"For heavens sake, have the due respect of a child and appear before me humbled", barked The Coven Mother.
Deity, pronounced as one would Aphrodite, was accustomed to browbeatings on the weekly and at times daily basis. She trembled in anger knowing the expectation was to hold her tongue but her being would not withstanding the beating, at least, that's what It told her so through her nervous disruption. She spoke the truth.
"If you had wings you wouldn't feel so disrespected by the mere sight of me, Mother." Coven Mother immediately rose to her feet.
"What on Earth did your audacity just utter child?" She points condemningly to Deity. "You're wings are a sign of unholiness, rebel, and you would not have them were it not for your tendency to wander to dark places unattended by your Governing Witch!"
"She doesn't feel a need for my governance Dear Mother. We worship and work with those who look like she", interjected her governess, Terra. The Coven Mother made note and sat slowly.
"Granted", added Coven Mother, "but you were instructed at the time of her infantile discovery that she should be kept away from such things and raised in only the ways and morality of The Light Craft."
"Which Terra has done unfailingly Love", added The Coven Father, a scarce contribution to such matters. He adored Deity, secretly. One of four wizards to a coven of one hundred, he fathered Deity despite his wife's belligerent approval of the coven's adopting her when she was found in the woods alone, unswaddled, undiapered, unfed and crying at three months old.
"Keep The Pact of Coven Peace and disguise your flight", The Coven Father added. Deity unbagged and put on her hooded cloak, then sits erect, staring fiercely at The Coven Mother. The Coven Mother would have saw it fit to change her name upon her adoption and would have done so in a Catholic fashion if “Deity” weren't tattooed on the nape of the infant's neck at the highest of her spinal cord. If it weren't for the fervent effortf of The Coven Father to honor It and The Pentagram, The Coven Mother would be administering weekly and some times daily lectures of respect and submission, concluding verdicts and sentencing to a Mary or Prudence or better yet, Agnes.
"So she has, pardon the accusation Governess", The Coven Mother continued, "But Terra, you know the child best,"
"I will be 18 this Summer Equinox", interrupted Deity.
"Silence Child!", yelled The Coven Father. He turned to his wife to finish the sentencing.
The verdict was ruled that Deity was guilty of unauthorized access and usage to and of magickal chambers, potions and utensils, which counted as charges of theft, totaling eight; five potions, one goat, a pocket knife and chalk. Deity began her silent treatment once informed that the charge for chalk was valid. And one charge of conspiracy, conjuring her angelic family of birth was forbidden.
"Again, Governess, you know the child best. Which punishment suits her?"
Deity assumed her original slouch in her chair and rolled her lowered head over to have her Governess in sight. The common courtesy of looking at the defendant during judgement was not returned. Deity supposed it didn't matter that sixteen of twenty four hours were spent under Terra’s supervision, when she wasn't instructing, because now, Terra won't bother to look her in the eye.
"The child hates my natural magic. Earth Magick is her least favorite and therefore her weakest subject. I recommend the brigs of the lower caverns. She'd struggle to escape for awhile. I estimate that we'd only have seventy hours between her imprisonment and her being trapped in a cavern wall. Then it's a death sentence Covern Mother. I am displeased with her trouble making but I dont want the child to die Mother", humbly adds Terra, finally looking at Deity.
"Nor do I", adds their Coven Father. Coven Mother sighs, discouraged with her options or lack thereof.
"My Lord, what are we to do with the child?", she asks her spouse of seventy five years. The Coven Father eyes the coven's prized possession, though it was unbeknownst to Deity. He sighs and twiddles his thumbs. With his chin to his chest he nods and then looks to Deity, “Ninety six hours in her personal chambers,"
"Ninety six hours?", yells Deity.
"Yes, deviant, ninety six hours", he says as a matter of fact, now rectifying his posture, "and now with no rations." Deity's confusion met with sensed betrayal made her stomach turn. Coven Father notices, "You're plump enough Child, you can afford it. Closing Off rituals every hour for the escape artist and visits by the Gremlin every twelve, since she must work so fervently. And the guilt of shaming fire and all that Is by absence at Beltane."
"Absence at Beltane? Lord Father, please", pleaded Deity, "My sisters wont let me forget it and who knows what fire will withhold from me for negligence."
"Good", he adds, "but, you can keep all that you've stolen. Practice in your chamber."
"I can't start a fire to offer a goat in my room and control it, Father. The chamber is too small."
"Figure it out Sorceress, and Happy Beltane", he quips.
Coven Mother is pleased enough by the sentence. "Then, Happy Beltane Child. Adjourned."
The Coven Father eyes the defendant sternly and finalizes emphatically. "Adjourned."
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