself, so the lascivious man had been left wanting.
The gods had given her a sign, probably one of the strongest she had ever experienced, that told her that she had been following the wrong path. Her life with her one-time Anatheman family and the new coven she had formed was wrong. As a stark sign that she had displeased her deity, Maelyx had been captured and tortured, and had been left without sight. It was a strange thing, to be blinded like that, because her captor had done nothing to her eyes. Some weeks ago, the jackal discovered her sight began to return when she spent time away from the coven, but she would be plunged into darkness every time she went back home. Heeding this warning of the gods, Maelyx packed up her daughter, Jaketta, wrote a curt note, and left for a new land.
A land that was rumored to have its fair share of witches.
The two women had left the rocky terrain of Halcyon two hours past, and now stood in the open territory straddled by the mountains and Amherst. The land of Salsola stretched out large and looming before them. Before approaching the lands the women stopped for a rest and to straighten up their appearances. Now, Maelyx stood clutching her staff. At first she imagined she would wear one of her nicer dresses, but the travel they still had to do changed that. Instead she opted for a form-fitting pair of black slacks, and a purple corset style top – though she had removed the boning from this particular top long ago. Then she painted her face with ash, using it to make a pattern of dots and create a dark mask around her eyes. Her daughter did not have such a wardrobe yet, so Maelyx brushed her hair, and Jaketta affixed her golden scarab hair clip and her golden wrist bracers. The women were ready.
Just as she reached out to squeeze Jaketta's hand, a small cream colored creature slipped up next to them. It was a caracal, and he was Maelyx's oldest friend. The witch fretted for Nephelcheres, for she knew not what this pack's policy would be on such companions... still, the witch squared her shoulders, stood erect and proud, and let a call ring out to Salsola to announce their impromptu visit.
After her voice died down she turned to her daughter, a young girl of six months who had just begun to shapeshift. Be strong. Do not show fear, do not show weakness. They are a strong, proud people, and we belong here.
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