ARAHThey said Baccayo Prison had been around long before Caylao Island became the tourist hotspot it is today. As the island grew more popular, people just pretended it didn’t exist—like an ugly scar that no one wanted to mention. The local government quietly pushed it out of sight, never talking about it, so it wouldn’t spook the tourists. The prison was isolated, tucked far away from the beaches and resorts, near the jungle and a rough, restless sea—hard to reach.Arah had never imagined she would set foot in this place. Not only was she about to be near dangerous criminals, but she was also being escorted by a witch whose coven wanted to take whatever power they believed she possessed.Fate surely had a wicked sense of humor.Their car stopped before a massive, rusted iron gate flanked by tall concrete walls topped with barbed wire. Overhead, dim lights flickered, casting eerie shadows on the road. Two uniformed guards stood in watchtowers on either side of the gate, rifles slung
ARAHThe guard led them down what felt like a back hallway, cameras watching from every corner. It seemed to stretch forever, with concrete walls pressing on either side—cold and oppressive. She knew what lay beyond these walls: the worst of the worst. Violent men who’d probably gutted people like livestock. Predators who’d done unspeakable things to women and children.Just the thought of them being so close made her stomach turn, and she had to fight the urge to throw up. But that wasn’t what made her skin crawl the most. It was the quiet. Apart from the occasional squeak of their shoes on the floor, the only other sound came from distant footsteps—likely guards doing their rounds somewhere out of sight. Now and then, the rattle of metal—a gate or maybe the clink of chains—cut through the silence, hollow and way too close for comfort.The stillness felt wrong. She’d expected angry voices, screams, and rage.But the whole prison felt… dead.They moved forward. The hallway opened into
ARAHThe room Alaunus led her to was one of the cells, but it was larger than she’d imagined. Spacious, even, for a place meant to cage someone. The air was cold, a stark contrast to the warmth below, even without air conditioning. It smelled better here, with smoke drifting from a bundle of burning herbs—the same thing Roselia had used to cleanse their house.A small rectangular window was cut into the stone wall above. A metal cover with tiny holes lay over it, filtering the moonlight into thin, white beams. The light trickled down like rain, pooling onto the crystals lined up across wooden tables propped against the wall. The glow bounced softly from crystal to crystal, spreading like a delicate web of light, shimmering faintly on the walls.Symbols—dozens of them—were scrawled across the stone walls. Most were open-palmed hands, each with a spiral in the center. Her eyes followed them, and she swallowed hard when she noticed the deep red stains marking the designs.“Is that... blo
ARAHHeadwitch. She wondered… How powerful could they be to lead a coven full of witches with such crazy abilities—each strong in their own way?She glanced at the table of crystals across the room, the familiar black pyramid in the middle catching her attention.“I’ve seen that before. Roselia has one exactly like it. I just didn’t ask what it was,” she said absentmindedly.Arah had promised herself she wouldn’t mention Roselia, but then again, these were the people who had wronged their witch friend first. Why should Arah care if it stirred up unpleasant memories for them? She didn’t know the full story, but she trusted Roselia’s words far more than those of these witches.Alaunus stood silently behind her, then moved to grab the pyramid and held it out to her. She took it, surprised by how heavy it felt despite fitting in her palm. The surface was smooth, like glass, and she could see her messy, exhausted reflection in it.“It’s used for protective spells,” he explained, sitting do
ARAHJoy swelled in her chest. Gildeon being beside her was all she needed to feel completely safe.He looked puzzled for a moment before a smile spread across his face. “How are you feeling?”She bolted upright, wrapping her arms around him, burying her nose into his shirt, into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. He smelled a bit different, but she assumed it was just the strong smoked herbs from the room clinging to his skin.“Are you really here?” She cupped his face, staring into his reptilian eyes, which seemed colder and lacked their usual glow. “How did you get out? Did the witches help you?”She squirmed slightly when his hands found her waist, caressing her before sliding to the small of her back.“You missed me?” he asked, his tone affectionate.She narrowed her gaze. “Of course I did. What do you think?”“I’ve missed you too, Arah.”She had never expected to hear those words from him, but she didn’t want to question it. Not tonight. Leaning in, she pressed her lips
ARAHJust when she thought the strange encounters of the night were over, fate threw another twisted joke her way.“Why are you…” Her voice wavered. “Are you one of them?”Agent Durante didn’t respond. Maybe he didn’t need to. His silence and steady gaze were confirmation enough. He stepped inside, and she instinctively retreated. Her mind flashed back to the day she and Gildeon had first met him... to her conversation with him in her studio. She had always felt uneasy around him, but she never would have anticipated this revelation about him.Arah felt even more violated than she had minutes ago. A burst of anger shot through her as full realization set in.“You arrested Gildeon, you son of a bitch!” she roared, hammering her fists against his chest. Agent Durante didn’t flinch. He absorbed the blows for a moment before grabbing her wrists, his brown eyes darkening, turning into orbs of black glass.She gasped and stilled. When Agent Durante blinked, his eyes shifted back to normal.
ARAH“Dammit!” She slammed her hands against the steel gate, the impact ringing out with a dull, metallic thud. Running her fingers through her hair, she fidgeted in place, pinching her lower lip, trying to figure out her next move. Her pride wouldn’t let her return to the witches’ block on her own. And it wasn’t like she could ask one of them to open this door for her.But she had to get out, no matter what. Her hand hovered over the access panel on the side. It looked old, like it hadn’t been in regular use before the witches arrived. Maybe she could break it open. She lifted the hem of her dress, wrapping it around her fist, and punched the control panel. Nothing. She struck it again, harder this time, each blow stronger than the last—each strike sending shooting pain up her arm. But Arah endured it, biting back her cries. Adrenaline rushed through her and on the final hit, sparks flew. The panel wires and chips sizzled.Arah stepped back, rubbing her bruised fist, her mouth droppi
Many Years Ago (Part 1.1)ARAHEENShe had not intended to stop before the cell, yet her feet slowed of their own accord. Before she could command them otherwise, her gaze had already settled upon the prisoners. She wasn’t entirely certain what had drawn her. Pity was forbidden. Perhaps it was curiosity. After all, she had never ventured this far into the Crescent Tower before. Not even as a child, when she had used to sneak in, longing to see a living, breathing salamander up close—rather than just the figures from stories or the illustrations in her books.The tower reserved this depth for salamanders considered to be the highest threat. Her entry here had been a hard-earned privilege, granted after she had passed the trials to become part of the sylph army—both as a sigilmaker and a warrior.Today, her father had finally allowed her to join his inquisition work, though he had given her no clue as to what awaited.“Araheen!” her father called.She turned swiftly, catching a fleeting s