“Hey Elizabeth? Since we don’t have that fire pit made yet, can I use your stove? It’s a new moon and-“ Silas called as he walked into the living room, looking down at the slew of vials he held against his chest, trying not to drop any. He glanced up, expecting to find Elizabeth sitting in her usual chair, but he was met with six pairs of eyes staring back at him. He stopped, unsure of what to do. Elizabeth hadn’t said anything about guests, especially not older female humans. “Uhm-“

“Oh, you must be Elizabeth’s son from her other marriage. What a handsome young man!” A plump lady exclaimed, her voice thicker than honey.

“He’s a little skinny, don’t you think?” Another questioned, and he was especially perplexed by the fit of obnoxious giggles they all fell into.

“Well, nothing that some good ol’ southern food won’t fix.”

He didn’t know what to do or even say as they discussed his weight. Wasn’t that a little rude? “Where’s Elizabeth?” He questioned, and fortunately one of them answered.

“In the kitchen, sweetie. Do you always call your momma by her god given name?”

“She’s not my mom.” He huffed, making his way into the kitchen so that he could finally put the vials down, ignoring the stares boring into his back. The kitchen was set apart from the living room, which might be why Elizabeth couldn’t hear her weird friends harassing him. She seemed to be icing a cake, humming to herself. She jumped as Silas burst in.

“Who are those humans in the living room?” He asked, knowing that his tone was grumpy. He certainly wasn’t accustomed to being around humans all of the time.

“Oh, I must’ve forgotten to mention. They’re here for women’s bible study.” Elizabeth answered, watching him as he carefully set his little glass bottles down, each of them filled with a different color liquid.

“Those vultures are Christians? Are you sure?”

“Silas.” She scolded, shooting him a warning look that made him roll his eyes. She sighed and turned back to her cake. “Would you like a slice?”

“No. I need to know when humans are going to be here.” Silas crossed his arms over his chest. If not for their own safety, but his. He did not feel like falling victim to a modern day witch trial. “I was going to ask for a favor.”

“A favor? Bold of you to ask with that attitude.” She said, making him grit his teeth.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Do you play Minecraft?” Ethan asked, reaching out to touch the alter he’d set up on top of his dresser. The ten-year-old had just let himself into his room, judged how he had it set up, and was now asking him if he played video games? Silas grabbed his wrist to prevent him from touching it. The alter wasn’t set up for any deity in particular, just whoever might be passing through, but it didn’t mean he wanted Ethan’s grubby hands tainting it.

“Do you know what happens to little boys who touch stuff that isn’t theirs?” He asked, as Ethan wrenched his hand away from his cold grip. “I’m not little.” He whined, but Silas leaned down to his level. “The devil enters their body and makes them microwave their hamsters.” He made his eyes flash black for good measure.

Ethan only crossed his arms over his chest, trying to glare at him, but he could see the uneasiness in the kid’s eyes. “You don’t scare me! I know what you are.”

“Oh yeah?” He raised an eyebrow. “What am I?”

“A witch!” Okay, so he wasn’t expecting Ethan to actually get that right. He could be referring to those humans who worship nature and call themselves witches though.

“Ah, you got me.” He relented, sighing like he’d just been caught red handed. “Who told you?”

“My best friend, Archer. He’s a werewolf and he said not to let you scare me!” He said defiantly, almost like he was trying to make himself believe his words. Silas couldn’t help but snort in amusement, kids sure did like to overshare.

“I hope you don’t go around talking about the supernatural to everyone.” Silas went to go plop down on his bed.

“No, I haven’t even told mom and dad.” He boasted. “Archer said you were a Necromancer. Can you really make zombies?”

“I guess that’s one way to put it. I’m not very good at it yet though.” Witches powers developed very slowly, Keir was certainly an exception to that rule and exemplified just what happens when their abilities grow too quickly, so in witch terms Silas was a little baby. He could raise small animals easily, but anything bigger than a deer wore him out. He hadn’t even attempted a human yet.

“When I was eight, my cat died. We buried her in the backyard. Can you bring her back for a little bit?”

“She’ll just be bones.”

“I’m okay with that.”

Silas thought about it for a second. What could be the harm in that? With a shrug, he stood up. “Show me where she was buried.”