The witch's rebirth

It was March the seer. The one that Alpha Knight had visit with me yesterday. She was dress in fur and a silky slip dress. The thing that interests me was her aura. It was pink.

So I think she must have met her mate but why was she here when she should be courting her mate?

Then I saw the mark, this was going to be interesting.

Usually, seers could see the future but not their future. To do that inner life force has to be used. Once use there will be remaining residue in the form of a large sun ink mark on the skin. March had one on her arm. To do that meant she had been actively searching for her mate in the stream of time and dimension.

For seers finding their mate was much more complex. All the right things had to happen. Meaning a soul with that resonance with theirs, power and genetics that line up with the qualifications of faith. And most important is the tempering of faith. I mean, for aunt Beladona. Her mate was next to her since young but the conditions were never met until he was on his death bed that is the story I was told.

It was sad.

For me, I had seer blood so having a mate made it complex. It shouldn't have been impossible but I have not found mine so it was understandable if she wanted to check.

"Hello," said March, "You are the NEW BOSS?"

There was no recognition in her voice. I wonder if I was that unmemorable. But then again I was visiting with a very powerful and handsome male.

"Yes., a bit unexpected." I said acting like I've never met her before, "But I can help you for a price. So where is he?"

There was a long paused. I watch as her aura shifted from pink to blue to red to green. IT changed constantly. And then I knew the problem.

This involved another dealer. Someone must have made an offer that couldn't be refused. A made mate, and there was only one. My dad's only rival. Sam Smith, the man with bleach blond hair that dresses like a rocker.

However tempting a made mate was, it was bad. Since it was a condition to tricker a chain mating event. Faith didn't like interference.

Creating your own mate counted as such an event. It was bound to end with heartbreak. A dead mate, a broken bond, a broken mate and the possibilities go on. I remember when grandmother suggest that I make a mate, I cringe that the consequences.