Chapter Text
Things changed.
A decade had passed, and witches were no longer forced to serve; in fact, many were never given the chance to train at all even if they wished to do so.
After the defeat of the Spree and the Camarilla, things calmed down and there was a movement of societal change. Civilians stood hand in hand with witches in the streets, campaigning alongside them for their freedom from government-sanctioned conscription.
It meant that witches now held their own branch of the military, under no forced government power as was previously declared by the old Salem Accords.
Small groups of Spree still popped up here and there, but it was nothing of concern. Usually, they were swiftly dealt with before the branch could blossom into anything threatening.
Not until The Awakening, as it had been dubbed.
When an odd seed rose in the hall of a concert, every person in the audience simply ceased breathing.
That was the first magical attack of impact since before. Witches and civilians globally held their breath as a cryptic video of a masked person was released; their robotic voice notifying the world that the Spree had returned.
Since that day five months ago the Spree attacks had been relentless, and their membership had grown substantially.
With an emergency state declared, and the alarm sounded, witches globally received the call once more. This time the call was not conscription under the government, but a conscription that would be under the control of witchkind; only there to service the war with witches and those who wished them harm.
As much as Sarah Alder hated returning to old ways, there was little choice. The deaths of civilians were turning them against all witches once more, and the deaths of witches were growing as the Spree’s attacks became more pointed.
There was an intention, a plan, though Sarah had yet to figure out what it was.
Leah
Leah Rilke sat on the floor of a long-since obsolete bathroom on the far side of the matrifocal compound. No one would think to look for her here, nor would they see the amber glow of the medal as it unfurled in the sky before her face. Ribbons of red, white, and blue dangled below it as the light burnt her eyes.
It was the call; one she had thought she would never receive.
Tentatively she reached a hand out, letting her fingers trace the hot metal that floated there. They grazed over the lettering as a mixture of fear and excitement swirled in her stomach.
Part of her wondered if any other girls from the compound were sitting doing the same as her at that moment; hiding away as they signed their lives off to the people they were taught to hate. The people they were lucky enough to have the pleasure of ignoring should they choose.
Whilst Leah understood the hate, she knew her presence was needed before The Spree came for her own. She was twenty-one now, but she was old enough that she still harboured memories of before. Granted, younger witches' recollections may be clouded by a world far calmer than she was raised in, but Leah had seen the other side of the coin. The gritty and terrifying sharp edge to it.
“I, Leah Rilke…” Her voice came out unsteady as her hands shook at her sides. “Do solemnly pledge to protect and defend the United States of America against all enemies, foreign or domestic. I will faithfully serve and obey the rules and articles for the governing body of the Witch Army of the United States, all secrets keep, all lawful commands willingly performed as dictated by the Amended Salem Accord.”
As she spoke the ribbon on the medal dropped and it sparked like a Catherine wheel; violently shooting embers in all directions until the final word silenced its hiss.
The medal dropped into her palm; it was more weighted than she had suspected. The pentagram army symbol sat engraved into the front; a reminder of her mothers ones that sat on the mantle when she was young.
If she closed her eyes, she could still remember the base. Leah could still recall Sarah and Tally holding her as a child, or their jokes in Mothertongue. She could still remember holidays with them and the smell of Tally’s cooking.
They had always been there for her, especially after she lost her biological mother at the age of three… at least they were up until she turned twelve.
When Leah turned twelve, there came a day when Tally didn’t wake her up. Instead, she was met by a very glum-looking Anacostia, her much older sister, who helped her retrieve her things.
“You will like the matrifocal compound,” she promised with glossy eyes. “One of the sisters your mother served with can’t wait to meet you.”
At three she had lost the biological mother she scarcely knew. Then at twelve, she had been torn away from her two other mothers whom Leah loved as her family.
When she returned to the hall of the compound, Sofia met her gaze hesitantly. “You spoke the words, didn’t you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Sofia soothed, bringing Leah close as she combed a hand through her hair. “Your mother was not meant to serve either being the last in her family before she gave birth to you. Maryann clearly passed down the genes of defiance. I wish you hadn’t, but I expected nothing less.”
The truth was that Leah never felt at home here. She loved caring for the young but hated that she was here to either survive alone or repopulate. That was all that was asked of her here.
The women in the matrifocal compounds were granted a dispensation; it was a means of ensuring family lines were safe. Men weren’t allowed on the premises but occasionally adults on the compound would leave to find someone to extend their line only to return pregnant days later. Leah felt like she was placed there only to give birth or to survive.
She hated that here use of Work wasn’t encouraged and that the only time she found to take her scourge out of hiding was in the dark of night when she could practice on trees in the forest.
Being a mother wasn’t for her. A family wasn’t something she even wished for.
After meeting Jeffrey Galanis, a non-witch who would come to the compound once a month to distribute books, Leah didn’t wish to go within a hundred feet of a lover ever again.
It was perplexing; witches seemed to speak so highly of the power derived from sex, but Leah had never felt more powerless than when she had lain with him.
“Let's get you packed.”
The base was different in many ways when she arrived. The trees still stood tall around the perimeter, but now new saplings had begun to sprout on either side of the path she walked down. The buildings hadn’t changed, but the slight blue sheen around the perimeter had.
Leah remembered it as a soft lilac before and now it was electric. The sheen felt intimidating, leaving Leah’s hand snapping back before she could touch a crack in it.
As they sat in the hall, Leah held her breath. Her mother, Sarah Alder, looked as young as ever as did Tally Craven. Though there were slight lines under her eyes now, easily missed unless Leah focussed on them.
“Things are different this year,” Sarah began. “You may look to your left and see someone who is eighteen. You may look to your right and see someone who is twenty-eight. For a decade now, joining has not been mandatory. We have been actively refusing people's offers to attend the call because we no longer needed the heads here. Unfortunately, times change and the call is now mandatory once more for those who were not granted dispensation.” Alder paced the stage, the sound of her boots thudding through the hall like a heartbeat. “We will do our best to group you with others who are your age. But all of you will lack the same experience, old or young. And all of you have the same opportunity to be the best we have seen in this base. Work hard, for your sisters' lives are just as much to be protected as your own.”
Sarah moved to the side as her wife stepped forward. Tally Craven was an equally recognised name in witch households; even to those who weren’t raised by her. Her team had been the key to ending the Camarilla for good. And they had helped to tame The Spree down to controllable numbers.
Now Tally was in her late thirties. She was only three years younger than her biological mother. Leah always wondered if she served beside her. Tally had never mentioned it to her as a child, though she often talked of her.
It was bittersweet seeing them now; heads raised confidently on the stage as they spoke.
“I am General Craven,” she started. When their soul bond that was gifted by The Goddess was confirmed, Tally shared everything of Sarah’s. Including her title that she chose to reclaim after a year of rest. “Welcome to what will likely be the hardest years of your life.”
As Leah snorted at the idea this could somehow be worse than her life; Tally’s eyes darted to her. Instead of calling her out, she paused. Her body froze still on the stage as she looked at the familiar girl who was now years older.
Sarah’s hand rested on her shoulder as she whispered something in Tally’s ear and Leah had the feeling that every eye in the room was staring at her right now.
“You will be training, pushing your bodies past anything you could imagine. Your voice is a weapon, but it is also a muscle to be cared for. Overexertion of your voice through work is painful, but it also gives us soldiers who can push through on the field. You are here to make the many witches who came before you proud, and I’m sure you all will.” Sarah’s last words were directed at Leah.
"Again, this year you will rise or fall as units. That means how anyone in your unit performs in basic training reflects on how everyone in your unit performs in basic training,” Anacostia said. “You are a team, and you will be trained and judged as one.”
Other captains and colonels spoke afterwards. Neither Sarah nor Tally looked her way until Leah went to the front to collect her paperwork and assignments. “Thank you, Tally,” Leah said without thought.
“That’s General Craven to you, Cadet.”
Leah was shocked by the harshness of her voice. “Yes. Apologies General.”
A laugh sounded behind her, and Leah whirled to see a girl standing there with a perfect manicure and wearing a Gucci sweater. “Bitch, you’re holding up the line,” she said.
She bristled and raised a brow. “Good. Enjoy the wait,” she shot back, shoulder-checking her on the way out.
Name: Leah Anne Rilke
Assignment Room 14 A
Athena Coven
Coven Leader: Fallow
She inspected her schedule and groaned at the sheer amount of Mothertongue classes she would be taking each week. Leah already knew more Mothertongue than most of the elders on the grounds. Growing up, Sarah would decide some days that they would only communicate in Méníshè (Mothertongue, as it was better known.) By the time she was eight, she was more fluent than Tally.
For so long Leah had grown up calling them Mum and Ma after losing her own.
She had been utterly wrong to.
Grabbing her uniform and equipment duffle, Leah headed towards her coven’s dorm. They were based in one of the smaller buildings, on the second floor near the forest. It was remote; something Leah craved after being parted from the matrifocal compound.
When she opened the door, she gritted her teeth.
“You have got to be kidding me,” the girl who had called her a bitch only an hour prior said.
“Hey there! Aren't you a cute little… well actually you’re a pretty darn tall button,” a bubbly blonde said. She had a thick Texan accent and she pushed past the other girl to get to her.
Arms slung around her, and Leah’s eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t hug her back; instead, she stood there rigidly; unsure of what to do.
“I’m Shelby Goodkind. My Mama is a lieutenant colonel here. Goodkinds are known for our weatherwork. Kinda our thing.”
Well, she was… intense.
“You better get set up and all ready for the first bunk check. Remember a tidy bunk is a happy check!”
“Jesus, does the sun shine out of your ass when you bend over or is that the weatherwork your family is so renowned for?” The other girl scoffed. “I’m Fatin Jadmani, though I’m guessing you already know that.”
“Who?” Leah asked.
“Are you like not on socials or some shit? Five million followers? I did that series on Disney?”
Leah frowned. “What?”
Shelby however tilted her head and said, “Maybe she’s indie. My friend refused to get music on his phone and would only ever listen to vinyl. He had a flip phone from 2003.”
The memory of Jeff’s shitty phone made Leah pale. “Actually, I’ve lived on a matrifocal compound for the last ten years.”
“Matrifocal?” Fatin snorted. “Oh my god, are you a virgin? Don’t they hate men there?”
Leah threw her bag down on her bed and opened it up to take a book from it. “I’m going out.”
“Oh, don’t be like that,” Shelby said. “Why don’t we play twenty questions? Huh? It’s important we know one another well. My Mama always said our lives lay in our sisters’ palms.”
“These palms are awfully close to pushing peppy down the stairs,” Fatin muttered under her breath.
Leah, however, felt bad for her. Shelby was so overtly enthusiastic, and she had been roomed with two people who were the furthest from pep that one could get. “Fine. Twenty questions, then I need to go to the library.”
“It’s day one,” Fatin said. “We don’t get our reading lists for another week.”
“Doesn’t hurt to get ahead,” Leah said. That and she had grown up lingering in that library; the stacks had been her favourite place to hide away as a child.
They sat in a circle.
“Are you virgins?” Fatin asked, watching Leah.
Of course, that was all this girl cared about.
“No,” Shelby said, though her cheeks went pink. “Definitely not.”
Leah rolled her eyes. “No,” she said. Followed by her question, “What are your predicted strengths?”
“You know I’m from a long line of weatherworkers. We’re great whipping up tornadoes in my family.”
A low groan left Fatin.
“What about you?”
“A fixer,” Fatin said. “Which means you’re… what?”
“I don’t know,” Leah said plainly. “Everyone in my family was gifted in different areas. I have no skill predictions and we weren’t allowed to explore our talents in the compound. The Work we used was regulated.”
“Well, let's hope you’re good at something,” Shelby said. “Can't have any weakness dragging us down.”
“I thought you were a peppy ray of sunshine?” Fatin whistled. “That was brutal.”
Shelby’s smile waned before it returned in full force. If she smiled any wider, she would get a jawache. “As peppy as I am, it doesn’t change the fact that we are cadets now. We have a name to live up to, at least I do, and I fully intend on doing that.”
Leah was getting ready to stand when Shelby said, “What are y’alls families like?”
Both stiffened and looked away.
“Total bag of dicks,” Fatin said. “My dad is in property development, but my mum has been breathing down my neck about joining this place since I turned eighteen. I’m twenty-two now so that’s four years of her trying so far. She’s pretty high up here. All our female family members are serving but me. I think I’m the bane of her existence.”
“Oh, I’m twenty-two also,” Shelby said. “What about you…”
“Leah. I’m twenty-one.”
She stood and grabbed her jacket, ignoring Shelby’s, “What about your family?” as she left.