The children took their seats on rocks and stumps I'd placed around a small campfire.
I took a moment to clear my mind and take note of each parent and child that was present.
"You're either born with magic, or you're not. If you're here, that means each of you will one day become a mage, a sorcerer, a wizard, or a… witch! I come from a long line of witches — I might as well have been born with a spellbook in my hands—"
A boy with big eyes and a melancholy face spoke up. "My dad's a warlock," he shouted with snot dripping down his upper lip.
"That's interesting. Thank you for sharing," I said with a nod. "Warlocks are different; they require another being to grant them magic. I'm referring to innate magic."
A girl raised her hand. "Miss Cynthia, aren't you a princess and a witch?"
"No!" a different boy yelled. "My daddy told me she was a queen!"
"Settle down, there's no need to shout. I was never, and hopefully never will be, a princess."
"My mommy told me you were a queen too," another girl interrupted.
"Alright, enough interrupting. Yes, it's true. It's a name I picked up along the way, during the story I'm about to tell you."
"What name, Miss Cynthia?" they all asked.
"Cynthia Cairn, Witch-Queen of Fractured Forest."