[ WP ] Two people promise their first born child to two different witches in return for a favour . These two people end up getting married and have a child together .

Rowena sighed. At her mere forty-something years, she were the youngest High Witch appointed in two hundred years ( she had actually gone through the records to confirm that ). As such, she had not yet fallen into the routine that allowed the older witches to regard the semiannual meetings as mere opportunities for exchanging gossip with allies, socialising with acquaintances, and plotting the downfall of their enemies. Rowena, on the other hand, was not a schemer by nature, but a stickler for rules and procedures; in fact, she could n't get rid of her silent suspicion that she had been appointed merely so that she was kept busy and would n't get in the way of usual business. 
 
 She eyed the grove from behind the table at her raised platform. The witches were busy with themselves, not paying the de iure High Witch any attention. Some were silently muttering to themselves, some were laying cards. One was cooking something that might have been, according to it's color, either a soup or the Elixir of Horrible and Excruciating Gut Pain. As far as that particular witch's cooking skills went, it was probably both, Rowena thought. 
 A gaggle of younger girls, merely seventeen, was off by themselves a bit offside, busying themselves with love potions and palm reading. Probably to find their true love, the High Witch assumed. She sighed again and straightened her black dress. Then she adjusted her horn-trimmed glasses. Then she straightened the dress again. Being a High Witch was really boring, she decided. 
 
 As if to belie her thoughts, there was a commotion at the outer circle. The High Witch groaned inwardly as she recognized two of the three figures coming out from the shadows. 
 
 The first was Anora, a gruff witch twenty years Rowena's senior. She usually looked down on everybody as if they were mere insects. Now, that was not uncommon for a witch - in fact, it was practically a professional requirement - but at least the others had the decency to pretend otherwise in public. Talking with Anora, on the other hand, was like pulling steel wool through your arse. Inwards. 
 
 The second was Sierra, a witch slightly younger than Rowena, always seeming slightly aloof, sometimes talking to things even other witches could not perceive, and rumour was it she was a little bit off her rocker. However, none would dare suggest so to her face, as what she lacked in perceived sanity, she made up in power. 
 
 The third was a woman, maybe of twenty-five years, clutching a bundled-up child. She looked like your stereotypical carnival fortune teller, and Rowena would not have been surprised, had she somehow produced a crystal ball and started cold reading all present. The other two led her, occasionally poking her in the back. As the trio caught sight of the High Witch, Anora strode forward, as if she owned the place. She stood in front of Rowena, her hands propped up to her sides. 
 
 `` I *demand* a judgment'', she declared haughtily. At this, attention turned to the High Witch's podium. 
 
 Rowena raised her eyebrows. `` Sure you mean you *request* a judgment'', she chided softly. `` What's all this about then?'' 
 
 Anora and Sierra took turns describing the situation. From the shouting, interrupting and insulting one's another professional prowess Rowena finally gathered that both witches had made a contract with the father and the mother of the child, and been promised the respective first-born. Now, Anora and Sierra stood before the High Witch, seeking a decision. The father had died a few months before the birth of the child due to a freak accident with a gun. The mother would not let go of the child, and as neither of the witches wanted to bother with bringing a lone crying child to the court, they had simply taken the mother with them. 
 
 After raising her hand to silence the two witches, Rowena regarded those standing before her, trying to think of a precedent for dealing with the situation. She found none in her memory, so she turned to her books. She stretched her hand out over her table, palm downwards; the air wobbled a bit, and the sky black Book of Rules manifested under her hand. 
 
 Rowena flipped through the pages until she found the correct section, and started reading aloud: 
 `` On the precedence of contracts, agreements, duties, and other forms of bonds unknown hereto, as laid down after the Fourteenth War of the Practitioners of the Arts, procured from the collective agreement of the survivors, lest our lack of rules sends us to war again, so that we may not...'' 
 
 She skipped the rest of the introduction. Whichever survivor of the last war had written this had really wanted to drill it into the collective mind that rules were important, and if you did not follow them, wars broke out and civilizations collapsed ( if witches were involved, sometimes literally ). The High Witch could sympathize with that sentiment. 
 
 The rest of the chapter contained several handwritings and you also got the impression that the chapter had gone through multiple revisions. Rowena read on out loud: 
 
 `` The order of duties shall thus be as follows: a duty to a witch has precedence over a duty to a mortal; a bond with a witch is more prominent than a contract with nature, unless the witch in question is of the druidic persuasion, in which case see addendum R, subchapter 39; a witch is not obligated to fulfill a contract with a god, but the undersigned heavily advice fulfilling the contract anyway if said witch values her life; all other things being equal, a bond made under a full moon has precedence over one made during the waning moon, unless it is also made during a blood moon. In all cases, however, a contract sealed by blood is higher than a contract of the same precedence not bound by blood...'' 
 
 `` Excuse me?'' 
 
 These were the first words muttered by the mother, and Rowena peered curiously at her over her glasses. `` Who are you, child?'' 
 
 `` Fortuneteller Margot, m'lady''. The High Witch smirked at being addressed thusly. 
 
 `` You may speak your business, Margot.'' 
 
 Margot took a deep breath and looked Rowena straight into the eyes, with the desperation of one who has nothing to lose: 
 
 `` It is my understanding, then, that if a witch bound by blood to the child claimed it, that would cancel out both of the contracts?'' 
 
 The elder witch looked taken aback, for a moment. `` I suppose so, but what does this have to do...'' 
 
 `` Then I claim the child is blood bound to a witch, me being the witch in question'', Margot blurted out. 
 
 Silence filled the circle, followed by uproarious laughter. Even Rowena allowed herself to curl her lips to a smile at the audacity. `` Explain yourself.'' 
 
 `` I have been an avid practitioner of the Arts for five years! I can cite witnesses who will confirm that they sought me out, in my capacity as a witch; that they felt a tangible benefit after those visits, which they attribute to witchcraft; and that I have employed various techniques used by witches, such as laying cards and palm reading.'' Margot pointed to two of the witches who had done that earlier. 
 
 Rowena blinked in surprise. Sure, when you put it like that, it was true, but... her musings were interrupted by Anora. `` Laughable! ``, she spluttered. `` She is not a witch! I will not stand idly by while this... charlatan derides our Arts!'' 
 
 The High Witch smiled inwardly. This meeting *was* going to be interesting, after all.
