7 November 2007, in an old house somewhere at the edge of Manchester

Heidi Jonas brought the blade up in a swift arch, cutting through the air in front of her as she spoke the words in the book forcefully. The blade travelled through the rising smoke and she finished the incantation with a "so mote it be" as the tip of the blade just touched the surface of the water. The energy she had raised within her channeled to the liquid and she was finally able to relax.

"You must hold the blade as ya were taught, Heidi."

Heidi sank a little. Ritual of this sort was a new thing to her, having only been taught to her in recent months by her ever-patient grandmother. Nanna's assessment, no matter how well meant, stung her. "I turned it in my mind, Nanna. Really I did." she sighed a little, sensing the the brew was properly charged.

"And ya know the importance of form." the old woman's voice was kind, but firm. "You are very talented, but it's not an excuse for bein' sloppy."

"I know, Nanna." she said, dejectedly, looking down at her accomplishment with a waning enthusiasm. "I'll try harder next time. I promise."

Nanna snorted and walked over to the altar "Not the point, child." Her wrinkled fingers picked up the bowl and assessed it critically. She glanced over at her grandaughter fondly, nodding approval to the bowl, "More than good enough. But ya must still follow form."

Heidi looked over as her grandmother checked her work and she felt a moment of dread as the potion was assessed exacting detail and a thrill as the approval followed. "But why, if I can make it work anyway?"

Nanna smiled for a moment and then set the bowl down. "Well, who taught ya the Art?"

"You did."

"An' who will be teachin your kids?"

"I...oh...." Heidi understood and looked to the old woman with a bit of a lost look on her face. She saw Nanna's smile and realized that she couldn't argue around the point.

"Ya see, Heidi. You gots a ton of gift most people will never see." she pointed around the room. "A place like this helps ya a thousand ways that it could never help another, jus cuz you can do a lot of it in your head. The little ones you'll be teachin' in a few years may take after ya, but what if they don't?" The old woman's face got serious, "See, ya gotta teach the whole tradition by practising all of it, right down to the last hand motion and intonation. Understand me?"

The girl nodded once, listening. "You don't take shortcuts, Nanna?" She started to put things away and was sure to toss a pinch of salt over her shoulder as she did so.

"'Course I do." Heidi made a face at the admission and the old woman was quick to add "When you been practising the Art as long as me, the form is written on your meat." Her hands moved to help with putting things away. "But ya see, I must teach ya the form as my first responsibility to the Art. If I don', then I fail everyone and a thousand years of tradition die in this generation." She poked at her granddaughter "I ain't gonna live forever, Heidi. Someone gotta go on after me...you're about the best shot I got, now that your no account father poisoned the well on me." The last words were bitter, no doubt about it.

Heidi simply listened and nodded, silencing the wince as her grandmother expressed her disdain for the son whom she felt betrayed the family tradition. It was a sore subject, one that the young witch didn't want to get into again. Breaking the tradition, as she had learned young, had stiff penalties--and her father still wasn't speaking to her because of them.