My parents cautioned me about witches and warlocks as I grew up. They claimed they were manipulative and coercive, that they were dangerous, and that their only motivation was to get control of all the Four Courts had.
I used to be terrified of them as a kid. They were scary, according to Mother's account of the conflict between the courts and the witches. As a result, expressing their type's name is outlawed, and publications regarding their race are burned and buried. They'd been forgotten for a long time. Anyone who speaks the name will be punished by the kingdom. Their kind's name is thought to be associated with death and misery.
Witches, particularly the heads of the courts, are said to despise royalty. That's why my father was forced to conceal my identity by telling his people that I died in the fire with my mother because he believed witches were responsible. Only ashes remained after my corpse was completely incinerated. The palace had been keeping it hidden from the citizens of the Kingdom of Ruby. A secret worth a hope for individuals who aren't quite up to par.
The reason I'm perplexed right now is how these witch books ended up in the attic when I discovered it the other day. Who was there? Is there someone staying with us in secret, digging up information on the witches? Is it possible that these books originated from the library?
I sigh and shake my head. It isn't possible. If these books were there before, father would have known about it, unless—
I gasp.
Unless, he knew about it all along.
But why? Why would my father keep anything like this hidden from me?
When I discovered these books in the attic, I sneaked them out and placed them in my room. I can't possibly risk returning them to the library. I'm not sure how I'd hide it well enough in the library so Tremaine or the servants cleaning it wouldn't notice.
The only place I know these books are safe is in my room, which Tremaine and her girls are unlikely to visit.
After cleaning the basement, I go through the books one by one. I use a damp rug to wipe away the dust that has clung to it.
Book of Prophecy: The Witches’ Oracle
Something tugs my curiosity. Is prophecy even real anyway?
And Oracle? What’s that?
I take out the book and open it. The first page is blank, while the second is ripped. I keep flicking through the pages. Nothing makes sense to me. The letters function as symbols. I have no idea what those symbols mean, so I am unconcerned.
When a small piece of paper falls from between the pages, I stop turning the pages. I open it and see words that, thankfully, I recognize.
Twin draco from obsidian stone
For who will prevail may sit thy throne,
The forgotten one will rise awake
Balls of magic, so little to take.
Crystal fortress of missing stone,
Find by the stealer of the sacred bone,
Once you leave, consider it the last,
For no one sees her more than once.
I sigh deeply as I close the book. Those words have a strange effect on me. Even though I know how to read it, I have no idea what it means. To me, it appears to be pointless. Perhaps only witches are capable of comprehending their own writings.
I reopen it and see that those are the only words on the page. The following pages are empty. I shake my head in dismay and slam the book shut before putting it on the table.
I don't think the books are dangerous. Maybe that's why Father let them sit in our library for so long. They don't do anything other than collect dust and become worn out. I suppose witches aren't really gifted writers. Those two phrases I just read appear to be a mishmash of words.
I emerge from the cellar and swagger my way to the yard to divert myself. On the threshold, I pass Tremaine and her daughters.
I approach her because I remember something I want to ask her about.
“Mother, may I speak with you?”
She looks at me in a displeasing manner. Anastasia and Drizella make a face.
“What is it, Sol? Hurry and we are not done talking yet with my daughters.”
Drizella nods. “We’re talking about the ball. And you are, as always, interrupting our discussion.”
“A ball? Where? Here?”
“No. At the Cromwell’s. Why?”
Cromwell? The neighboring kingdom of Larimar? And since when did she able to persuade the Cromwell to participate in her schemes? The last thing I know, Father and the King of Larimar Kingdom aren’t friends.
“What of the ball? Why are you having a ball, Mother?”
“It is none of your business, Solstice.”
“It is certainly my business, Mother since this is also my kingdom. I also heard about you inviting one of the families of Winter Court over here. You know what my father feels about them—
She snaps. “Your father, Solstice, is dead. My decisions no longer concern him or you. I am to be the queen of this Kingdom and not you. My affiliation to the Winter Court is for alliance. You know nothing about it.”
“Why would you need an alliance? The Four Courts are peaceful on their own!”
She smirks, menacingly. “You know nothing of how the world works, sweetheart. You’re better hiding on your basement.”
“Father will never approve of this.”
She smiles. “I need no one’s approval to make my own move. Now if you must, leave us be. We need to get ready for the ball tomorrow. One of the royal families of Winter Court is coming, my daughters are not going to miss it.”
Alongside her, Anastasia and Drizella are giggling. Before stomping my feet out of the threshold, I give them a cold stare. I try to calm down, enraged. Something has to be done. Otherwise, I won't know what will happen unless I attend the ball tomorrow.
What does Tremaine have up her sleeve this time? It takes more than an armistice to form an alliance with a neighboring kingdom and another court. She appears to be preparing for something more.
There was a period when I felt completely hopeless. It was when, despite my apparent opposition, my father married Tremaine. I felt helpless, knowing that my father's love for my mother had already diminished, and that his love for me would soon follow suit. I was despondent that my father opted to oppose me rather than reject another marriage proposal from Tremaine. I had given up hope that my family would ever be whole again. As we are carried away from the room where the Queen and I spoke, a familiar feeling surges through me like lightning, striking me with its mighty force. When we leave the room, I am quite weak. I can't even feel the pain of the Warden's fingers digging into my skin as they grasp me. I'm tempted to cry. It'd be simple for me to show weakness because I've never been tough. However, for some reason, I remain silent as I consider how the Queen dismisses my words as if they are contagious. Flynn joins m
The stiffness of the chain encircling both my wrists and feet causes a severe spasmodic loud exhalation through my nose and mouth. The rusted bars of the cell we're in suggest that this chamber is so aged that it looks more like a spider's house than a tormented soul's. I'm so irritated that the hay we're sitting on is causing my skin to itch, and I can't scratch it. I squint through the clefts of the cell and see a faint light at the end of what appears to be a tunnel. I'm not sure how we got here, where portion of the castle we're in, or even if we're in a castle at all. I awoke to find myself inside this hellhole. It's too dark, and the only source of light is a small barred window on the upper wall behind us. At the very least, I'd be able to tell if it's day or night through that hole. I can't believe they don't consider what I stated to be a threat. I can't believe that every single phrase they're afraid we'll say makes no se
It's incredible that no wild animals have found their way into this part of the forest. Animals are allowed to roam without being bothered by their noises because this residence is placed distant from the warden's quarters. I'm unable to sleep because I am terrified that some animals will attack us at any minute. As the sun's top limb beams brightly for the first day, I rise from my wooden chair, complaining about my back. As I step outside, the morning breeze greets me. The peaceful sounds of the trees' leaves, a few distant scratching noises, and birds' chirping sound make this morning a little more palatable. The woods in front of this house are still a little darker, and I'm tempted to go there and look for fruits, but I know that's not a smart idea. Particularly because Flynn is still sleeping and the wardens are only a few kilometers away. Despite the fact that the forest's dark auras seem to tempt me, I ignore
We take a step back as it creeps closer to us. As soon as it reveals its claws, we both run. Flynn is dragging me away. The shifting of the leaves and creaking of the stems and branches appear to be the animal's signal as we escape for our lives. The animal disturbs the forest's daytime and nocturnal species with its raucous and piercing howl. It isn't that far away. Its claws uproots and fling many trees in its path at us, forcing us to reroute. Why are there no wardens in this area perplexes me. Or did it completely wipe them out? “Flynn! Flynn!” I call when I take a sight to the hole we used before. He takes out his poniard and prepares for the vines once he realizes what I'm talking about. He makes a slit in it and pushes it open. I shove Flynn into the hole as soon as I see the animal approaching us. I'm stuck in a rut and have no idea when I'll be able to move. When animal's claws are about to drag me away, s
As I struggle my way through the basement's tight fissure, the wind whips across my face without stopping. This voyage has been one of the worst because I had to rush back here while delivering terrifying news to my unprepared determination. My quivering hands grab on to the creaky wooden railings of the wooden staircase to support my shaky legs. Because of the sprint, my chest is churning with heat. Tremaine is probably thinking I'm the one who's intruding on her private affairs right now. Even if I had doubts that she noticed me, there's no guarantee she wouldn't take me for a trespasser. That means she'll be down here in no time to check things out. I slam the door open I'm terrified it will break. Flynn gets up from his bed and looks at me, perplexed, as it swings. I don't quite appear to have succeeded in stealing his meal. I most likely appear to have witnessed a monster. I, for one, did. It's
As I return to the basement, the heavy footsteps of my boots reverberate through the corners, adding to the horror of earlier's mayhem with Anastasia. I constantly check behind me as I walk away from the situation to see if she is following me. I swear I saw her eyes become completely black right in front of my eyes. Anxiety suddenly shot through my chest. Why is she acting so strangely? What makes her so determined to get the necklace from me?“What happened?” Flynn’s face greets my presence.I walk past him and shut the door without greeting him. I hurriedly yank the necklace from my neck and pull the drawer from a rusted cupboard. I stare at it for a long time, trying to understand out why it has Anastasia so enthralled. It's just a simple necklace, really. It's not even as sparkly as the rest of their necklaces. The pendant is the only difference between this one with Anastasia's and Drizella's. A scarlet stone wi