The 1340’s is where it all began. The birth of a new generation and the birth of Death itself. The bubonic plague had many names like God himself. Except this one killed many of its people, spreading like wildfire and killing everything in its path. Some say there were those immune to it all. The ones they called witches. Or the ones who started it.

 A family with nothing little more than an herb shop and a heavy mother carrying her first born. A working father growing fresh fruit and vegetables to earn a little extra money for his new hungry mouth. They were the kindest people that anyone has ever known. But a stormy night hit. Crashes of lightning and the loud roar of thunder hit the family and the entire European nation right off their feet. A new heart has entered the world and brought happiness to the couple. But what went on outside brought death to another.

 The next day people came to the shop carrying the disease. What disease you may ask? The one called Black Death. Where your skin turns black and your eyes yellow and your hands in bumps full of puss. They begged the couple to help cure them. But unfortunately they could not help them without using magic. They could not get caught.

 The villagers were angered by this as more died each day. Soon the couple was pointed out by the villagers. They were not sick yet. The villagers started to think and the best they could come up with was that they were witches. So even the church knew the couple were being discreet. They locked them away along with their daughter Marabeth. The couple was now ssd. They wouldn't be able to watch their daughter grow up knowing the villagers wouldn't kill the child.

They had many sleepless nights while the villagers prayed for their land to heal once they offered God a sacrifice. But the Black Death stopped for no man.  The day finally came for the sad couple to leave their child behind and move on to another world. The villagers shouted as they held pitchforks and torches. They dammed the couple to death and hell.

They took their child and just laid her on the ground. No one wanted her as they were too occupied with chaining and tying the mother and father to stakes in the middle of the firewood.

  They did not struggle nor did they fight. They whispered their “ I love you” and sweet poems to each other. Then they prayed someone would look after their child and that she learned her place in the world.

  Soon the fire was lit and the couple screamed and shouted in pain. Their daughter cried and wailed from the lack of touch from her mother and the silly faces from her father even though little Marabeth didn't know what was happening.

  Soon the light shined upon the black burned flakey bodies of the once happy couple.

  A woman in a milk maid apron and dress with brown straight hair and a basket was indeed the sister of the child's mother. She picked up the child and took her to her home.

And from that day on Marabeth grew into a beautiful young maiden. She learned her magic and hid it well. Marabeth knew of her parents misfortune but was not sad. Instead she just mourned her loss.

Now onto her story.