It sat atop a hill. Perched. Looming over the town with an ominous energy. Tales told of a young woman bearing a fog that remained each day. But she found beauty in the turmoil, speaking spells and brewing potions for the town. At first, they rejected her ways and shunned her wares, but she assured them that she was made of earth and wished to connect the humans with their roots once again.
“I have grown fond of all things green,” she would say. “We have broken our connection with the Spirit of all that lives. I once traveled across the continent, healing others with the very earth at their feet. But I have decided to settle here and allow those who seek healing find me.”
Perhaps it was her soft voice or her small figure, but the town gradually grew to like the young witch. By summer, she told them her name. “Camellia, like the flower.” Suddenly, Camellia flowers began to bloom in the quiet little town.
From far and wide, people came to Camellia for healing and peace. She not only mended their physical wounds, but their spiritual wounds as well. Whomever her magic touched, flowers would bloom. Each night, she would return to her home and more of the fog would drift away. The twilight would be clear above, twinkling with other universes. On full moon nights, you could see her on the highest balcony, staring up at the sky.
Throughout the years, many tried to win Camellia’s heart. But each time, she politely refused. “My heart belongs to the Earth. I cannot do the work I do if I were to give my heart to you.” To those who were close to her healing knew that with each rejection, she was strengthening herself and her craft.
Although her face stayed young with each passing year, her wisdom grew. The townspeople protected her and understood that she was not of this world. She was a gift. If anyone wronged her, they would stand at her side… but she never needed them to fight for her.
“Nature creates beauty,” she explained. “But sometimes beauty can be deadly when trifled with.” A handful of patrons would ever test Camellia’s kindness, only to end up on the bad end of a curse.
Soon, the witch decided to train others in her craft. Those who were willing to give themselves to nature began to train with Camellia in the town. When they had been anointed in the ancient art, they could decide to remain in the town or spread magic elsewhere. In mere years, over fifty people of all ages became one with the earth, just as Camellia had.
Decades passed and more flowers spread past the town’s borders. The fog at the house on the hill had completely vanished and Camellia was joyful. But one day, she did not come down from her home. The townspeople became worried as a dark cloud formed over the shack, bringing cascading rain and booming thunder.
But no one had ever ventured to her home and they were afraid. Some thought that she had perished and the earth was upset. Others feared that she had become evil. Three women braved the trek up to the gates and attempted to peer inside. Nothing. The candles had been extinguished and it did not appear that anyone was home. One of Camellia’s disciples took the initiative to open the door, the other two following close behind her.
The floor seemed vacant. A thin blanket of dust laid upon it. The women hesitantly spread out and searched the home. It was in her room that they found it. A letter. Scrawled in black ink and addressed to the town.
My time is over. Thank you for accepting me. Think of my tears when the rain falls. Think of my voice when the wind blows. Think of my eyes when the stars twinkle. But think of my legacy. It is in your hands now. I go back to nature to watch over you. Until next time. Camellia.
The town adopted the name of Camellia for the woman who showed them how beautiful nature could be. Those she had trained continued her work and trained others. Today; psychics, empaths, and healers are descendants of that woman. Trust in yourself, and trust in your gift.