Magic bloomed only within the souls of a few.
This ability concerned the soul rather than bloodline. No matter how hard pure-blood supremacists "worked" to protect it, Muggle-born wizards still appeared in the end.
For children of the twentieth century, the Witch Hunts were a thing of the distant past. Their neighbors and family did not look like the Muggles from the Witch Hunts, so why should they continue obeying the outdated International Statute of Secrecy?
On July 19, 1692, the atmosphere was suffocating. Salem's constable, handsome Herrick, and his deputies escorted five female prisoners with bound hands onto a wooden cart. Under armed guard, they slowly passed through the center of Salem, going by the church, Hassan's home, Stephen Sewall's home, Corwin's home, and crowds of wide-eyed, whispering onlookers.
The five women on the cart were ragged and pale. The youngest among them was Sarah Good. Her five-year-old daughter Dorothy was still imprisoned in Boston jail. Sarah had been pregnant during her March examination, then gave birth in prison, where the child later died.
The oldest were Rebecca Nurse and Susanna Martin, a widow from Amesbury. Both were seventy-one. The other two were Elizabeth Howe and Sarah Wildes. They should originally have been executed alongside Bridget Bishop that month, but through Francis Nurse's efforts, their executions had been delayed. Including Sarah Osborne, who had previously died of illness in prison, there were seven of them in total—the earliest victims of the Salem witch trials.
The five women on the cart had not known one another before their arrests, but after spending the most miserable weeks of their lives in neighboring cells, they had become fellow prisoners.
"What a pity." Sarah Good, her eyes brimming with venom, looked at Rebecca Nurse. "If you could have gotten out, those little bitches