Once we were the healers of our villages. We made potions and salves and took away peoples pains and ills. From miles around they would come, their faces full of hurt and anguish would slowly relax as we treated them and be replaced with smiles and kind words.
We lived away from Humanity, away from the villages and towns. The woods and forests were our homes. Our ties with Mother Nature were strong and we enjoyed the peace and tranquillity within her bosom.
In secret gardens we would cultivate the flowers and herbs needed for our craft. Through minor magic’s we would maintain these special places all year round so that we would never fall foul of the changing seasons. The secrets of our hidden lore were passed down from parent to child through our bloodlines, a legacy of knowledge and power used for the good of those we cared for and watched over.
But times change, Peoples fear and mistrust of our abilities grew. They began to believe we were the cause of many of the illnesses and diseases that took their loved ones. We were blamed for the accidents and the bad luck that struck our communities.
Smiles and acceptance began to turn to hatred and scorn. The name healer disappeared and was replaced by the term ‘witch’.
We were forced from our homes with threats and fire; we turned to Mother Nature to protect us, hiding away in the dark and deep parts of the woods and forests. Our precious gardens were found and destroyed, the soil sown with salt so that nothing would ever grow again.
In desperation we sought others of our kind. We banded together and huddled in fear and self-pity. Our world crumbling around us we fell to despair and looked to our lore for answers.
We found none.
Gathering together those who remained we decided that there was no place left for us in this world. With tears and heartbreak we took sharpened blades and spilled our lifeblood to the earth calling out to the darkness in our woe.
Something answered back. Our wounds closed though the scars remained. A figure formed of our lifeblood appeared before us. With whispered words She soothed our pain, imparting dark knowledge of blood and ritual.
In that moment we were reborn. The All Mother had heard our death call. We became Her children, those who lived in harmony with nature always minding the balance.
Humanity in its greed and avarice had begun to rape the lands. The places of green and beauty were shrinking as machines of metal and smoke destroyed Her blessed realms.
She could no longer allow this to happen. Through Humanities own children we would grow in number. Those unworthy would be blended with animal and creature, our healing arts conjoining their flesh and bone to make powerful allies and guardians.
Once again people would learn to fear those dark places in the woods and forests and soon we would take back all the lands we had lost.