A Witch's Lament
There are those who disbelieve in the existence of Gods, Fairies, and many other known creatures besides. I've met a God, and many, many Fairies (though they hate the term, and prefer to be called The Fey). In fact, the Fairies had more than a passing influence on my upbringing.
I was born human, and to a family of humans. But when I was younger than I can remember, the Fey came for me, and took me from my parents. After that I was raised among them. Right up until my eighteenth birthday, when they expelled me from their secret and shadowy reality; out into the glaring world of man. A dysfunctionally complex and overpopulated place of seemingly never-ending noise, light, and movement, where everyone is perpetually busy trying not to have too much fun, or think too hard.
That was just over seven years ago. I just had my twenty-sixth birthday. Not that it was my real birthday; I don't know that one. When I was old enough to care, and was met with silence when asking the Fey, I gave myself a birthday. Less than a week of being twenty-six, and once again my world underwent a dramatic change.
I've already mentioned that I was raised by Fairies, and trust me: Grimm comes far closer to the truth than Disney. They didn't just raise me, though. They trained me in the art of witchcraft. They taught me to dance with magic, and pierce through the veils of reality with a keen mind and a fierce heart. The Fey weren't bad to me; they just weren't human. Not in body or mind. And when raising a child, it's that last one that matters. I grew up in a world of magical pranks, few boundaries, and a fundamental belief of independence. Needless to say, I don't get on well with most of my fellow humans. The whole mass of them seem deluded into thinking you can't be serious and have fun at the same time. As a result, they're either boorish automatons, or thoughtless assholes. If they could just learn to merge the two, it might balance out to give them a healthier society. More like the Fey.
Anyway, when I officially joined the "real" world, I was at a complete loss. It was like being shoved into a television; suddenly I was embedded within a world that I'd previously only witnessed. If not for three very special women I don't know if I ever would have found my way. I'd been on my own for a couple of months when Bethanie found me, learned of my past, and introduced me to her coven.
I was hesitant at first, but those three delightful woman were so kind, and so openly happy about my inclusion, that I kept putting off leaving their home. Besides, it wasn't like I was doing well on my own—I stood out like a sore thumb trying to understand this foreign world. Eventually I adapted, and a time came when I couldn't imagine wanting to leave this sanctuary of mine. On that day I become an official witch of the Black Cat Coven. On the paperwork there's a "#214" afterwards, but we, like every other coven with the same name, thought of ourselves as the only true Black Cats.