East

The east side of the city is the very heart of Sacrosanct - it's unique skyline is a clash between modern sky rises and small Victorian-inspired storefronts. In the heart of downtown, the sleek colored glass buildings reign supreme though their old-world roots can be seen in the most peculiar places from the lamp post styled electric street light to the stone sidewalks. The old world architecture slowly returns the further from downtown you travel, however. It's here that magic thrives, it hums in every stone and can be felt in every breath. Often, newcomers to the city may become overwhelmed by such sensations but, eventually, it becomes an ever-present feeling that's hardly noticed.

What You'll Find Here

City Creek Center
Dark Hunter Department
Inner Sanctum
Red on the Water
Starlight Tower

I tend to dream real big sometimes


Posted on January 07, 2019 by Kathryn Murphy
East
kathryn quinn
I'm about to make my own way, heaven help me keep my faith


The witch with long, dark sable tresses that cascade down her back in loose curls had been entirely captivated by the books that both her grandparents and mother had sent to her. The moment her eyes had seen the tattered covers of these ancient family texts, a smile had curved its way onto her delicate lips. For days and nights she had barely slept, reading the text her grandparents had sent her, reading spells, intermingled with pieces of her family's long history of witches beginning in Ireland centuries ago. Kathryn's line was long, it was old, and most of the magic holders had been female, which gives the witch with hair a few shades light than black some satisfaction.

But what those silver blue eyes had not expected to see, was a package addressed to her, but on the return address, there was the name of her mother. The sable haired witch hesitated for a moment, wondering if this perhaps was some sort of trick, Kathryn has been rather weary since her encounter with a dark hunter. But that writing, the way it curves and flows, she knows that writing, knows the way the 'K' in Kathryn's name is written, and the sable haired girl knows this could be from no one but her own mother. A mother she has not spoken to in years. A mother who looked just like Kathryn with dark silken sable locks, bright blue eyes, but with pale skin like a porcelain doll.

The book had been perhaps older than the one that Kathryn's grandparents had given her, the bindings and covers looked as if they could fall apart any moment, which they probably could, but Kathryn could tell as she held the book of the magic that it contained, it was practically radiating off the pages and the sable haired witch had not yet even opened the cover of the spell book. A soft sigh of surprise escapes her then as she spots a plain white envelope, the only words on it: To My Daughter. 'Daughter' the word sounds foreign in Kathryn's mind and so she had tried to speak it out loud. "To my daughter," but even then it sounded stranger still. She had never heard, or remembered at least, her mother calling her daughter, it was just always Kathryn or Kat, her mother had after all given her the nickname.

With slightly shaking hands, she opened the letter, sliding her finger along the top as the paper gave easily to the pressure. As the envelope came open, the sable haired young witch pulled the folded letter out of the envelope, to read a message from the woman that had written little more than Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday for most of her life.

It wasn't that Kathryn was unsocial, it was more of a matter that the dark haired witch needed to be able to read the spell books and coven history books in peace and without prying eyes. Alekai had certainly left a lasting influence on Kathryn when it came to keeping her eyes peeled and ready for dark hunters. She brushes a strand of dark hair from that delicately beautiful face of hers, eerie, bright eyes of blue sweeping over towards the man. She stops when she reaches him, still those pale blue eyes lingering on the man before she asks her question inquiring about the chair. Though the man leaves no room for pause when answering her question. "Kathryn," she responds before she even knows what she is saying. Usually, the young witch was a lot more careful with her name, you never knew who was listening. Still, it was only her first name, her family name would not be something Kat gave out so freely. Silver blue gaze continues to watch the man as she takes a seat. "Well," she says, listing an eyebrow that sits above a silver blue eye. "Don't I get to know your name?"

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