Hey. Hey, you. You. Psst. Yeah, you! C’mere a second. I got a story to tell ya. I promise it won’t take long.

Your eyes are pretty. Purple, hmm? That’s a color you don’t see very often. Interesting. You know, purple eyes are a sign of the Fae. You don’t believe in the Fae? Oh. Well, for you I have a special story. A story for you and your violet eyes.

A long time ago, like a really long time ago, like so long ago that I wasn’t even the merest inkling of a concept, a witch walked the earth. You roll your eyes? You can go, if you want. No? Okay. This witch, now. Her name was Alexandria, and she had the gift of Sight. So she could see beyond the exterior-- oh, there’s that eye roll again. Y’know, I’m not gonna keep you here if ya don’t wanna hear the story. What do you mean, not interesting? Cliche? Come on, kid, this is a story from way back when. She probably started the cliche.

As I was saying. She could see beyond the exterior, past the skin and flesh and bark and stone, and she could see a thing’s past. Its future? Weren’t you just complaining about cliches? No. She could see their pasts. But she never looked, ya understand? She closed her eyes. Went about her life blind. She didn’t like it. Every rock, tree, leaf she saw had a story. She hated knowing those stories.  

The kids in her hometown called her “hag”. She ignored them for years, up until they weren’t kids anymore. They started throwing things at her, rocks and garbage and mothers’ knitting needles. So she fought back. Who wouldn’t? The thing is, witches can’t kill. No, they can’t. I don’t care what your pastor said. And she wasn’t about to learn to fight like that. So she honed her only weapons: words.

Well, when you’re a witch, retaliation is frowned upon. The Council got together-- what do you mean, what Council? The High Council, the one the Fae gather to try-- you don’t believe in the Fae. Right. We’ll call it the High Coven, then, the one the witches form above all others. Well, they got together and watched her. Saw her words sink deep into the hearts of the men that harassed her. And after a while, they decided something had to be done, before her town did something first.

Hey, where’s your hand? I want to give you something. It’s just a statuette, see? There. There ya go. Hm? Oh, must have been static. Sorry. Didn’t mean to shock ya.

Now… ah, yes. The Coun-- Coven. They came for her at noon, found her in the town square flinging eloquent barbed sentences, surrounded by a mob. Got to her just before an arrow found its mark. When the air cleared, she was gone, and so were they, the Coven that is.

They took her through the Veil. Yeah, it’s a Fae thing. I know, but kid. You can’t tell Alexandria’s tale without at least some mention of the Fae. Through the Veil, and no mortal was meant to go there.

She died, of course. The Fae-lands aren’t meant for human minds. But the Coven wasn’t done with her. So her spirit lived, they made sure of that. Hey, you still got that statuette? Look at it. You see that twisted whorl in the wood? Put your finger on it. Oop-- static again? Sorry.

So her spirit, her soul, that stayed after she died. She was told that if she could complete a duty, she’d be freed. What duty? Spreading magic. Witch-magic, not sorcery. The kind of magic that connects you with the world around you, lets you persuade it rather than break it to your will. The thing is, once you make a contract with the Fae-- bear with me here, kid-- you can’t get out of it. This was a fairly benign one. They didn’t take her name, they didn’t take her will. Just said she could either wander forever in the Fae-lands, or spread magic in the mortal worlds. She pushed back at first, but after about a decade she stopped. Can’t resist Fae-magic.

So she worked for magic in this world. That wasn’t too hard, back when witches were common. But as soon as magic began fading, that was when her job became near-impossible. She had to keep at it, though. She made a bargain. And she’s still here, seeding magic in the world.

Hey, you know what the moon is tonight? That’s right, it’s full. Good that you know that. Keep that statuette. Go outside and look at the moon tonight. She’ll be there, if you know where to look.