Thor too had brought this star-moon-maiden here? That was an interesting tidbit... considering she was a Sleuth as well. Did our mentor recruit only those that he thought fitting for the rank? My mind flickered back to Thor's words when he brought me to the Edge. He had offered me a choice of the ranks... not a specific one. I had chosen Sleuth of my own will, so it had to be coincidence. Although, i had little faith in coincidences.

Cetan. My name falls from silvery lips, and i dart my gaze back up to the ethereal mare, and her words pull my features down into a puzzled frown. Free to speak my mind? Before i could dwell further on that, she's off on a tirade similar to Thor's, that the Edge was a family. My ears pinned back, and distrust creeps through me with sickening tendrils that wrap around my heart. Lies. Tricks. Someone so beautiful could not wish to be my kin. No one wished to be my kin.

I hardly hear her speak about 'Blood Tying', but what i do see is shocking. Astraea cuts her leg with her own horn. My head pulls back in alarm as she approaches, and all i can see is the pink-tinged tip of her horn. Then there is a sharp pain on my leg, and before i can spring away she has her leg to mine. What? What was going on? She speaks, and those icky tendrils just tighten more. Her blood? In my veins?

The heartbeat she pulls away my forelegs leave the ground, lashing out towards her, although by this time she is out of reach and my hooves graze only air. "Vrăjitoria!" The word tears from me, a trumpet of fear and horror. She had my blood and i had hers. Tied by blood.

Tied by blood. Tied by blood. Tied by blood.

Over and over and over the words screamed in my head. Blood was witch magic. Dangerous, lethal. And i had my guard, my paranoia, down enough to allow a witchling to steal my blood and bind me to her. My hooves slammed into the earth, and i twist, legs lashing out wildly before i gain traction and tear out of the grove as if all the bats of hell were chasing me. I had been fooled by the beauty of a star-painted maiden, and now her blood burned through my veins, pumped through my heart.

Out out out i wanted it out. My horn lashes at my leg as i run, all rationality gone, replaced with the sole need of getting away from the vrăjitoare. Never trust the beautiful. How could i forget such a simple rule?

The beautiful were flowers covering the bones of their victims.

Vrăjitoria: Witchcraft
vrăjitoare: Witch