We are living in desperate times
These are desperate times my dear
There's no way out of here
There's no way out my dear
I've been holding back all my tears
Just so the pressure don't show
Like a time bomb ticking away
I might blow up some day

Back to the Wall – The Divinyls

Unknown POV

Knowledge is a curse that I had tried to lift on my shoulders by myself. Even when people slowly started to share its weight, I knew I was the one destined to carry it.

So what did I do? I told a lie.

I didn't say anything. I held the truth back, and yet, I am aware it still is a lie.

Four simple words… and I know they can change everything.

Simple words… they would destroy everything we ever had constructed.

Words… they are the only thing that is holding us up on the air.

I know is only a small lie. But one lie can tell a thousand stories.

And I am afraid the words will tell everything I had carried on. Because I know it is going to destroy us.

Third POV

A small platform was placed in the middle of the vast room. Still, floating platforms were set from below up to the ceiling for the convenience of the public.

All of them were divided by three sides, and the way to distinguish them was for the color of their robes. From left to right; forest green, royal blue, and amber cloaks. Each of them had a symbol on the fabric. Forest green had teardrop shapes on the linings of the cloak; royal blue had a pentagram with wings on each side on the back; and amber wore a V with three stars on the right of the latter, the pattern repeated itself at the ends of the cloak.

In the beginning of rows of platforms was a small wooden wall, and in the same way they were all placed, the same symbols were carved on it.

Suddenly, a man broke into the principal platform. Looking on his early twenties, and wearing an amber robe, he cleared his throat. Pulling out his wand, the man muttered something, and his voice rang through all above them.

"One, two, three – one two three – do you all hear me?!"

He was answered by the groans and exclaims of complain from the wizards on the stands.

The man blushed.

"Er – right, sorry!" he cleared his throat once more, and his voice didn't sound as squeaky as it did before. "Welcome, my fellow Wiccans! My name is Jaret Archer, Councilor of the Veritas Coven. I would say is a great honor to be here for the first time but…" the younger man turned grim. "We all know the reason for this meeting."

The older wizards among the public bowed their heads while it began to arise the sounds of low mumbles.

"Without delay, I may present you all, the Head Mages of the Covens!"

At once, all the wizards stood from their seats.

A tall woman Apparated on the main platform. Her raven hair was extremely short, styled into a pixie cut, the blonde highlights shining almost golden because of the moon's light. She was wearing a long black sleeved dress with a leather brown corset, dark yellow fingerless gloves, and a pair of brown leather boots. On her neck, she wore a chocker with an amber locket on it. The V with three stars shone proudly on her.

"Head Mage of Veritas, Madam Erin Carver."

The wizards with the amber colored robes bowed as Jaret Archer did, with their right hand on fist put above their hearts. Erin Carver's golden eyes glowed for an instant, and all the Veritas Coven stands erect. With a slight nod of her head, the Head Mage went to the farther side of the platform.

"Head Mage of Lotus, Sir Damien de Gramont."

An old man walked up with the help of his cane, which seemed made of golden roots and in the top of the holder, was the teardrop symbol. His long silver hair was tied into a bun by a Chinese green ornament. His long robes were parchment colored and the details of ancient runes were painted with a delicate green brush. Despite the fact he was blind, de Gramont was looking at the crowd with gentle green eyes. It didn't surprise anyone to see they were a milky color.

Snapping his cane against the floor, all the green cloaked wizards stood and bowed their heads, their hands positioned as if they were praying. Two more hits of the cane on the floor and they stood erect.

Without even waiting to be called, a third figure came on the spot.

With deliberate steps, a young woman came to stand on the middle of the other mages.

When it was mentioned she was young, I mean younger than all of them. Not even twenty years old, she was less tall by head than Erin. Different from the other two, she wore a long blue coat with a black buckle on her left breast keeping it attached. Underneath it, black leggings were barely visible. Her dark brown hair was slicked back into a ponytail, curling slightly at the ends. On her neck, lay a blue medallion, a pentagram with wings carved with silver on the blue stone.

The only thing that didn't match her wardrobe was the white Sneakers tennis on her feet. Even her blue icy eyes, which darted between the other Head Mages and the Covens in nervousness, matched her choice of clothing.

Standing somewhat shyly, she took a step forward, and with her hands on her back, she bowed to the spectators. The blue cloaked coven responded in the same way.

"And recently appointed as the Head Mage of the Night Sky Coven, I have the honor to present Miss Anya Barton."

The Night Sky Coven relaxed their positions. Applause began to take place on the short silence that had followed her presentation.

Fifteen year old Anya Barton sighed.

"Only a few, my arse," she muttered bitterly.