Chapter 5

It took me 20 minutes to drive to where we were meeting up. Laurel Bay wasn't on any tourist map. It was at the end of a forgotten slip road, leading down a steep, tree-lined track that barely counted as paved. Most people wouldn't even notice it, but to me, it was a gateway. 

 

As the car descended, the air grew cooler, salt-laced and carrying the faint, earthy scent of damp soil and ancient trees. The last rays of the setting sun struggled to pierce the dense canopy, painting the leaves in shades of deep green and twilight blue.

The gravel parking lot beside the dunes was mostly empty, just a couple of cars I recognized, among them Sam’s battered old Subaru and Matt’s sensible Honda. I pulled a warm cardigan from the back seat, already feeling the shift within me. Grains of sand instantly invaded my sandals as I stepped out, the cool evening air kissing my skin.

I followed the faint, winding path through the whispering sea grass, the sound of the tide growing louder with each step. A flicker of firelight danced against the darkening horizon, a beacon in the gathering dusk. As I cleared the last dune, the full scene unfolded before me.

They were already there, a circle of familiar silhouettes gathered around a small, contained fire pit. Sam, her blond bob framing her sharp, observant face, leaned slightly into the conversation, her piercingly blue eyes fixed on Matt. Her posture was relaxed but coiled, a blend of practicality and style evident even in the dim light �" a dark, fitted jacket over practical trousers, allowing for ease of movement and quick decision-making. 

Matt, tall and lean, his meticulously styled raven hair catching the faint glint of the embers. His eyes, a piercing shade of black, seemed to absorb the twilight, while his olive complexion, usually kissed by the sun, was now highlighted by the starkness of the firelight against his sharply defined features. 

Around them, the others in the coven talking amongst themselves. Trixie, directly opposite Sam, adjusted a small, intricately braided charm in her wild, untamed cascade of auburn hair. Her green eyes, usually bright with mischief, held a rare stillness as she watched the flames, as if seeking answers within their shifting forms.

Beside her, Kiernan ran a hand through his perpetually messy mop of dark brown hair, which often fell into his striking, deep hazel eyes. His slightly awkward, lanky build seemed to absorb the quiet tension, making him appear more grounded than usual. He shifted, a soft sigh escaping him.

Teo, whose perpetually rumpled look suggested he woke up five minutes ago, even if he didn't, was sprawled a little further back, his messy tangle of dark brown hair frequently falling into his striking dark green eyes. He was whittling a small piece of wood, the delicate shavings falling into the dust, his movements surprisingly precise for his overall air of disarray.

Wynn, whose lean build was almost wiry, was hunched forward, elbows on his knees, his muted, dark brown hair falling over his deep blue eyes in a slightly unkempt manner. He rarely bothered to style it, but the intensity in his gaze was unmistakable, even as he stared into the heart of the fire.

Further around the circle, Katana sat with an almost predatory grace, her lean and agile form perfectly still. Her dark, straight hair, usually tied back in a practical, yet slightly messy, ponytail, now fell over one eye, highlighting the striking, intense hazel that seemed to shift between green and gold depending on the light. She was observing, always observing.

Farren, tall and lean at around 6'1", was leaning against a moss-covered boulder, his dark, shoulder-length hair often falling into his deep green eyes. His slim, angular face with sharp cheekbones was etched with a familiar thoughtfulness, and a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks seemed to catch the faint light, making them almost glow.

Suki, with her deceptive blend of ordinary and ethereal, had her dark, straight hair styled in a messy bun, but a subtle, almost imperceptible shimmer of purple or deep blue caught the light just right. Her striking hazel eyes were wide-set, reflecting the fire's dance with an unnerving clarity.

Neva, whose naturally wild, earthy beauty was always present, had her long, dark brown hair largely braided, though wisps and curls had escaped, framing her striking shade of moss green eyes. She was tracing patterns in the dirt with a twig, a quiet hum barely audible.

Thorm, standing at an average height with a lean, wiry build, presented a slightly different energy. His dark, unruly hair frequently fell into his piercing, stormy grey-blue eyes, which were often clouded with a perpetual broodiness. He wasn't participating in the conversation, but his presence was a heavy, watchful anchor.

And finally, Ina, directly across from Matt, her striking head of raven-black hair falling in waves past her shoulders, often escaping its usual practical braid with stray strands. Her deep, intense hazel eyes, flecked with gold, seemed to miss nothing, scanning each member of the coven in turn, her faint smattering of freckles across her nose darkening slightly as she frowned.

“Anna!” said Sam, glancing up and spotting me standing there, her voice a warm, low murmur above the rush of the waves.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said, shrugging off my weariness as I joined the circle. 

Matt offered a quiet smile. “It doesn't matter, all that matters is that you are here”. Trust Matt to draw attention to the fact that I had been absent from the last 2 circle meetings.

“Been working on your new assignment” Sam quipped, trying to draw attention from my recent absences.

“Yes, I went to see the clients today, it doesn’t look good. There is definitely something haunting that house I could sense their presence but they wouldn’t show themselves” I sighed “I just hope I can help, hauntings can be very tricky”

“We’re all here for you if you need anything” Kiernan said, I smiled at him. He has always been intensely loyal to me and the coven. 

I take my place between Matt and Sam, feeling the familiar hum of communal energy. Matt goes to stand up as though he was going to address the coven, I guess in my absence he had stepped into the role of High Priest, something I could not let continue. I place my hand on his arm to stop him and say “Matt, I would like to thank you for standing in for me these last few weeks, but it’s time for me to resume my duties as High Priestess”. I stand and face my coven “I want to apologise to you all, I have not been here for you as I should. I have let my grief take over, and you have all suffered because of it”

No one spoke, it was as if the world around us was holding its breath as well, I sure you would have heard a pin drop. Matt shuffled beside me, I could tell from his demeanour that he was not happy. I sighed, “I should never have pushed you all away. I am still working through my grief but it is clear to me now that by withdrawing, I was hurting all of you. I want you to know that this is the last thing I ever wanted to do and I hope you can all find it within you to forgive me”

I looked around the circle, meeting each set of eyes, some filled with apprehension and others with a hint of relief. “It was not just the grief of losing my parents,” I continued, my voice gaining strength, “but the circumstances in which I lost them, I am still struggling to understand why I survived and they did not, however I should never have let that blind me to my responsibilities to you.”

A low murmur rippled through the coven, a collective release of the pent-up tension. My eyes found Matt's again. His jaw was still tight, his shoulders hunched, but he held my gaze for a fraction longer before looking away. His silence was louder than any protest.

Finally, Katana cleared her throat. “Anna,” she began, “we understand grief can be consuming, but we have all missed you. I was starting to think you’d been abducted by space pirates” She paused as laughter filled the silence. I had missed her quick-wit. I smiled and waited for her to continue. “Though I think I can speak for everyone when I say we are all glad to have you  back, I think someone would have killed Matt if he had been in charge much longer.”

A wave of actual, genuine laughter swept through the circle of faces, most of them looking directly at Matt who, true to form, didn't crack a single smile. His gaze remained fixed on the floor. Katana’s playful barb was a familiar dance, a way she always cut through the thickest air, but the unspoken truth of Matt’s suffering tightened the knot in my stomach. He had borne the weight of my absence, the quiet, meticulous work of maintaining our protections and rituals, all while navigating the volatile currents of coven politics without their appointed leader. Me.

My smile wavered, replaced by a profound weariness that settled deep in my bones. “I’m sorry,” I murmured, my voice a rasp from disuse. It wasn't just an apology for my extended leave, but for the burden I’d dropped on him, on all of them. For the chasm my grief had carved between us. The grief still clung to me like a shroud.

Matt finally lifted his eyes, meeting mine across the space, and in their depths, I saw not just resentment, but a haunted weariness that mirrored my own. His jaw remained clenched, but the tension in his shoulders seemed to double. He didn’t need to say it. The silent accusation was clear: once again I had failed in his eyes.

“I don’t think there is anything to forgive, you were grieving the loss of both parents, I can’t imagine what that must be like. Yes you may not have handled your responsibilities as a High Priestess well, it just proves to us all your human.” A small, almost imperceptible smile touched Trixie’s lips, a smile of pure understanding. “We don’t need you to be perfect, and we are here for you when you're ready to talk” 

Her words struck me with the force of a physical blow, but not one of pain. It was a release, a sudden, overwhelming rush of relief that stole the air from my lungs. I met Trixie’s unwavering gaze, full not of pity, but of profound empathy.

Then, a murmur began. From Suki, a soft, "She's right, Anna." "Nothing to forgive," echoed Farren, his voice thick with emotion. "You're human," several others chimed in, growing louder, more confident. "We are here for you," a chorus swelled, "When you're ready to talk." "We love you, Anna" "You are not alone." "No forgiveness needed."

The voices rose and fell around the circle, a gentle wave of affirmation, a tide of pure, unconditional acceptance. It wasn't just Trixie; it was all of them. Every single member of her coven, the people whom I had abandoned, even Matt, though his eyes and demeanor said he was still not happy. But that was nothing new, he had made it perfectly clear he was ready to become the covens High Priest.

I don’t know why their reaction surprised me. These 12 people had made the difficult decision to return to this world with me after the loss of our coven. They could have chosen to move on to the next plane and joined the Goddess like so many members of our coven did. But they didn’t when they realised that I would be returning they didn’t hesitate to come with me, even knowing that we might not all be together to begin with. We are lucky to all be here together now, though there is one missing there should be 14 of us.

“Well now that, that's sorted shall we move on to the more fun section of the evening, where we put aside all other things except that we are a bunch of teenagers hanging out at the beach” said Trixie

“If there is nothing else that anyone wants to discuss, I just have a quick question then we can all relax and enjoy the rest of the evening” I responded. Tonight was definitely not a good night for casting magic, emotions were running too high. I looked around the group to see if anyone was going to raise any issue, Matt looked as though he was going to say something then just shook his head and said “what's your question?”. 

“Has anyone ever heard of people hanging out at an abandoned home on Westside Street? A wall of blank faces stared back at me. Heads shook slowly, eyes unfocused with confusion. They obviously had no idea what he was talking about. Then Trixie said “It’s not somewhere I’ve ever been, but some of the kids at school used to talk about going there to drink. Is it important?

“Probably not, it’s where my clients live, the kitchen was burnt down last year and I’m trying to speak to everyone who has been in the house who may have come into contact with the entity, but I doubt a group of drunk kids will have much to add. 

“I remember people talking about the fire, I think that's when people stopped going there. It got too much attention from the police and fire department. Before that, though, it was a regular spot for the older high school crowd. Parties, dares, that kind of thing.”

No one else had anything else to add so the group broke up into smaller groups. It was nice to hear the everyday conversations going on. Neva seemed to have a new crush on a boy at school, I swear that girl had a different crush every week. Wynn and Thorm were discussing a new book Wynn had found in an old book shop in Murtellum the nearest City to Whitsite. I had missed this and for the first time since my parents death I felt calm and relaxed.

Matt stood, “I have some drinks in my car, I’ll go and get them.”

Sam sighed, “You know he’s madly in love with you, right?”

I watched Matt as he walked away, a familiar ache settling in my chest. “I know, but he’s not the one, he’s not my soulmate and I just don’t feel the same way and deep down he knows that.”

“Maybe he does,” Sam replied, her eyes tracking Matt’s figure until he was out of site. “But he’s led by his heart, he always has been, and when it comes to you he’s never made a good decision and it never ends well.”

I sighed. Sam was right; this was not the first life where Matt had developed feelings for me. Me, Sam, Matt, and Galen �" when I find him �" and the others have lived many lives together. Witches, unlike humans, have the option of returning to the world when they die or moving on and joining Gaia in the next life. We have always chosen to return together, and I know I’ll find Galen eventually; I just have to be patient.

“I’d talk to him but it never helps. I don’t know what to do, Sam. He’s one of my best friends and I don’t want to lose him, but I can’t give him what he wants.”

“I think he feels that if he can get you to fall in love with him then even once we have found Galen you’ll stay with him. Crazy, I know. You’ve loved Galen since the beginning and have never shown any interest in him, but he just can’t seem to let go,” Sam said, her voice softening with pity for Matt.

“It’s not that I don’t love him, I do, I’m just not in love with him and I never will be. I cannot make him my High Priest knowing that Galen is out there somewhere.” The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of our shared destinies. To choose a High Priest was to choose a lifelong magical and personal anchor, the one who would stand beside me as the High Priestess, leading our coven, sharing our power, our every breath. It was a bond deeper than any human marriage. It was the intertwining of souls, and my soul was already woven with Galen’s, even if he was lost to me in this particular life.

“I know” Sam replied, “After everything Ben put you though he decided to give you some space, but I think his patience is wearing thin. I know it doesn’t make a difference but you need to talk to him, to try and clear the air.”

We sat in silence for a moment, the warm afternoon sun doing little to dispel the chill of my dilemma. I remembered a life in the Palingenesis Era, where Matt, then a master tailor, had showered me with silks and jewels, convinced that material wealth would win my heart. Another time, in the Eremes Era he’d fought off bandits who threatened our traveling wagon, believing heroism would do the trick. Each time, his devotion was unwavering, his heartbreak inevitable. He was a constant, a loyal shadow, but never the light.

A car door slammed, and Matt’s footsteps crunched on the gravel path. He reappeared, juggling a cooler and a bag of chips, a bright, hopeful smile on his face. When his eyes met mine, that smile deepened, and for a fleeting moment, I saw the yearning, the belief that maybe, just maybe, this life would be different.

“Got the good stuff!” he announced, setting the cooler down with a thud and popping it open. He offered me sparkling water, as I took it, our fingers brushing. A familiar static electricity, a friendly warmth, but nothing like the exhilarating jolt I felt when Galen and I had united in previous lives. Those were like thunder striking, the world shifting on its axis. With Matt, it was just… comfortable.

“Thanks, Matt,” I said, trying to infuse my voice with genuine warmth, careful not to offer more than friendship.

He just grinned, already pouring a ginger beer for Sam. “Anything for you, Anna.” My name, a whispered reverence when he said it.

Sam caught my eye over the rim of her glass, a silent message passing between us: See? He just doesn’t get it. Or maybe, he does get it, and he just refuses to accept it.

How many more lives would we live through this cycle? How many times would Matt offer his boundless heart, only to have it gently, painstakingly, broken by my unyielding loyalty to a man I hadn't even found yet? My search for Galen wasn't just about finding my soulmate; it was about breaking this perpetual, painful loop for Matt. Only then, I knew, could he truly move on, and perhaps, find his own soulmate. The thought gnawed at me. I loved him, truly, as a brother, a friend, a steadfast companion through the eons. But love wasn't always enough. And for Matt, it was never the right kind of love.

I sighed “Matt lets take a walk, we need to talk”

“Ok” he replied “what do you want to talk about?”

We walked away from the coven, leaving the flickering glow of the fire behind us. The salt tang cut through the humid night air, and the rhythmic whisper of the waves crashing onto the shore provided a melancholic soundtrack. I took a moment, watching the distant shimmer of the moon on the water, to gather my thoughts. My chest felt tight, a knot of dread forming just beneath my ribs.

“I want to thank you,” I began, choosing my words carefully, “for looking after the coven these last few weeks. It’s been a relief to know you were there for them, for everyone, while I…” I trailed off.

He shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn denims. “No worries, Anna. You know I’m happy to help. We’re family.”

“Yes,” I said, turning to face him, the vast expanse of the ocean stretching out beyond his shoulder. “And I am very grateful, truly. You’ve been a rock for us all. But I need you to understand something, Matt.” The words felt heavy on my tongue, each one a stone dropping into the quiet. “I cannot make you my High Priest.”

He flinched, almost imperceptibly, but his gaze remained fixed on the horizon, not meeting mine. A shadow passed over his face, quick as a cloud.

“I already have a High Priest - Galen,” I continued, my voice softening as I spoke Galen’s name. He’s out there. I will find him, Matt. And when I do, he will take his rightful place at my side. He’s… he’s my anchor. My balance. My other half.” The last words were almost a whisper, a silent plea for him to understand the depth of that bond.

I watched his profile, the strong line of his jaw, the slight tension in his shoulders. He’d held them together, managed the rituals, soothed the fears, all with a quiet strength that had truly impressed me. He embodied everything a High Priest should be, save for one crucial, impossible detail he wasn’t Galen.

“I don’t want to hurt you or lead you on,” I pressed on, my voice laced with the sincerity of my fear. “And I don’t want to lose you, Matt. You’re one of my best friends. One of my oldest. I rely on you.”

He finally turned, his eyes, usually so warm and full of unspoken things, were flat. He gave a short, bitter laugh, just a puff of air really.

“Always the best friend,” Matt replied. His voice was low, devoid of its usual warmth, and the quiet hurt that resonated in those words was like a physical blow.

A pang of guilt sliced through me. I knew what he wanted, what he’d dreamed of, perhaps for years. He’d dedicated himself to the coven, to me. After Ben he’d seen an opening, a chance to step into a role that was rightfully his in his heart, and I had just irrevocably closed that door.

“And I truly mean that, Matt. More than you know,” I offered, reaching out a hand, but he took a small step back, widening the gap between us.

The only sound then was the ocean, a relentless reminder that some things, like the tide, were unchangeable. The space between us felt wider than the ocean itself. We walked on in silence, the unspoken words heavier than any conversation. I had given him the truth, but I had also, inevitably, broken his heart. And the worst part was, I knew he would still stand by me, always the best friend.

“We should probably head back to the others,” Matt said, turning back the way we had come, his voice steady despite the seismic shift I’d just caused in his world. “It’s getting late and from what Sam has been telling me about your new assignment you're going to need to be at full strength.”

I sighed. My shoulders slumped, not just from the exhaustion, but from the weight of Matt’s unwavering kindness. “I think you're right, whatever is in that house is strong and angry. I think it’s the ghost of a 14-year-old girl who took her life after her family was killed in a car accident, but she’s been in that house for years, I have no idea if she has any humanity left.”

Matt stepped closer, his hand hovering, then dropping, a familiar gesture of comfort aborted mid-air. “That sounds tough, but you’ll find a way you always do and if you need me I’m here for you no matter what.”

Each word was a fresh stab of guilt. I looked at Matt, truly looked at him, his face etched with a quiet, profound hurt that he was trying so hard to hide. I’d just broken his heart and dashed his dreams. And still, he was offering to help me, to be my rock. My stomach twisted with a bitter self-reproach. I felt like a monster, a user.

“I might not be able to make you love me Anna,” he said, his voice a low rumble, devoid of accusation, but filled with an aching sorrow. “But I can still hope that maybe one day you’ll change your mind.” He didn’t wait for a reply, didn't give me the chance to offer another hollow apology or a platitude I didn't mean. He simply turned and walked back to the rest of the group. The set of his shoulders was a little too rigid, his walk a fraction too fast.

Sam came over and stood by me, her presence a warm, steady anchor. She didn’t speak, just waited, her hand settling gently on my shoulder.

“How did it go?” she asked, her voice soft, barely a whisper.

My breath hitched. “Terrible,” I replied, the word a raw rasp in my throat.“Goddess, Sam. I know he needed to hear it, but I think I’ve really broken him this time. And yet he’s forgiven me already. Can you believe that?” My voice cracked on the last word. “And what’s worse is that I need his help on this assignment. I’m going to need you both.”

Sam sighed, a long, sympathetic sound, pulling one of my hands into hers. Her touch was grounding. “Tell me what you told him, Anna.”

“Everything,” I mumbled, turning my face away. “That I don’t feel the same way he does, that I can’t make him my High Priest. That I;m never going to give up on finding Galen.”

The words, though necessary, felt like shards of glass in my mouth. I’d seen the light drain from his eyes, the way his shoulders had slumped, the small, almost imperceptible tremor in his hand as he’d reached out for mine, only to drop it an instant later.

“He didn’t get angry or yell or anything, he just listened to what I had to say, then told me he’d always be there for me, no matter what.. Like nothing had happened, like I hadn’t just ripped the rug out from under him.”

I finally looked at Sam, my eyes pleading for an answer she couldn't give. “There is a part of me that wishes he would just walk away, Sam. That he’d get angry, or resentful, or just… leave. Why does he stay? Why does he always stay?”

Sam squeezed my hand. “Because he loves you, Anna. Unconditionally. And maybe,” she paused, searching for the right words, “maybe he needs you to push him away for him to finally find his own way. But that doesn’t make it any less painful for either of you.”

“I don’t deserve his love or his loyalty, I really hope this is the life he finds his soulmate and the cycle gets broken,” I say, taking a deep breath, gaining control over my emotions. My voice is steady, a practiced trick. Sam’s hand squeezes my arm, a silent acknowledgement of the turmoil I’m trying to quell. My coven needs me to be strong right now, to be the unwavering leader they look to. So I smile, a little too brightly perhaps, and together Sam and I rejoin the group gathered around the crackling hearth in the common room.

The rest of the night passes quickly, filled with conversation and laughter. Teo recounts a hilarious incident with a misfired glamour charm, Ina demonstrates an intricate knot-work spell that shimmers with protective energy, and even stoic Farren offers a rare, booming laugh at something Sam says. I contribute, I truly do. I listen, I offer advice, I share my own tales, and my laughter rings out with theirs. But as much as I try to hide it, they all know I’m not okay. I see the lingering glances from Neva, the way Kiernan’s gaze softens when he thinks I’m not looking, the subtle shift in Sam’s posture, always just a little closer, a little more vigilant. There is nothing they can do to help. This kind of pain, the kind that eats at your core, is a solitary burden.

I couldn’t save my parents. Then there was Matt, I couldn’t spare him the pain of the truth, that I didn’t feel the same way he did. Matt’s quiet suffering was a testament to my inability to protect those I loved from the very nature of my existence. I was in a storm, and everyone around me got caught in the rain.

I looked around at the faces of my coven. They trusted me, believed in me, followed me. I would protect them fiercely, with every fiber of my being. But the personal toll, the unworthiness, the knowledge of what they had done when they brought be back, that was mine alone to carry. As the night deepened and the conversations began to wind down, I offered a final, tired smile. They couldn’t save me, but I could be strong, for them. I had to be.