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Her mother wasn’t the warmest woman towards her, Edward was her star child, the gifted one. No matter what she accomplished, Edward would always be in the limelight. Her father wasn’t much around, his duties as High Priest of the Church of Night kept him at the Academy more often than not. She may not have had her parents’ approval, but she had Edward. Her older brother who loved her, who taught her magic, who played with her and comforted her when she needed it — which was not as often as someone would have imagined.
A few years later her new sister arrived, Hildegard, they had named her. Her baby sister wasn’t a sight for sore eyes, but her parents doted on her, just as they had done to Edward — not her, never her. Hildegard had blonde hair and brown eyes, Edward with his brown hair and brown eyes, herself with blonde hair and stormy green eyes.
Edward was nine and called their sister Hilda, he loved her also. Now, her brother also doted on their sister, and an uncomfortable pit had settled deep in her stomach, Edward was supposed to be hers, playing together was their thing, but apparently she had been replaced with her sister. She started avoiding her sibling as much as she could, throwing herself in her young witchy studies. Many had called her a devoted student, had praised her for it even, never her parents. So she reveled in the praises and made studying her own thing.
At age twelve, she had understood that the pit in her stomach was green and had a name, jealousy. She felt jealous that her siblings were paid attention by their parents, she felt jealous that her brother had taken their time spent together to give it to Hilda. Nevertheless, she could not help but love her sister. Her baby sister who at nine years of age trailed after her, calling her “Zelds, Zelds, would you have tea with me this afternoon?” Her timid voice breaking through the silence that always remained around her elder sister, Edward had once explained that her sister had learnt a spell so that everything around her was silent.
“Not now, Hilda.” Came the cold reply, but Hilda still took as something, as most times Zelda would simply ignore her presence, and the presence of anyone around her that was not their brother. How she longed to have a relationship with her sister. So, Hilda retreated and left her sister to read her books and practice her spells in peace.
At age fourteen, Zelda learned that loving someone meant getting hurt. When Edward turned sixteen, he had his Dark Baptism; she knew her brother’s thrill at the mere thought of learning at the Academy of Unseen Arts, yet the pit in her stomach grew and settled deeper when her loved brother left. Zelda did not have the peace of seeing him in their home every day, he would not come into her (their, since Hilda was old enough to share a room with her sister) room to ask what she was learning, he would no longer find her in the garden and teach her something new. Now, she would rarely see her brother.
Two years passed like a blur, her body turning petite yet strong, her pale skin smooth and unflawed. She had retreated further into herself, displaying a shell of distance and aloofness, something she had learned from her parents. The time for her Dark Baptism had finally arrived and she would pledge her loyalty to the Dark Lord and thus lend her service to him. When she sighed her name in His book, her fair skin had turned even paler, her once blonde hair had turned fiery, an occurrence that rarely happened. She would attend the Academy of Unseen Arts and thrive as a witch — she would finally see her brother once more, yet she was leaving Hilda alone. In those two years, Hilda had turned into a sort of companion, she would often find Zelda sitting alone as she would normally be, and take place beside her, leaving enough space between them so as not to bother her sister. At first, Zelda had found it annoying, when questioned, Hilda had admitted that she wanted to be close to her, even if it was in silence, and Zelda appreciated her for it. They had started to develop this odd habit of drinking tea together, little to no words exchanged, and at night, each would go to their own bed and settle down, grab their respective books and read. Hilda had taken a liking to human literature, turning to romance writings of shepherds and their forbidden love for cultured dames, Zelda’s reading had not deviated from her studies — she was far more advanced than anyone her age.
The time came for her to leave her home, the goodbyes. Her mother had given her a hug and a kiss on the hair, an action that seemed foreign to her, her father had patted her shoulder and bid her farewell, her sister had come running and trampled her over, throwing her body at Zelda’s in an hug, her soft eyes filled with tears.
‘Weak,’ Zelda thought upon laying eyes no her sister’s appearance, but something in her trembled and she encircled her sister’s frame, squeezing her softly. At sixteen, Zelda learned that leaving and being left were similar types of pain.
Her time in the Academy changed Zelda, she rarely saw her brother, but on her own volition. She learned that she could not be weak, her devotion should be placed on the Dark Lord, and that her Earthly ties were distracting her from her duties in the dark arts. And so, the tradition of the Harrowing had been brought back, to sift through the new witches and only leave those strong enough to survive.
Her sister came, and Zelda had no hesitation in letting her sister be Harrowed, the sadistic part inside her told her that her sister deserved it. All her life, she had been babied, maybe the Harrowing would make her grow up, so she made sure that her sister suffered through the Harrowing, the worst of it being done by her own sister.
By the time Zelda had graduated, her father had passed away, she had not shown up at his burial, her brother had been appointed High Priest, and Zelda couldn’t help but be happy for him. In the meantime, she had become a great witch, many had whispered that she could surpass her brother, yet she found herself uncaring. She did not wan anything to do with being High Priest of the Church of the night, even if it was one of the greatest honors bestowed upon a warlock. She was a witch, a woman, and she would not be fit for the role. She had distanced herself from both her siblings, and sought her own life away from there. Away from her siblings, now mere remainders of pain. And so she had sailed the seas and travelled, lived her life in different places and grew. She grew, had fun, tried to forget, but the pain lingered. The time came when her mother died, and she did not attend her funeral. The pain lingered, and trailed after her like a shadow.
No word to her siblings, she disguised her signature so Edward could not find her, and either she had succeeded, or he had not tried to find her. Both options made her sad.
She would follow the path of midwifery.
Centuries later, the time came when her brother starting consorting with mortals, Diana was her name. She was mortal and Zelda hated her for it. Witches as warlocks were not to consort with humans, yet her brother, the High Priest had fallen in love with a woman. Edward had sent a letter in hopes that it would reach her, and it did. He asked for her to come back, to meet Diana, to be with their family. See him, see Hilda, see that human pest that her brother insisted on dating. She had made up her mind, she would visit her family and set them on the right path, set him on the path of the night.
And so she teleported herself to the front of the Spellman house, just a few steps away from the front entrance. If was as it had been centuries ago, the house remained the same, the Cain Pit remained untouched on the most part, but someone was growing vegetables of various kinds in it, and she sneered at her sister’s doing. Of course, it could only be her sister. Edward appeared on the front door, he saw her and stopped in his tracks, his expression that of a deer caught in headlights. He reacted when she started making her way to the door, he clambered down the small set of stairs, two at a time, and sprinted until they were standing across from each other.
He had aged, his face marred with fine expression lines, around his eyes, forehead, mouth…
Her name dropped off his lips like a whisper and he hugged her. Her posture remained rigid, but she sighed and closer her eyes, falling into her brother’s embrace, it had been so long. Much too long.
“I felt you when you teleported, your magic signature is strong, sister.”
She hummed in response, her eyes trained on the figure by the door, Hilda. Her sister had cut her blonde hair into a bob, the ends curling slightly, she had grown into a woman and her body had changed into that of one, even if a little too fat to Zelda’s tastes. Her gaze focused on her brother’s figure, “We must talk.” She said, leavening no room for her brother to argue. Upon approaching the figure perched on the threshold, no more than a “sister" and a nod were exchanged. Zelda felt like some sort of string was pulling at her from the inside, but she ignored it, just as she had done for centuries.
It wasn’t long before Zelda left, they started talking, then arguing, the shouting. Her brother was losing reason, the commotion that his actions would cause upon the Church of Night, the scandal could tarnish the Spellman name forever. She had thought that maybe she could turn her brother to reason, that Hilda was going to back her up, see how this was not good for anyone. Yet none of that happened. Her brother had defended that he ‘loved’ the mortal, and Hilda had been useless to the cause, stating that she was happy their brother had fallen in love, not matter with who. Angry and beyond frustrated, she had said “But do not call me when your life is falling apart, and may the Dark Lord have mercy on you, brother.” And just like that, loving someone was painful.
In the blink of an eye, her brother was calling her once more, but when you’re a witch who’s lived for centuries, three years is no more than an ant in a whole plain of grass. He wanted her to know that he was marrying the human and they were expecting a child — Zelda’s heart soared and lodged itself in her throat, making it hard to emulate sounds or even breathe correctly. The letter fell from her trembling hands and she herself slid to the floor in despair, how could he do this? How could the Dark Lord allow this? In his letter, Edward had begged her to attend a ceremony between himself and the Dark Lord, to act as a witness to the pact formed between them. She could not deny her brother her presence in such matters, so begrudgingly she teleported herself once more to Greendale, her blank face landing on the blonde woman sitting on the porch, enjoying the warm night and twinkling stars, her hand massaging her belly and Hilda sitting next to her, they were both smiling. The green monster reared its ugly, but she pushed the feeling down, her cold façade never wavering as she walked those few stairs and came face to face with the two women.
“Wherever is Edward?” She asked, her voice cold and distant. The blonde woman stood up and offered her a smile, “You must be Zelda, I’m Diana.” She reeked of human, and Zelda could not help but be annoyed by her bubbly presence, “Yes, well, where is my brother? He made me come all the way here.”
“Sister,” came the voice of Edward from beyond the door, her gaze moved from the women to her brother, “Shall we go?” Once he said that, he leaned down to kiss Diana and bidding farewell to Hilda, promising to be back later.
“Are you alright, sister?” He asked as he walked with her down the few steps.
“I am alright, why do you ask?” Her voice hard.
Edward stopped walking and looked at his sister, she looked exactly the same, but something was different, her red tresses were long and curled, her stormy eyes were cold, detached, this was not the sister he remembered, then again, they had not acted like siblings since before he was inducted into the Academy. She had never been like Hilda, nor like their mother, she used to be a happy child, always smiling when they were together. He inwardly cursed himself, for abandoning their relationship, for leaving her. He had known how she felt about their parents, about their lives and everything else because at one time, he had been her confidant and they had been best friends.
“You just seem different, that’s all. Every time I see you it seems like the air turns dense. I can sense you when you’re teleporting from wherever you are until you arrive.” He said.
Zelda shrugged, her eyes did not move from her target, her feet light and steady on her high heels as they walked the patch towards the forest and said nothing.
“Why did you block me, sister? I have tried to find you for so many years, yet you would not allow me. Why?” He asked, his voice no more than a whisper towards the end.
Zelda blinked, sighed, her strut never faltering, ‘So he has been looking for me, yet he has not succeeded…’, “What reason did you have to find me, Edward? I’ve made my life, you and Hilda have made yours.”
“You are still our sister, Zelda. We have missed you.” Zelda scoffed but said nothing.
“Sister-” but he was interrupted by his sister, “I did not come here to be sentimental, Edward, what you are doing goes against everything that is unholy, I do not know what deal you have made with the Dark Lord, but this is not right!” She hissed. She was not a sentimental person, she did not come back to hear Edward’s bullshit. He had nothing to say, neither did she. Their conversation ended, just as it had done centuries ago.
The clearing was right in front of them, barely a few meter away and the oldest Spellman stopped, “I need to ask something of you, sister.” His voice had gone soft, his eyes were brown and calm, pleading her. She could never say no to him, unable to deny him, “What is it?” Her voice perhaps not as steely as she would have liked.
“Take care of her, your niece. Should something happen to me, you are her Night Mother.”
“Why me?” She asked, her voice slightly quivering. Her mind was reeling, was Edward expecting something to happen to him? The Dark Lord surely would not allow it, he was His Dark Priest after all. He turned to her, his hand landed on her shoulder, “Because you are the strongest one of us, if someone can keep her safe, it would be you, sister. Please, promise me.”
A small tear slid from the redhead’s right eye, and she immediately wiped it off with a single finger, careful not to ruin her mascara and eyeliner, “I promise, Edward. I will protect her with my life.”
He hugged her, one hand in her curls, “Thank you, sister.” Zelda took comfort in that hug, she put her own arms around him, she missed him. She missed her. She would not admit it out loud perhaps, but she had missed her sibling, her family. Loving them hurt.
“Come sister, the time has come, and the Dark Lord will make His presence known.” He said, letting her go. They walked to the middle of the clearing and waited for no more than twenty seconds, until the ground shook, the air turned heavy, Zelda could feel the power deep in her bones (was this was Edward meant when he said he could sense her?).
In a veil of night and heat the Dark Lord came, brother and sister bowed down, their eyes glued to the forest floor. He stomped with his hooves thrice, the ground underneath His presence shaking under His power, “Rise, my children.” His deep voice made Zelda tremble, not with fear, but excitement. Her heart beat faster, her blood pumping harder in her body. And stand they did, Zelda marveled at his appearance, he was tall, muscular, he had the torso of a well-sculpted human, goat’s legs and hooves on which he stood, his head belonged to a goat, horns so glorious that they looped. He was glorious.
“Come forth, my children of the night.”
Edward spoke, “Thank you, Dark Lord, for the opportunity you have given me.”
He took a step forward and extended his hand, the Book of the Beast appeared upon it. What were they going to do with the Book of the Beast? What was Edward’s intention? But she would not dare question her Dark Lord.
“Edward Spellman, will you honor our pact?” He asked, standing over her brother.
“I will, my Lord.” Edward said, serious.
The Dark Lord’s eyes focused on her, “Come forth, Zelda Spellman.” He said.
And she did, Zelda confidently walked her way to her Dark Lord, “You have turned into a powerful disciple, Zelda.”
Zelda’s cheeks flared up, Satan was praising her, “Thank you, my Lord.”
“Will you bear witness to the pact, sister?” He asked, his eyes bore down into her damaged soul and she nodded, “I will.”
He turned to her brother once more and opened the Book of the Beast, with one claw on His hand, He sliced Edward’s hand and gave him the object with which they had sighed the Book. Was Edward signing his name into His book again? What was the point? She should have asked Edward what they were doing before coming here.
She saw as Edward signed a name, ‘Sabrina Spellman’, Zelda’s eyes widened as she realized what was going on, he was signing his daughter’s name into His book, he was promising his unborn child to the Dark Lord. Why? What could possibly possess the man to do such thing? Yet she said no word, not while in His presence.
“The deal is sealed, Edward Spellman.” The Dark Lord turned to her, “We will see each other again, child. Sooner that you think.” And with that, the God disappeared. Zelda remained glued in her place, angry at her what her brother had done, horrified at what Satan had told her. What did He mean by that?
She turned to her brother, “What have you done? Why?” She asked, to promise a babe’s life to the Dark Lord, they did not even know if the babe was going to be a witch or a measly human.
Edward ran a hand though his face, “It was the only way He would allow Diana and I to get married. I had to do something.” She wanted to slap him, to scream at him, push him, instead all he got was: “I am disappointed in you, Edward. I would have hoped that you were the best of us. I see that I misplaced my faith in this family.”
“I always knew you were the best of us, Zelds. You still abandoned us.”
“It was for the best, maybe one day you will come to see that.” And with that, she turned around and started walking back. He caught up with her, “Are you finally coming home?” He asked.
“I will not, I will ensure that you’ve arrived and tell them what is it you’ve done.” He grabbed her hand then, effectively stopping her, “We can’t tell them, Zelda. Diana would never forgive me, our sister would never forgive me.”
“Do you have any idea of what you have done, Edward? I think that you don’t.”
“Please, sister. Please. Nothing will happen to my child, Sabrina will be safe. She has her two parents-” Zelda scoffed, “One of which is a human, Edward. In any case she should be protected, too, she can’t protect the child.” Was her brother really so naive as to think that a human could protect his child against dark arts? Had humans corrupted him so?
“But she has two magical aunts; you are to be her Night Mother, Zelda. We both know that if you had claimed the role of High Priest, you could have taken it out of my hands! That is how I know that my daughter will be alright! Because she has you.” And Zelda could confirm how loving someone hurt, she had not met her niece, but she already loved her, and she would protect her, that girl was her blood. She would bleed for this child. And she would keep this secret for her brother, even if it hurt.
As Diana’s pregnancy progressed, Zelda’s visits became more frequent, she could not attend a human doctor in fear that her pregnancy was that of a witch’s, meaning that the gestation time was twelve months, instead of the human’s nine months of pregnancy. Instead, Hilda, who had also become a midwife (although one not as good as her sister, who had gained great reputation as a midwife for having never lost a baby) was doting on Diana and her unborn niece, Zelda came whenever her brother or Diana had any serious concern with the pregnancy, and when the time to deliver the babe came, Zelda would be in charge. The fiery witch, slightly repulsed at the idea of looking after a human, but nevertheless, she stayed, because her brother had asked her to, and Hilda had wanted her sister to stay, her eyes told her. Hilda had always been an expressive eyes, and when she wasn’t telling something, her eyes would speak volumes.
So Zelda came and went, she still kept her protection in place, but she allowed the placement of a spell that would let her know when either of her siblings or Diana were calling to her. Zelda had no problem teleporting back and forth, from her place in England to Greendale. And she would do this, no matter how taxing it was, she would do it, she would suffer through it, because she loved them.
The time came to bring her niece into the world on the night of October 31st. Her niece was the most beautiful baby Zelda had ever seen, she had blonde hair, like her mother and aunts (well, Zelda used to have blonde hair, not anymore after her Dark Baptism) and Edward’s eyes. Zelda loved her, and it hurt.
Three days after Sabrina’s birth, Hilda had no choice but to hold a secret. She did it for love, even if it hurt.
Zelda stopped by once or twice a week to see her niece, but no more than that. She refused to hold the babe.
Three months after Sabrina’s birth, Edward and Diana finally went to their honeymoon, thus leaving their baby girl with Hilda and Zelda. They knew that the child was safe and cared for. That first night, Zelda’s skin tingled nonstop, and when she finally fell asleep, her dreams were swarmed with images of death, her brother and his human wife, dying, over and over and over until she woke up with a gasp, the sheets sliding off her body. She trembled and her skin felt ice cold, her head was fuzzy. She roamed the house the rest of the night, back and forth between Sabrina’s room and the rest of the house, avoiding the floorboards she knew were rickety.
The greatest pain came that next morning, when a phone call alerted her of her brother’s passing, they had died in a plane crash, just like in her dream. Her mind went blank, she wen numb. Tears fell from her eyes in dangerous rivulets.
“Who was it on the phone, sister?” Hilda asked form behind her, holding the baby.
Zelda could not even turn to her, so the large woman walked around so she could see her sister’s face. She had never seen Zelda crying, “Zelda?”
“Edward and Diana are dead.”
For much time, Zelda believed that there would be no greater pain than failing the Dark Lord, her greatest fear was losing her siblings. And she lost Edward, her big brother. She loved him, and he left. Love is nothing but pain, and this was her greatest one.
At sixteen years old, Sabrina Spellman had thrived into a young witch and fine young woman under the care and tutelage of her aunts. Hilda, who was the warm and caring one, Zelda, the stern but protective one.
“You’re not my mother, Zelda. So stop acting like you are!” Sabrina yelled at her.
Zelda’s expression froze in surprise, “Oy! You do not speak to your aunt Zelda like that, not ever!” Hilda’s exclamation brought her back to the present, and her mask returned. She had learned at a young age to mask her feelings.
“It's fine, Hilda. You heard her. She’s not a child, and I’m not her mother. She’s a grown-up witch now, and it’s time she learned how the world, the realms, really work. Everything has a price. Edward learned that lesson. I learned it. It’s your turn now.” Few words were exchanged after that, Zelda could see Hilda’s eyes, filled with tears, anger and sadness.
Once Sabrina left, Hilda turned to her and opened her mouth as if to speak, Zelda shook her head and left upstairs. Her whole body shook as she moved to her and Hilda’s room, tears trekking down her marble face until they joined at her chin and fell. You see, Hilda and Zelda put everything they had into their niece, they each saw them as a child, and Sabrina was theirs, their little girl. Zelda loved Sabrina, and it hurt.
Grabbing the cat-o’-nine-tails that she kept in her drawer, Zelda disrobed until she was left in her black corset and underskirt, the pain that the instrument left behind served to numb the pain she felt in her heart, pain that was once more caused by love. So she struck herself, once, twice, thrice and many times until she felt sticky blood on the back of her corset. Repeatedly, in a consistent manner she slashed herself until someone stopped her, a hand grabbed onto her wrist before she could finish the movement.
Hilda.
Hilda who hugged her and cried with her. Hilda who made her change and held her and comforted her. She loved Hilda, Hilda loved her and it hurt.
In the end, Sabrina came back and Zelda comforted her, because after all, she was her little girl. Sabrina hurt because she loves the human so much that she risked necromancy for it. Zelda loved her girl so much, that when Sabrina hurt, she hurt. Zelda had learned, a long time ago, that loving someone was a curse. A curse that only brought pain to those who loved. She could move away from all of this as she had done once before, learn to not care just as she had done before. The last time she tried, it did not work, for she loved her family dearly, this time would not work either. Zelda Spellman bowed to protect her family until she dropped, she would make sure that loving people hurt less, even if she had to feel it more.