Red Moon Witnessed

That night, the chamber smells of damp stone, wax, and something sweet something that has no name in any herbarium. The green potion in the silver goblet gives off steam like a breath, and flower petals swirl lazily within it, too calmly for something that is about to cease being innocent. She takes her time. She never rushes.

A few drops. That’s enough. The dark liquid falls from the vial like a coagulating moment and in that second, the chalice changes color, changes nature, changes the fate of whoever drinks it