ã€ŠWelcome to Redwatersã€‹


 Chapter 1

    Hadrian carried within him a troubled aura, a glint of unease that couldn''t escape Ouray''s discerning gaze. Their deep connection allowed them to understand each other beyond words, and Ouray knew that the apparent calm of Hadrian concealed elusive inner turmoil. He was like a silent guardian, capable of piercing through his friend''s veils and deciphering the emotions hidden behind his impassive mask.

    The two men were a striking study in contrast. Ouray exuded wisdom, his casual attire highlighting his authentic nature. He wore light jeans and an unbuttoned linen shirt, casually revealing a pendant bearing an ancient symbol that bore the weathered marks of time. His shoulder-length hair was tied in a half-ponytail, uncovering his face marked by a mysterious scar. The faded line that snaked from his eyebrow to the bottom of his right eye lent a fearless aspect to his coppery complexion. Despite this mark, Ouray emitted a serene energy that underscored his decidedly unique character.

    Hadrian, on the other hand, seemed to exude coldness and distance, rendering him almost unapproachable. Dressed in a meticulously tailored dark burgundy suit and a black shirt, he stood out with elegance. His rosy skin seemed to radiate a magnetism that transcended the grayness of that day, accentuating his chiseled features. His straight nose, square jaw, and jet-black hair framed his face, granting him an almost ethereal beauty.

    "I didn''t remember it being so gray here." Hadrian remarked to his mentor and steadfast accomplice as he removed his black sunglasses, allowing his eyes to wander in the shadowy atmosphere of the central square in the small town in North Carolina.

    "It''s definitely not the weather that brought us back." Ouray quipped, appearing, at first glance, at least a decade older than his prot¨¦g¨¦.

    "I don''t intend to linger... I''ll talk to Fleur, try to understand what''s going on, and leave immediately," Hadrian announced absentmindedly, scanning the small shops, the park, and the cheerful passersby going about their activities on the square. They were oblivious to the looming threat above them, ignorant of Hadrian''s true nature and the dark secrets of the town that seemed so charming and unassuming.

    "But ... you''re not going to miss the wedding now that we''re here?" Ouray exclaimed, fixing Hadrian with surprise.

    "I don''t know, Ray. I just want to get things sorted quickly and leave as soon as possible... This town... It always has this effect on me," Hadrian mused.

    Buried memories mingled in Hadrian''s mind, casting an air of mystery and nostalgia over his words.

    "I know, but... despite everything that''s happened here, there''s still a unique feeling associated with coming back home, don''t you think?" Ouray asked in a gentle and compassionate voice, seemingly showing some satisfaction at their return.

    Hadrian ignored the question, captivated by his surroundings, almost in a trance. His piercing gray eyes scanned the square and the passersby with hypnotic intensity. He wasn''t used to feeling so many conflicting emotions, or even so many emotions at all.

    Anxiety, panic, and even a touch of nostalgia jumbled chaotically and disturbingly within him. These boiling human feelings sent curious electric shocks coursing through him, traveling along his centenarian immortal body, who didn''t appear to have crossed thirty years old.

    "Why don''t you take the car and drop off the luggage at the mansion? I''d rather walk for a bit," Ouray suggested calmly before getting up and leaving without further ceremony.

    Hadrian somewhat snapped out of his reverie and mechanically made his way toward the small black vintage car. As he drove away, he recalled all the horrors that the ground he had just set foot on had witnessed: injustice, pain, and blood... He had warned Fleur that staying in Redwaters was dangerous, even irresponsible! But the young woman had a strong character and the naive belief that the meager magical abilities inherited from her ancestors could not only protect her, but also protect her fianc¨¦, who was still unaware of the paranormal world and its dangers.

    Hadrian tightened his grip on the steering wheel, feeling a mix of frustration and worry wash over him. He was aware that their presence in Redwaters stirred dormant dark forces, secrets he would have preferred to keep buried. But now that they were back, he knew he had to confront the demons of the past, for the sake of Fleur and to preserve the fragile balance of their supernatural world.

    Hadrian loathed imagining Fleur in harms way, not only because of the promise he had once made to protect her but because she was his friend. She was one of the few people, whether human or supernatural, in whom he had trust. She had proven to him, the skeptic, that kindness still existed in this troubled world.

    He couldn''t help but hope for a better future for her, far away from this town that was on the brink of being engulfed by its dark past. He didn''t want to see her imprisoned in a life of turmoil, condemned to confront the demons that haunted the streets of Redwaters.

    His gaze drifted into the distant horizon, imagining an alternative reality where Fleur would be safe, free to live a peaceful existence. He felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, the burden of having to protect her from dark forces that continued to hound them.

    The few moments spent on the bench and the brief drive through town in his car were enough to turn Hadrian into a true object of fascination. People''s eyes turned as he passed by, men, women, and even the younger ones, captivated by the enchanting presence of the stranger. In the small town of Redwaters, where monotony was the norm, the appearance of someone so charismatic was an event in itself.

    The man''s refined allure evoked a world far removed from this provincial reality. His custom-tailored Italian suit, of exceptional elegance, stood out amid the casual attires of the townsfolk. His vintage car, a gleaming black Jaguar, elicited admiring and envious whispers from those who had never been near such a mechanical gem.

    Hadrian, on the other hand, had not anticipated the effect he would have on the residents of Redwaters. His mind was fully focused on Fleur, overwhelmed by her uncharacteristic distress call. Yet, he could have taken the time to adapt, to blend in, to avoid arousing so much curiosity. But in the urgency to respond to his witch friend''s unusual concern, Hadrian had put aside these trivial details.

    He sensed that something grave was afoot, a looming threat to Fleur and perhaps the entire town. The beginnings of a sinister plot had wormed its way into the shadows of Redwaters, and Hadrian was determined to put an end to this dark machination.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    " Eat something!" Fleur commanded with an adorable determination in her tone, as Elliot hastily pulled on his police uniform near the kitchen table. Without hesitation, he grabbed the toast in front of him and devoured it in an instant, under Fleur''s amused gaze. His face suddenly turned red, and to avoid choking, he took a few quick sips of orange juice. As the natural color gradually returned to his face, his fianc¨¦e said, "Don''t worry, everything will be fine, you''ll see."

    "It''s my first day; I have to make a good impression, and I''m already running late!" he replied, hurriedly tucking his shirt into his pants.

    Fleur approached him to help him button up his shirt, and the touch of her hands on his body instantly calmed Elliot. Since their first meeting, she had the natural gift of reassuring him with a simple gesture, a single word. The young man with wavy blond hair and stunning blue eyes felt incredibly lucky to share his life with her for almost a year, and the thought that she would soon become his wife filled him with unparalleled happiness.

    "I set your alarm clock half an hour earlier; you''re not late. I knew there would be a panic otherwise!" his fianc¨¦e admitted, finishing buttoning his shirt collar.

    Fleur, on her tiptoes, brushed his pretty pink lips with a tender kiss. A smile lit up Elliot''s face as he quickly checked his watch to confirm her words. He found that he did indeed have an extra half-hour.

    "You know me so well!" he exclaimed, a sense of relief spreading through him. He sat down at the table and poured himself some orange juice again, this time without any rush.

    Fleur, dressed in her delicate white lace nightgown, gracefully settled on Elliot''s lap. She slid onto him in a fluid, almost feline manner, resting her lush red head on his shoulder. Fleur looked at him with her beautiful deep green eyes and spoke in a tone that sounded more serious than usual:

    "Couldn''t you have chosen a different career path? Something less dangerous, perhaps? Like... I don''t know... pottery, for instance?"

    Elliot, recalling his commitment to his calling despite objections from some loved ones, assured her, "Fleur, I promise everything will be fine. You know I''ve always wanted to be in the police force, help people..."

    "I know, I know," the young woman resigned herself. "Your altruism is even one of the reasons I fell in love with you."

    Elliot then teased with a mischievous smile, "I thought it was my butt!"

    Fleur responded by kissing him lovingly, saying, "Your butt is the reason you didn''t have to wait for a third date to seal the deal!"

    "I promise to be careful. I intend to live very, very, very long... Long enough to see our six children grow up, the ones I''m going to convince you to have with me!" Elliot declared.

    Fleur, laughing, replied, "I sincerely hope you''ve found a way to carry them yourself because as long as it''s up to me, the negotiation stops at one child!"

    Elliot smiled, hoping to change her mind when the time comes, when suddenly, Fleur jumped up abruptly, landing on her feet and quickly headed to their bedroom.

    "Sweetie, is everything okay?" Elliot asked, although accustomed to Fleur''s curious behaviors.

    "Yeah, yeah, I just forgot something," she replied.

    A few seconds later, she reappeared with a small silver bracelet in her hand. She handed it to him and said, "Here, it''s a little lucky charm, it really would reassure me if you wore it."

    Elliot took the bracelet with a playful look and put it on his wrist. He said with a smile, "Very nice, thanks. But shouldn''t i be the one giving you jewelry?"

    Fleur looked at the beautiful ring on her finger, a stunning three-carat square stone with timeless classic charm, which had been in Elliot''s family for generations.

    "You''ve already outdone yourself in that departement with my ring," she said.

    Then, with resignation, she added, "It''s important that you never take off this bracelet, Elliot... You know how superstitious I can be, and I''d really feel better if you kept it on, at all times."

    Sensible to his beloved''s anxiety, Elliot responded, "Even though I doubt my fellow officers wont tease me for wearing this kind of jewelry, I promise you to never take it off if it makes you feel better."

    Fleur gave him a grateful smile as Elliot stood up from his chair to face her. "I''ll go now; better to be early than really late," he said.

    "Are you really, really sure?!" she insisted, making a childish like pout before adding, "I have a better idea! You could simply not work at all ! And I could support you. You know I can! Sugar mama style !You could play video games all day and go shopping! And if you''re home all the time, I might even consider renegotiating the number of children... let''s say two?"

    With a smile on his lips, Elliot planted a tender kiss on his beloved''s forehead, swiftly grabbed his jacket that was casually resting on the couch, and prepared to leave. Before exiting the apartment, Fleur gave him a light tap on the behind, teasing her fianc¨¦.

    Elliot whispered "I love you" with a charming wink, then slipped out of the apartment.

    Once the door was closed, Fleur collapsed into the chair where Elliot had been sitting just moments ago, letting her head fall heavily into her arms on the table, overwhelmed. She was drowning in worry for her beloved .

    She was finally starting to understand why Hadrian would have preferred her to move to a safer city. However, just as she had asserted to her friend that Redwaters was the only place she truly felt at home, ignoring his numerous warnings, Fleur could understand why her fianc¨¦ insisted on pursuing his career despite its inherent dangers.

    This was one of the few instances where Fleur would have preferred to be an unapologetic hypocrite and dissuade him from it. But the thought of becoming someone that could shatter the aspirations and ambitions of the man she loved scared her as much, if not more, than the thought of losing him.

    Fleur had spent months crafting the protective spell surrounding the bracelet she had given Elliot. Now magically linked to her engagement ring, the piece of jewelry had the power to change the color of the diamond on Fleur''s engagement ring to red if her beloved was ever in real danger, giving her the opportunity to come to his rescue.

    Fleur was aware that the only realistic approach to truly protect the love of her life was to reveal the truth about the mystical activities surrounding Redwaters as well as her own witch abilities. However, she was feareful that her confession could plant doubts in Elliot''s mind about the sincerity of their love, making her postpone the opportune moment to come clean every time she considered revealing her secret to him.

    Unfortunately for Fleur, the concerns weighing on her were not limited to her relationship. The enigmatic dream that had haunted her nights for more than a week now had planted a persistent anxiety within her that wouldn''t go away.

    In her dream, Fleur found herself plunged into the darkness of the night, a helpless spectator of a supernatural spectacle. The sky suddenly cracked with a deafening noise, releasing a giant and demonic spider in a mystical explosion. Hands then emerged from the ground in a frighteningly synchronized manner at various locations in the city. Flames reflected in her wide-open eyes, witnessing chaos whose meaning still eluded her. Then, a celestial vision, still in the darkness, ascended higher and higher, violently lifting Fleur from the ground, causing intense dizziness. She watched the departure of a blue flame, leaving behind a menacing triangle that stretched for tens or even hundreds of kilometers, and whose power she could feel deep within her. But what chilled her to the bone was the disembodied voice from beyond the grave that had been added to this series of disturbing images two nights ago. Resonating in her mind like a terrifying echo, its warning couldn''t have been clearer: "At the full moon, it will begin." Upon waking, Fleur grabbed her phone and called Hadrian in a panic that rendered her incoherent, asking him to come as soon as possible. Her words were almost unintelligible, mixed with the anxiety gripping her voice. The words jumbled together, forming a chaotic melody of disordered syllables, facing the urgency of the situation that was now undeniable. The full moon was scheduled for the following evening, and action needed to be taken without delay.

    After a shower that, although long, failed to dispel her troubled thoughts, Fleur quickly chose her outfit. She grabbed the first top she found in her wardrobe, a bottle green color that matched perfectly with her dark high-waisted jeans. Her beige suede boots completed the look. She quickly pulled her long red hair into an improvised ponytail, which turned out to be surprisingly successful. Despite the importance of the day, her appearance exuded a relaxed elegance, even though it wasn''t her priority at the moment.

    Fleur and Elliot''s apartment consisted of a spacious living room open to a small kitchen where the couple had just had their breakfast. The medium-sized bedroom was mainly dedicated to Fleur''s clothes, as she had taken over most of the storage spaces. The bathroom, although spacious, was overflowing with all sorts of organic beauty products, a testament to the young woman''s typical concerns. In the living room, a large vintage brown leather sofa faced a small black wooden coffee table. Nearby, a television sat on an unobtrusive compartmentalized piece of furniture, containing various items the couple couldn''t bring themselves to part with. To the right of the sofa was a large gray canvas pouf, while to the left, a small dark blue armchair, clearly worn, was covered with a lovely beige linen blanket to conceal its condition. A dark gray, long-pile rug added a warm and welcoming touch to the living room, whose decoration clearly had a masculine predominance, considering that Elliot had lived alone in the space before Fleur''s moved in.

    That''s how the two lovers had met, when Fleur had shown this very apartment to Elliot a few years earlier. The almost constant vacancy of the property, owned by her family due to her grandmother''s frequent travels out of Redwaters, had ultimately motivated her decision to rent it out before joining Hadrian and Ouray in Rome that summer.

    Elliot, who had been completely captivated by the young woman and dreaded returning to live with his mother and stepfather at the end of his college years, quickly signed the lease, investing all his savings into it. Of course, he had no idea that Fleur would depart for Europe just a few days later, separating them for long weeks when he hoped more than anything to see her again. A situation that, in the end, only increased his interest in her.

    Now that Fleur and Elliot were engaged, the young woman harbored hopes of soon making a fresh start with him in a more spacious house that would better suit their image. She had decided not to attach too much importance to the cluttered state of their current apartment, knowing they wouldn''t be there for much longer. Whenever she contemplated their future together, Fleur felt a tension in her stomach, an uncontrollable apprehension. What if their plans didn''t come to fruition? What if the looming threat managed to destroy everything, taking them down with it? As worry continued to gnaw at her, she poured herself another cup of coffee, deciding to take it with her before leaving the apartment located just above the bar she also owned.

    Fleur walked through a narrow corridor and descended the steps that separated her apartment from the spacious main room of the bar, a family inheritance, passed down through generations.

    The main room of the Creeks was shrouded in darkness, with only a few rays of light filtering through poorly closed curtains. The bar was deserted, and the chairs and tables were still stacked, patiently awaiting the start of the workday to welcome the regulars once again.

    In this silent solitude, Fleur stood in the middle of the room, immersed in an atmosphere both calm and melancholic. She paced slowly, letting her fingers graze the surfaces of tables and chairs, soaking in the soul of the place. Memories flowed, familiar faces emerged in her mind, recalling joyful moments and encounters that had marked her life.

    Despite the silence and the prevailing darkness, Fleur felt an unusual serenity. It was as if the bar, in its emptiness, offered her a moment of tranquility to reflect and reconnect with the essence of her being. The worries and doubts that had assailed her earlier seemed to fade away, giving way to deep introspection. She knew that soon, the lights would come on, the doors would open, and the Creeks would regain its usual bustle. But for now, she cherished this suspended moment, where she could contemplate the bar in all its simplicity and intimacy. Fleur let herself be guided by the gentle nostalgia that hung in the air, allowing her imagination to wander among laughter, shared stories, and precious moments that had marked this place. She felt privileged to witness the history of the Creeks, and she was determined to preserve this legacy and continue writing new pages in the book of this place steeped in magic and memories.

    Fleur followed the same path she had taken many times before, through the door hidden behind the counter. The storage room, dark and narrow, was cluttered with boxes stacked on tall metal shelves lining the walls. She grabbed the swinging string in front of her and lit the bulb hanging from the ceiling, its flickering light struggling to illuminate the room. After placing her coffee cup on a shelf, Fleur headed toward the imposing double-doored cabinet against the wall. She pulled a key from her pocket and used it to unlock the cabinet.

    Once the doors were open, she cleared the cabinet of a few boxes filled with empty bottles, placing them on the floor in front of her. Glancing quickly behind her to make sure she was indeed alone, Fleur decided to lock the room to avoid being discovered. She then positioned herself in front of the now-empty cabinet''s wide-open doors.

    Fleur retrieved her coffee cup before kneeling down and suddenly plunging into the piece of furniture, her head almost bumping against the horizontal wooden board that divided the cabinet into two parts. With her left hand, she searched for something at the bottom of the cabinet, fumbling for a few moments until she finally managed to grasp a tab. With difficulty, Fleur attempted to pull the cord upward, using all the strength in her arm, repeatedly until she succeeded. Her action abruptly raised the false bottom of the cabinet, revealing a gap in the wall. It was as if an optical illusion wooden curtain was folding back, unveiling a small hidden passage that no one could have suspected.

    The newly revealed passage led to a mysterious door, situated only a few meters in front of Fleur. The witch passed through the cabinet, rising on the other side. She closed the cabinet doors from the inside and took care to lower the tab to restore the false bottom to its original appearance. With her coffee mug still in hand, she squeezed through the narrow passage, clearly accustomed to this routine. The darkness of the small tunnel with its red brick walls forced her to use the light from her cell phone to guide her.

    As she approached the entrance to her secret hideaway, Fleur was struck with shock upon noticing that the door was slightly ajar. A shiver ran through her body as she cautiously advanced towards the room, overwhelmed by a multitude of questions racing through her mind.

    Fleur''s heart pounded in her chest as she pondered the slightly open door. How could she have forgotten it? Was she so preoccupied or distracted that she hadn''t noticed that it wasn''t properly closed? Who could have discovered her hiding place? Was it Elliot, or was it related to her nightmare?

    She took a moment to regain her composure, thinking that perhaps her caffeine overdose was making her paranoid. Despite her nervousness, she pushed the door open with determination and entered. The room, plunged in darkness, was suddenly illuminated, revealing Ouray comfortably seated in an armchair, the soft light from a small lamp illuminating his impassive face. Surprised, Fleur let go of her cup, which, before shattering, started to float a few inches above the floor, as if controlled by Ouray''s hand, which then made it fly to him with disconcerting ease.

    Fleur, breathless, one hand on her chest, shaken by the surprise, finally exclaimed, "My God, Ray! You almost gave me a heart attack!"

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    Ray, a smirk on his lips, replied, "An experienced witch like you living in a town like this, and not a single protective spell on this place?! I''m disappointed." He took a sip from the cup he now held in his hands, then furrowed his brow before continuing, "I was hoping it would be a bit stronger... Disappointments keep piling up today."

    Fleur looked at him, incredulous. "It''s not even ten in the morning, Ray!"

    Ouray then shrugged with an ironic smile. "I''ve spent the last few centuries babysitting the least fun cursed immortal on Earth. My mantra for a while now is that it''s always noon somewhere!"

    Fleur couldn''t help but smile, relieved to see her friend. She rushed to him as he got up to embrace her as well. Their brief hug restored a semblance of calm in Fleur, a feeling that her nightmares had managed to take away. Ouray was not just a friend; he was a fatherly figure for Fleur, who had been deprived of her own father''s presence. He had imparted knowledge even more precious than her grandmother Darcey''s, teaching her the mysteries of magic and how to cultivate and master her powers. It was during her adolescence, a few years after the tragedy of her mother Carolina''s death, that Fleur had discovered her true witch nature. Ouray''s comforting presence had been an invaluable support for her during that dark period, helping her navigate those difficult times.

    The secret room they were in had an atmosphere that was both intimate and elegant. Despite its modest size, it was tastefully furnished, reminiscent of the charm of a small living room. A powder pink sofa and a sky-blue velvet armchair offered cozy comfort. The floor was adorned with a large Persian rug in rich shades of brown, gold, and green, occupying a significant portion of the space. The soft, warm light came from a Tiffany lamp gifted by Darcey, placed on a beautiful brass side table with a dark green marble oval base. At the other end of the room, an imposing classic-style desk took up space. A more ordinary, aged metal lamp sat on it, illuminating the scattered papers. Behind the dark desk, a modern Scandinavian-inspired gray chair with light wooden legs softened the overall austere appearance. This harmonious arrangement created a balance between tradition and modernity, providing a conducive environment for reflection and concentration.

    "I missed you a lot, kid," Ouray confessed with a voice full of sincerity as he gently released Fleur from his embrace.

    His gaze then landed on the imposing corkboard, which proudly hung on the wall behind her. Newspaper clippings, carrying troubling stories of urban and peripheral disappearances, were carefully pinned to the board. Photographs of fading faces, drawings depicting esoteric symbols and demonic creatures, as well as excerpts from texts and torn pages from magic books, overlapped on this improvised investigative canvas. Amid the maze of clues, Fleur''s scribbles, testifying to her impatience to decipher the mysteries looming before her, also found their place. The thin red tape, like a labyrinthine network, connected the different elements collected by the young woman, stretching in all possible directions. The annotations drawn in red marker followed the tortuous path of the tape, sprinkled with question marks, enigmatic numbers, and various indications. The arrows, on the other hand, danced in a chaotic manner, adding even more confusion to this investigation tableau.

    Ouray, attempting to grasp the essence of this intricate web, navigated the twists and turns of the board with a mixture of admiration and frustration. Fleur had undoubtedly invested a considerable amount of time in this investigation. With a touch of sadness, he couldn''t help but remark, "You''ve definitely not been focusing on finding the perfect wedding dress recently, from what I see..."

    "Not really..." Fleur replied with a sorrowful voice. Seeing Ouray''s concerned expression, she headed to the lower drawer of her desk. She pulled out an old bottle of whiskey and generously poured a portion into the coffee cup that Ray had placed on the side table a few moments earlier. Without saying a word, she handed him the cup and positioned herself next to him, facing the corkboard.

    Ray took a long sip, letting the warmth of the drink spread through his being, then asked: "These disappearances, these strange phenomenons, and all these supernatural occurrences don''t seem to stand out from what usually happens in Redwaters. What makes you think that what''s happening now is different?"

    Fleur remained silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on the gathered clues before them. Then, in a voice filled with deep reflection, she replied, "It''s that nightmare, Ray... You know what happened to me in the past; I can''t help but take these signs very seriously..."

    The shaman placed a comforting hand on Fleur''s shoulder and gently explained, "Sometimes, a dream is just a dream, Fleur..."

    Caffeine, anxiety, and frustration reached their peak when Ray''s words echoed in the room. It was precisely Fleur''s deepest fear, having to justify that visceral intuition she was so sure of. She dreaded wasting precious time convincing Hadrian and Ouray of the urgency of the situation when they should already be immersed in their research. After all these years, she hoped that her closest friends would trust her more than Ouray seemed to at that moment.

    Fleur met Ouray''s gaze with determination and firmly declared, "I know what I''m saying, I know what I felt. Something major is about to happen, and it will start tomorrow night. I don''t know how or why, but I feel it deep within me, as a certainty! You were the first to teach me to trust my instincts; now is the time to trust me."

    Ouray took a moment to absorb Fleur''s newfound confidence, a proud smile appearing on his face despite the gravity of the situation. "Fleur, we got here in record time, much faster than your usual morning routine. We''ve set aside about ten matters, some of them of crucial importance, without caring about the Order or even your grandmother... We wouldn''t be here if we didn''t take you seriously."

    Fleur''s face softened, a feeling of relief mixed with gratitude washing over her. How could she have doubted her closest friends? She regained her composure and looked at Ouray, finally revealing, "I really don''t know where to start anymore, Ray... I''m completely lost. Any ideas?"

    Ouray fell into a brief silence, thinking intensely about all the elements Fleur had presented earlier. He was searching for an approach, a starting point for their actions. Finally, he announced, "We need to go to the source. If something is going to happen tomorrow night, we need to know where it will occur. We need to perform a locating spell."

    "I have just the thing for that!" Fleur exclaimed, radiating with the idea of finally having a lead to follow.

    The witch took a determined step toward her desk, sweeping away the scattered papers that littered the surface with a resolute gesture, revealing a giant map of Redwaters that had been buried beneath this sea of documents. Fleur carefully placed it on the floor, on the rug. With a swift motion, she opened a drawer, extracting small vials containing mysterious liquids, as well as a pouch filled with magical herbs.

    As she prepared the initial steps of the spell, Fleur suddenly looked at Ouray as if she had remembered something crucial and asked him, "But where is Hadrian?"

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Hadrian briskly ascended the grand double staircase, crossing the doors of his colonial mansion''s immense living room. Without slowing down, he strode determinedly through the room, heading straight to its end to reach the imposing bay window. The veil of heavy curtains that concealed it was torn aside with a confident gesture, allowing the sunlight to finally penetrate the space.

    A brilliant light bathed his face, finally dispelling the grayness that had enveloped the city until now. Hadrian took a moment to savor the gentle caress of the sun''s rays on his skin, soaking in the comforting warmth. At that moment, the sun evoked in him the ancient myth of vampires, reminding him of how their fate filled him with compassion. He found himself considering their curse as infinitely more challenging to overcome than his own, momentarily putting his own condition into perspective. Creatures deprived of daylight like this, condemned to live in eternal darkness, he simply wouldn''t have survived.

    A true aesthete, in his over five hundred years of existence, Hadrian had had the privilege of beholding a multitude of beauties in all their forms. Yet, in his eyes, nothing surpassed the splendor of a sunny day like this one. It far exceeded the magnificence of the masterpieces adorning his walls, the unique jewels he possessed or had once bestowed upon those he deemed worthy of wearing them. Even the architectural perfection of his meticulously designed mansion, stone by stone, every detail to his liking, couldn''t compete with this dazzling light bathing the world.

    Hadrian got lost in his thoughts, gazing at the neglected landscape outside the window. The once-beautiful garden was now overrun with neglect. Memories of a bygone era resurfaced, reminding Hadrian of his immortal nature and the tragic consequences of his past actions. The fallen leaves littering his garden seemed to symbolize the regrets weighing on him, errors he could never erase.

    The mansion was shrouded in a silent sadness. Dust had accumulated on the furniture and objects, bearing witness to the lack of maintenance. The rooms echoed with the silence of oblivion, a constant reminder of the mistakes that had marked his eternal life.

    Despite it all, this was where he had to confront his inner demons, in this place that was both his sanctuary and his prison. Returning home meant facing the consequences of his past and finding a way to reconcile with the horrors he had committed. It was a constant reminder of his tormented nature and the solitude that accompanied it.

    Hadrian knew he could never fully forgive himself, but perhaps in the quiet of these familiar walls, he would find some semblance of peace and redemption. He had to confront his past, accept his mistakes, and find a way to move forward, even if it meant living with the constant memory of his sins.

    This introspective dive into the past brought forth echoes of distant gunshots, gradually approaching, almost invading his ears. Then came screams, initially muffled but crescendoing, pounding his head and triggering a rapidly intensifying migraine. The infernal tumult ended abruptly, as abruptly as it had begun. Hadrian was accustomed to these episodes. He took a deep breath, somewhat calming the frantic beating of his heart, and rushed to the ground floor bathroom.

    Facing the large Victorian mirror above the sink, he observed his sweaty reflection, then splashed cold water on his face in an attempt to regain his composure. When he looked up again and reopened his eyes to look at himself, the mirror in front of him was now smeared with a message written in blood letters. "You did this." Hadrian recoiled in shock, taken aback by what he saw. Voices suddenly began whispering the same accusations to him as those written on the mirror. "You did this," "It''s your fault," "You did it!"

    Terror seized him as he tried to understand the origin of these accusatory messages. Screams resonated in Hadrian''s mind again, growing louder, deafening, filling every corner of his consciousness. He desperately tried to shield his ears from this unbearable tumult, but the voices seemed to come from within him, plunging his mind into infernal chaos. The mental turmoil was relentless, and the inquisitive voices threatened to overwhelm him, to plunge him into the darkest madness. Unable to find an escape, Hadrian collapsed on the bathroom floor, clutching his head, panting and sweating, wracked by spasms, utterly powerless.

    In a frenzied gesture, he grabbed the pill bottle from the depths of his pants pocket and clumsily popped the lid, spilling much of its contents onto the floor. With trembling hands, he hastily swallowed several pills, hoping their effect would finally calm his tormented mind.

    Gradually, the voices began to fade, turning into whispers and then slowly fading away. Hadrian attempted to rise, leaning on the sink, but the terrifying episode seemed to have multiplied his strength, and in an involuntary movement, he tore the sink from the wall, losing his balance and falling to the ground once again. His head struck the ground violently, splitting his eyebrow open in a bloody explosion that spread over the white marble in a crimson burst.

    Hadrian''s vision blurred more and more, and despite his efforts to regain his senses, he succumbed to the encroaching unconsciousness, plunging into the depths of the unknown.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    In the secret chamber, a candle placed on a pedestal cast its feeble glow, barely illuminating the focused faces of Ouray and Fleur. Sitting cross-legged, they faced each other, engrossed in the study of the map of Redwaters spread out before them. The flickering candlelight mingled with the scent of sage incense, creating a mystical atmosphere.

    "You already know how it works," Ouray said softly, recalling the many magical training sessions they had shared. Then he continued, "To succeed in a location spell, we need a starting point. But since we have little information about the place we''re looking for, our options are limited for establishing a connection. Do you remember anything about the locations in your dream?" asked the Shaman while tracing a circle of sage smoke around them.

    "Nothing concrete. A clearing, I think..." Fleur replied uncertainly.

    "But there are several in the vicinity; it''s not very specific," she added with a hint of frustration at not being able to provide more information.

    "Are you sure there aren''t any distinctive features? No bodies of water, familiar sounds?" Ouray insisted.

    Fleur closed her eyes, delving into her memories, but opened them a few moments later, finally admitting, "No, absolutely nothing."

    "As I told you, without a starting point, blindly casting the spell would be utterly futile," Ouray reluctantly declared, realizing they were once again at an impasse.

    "Not necessarily blindly... we could use my nightmare. Through me, it might be possible," Fleur replied, her eyes sparkling as if she had an idea.

    "But you just told me that you don''t remember any significant details about the place we''re looking for..." Ouray objected. Fleur bit her lip, seemingly anticipating the reaction her suggestion might provoke.

    "When I''m awake, I have no useful memories, but if you could access my dream through my subconscious..." she said.

    Ouray''s expression, previously serene, abruptly changed upon hearing these words. "I''ll stop you right there!" he exclaimed before continuing with concern, "What you''re talking about is not only theoretical but incredibly complex. Entering your subconscious to try to access your nightmare would be extremely dangerous! Not to mention the risks of rekindling horrific memories in you..." he said, clearly worried about the inherent uncertainties of such a ritual.

    "I know, Ray, but I''m no longer a little girl disturbed by..." Fleur tried to convince, hoping she had overcome her childhood traumas enough to engage in such an attempt.

    "This could take a very dark turn, Fleur..." he interrupted her. "Such an experience could open the door to much graver ills than the problem we were originally trying to solve! The mind is far too fragile for us to enter it without serious consequences," he concluded, expressing his deep concerns about Fleur''s dangerous suggestion.

    "We need to find a solution quickly, Ray..." Fleur implored, aware of the urgency of the situation.

    Ouray thought for a moment, seeking an alternative. "Then we should seek help. Try to see things from a different perspective. Perhaps if we explore the surroundings of the town, you might naturally remember the place," he suggested, hoping to reason with her.

    "You know Redwaters better than anyone. It would be impossible for us to traverse all the forests and clearings in less than 24 hours," she argued.

    Ouray shook his head determinedly. "In that case, we will find something else. Another spell, a less risky approach," he declared, refusing to give in.

    "We don''t have the luxury of waiting any longer," she reminded him, her expression grave. Time was of the essence, and they had to act quickly.

    "We could try a hypnosis ritual. It''s less dangerous and more targeted," he suggested, hoping to convince her to change her approach.

    Fleur remained impassive. "You know very well that a hypnosis ritual requires several attempts; it''s almost equivalent to magical therapy. We would need months before we even get a glimpse of a result," she insisted.

    "My answer remains no, Fleur. I refuse to be part of something so dangerous," Ouray finally declared firmly. He didn''t want to take reckless risks, even though time was running out.

    "Ray, these nightmares are eating me alive... They''re affecting my relationship, my life, my mental health... If you won''t help me, I''ll perform the spell myself," the young woman simply stated, visibly at her wit''s end.

    "But you absolutely need an anchor point; doing it alone would be practically... it would be suicide," he retorted, alarmed by her words.

    "I''m aware of the risks," Fleur said, feigning determination even though she was terrified by the idea of this experience.

    "Hadrian would never agree to this," Ray pointed out.

    "Hadrian doesn''t have the power to decide for me; the choice is mine," Fleur reminded him, having always refused to let someone else control her life and not intending to start today.

    "This is plain and simple blackmail, Fleur. You know I''ll never let you attempt such a ritual on your own," her mentor protested, his voice betraying his anxiety.

    "Then let''s do it together; it''s the only way you can watch over me and make sure I come back," she proposed, trying to find a compromise.

    Ray thought for a moment, frustrated and cornered by this exchange. He gave Fleur a disapproving look and suddenly recognized the fear she was trying to hide from him in her eyes. He sighed, touched by her distress, and regained some of his composure. Then he handed her the improvised Irish coffee cup she had offered him earlier. Fleur took a big gulp to bolster her courage, grimacing at the strong dose. He understood that he wouldn''t be able to convince her to give up on this ritual, no matter how compelling his arguments might be. Fleur had made her decision, and all he could do was accompany her, hoping to be able to help her if things went awry.

    Ray took a deep breath and stood up, positioning himself behind Fleur, placing his open hands on either side of her head, just a few millimeters from her temples.

    "Close your eyes," he ordered.

    Fleur complied.

    "Locate futurae in somnium," Ouray recited confidently.

    A few seconds passed in complete silence.

    Suddenly, Fleur''s head was violently thrown backward, her eyes rolled up. The candle flame flickered before burning more intensely, almost reaching the ceiling. Ouray''s head quickly underwent the same fate as Fleur''s; his eyes turned white, and his skull was thrown backward. A terrifying tableau that meant only one thing: the connection had finally been established.

    Ouray found himself plunged into total darkness. A red-haired girl in pajamas bumped into him before running away, disappearing like a ghost into the surrounding darkness. Ouray cautiously moved forward in the gloom, aware of the danger that even the slightest clumsiness could pose to Fleur in the real world. The little girl in pajamas reappeared in front of him, an adorable version of young Fleur. She took Ouray''s hand, and together they moved forward. Images flashed before them and then disappeared again into nothingness. Ray was able to see the triangle of blue flames from Fleur''s nightmare reforming in front of him, followed by a portal splitting the sky and releasing a horrifying spider, similar to the one in the witch''s nightmare. He instinctively shielded himself as the creature leaped toward them. Pulling young Fleur towards him, they crouched into a defensive position, but the creature disappeared like a ghost just before reaching them.

    Rain began to pour harder and harder on Ouray and young Fleur. Soaked to the bone, the shaman could barely make out the voice of a young man calling for help in the distance. A visceral feeling overcame him, urging him to go to the person''s aid. He tried to concentrate to hear more, but the noise abruptly ceased.

    Young Fleur suddenly approached him and firmly announced, "You have to go back."

    Ouray tried to convince her by holding her hand tightly, determined not to let her go.

    "We''ve seen enough, Fleur. We need to go back together," he pleaded.

    But Fleur remained unyielding. She quickly broke free from his grasp and started running, disappearing into the darkness without looking back.

    Ouray tried to call her, to shout her name to stop her, but his words were lost in the surrounding emptiness. He anxiously looked around, hoping to see her reappear, but there was only the oppressive void that surrounded him, intensifying his distress.

    Ouray''s eyes suddenly snapped open. He woke up with difficulty, out of breath, back in his own body, in the secret chamber. Ray then rushed to Fleur, lying unconscious on the floor. He tried to wake her by gently shaking her, calling her name repeatedly, but she showed no signs of waking up.

    Fleur wasn''t in a dream; she was reliving a horrible memory. The memory of the night when her life had taken a turn after a nightmare she had. She was barely eight years old when images of her mother, terrified, running away from something or someone, abruptly woke her.

    Getting out of her kid bed, Fleur slowly made her way to the window as raindrops began to bead on the glass. Through it, she watched for a moment as the garden lay shrouded in oppressive darkness before hastily leaving her room. Fleur nervously opened the door to her mother''s room to make sure she was sleeping there, but her bed was empty. The window in the middle of the room was wide open, its white curtains floating ghostly in the sinister moonlight, while the shutters slammed violently under the menacing thunderclaps, and the rain hammered the ground with increasing intensity outside.

    Fleur hurriedly descended the stairs, feeling urgency pushing her toward the back door of the house that opened to the garden. Her bare feet sliding on the wooden steps, accentuating her haste. One last time, she froze, gripped by terror, listening to the thunder resonating in the night''s darkness. Her heart raced in her chest as she grabbed the door handle and opened it abruptly.

    Without further ado, she rushed outside, facing the pelting rain that slapped her violently. Her bare feet sank into the sodden ground as she ran, indifferent to the raging elements around her. The roaring wind swept her hair, and she passed the fence in a desperate leap, leaving the small wooden gate wide open, marking the limits of their property.

    The little girl had an instinctive sense of where she was headed. Her steps led her to a narrow asphalt path that plunged into the adjacent woods. As she ventured deeper into the darkness of the forest, the ground turned into slippery mud clinging to her feet. Her long, red, rain-soaked hair clung to her face, but she remained undeterred. Despite her growing breathlessness and the near blindness caused by the pitch-black night, the determination of the little girl did not waver. However, in a moment of clumsiness, Fleur stumbled over a branch hidden among the dead leaves, causing her to fall forward and crash heavily into the mud.

    Pain overtook her entire body as the frigid cold penetrated her to the bone, her soaked clothes accentuating the terrible sensation. With difficulty, Fleur lifted her head, wiped the mud from her face with the sleeve of her pajamas, and tried to make out what layed ahead of her. Her vision, initially blurred, gradually cleared, revealing the silhouette of her mother lying just a few meters away.

    "Mom?" she whispered, both worried and troubled.

    Fleur jumped to her feet and rushed to her mother, kneeling beside her. Carolina had her eyes open, but her face was motionless. Blood seeped slightly from her mouth, but more abundantly from a wound on her abdomen, staining her white blouse a gruesome red. Fleur tried to wake her by hugging and shaking her, but nothing seemed to bring her back to life. Her mother was indeed dead in those woods.

    The little girl, covered in her mother''s blood, gently placed Carolina''s lifeless head on her lap, embracing her lifeless body, crying and screaming uncontrollably, pleading for help under the fury of the storm.

    Fleur had never felt such terror or pain in her life, even though, due to her young age, she didn''t fully understand the horror of the scene playing out before her. When this tragedy occurred, Fleur had stayed for hours, embracing her mother''s lifeless body in the freezing cold, until a nearby jogger discovered her and finally called for help and the police. But something was different in this memory or dream in which she was now immersed. Fleur felt her mother''s body move slightly, breathing laboriously on her lap. She fixed her gaze on Carolina''s face, shocked to see her slowly regaining consciousness, and whispered softly to her:

    "It''s going to begin, my dear... Open your eyes!"

    Fleur woke up abruptly, trying to catch her breath in a panicked gasp as she layed on the floor of her secret chamber. A little further away, Ouray hastily flipped through an occult grimoire, desperately searching for a solution to bring her back to reality. He closed the book and rushed over to the young woman, relief in his voice as he said:

    "Thank goodness, you''re awake! What happened?"

    "I think my mother was trying to give me a message..." the witch replied, still shaken by what she had just experienced.

    Ouray took her hand and tried to reassure her: "The subconscious is a mysterious and complex place; it contains our nightmares, but also our hopes and dreams..."

    "No, trust me, it was nothing like a dream!" Fleur corrected before continuing, "I was reliving exactly the night of her death, everything was the same, the cold, every step, every thunderclap... But this time, it was as if she had managed to pass me a message."

    "What was that message?" Ouray asked, eager to learn more.

    "She said it was going to begin, that I had to open my eyes!" Fleur repeated, perplexed by her mother''s enigmatic statement.

    " Was it literal? as in to wake up from the ritual, or more broadly?" Ouray inquired, trying to pierce the mystery.

    "I didn''t have the time to explore it with her..." Fleur replied sarcastically, still reeling from the experience.

    "I apologize, I didn''t mean to..." Ouray began, confused.

    "And what if she''s trying to send me a message? What if she''s trying to lead me to her killer or warn us of the danger that awaits?" the young woman interrupted, highly agitated.

    "Fleur, try to calm down..." Ouray attempted to reason with her.

    "You don''t understand, Ray, it''s the first time since that night that I''ve received a message from her! No one knows what happened to her or the circumstances of her death... If she''s trying to tell me something, I have to try to find out more!" Fleur declared with determination.

    Carolina''s death remained an unsolved mystery, despite numerous investigations and significant resources deployed to solve the case.

    "Well, if that''s indeed the case, I have both good and bad news for you," Ouray announced.

    Fleur looked at him, fearing the worst, until Ray continued, "I warned you that this type of spell could have consequences. I did some research while you were unconscious, and one common side effect of this kind of rituals, is that both of us are at risk of being randomly thrust back into your subconscious over the next few days."

    "What?!" Fleur panicked, not having fully recovered from the already unsettling first experience.

    "The positive side is that if your mother is really trying to send you a message, you''ll have a better chance of intercepting it by going back," Ouray added, trying to find a silver lining in the situation.

    Fleur didn''t know what to think anymore. She was mentally exhausted, and the idea of reliving a similar experience didn''t appeal to her. Ouray was right; performing this spell wasn''t her brightest idea, but the slim possibility that this perilous journey might have allowed her mother to finally communicate with her filled her with unexpected hope.

    "Did the location spell work at least?" Fleur suddenly remembered, concerned.

    Ouray then picked up the map of Redwaters that he had placed on the desk to show Fleur. A point marked on the map was clearly burned, leaving a charred hole.

    "That''s where what''s supposed to happen will begin, at tomorrow''s full moon," Ouray confirmed, staring at the point on the map with Fleur.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    "Samuels, you''re treating us to a round at The Creeks to celebrate your first day!" Oliver exclaimed with enthusiasm, addressing Elliott as they were getting ready to leave the police station.

    "That''s his fianc¨¦e''s bar, Oliver. I''d say a minimum of two rounds!" Nina chimed in, joining them and positioning herself between the two men.

    Elliott had met them some time ago during his police training and probation period, and an instant camaraderie had formed between them. Oliver, a thirty-two-year-old redhead, had an imposing presence, but beneath his rugged exterior lay great clumsiness and a certain shyness. As for Nina, twenty-eight years old, she was an enchanting mixed-race woman with captivating charm, an outgoing personality, and boundless energy.

    That day, Elliott was surprised by the light-hearted atmosphere at the police station. He almost attributed this change in mood to the lucky charm given to him earlier by Fleur, despite his usual skepticism. The reports filed at the police station were limited to minor thefts and missing pets. A few calls also reported the presence of wolves roaming in town, possibly explaining the mysterious pet disappearances.

    "This morning, when I arrived, I saw a man I''d never seen in town before getting into his vintage car, very, very sexy! And I''m talking about him, not just the car! Rumor has it he''s the owner of the mansion on the outskirts of Redwaters. I genuinely hope he''ll be at the bar tonight!" Nina declared, a radiant smile lighting up her face at the prospect of running into Hadrian at The Creeks, while Oliver suddenly seemed uncomfortable with her comments.

    Elliott took a moment to consider their proposition before relenting, "Well, why not! A first day deserves to be celebrated!"

    As they headed for the exit, a couple of officers passed them by. Oliver, in a cheerful mood, extended an invitation to them, "Are you coming for a drink with us? Samuels is treating!"

    Frank, appearing interested, was about to respond, but before he could utter a word, Marcy pulled him away by his jacket, apologizing to the group, "Sorry, but we have three kids, including two teenagers!"

    The couple walked away, with Frank being scolded by Marcy, who appeared quite spirited. The trio, absorbed in this comical scene, didn''t immediately notice that the Sheriff had arrived behind them and was eavesdropping on their conversation.

    Suddenly, in a deep voice that almost made them jump, he commented from behind, "And what about me? No one''s inviting me?!"

    Elliott, Oliver, and Nina turned to Tucker, slightly embarrassed. The Sheriff was looking at them, his usual stern expression still plastered on his face. Nina couldn''t help but think that he seemed literally incapable of displaying any other facial expression, not even a hint of positivity.

    Elliott broke the awkward silence by attempting to justify himself, "I didn''t think you''d be interested; we never see you there."

    Tucker, in a firm tone, asserted, "I don''t like crowds."

    Elliott tried to persuade him, "You could make an exception, you know."

    But the Sheriff remained unwavering, "No. And as for you, be careful. The town is more dangerous than you think, Lieutenant Samuels," he concluded before walking away toward his office.

    As the trio prepared to leave, Tucker paused halfway and added, "And above all, be cautious. The mansion you were talking about earlier has a sinister reputation..." he warned them, paying no heed to their reaction.

    "What do you mean?" Nina asked, intrigued by his words.

    The Sheriff had already returned to his office and was closing the door, ignoring the question. The three colleagues looked at each other, taken aback by the unsettling exchange.

    "He gives me the creeps," Elliott admitted, suddenly aware of Tucker''s disconcerting behavior.

    "We''ve been working with him for three years, Nina and I, and he still has the same effect on us..." Oliver added.

    "It''s more him that has a sinister reputation, if you ask me..." Nina remarked, recalling Tucker''s strange behavior and the numerous rumors circulating about him.

    The trio left the police station, troubled and increasingly perplexed by the mysteries that seemed to hide behind the Sheriff''s impassive fa?ade.

    Meanwhile, in his dimly lit office, Tucker was restless. The balding fifty-year-old man, with an imposing presence, paced the room heavily, a worried expression on his face. Suddenly, he came to a halt, his eyes fixed on a drawer in his desk. His brows furrowed even further as he approached, anticipation gleaming in his eyes. With a swift motion, he emptied a pile of inconsequential papers onto his desk, paying little attention to the growing disorder.

    At the bottom of the drawer, hidden beneath the insignificant documents, was an old rusted metal box containing Tucker''s darkest secrets. He opened it carefully, extracting a stack of red folders, each labeled with the names of individuals who piqued his interest. With the tips of his fingers, he brushed over the various labels, hesitating for a moment before settling on the folder bearing the inscription: "Fleur Willard." A sly smile crossed his face momentarily, but he quickly put it back, choosing instead to pick up the folder labeled: "Hadrian Archer."

 Chapter 2

    The Creeks at night offered a lively atmosphere, a far cry from the tranquility of the empty room Fleur had traversed earlier in the morning. Human warmth had taken over the place, with about thirty people gathered, scattered throughout the different sections of the bar.

    A group of high school students, two girls and three boys, laughed heartily while competing in a game of pool. Not far from them, two other buddies, wearing their high school rugby team jackets, engaged in an epic foosball match.

    Families and couples enjoyed the evening, savoring a quiet meal accompanied by a glass of wine, while others were captivated by the game playing on the screens, their eyes fixed on the action, a beer within reach. The atmosphere was both relaxed and passionate, filled with animated conversations, laughter, and intermittent cheers from fans fired up by the game.

    Although there was no live music group on the stage that evening, a carefully selected playlist of 90s pop-rock songs wafted through the air, creating a sonic backdrop that harmoniously blended with the laughter and exchanges of the patrons. The Creeks was the stage for a true symphony of intertwined lives, a bubble of energy and conviviality that lent this evening a unique and vibrant atmosphere.

    Fleur sat at the bar, lost in her dark thoughts, while Joe, the anchor of The Creeks, served her an amber shot.

    Joe was much more than just a bartender; he was the keeper of secrets, the discreet protector of Redwaters. A true master of the trade, he knew all the intricacies of the business. He knew how to handle suppliers, maintain order among customers and servers, and even persuade renowned celebrities to perform on their stage. Fleur had never truly grasped the extent of Joe''s knowledge about the occult world surrounding them in Redwaters. Yet, seeing him navigate this town for decades, she couldn''t help but think he must be aware that something was evidently amiss. The middle-aged man, with dark skin, was a respected and influential figure in Redwaters. The young woman downed her shot in one gulp, seeking momentary relief. Then, she placed the empty glass in front of Joe silently.

    Joe, in his usual kindness, asked her, "Rough day?"

    "You don''t even know, Joe!" Fleur replied, disheartened.

    Without hesitation, Joe poured her another shot. But as he was about to tend to other customers vying for his attention, his gaze lifted toward the bar''s entrance. Someone had just arrived. A smile formed on Joe''s face as he whispered to Fleur, "I''m sure it''s nothing a drink with an old friend can''t fix..."

    Fleur, catching Joe''s expression, turned her head toward the bar''s entrance, where someone had just walked in. Hadrian.

    He was there, dressed more casually than when he first arrived but no less elegant, in a gray t-shirt that accentuated his sculpted muscles, dark jeans that highlighted his figure, and a brown suede jacket that added a stylish touch to his look. His brow wound, which had been visible earlier, had miraculously disappeared, leaving no trace of the violence he had endured.

    Fleur couldn''t help but smile as she saw him approach, his eyes sparkling with a familiar gleam. She greeted him cheerfully, "I was beginning to wonder if you''d ever show up!"

    Hadrian returned her smile, his gaze revealing a deep camaraderie. They were bound by something stronger than words could express, a connection forged in the trials and mysteries of Redwaters.

    Emotionally moved by their reunion, Hadrian affectionately embraced the young woman. A teasing look lit up his eyes as he remarked, "Fleur Willard giving me a lecture about being late; not even eternal life prepared me for this!" He joked before turning to Joe and shaking his hand in greeting.

    Joe, with a quick gesture, already pointed to Fleur''s shot and asked, "Same thing, Hadrian?"

    "Better leave the bottle, Joe," the immortal said in a relaxed tone, convinced that a few drinks would be welcome after this particularly trying day.

    Joe placed a shot and a bottle of J?ger in front of Hadrian. He thanked him with a nod and took a seat on the vacant stool next to Fleur, while Joe was already moving away to attend to other customers at the far end of the bar.

    Hadrian picked up the bottle, started by refilling Fleur''s glass before filling his own, and then clinked glasses with her. The two friends downed their drinks in a quick and synchronized manner. Fleur grimaced slightly, already feeling the alcohol rising to her head, while Hadrian promptly poured another round.

    "I spoke to Ouray, and he told me what happened," he announced to Fleur in a more serious tone.

    "And are you going to give me a lecture about my reckless actions?" asked Fleur, already weary of the prospect of a sermon just as she was beginning to relax.

    Hadrian raised an eyebrow in response. "Because that''s worked on you before?"

    Fleur let out a relieved smile, sensing the irony in her friend''s remark, as Hadrian gently placed his hand on her shoulder, expressing his concern. He asked her softly, "How are you feeling?"

    "Drained," she admitted. "Drained and even more lost than I was yesterday."

    Hadrian nodded empathetically, understanding the depth of her emotions. He was there for her, ready to listen and help her through these challenging times. "Let''s try to tackle one problem at a time, okay?" he reassured her in a soothing voice before adding, "The good news is that the location spell worked. We know where to go tomorrow to try to stop the impending catastrophe. As for the rest, we''ll find a solution and deal with it in due time, alright?"

    "Does that mean you''re planning to stay a bit longer this time?" Fleur asked, seeking a glimmer of hope in Hadrian''s words.

    Hadrian took a deep breath, his eyes locked onto hers, and he replied, "As long as it takes."

    A sense of relief washed over Fleur as she smiled at him, grateful for the support his presence provided. She placed her hand on his, expressing her gratitude.

    "And how''s Darcey?" Fleur asked as she poured herself another shot.

    Hadrian let out a slight chuckle. "As feisty as ever."

    "Irritable? Unreasonable?" Fleur inquired, well aware of her grandmother''s spirited personality.

    "If I told you about the last mission she assigned to Ouray and me on behalf of the Order, you''d quickly see that unreasonable is clearly an understatement!" Hadrian replied.

    Fleur burst into laughter, already imagining the trouble her grandmother had likely gotten the two men into.

    At the bar''s entrance stood Elliott, Oliver, and Nina, observing the scene from a distance. Elliott was red with jealousy. Who was this man with whom Fleur was speaking so comfortably and naturally? Had she really just placed her hand on his? The young man tried to contain himself and rationalize when Nina interrupted his thoughts, saying, "That''s the guy I was telling you about earlier. Looks like I already have some competition."

    Elliott felt a pang of frustration in his chest, but he tried to remain calm. He knew he had to act maturely and not let jealousy take over. He took a deep breath and said tersely, "Take a table; I''ll join you..."

    Without waiting for their response, Elliott navigated through the crowd to join the duo, determined to learn more about the man who seemed to captivate Fleur''s attention.

    When he reached their side, Elliott embraced Fleur with a hint of possessiveness, his eyes fixed on Hadrian. A mixture of jealousy and challenge emanated from him, feeling threatened by the presence of this charming stranger in Fleur''s company.

    "Hello" he greeted in a dry tone, seeking to assert his presence.

    A glimmer of joy lit up Fleur''s face at the sight of Elliott. She quickly kissed him, delighted to see him again, before asking him enthusiastically, "Hey! I thought I''d find you at home! So, how was your first day?"

    Elliott, trying to conceal his discomfort, replied with a slightly strained voice, "I came to celebrate my first day with some colleagues. Am I interrupting something?"

    Hadrian observed the scene with detachment, enjoying the spectacle. Elliott''s immature reaction confirmed the significance he attached to Fleur, and that was enough to satisfy him.

    "Interrupting what?" she replied, surprised by Elliott''s reaction. Then, realizing the assumptions that might be running through his mind, she hurried to introduce them, "Oh my God! What did you think? Elliott, let me introduce you to Hadrian! Hadrian, this is Elliott!"

    Elliott''s gaze, previously filled with suspicion towards Hadrian, instantly softened.

    "Hadrian?!" he exclaimed, surprised and slightly taken aback. A smile of relief spread across Elliott''s face as he vigorously shook the immortal''s hand. Hadrian, on the other hand, found himself perplexed by the turn of events, trying to decipher this new dynamic that had just formed between them.

    "Fleur has talked so much about you, of course! She was so happy you decided to visit town again..." Elliott began, seeking to ease the tensions. His voice softened as he added, "I''m really sorry about the breakup..."

    Hadrian, growing increasingly perplexed, tried to make sense of the situation. His eyes searched for Fleur''s, but she avoided his gaze, betraying her discomfort.

    "The breakup?" Hadrian asked, perplexed, wanting answers. His eyes remained fixed on Fleur, hoping she would provide some clarity.

    Elliott continued in a conciliatory tone, "Fleur spilled the beans, but don''t be embarrassed. We''ve all been in this kind of situation. The important thing is to surround yourself with friends. I''ll let you enjoy your reunion; I don''t want to intrude."

    As Elliott was already moving away to join his colleagues, Hadrian urged Fleur to provide an explanation. His gaze was intense, filled with impatience regarding this strange situation.

    "An explanation?" he asked, fixing his eyes on hers insistently, seeking the truth.

    Fleur, visibly uncomfortable, replied in a hesitant voice, "Okay, I may have made up that you were coming back to town because you got dumped."

    "Charming," Hadrian replied sarcastically, pouring himself another shot to calm his nerves. "And may I know who supposedly broke my heart, at least?"

    "Your boyfriend..." Fleur let out these words, carefully observing Hadrian''s reaction. Her gaze displayed complete surprise, her features frozen in incomprehension.

    Silence hung heavy, charged with tension. Fleur felt her heartbeats quicken in her chest, expecting an explosion of anger or disappointment from her immortal friend. But instead of that, a glimmer of confusion passed through Hadrian''s eyes, followed by a faint enigmatic smile.

    "What did you want me to tell him, Hadrian?" she asked in a trembling voice, seeking to justify herself. "I had to get creative to explain all the times when I joined you and Ouray in your adventures around the world. I had to come up with a plausible explanation for the time we would have spent together if you had returned to town..."

    Hadrian looked at her intensely. He took a deep breath, as if carefully weighing his words.

    "So, the first thing that came to your mind was to say I''m gay and got dumped?" he finally responded, his voice tinged with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment.

    Fleur was taken aback by his reaction. "But... I just thought it would be the best excuse in that situation."

    Hadrian shook his head slightly, as if dismissing an absurd idea.

    "Believe me, Fleur, after living as long as I have, the labels and categories imposed by society lose all meaning. The experiences I''ve had have taught me not to be confined by narrow definitions. Your generation might box yourselves in with labels that try to explain everything, but it doesn''t change the true essence of who we are."

    Fleur looked at him with astonishment, a glimmer of understanding dawning in her eyes.

    "The experiences you''ve had..." she repeated, almost as if having an epiphany.

    Hadrian sighed, his face displaying a smile tinged with amusement.

    "I think it''s time to stop with the shots, Fleur. They only seem to exacerbate misunderstandings."

    A burst of laughter escaped Fleur''s lips, breaking the tension that surrounded them. She realized that her previous reaction had been based on misconceptions and prejudices, and she felt relieved to see that Hadrian wasn''t affected by the labels she had tried to assign to him.

    "I''m sorry, I just panicked!" Fleur exclaimed with a mischievous smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief at the unexpected turn of events.

    Hadrian looked at her and suggested, "You know, you could have just said that we were related or simply very good friends..."

    With a hint of amusement in her eyes, Fleur shook her head confidently.

    "You know that wouldn''t have worked. Eliott knows i don''t have much family and most people tend not to understand that you''re like a big brother to me, and that the idea of a romantic relationship between us would be... Ewww! Disgusting!"

    A sly smile played on Hadrian''s lips.

    "And I''m disgusting now? Getting better and better. Remind me why I came to help you again?"

    Then, after taking a moment to think, Hadrian suddenly seemed panicked, as if he had just realized something crucial. He gazed intensely at Fleur, seeking an answer to his question:

    "Fleur, tell me you didn''t invent, in this little imaginary scenario, that it was Ouray, my ex...?"

    At Elliot''s table, a bit farther away, Nina wore a disappointed expression, her gaze fixed on Hadrian sitting with Fleur. Oliver, on the other hand, appeared more relaxed, calmly sipping his beer.

    "I can''t believe it, the first attractive man to show up in Redwaters in three months, and he''s gay..." Nina sighed despondently.

    Elliot tried to reassure her, saying, "Don''t overreact; people often come here."

    Nina rolled her eyes, unable to tear her gaze away from Hadrian. "Have you seen the contrast between these rustic hicks hanging around here and that incredible man sitting over there? Are you sure he''s not bisexual, at least?" she asked, hoping for a positive response.

    Elliot felt a bit awkward about the situation and sought support from Oliver, but Oliver carefully avoided getting involved, preferring to focus on his drink.

    "You see, even Oliver believes it too. I''m doomed to end up alone!" Nina exclaimed dramatically.

    Suddenly, Elliot spotted someone at the other end of the bar, someone he hadn''t seen in a while. He quickly got up from the table, looking at Nina and Oliver before saying ironically, "On that cheerful note, I''ll be right back."

    Elliot headed towards the restroom area, where a pretty young Asian girl in her high school cheerleader uniform was about to enter. He placed his hand on her back, taking her by surprise. Startled, Simonne quickly turned around, instinctively letting out, "Hands off!" But when she realized it was her big brother, her annoyance turned into surprise.

    "As adorable as ever i see, little sister!" Elliot said with an ironic smile, delighted to see her. He still remembered the joy he felt when they had adopted her when she was only a few days old. Since then, he had vowed to protect her at all costs.

    "Elliot? And you''re in uniform? So, that story about joining the police was true?" Simonne asked, curious.

    "Simonne, it''s been two years that I''ve been on this path, studying, training, and undergoing training for it. You were at my graduation ceremony just three months ago," Elliot reminded her.

    Simonne seemed skeptical. "I thought you''d eventually give up. Mom always says it''s just a phase."

    Elliot sighed. "And do what instead? Follow in her third husband''s footsteps and become a corrupt politician? I don''t think so."

    A sly smile played on Simonne''s lips. Elliot had hit the mark. Their stepfather was far from trustworthy, and their mother seemed to prefer ignoring his actions while indulging in self-medication. Simonne even suspected that their stepfather used her Asian heritage to portray an image of diversity for political purposes.

    Elliot suddenly noticed the glass Simonne was holding and instinctively took it from her to check its contents, looking suspicious.

    "My god, relax! It''s just iced tea! But I admit I wish there was alcohol in it, especially here at Fleur''s bar. What would you do? Revoke her liquor license for serving a minor? I''d love to see that," Simonne teased.

    "Very funny, Simonne. I''m just concerned about you," Elliot said, worried.

    "I''ll be eighteen in a week, and if I hadn''t failed my last year because of that damn math test, I''d already be out of this lousy town, living in California. I''m not a kid anymore, Elliot. And you know damn well that when I want to drink, there''s always something at home," Simonne replied with a hint of bitterness.

    Elliot tried to ease the tension. "I know you''ve been through a tough time..."

    Simonne couldn''t help but sigh in frustration. "No, you know nothing. To truly understand, you should have put aside your cheap judgments and spent time with us, with me. Maybe then you would have had a say," she told him.

    She was frustrated by his moralizing attitude, especially after he had let his differences with their mother and her last husband negatively affect their relationship. Elliot and Simonne had always been close in the past, and with the trials she had faced in recent months, she really could have used her big brother''s support.

    Realizing she wasn''t ready for a deeper conversation, Elliot gave her a compassionate look. "Take care of yourself, okay?" he said with genuine concern. Then, he turned back to rejoin his friends.

    "Elliot?" Simonne murmured, saying his name with a touch of tenderness. Despite herself, she was happy to have run into him and touched by his concern for her. "Congratulations on your job," she added timidly.

    A smile appeared on Elliot''s face. He gave her a grateful look before heading back to his table, where his friends were already waiting. Meanwhile, Simonne was already berating the young woman who had dared to take her place in line for the restroom, all while holding onto a sense of gratitude for the brief encounter with her brother.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    The nearly full moon illuminated the sky, casting its soft glow over the dewy grass of the clearing. Ouray had finally found it after braving a particularly challenging hill to climb. Mysterious fog enshrouded the area like a nebulous scarf.

    Ouray, out of breath, had arrived at the location indicated by the tracking spell he had previously performed with Fleur. He could have guessed it. This clearing overlooked the Redwaters River. It was evident that if something grave were to occur, this tragedy would certainly unfold around this cursed area.

    Indeed, it was this river''s sinister history that had given the town its name, as its once crystal-clear waters tragically mixed with an abundance of blood, giving it a completely red hue. Redwaters had thus become the town''s name, so that survivors would never forget the tragedy that had occurred there.

    Of course, this story remained unknown to the younger generations and tourists, and even though Ouray would have preferred to share obliviousness, but the vivid memory of that terrible day remained etched in his mind, centuries later, as an unforgettable reminder of the horror he had witnessed.

    Not far from the river, about a hundred meters away, stood the entrance to Redwaters'' enchanted woods, another place steeped in history. These woods, known for their magical powers, exerted an irresistible attraction on all sorts of supernatural creatures. Over the years, some decided to settle there, while others passed through on pilgrimage, coexisting peacefully for the most part. Hadrian and Ouray had carefully preserved this fragile balance through stormy negotiations and a few subterfuges, thus keeping this place hidden from human eyes.

    Access to the woods was blocked by a metal fence, and several warning signs surrounded the area, displaying alarming messages such as "Toxic Waste," "Radioactive Particles," and "Danger." A persistent rumor in town spoke of an illegal pharmaceutical laboratory whose chemical stock had exploded several years ago, spreading deadly poison in the vicinity. This story had successfully kept the townsfolk and campers away from the area.

    Ouray and Hadrian, of course, were the masterminds behind this fa?ade, which had so far seemed to work, with a few exceptions...

    Ouray carefully surveyed the surroundings, but he found only silence and the damp chill of the night to keep him company. He would return tomorrow with Hadrian and Fleur, ready to intervene to prevent the threat that had forced them back to town from coming to fruition. But tonight, he would discover nothing more, he thought.

    As he quietly turned back, mentally reviewing the information he had gathered from Fleur''s subconscious to better prepare for the next day, Ouray was starteld by the sound of a series of gunshots in the distance. Moments later, the gunshots became more frequent, breaking the silence of the night. The shaman immediately recognized the sound of a rifle. Hastening his pace, he descended the hill he had climbed a few minutes earlier, reaching the main road he had come by.

    Suddenly, he heard the violent screech of tires as a car sped away in the distance. As he approached, he saw two red taillights fading into the thick fog of the road. What had just happened? Hunting in such weather and at night would have been unthinkable for anyone.

    The answers to all these questions quickly and tragically found their echo. As Ouray continued towards the road, he discovered the bodies of four white wolves lying in a pool of their own blood. A profound sense of sadness washed over him as he approached, a helpless witness to this senseless violence.

    These wolves were peaceful, having never posed a threat to anyone. Ouray had grown up regarding them with respect, raised with the belief that they were benevolent and protective allies. Despite the dangers he had faced throughout his life, nothing could shake his heart as much as the sight of these innocent creatures cruelly shot down.

    Emotion welled up inside the shaman as he knelt near each wolf, sadly confirming their demise. The first three had succumbed to fatal shots, but the last one was still suffering, struggling in unbearable agony. A bullet had penetrated its skull, and Ouray was stunned that the animal could still breathe after such a wound.

    Kneeling beside the poor creature, Ouray wished desperately that he could save it. These wolves had watched over Redwaters for generations, never harming humans. No explanation could justify such an unjust and brutal act.

    Ouray gently placed his trembling hands over the wounded animal, an otherworldly white light radiating from his hands onto the suffering creature. The wolf abruptly stopped struggling, gradually finding peace, and it cast one last grateful look at him before closing its eyes forever.

    A silent tear rolled down Ouray''s cheek as he rose to his feet a few steps from the roadside, surrounded by the lifeless bodies of the slaughtered wolves. He knew, with growing certainty, that this atrocity was the work of a human being. And he also knew, with burning determination, that he would do everything in his power to avenge this barbaric act in some way, thus honoring the memory of these magnificent creatures.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    In the ground-floor bathroom of the mansion, just down the stairs, Hadrian was attempting to repair the sink he had inadvertently torn from the wall during the violent episode he had gone through earlier. The white marble was still stained with his own blood.

    He had expected to find Ouray already home, given the late hour at which he had returned himself. Initially, Hadrian had made sure that Elliot carried Fleur to their apartment, considering the state of intoxication the young witch had been in when they parted earlier. The immortal thought with a smile that it was fortunate that the witch lived above the Creeks, recalling the image of the redhead, completely drunk, mistaking Elliot for her grandmother.

    The evening had at least served to take their minds off things, Hadrian thought with a sigh. It was then that, suddenly, he saw Ouray''s reflection covered in blood and mud from head to toe appear in the mirror above the sink he was trying to put back in place.

    Startled, Hadrian turned abruptly to face what he thought was a new hallucination. In his astonishment, he let the sink slip from his hands and crash to the floor for the second time that day, shattering into several pieces.

    It was indeed Ouray who stood in the doorway, and not his imagination playing tricks on him. The shaman had just arrived at the threshold of the room, this bathroom being the first on his way back to the mansion. He had thought to freshen up there to regain his composure, still clearly affected by the events he had just experienced.

    Indeed, Ouray couldn''t leave these savagely murdered wolves abandoned by the roadside. The Native American had buried them, carrying them with his bare hands and digging their graves, hoping that this act of kindness would finally allow them to rest in peace, to regain in death the dignity that this abhorrent massacre had taken from them. That''s how his clothes had ended up stained, and his body marked.

    "What happened to you?" Hadrian asked, scrutinizing his friend, who seemed to have gone through all hell before reaching him, when he had simply thought him out on reconnaissance inspecting the clearing for the next day.

    Slowly emerging from his stupor, Ouray pointed to the broken sink and then the dried bloodstain on the floor, fixing Hadrian with a look as if to return the question.

    The Englishman sighed and offered, "Tea?"

    A few minutes later, Hadrian and Ouray were comfortably seated in the mansion''s grand library, facing the crackling fireplace, its dancing flames illuminating their tired faces.

    Hadrian had prepared two steaming cups of tea, which he had placed on a small coffee table between them. The delicate scent of tea mingled with the smell of old books, creating a soothing atmosphere.

    Silence settled between the two men, each lost in their thoughts. Hadrian observed Ouray out of the corner of his eye, noticing how the recent trials had left their marks on his face. The signs of fatigue and sadness were evident, but he remained as strong and determined as ever.

    Finally, Hadrian broke the silence. "Humans, you say," he murmured in a grave voice, seeking to understand the words spoken by his friend a few moments earlier.

    "Yes, it wouldn''t be the first time..." Ouray replied confidently.

    Hadrian lowered his gaze, his voice filled with bitterness. "I am all too familiar with how cruel humans can be," he said.

    "I was talking about Carolina, what happened to her," Ouray interrupted, changing the subject.

    "We never knew what happened to her," Hadrian admitted, his voice betraying his frustration.

    "Do you think it''s a coincidence that such a thing happened on the same day Fleur managed to make contact with her for the first time since her death?" Ouray asked, his intuition rarely failing him.

    Hadrian remained silent for a moment, pondering his friend''s words.

    "We don''t know if it was really her mother communicating with her through her subconscious, or if humans could be responsible for her death," he said with a voice tinged with doubt. "Carolina was a powerful witch; a mere mortal wouldn''t stand a chance against her. And let''s not forget that Darcey turned heaven and earth to find out what happened that night. We''ve done everything in our power to find answers. If some magic weren''t blocking our attempts, we would have likely solved the case by now," he tried to rationalize.

    Ouray fixed Hadrian with a penetrating gaze. "Carolina was shot in the abdomen, Hadrian. I don''t know many magical creatures who kill each other with firearms. And as for the wolves tonight, there''s no doubt," he replied, resolute in his conviction.

    Acknowledging the undeniable validity of Ouray''s arguments, Hadrian nodded. "I''ll go see Garth at the tattoo parlor later today. If humans are indeed targeting magical creatures, he''s the one best positioned to know," he stated. "But let''s not say anything to Fleur until we have more information. We already have enough on our plate with the upcoming full moon..."

    "You''re right. Go talk to Garth to gather more information, but I don''t think you should accompany us to the clearing at sunset tomorrow," Ouray suddenly declared, concerned.

    Taken aback by these words, Hadrian immediately protested, "What?! What are you talking about?"

    Ouray tried to explain cautiously, well aware of the burden of the curse that weighed on his friend. "Hadrian, just look at what happened to you today when you returned to the mansion. Now, imagine for a moment what could happen if you got closer to the river..."

    Attempting to reassure him, Hadrian quickly responded, "I''m getting better at controlling my episodes. Today was just a surprise due to the return. Look, I''m already much better, not to mention the pills I have at my disposal." The immortal justified himself, referring to the pills he had recently obtained, a chemical mixture that had so far helped him mitigate the intensity of his outbursts...

    Ouray cast a worried look at Hadrian but, aware that his episodes were unpredictable and of immense violence, he took the risk of explaining, "Your episodes render you uncontrollable, with extremely violent, and the effects of the pills plunge you into such drowsiness that you might become more of a liability than a help to us tomorrow night."

    Hadrian couldn''t help but feel slightly offended by this statement and retorted with a touch of irony, "It''s funny to hear that from you, considering that you and Fleur still don''t know when you''ll be plunged into her subconscious again, thanks to your little magical prowess earlier. For all I know, it could happen in the middle of the confrontation, and I''m the one who''s really going to slow you down, you say?"

    A sigh escaped from Ouray''s lips as he realized he had forgotten about the consequences of the spell he had cast with Fleur earlier. An ironic smile appeared on his face, because if they, indeed, found themselves plunged into the witch''s subconscious again during a battle, losing consciousness simultaneously, and if Hadrian experienced an episode at the same time, their trio would undoubtedly become the most useless intervention team in the history of humanity.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Garth was immersed in the metal riffs resonating through his tattoo shop, concentrated on his sketchbook. Although the clock read only three o''clock, the blue and pink neon lights, black walls adorned with punk rock symbols, and the blasting music gave the impression that night had already fallen. His nearly shaved head was dyed blue, and his lean yet muscular arms, bare beneath his red plaid sleeveless vest, were covered with a myriad of colorful tattoos.

    Arriving in Redwaters as a teenager, Garth had long struggled to understand his identity and the extent of his powers. As a Kinnara, he possessed the ability to transform into various types of birds, experiencing extraordinary sensations. But he had no control over his condition until he arrived in the enchanted forest. Through the encounters he had there and his unwavering perseverance, he had finally managed to master his gifts and take control of his life.

    Hadrian crossed the threshold of the store and approached the counter, but Garth only gave him an indifferent look, continuing to draw in his sketchbook, almost ignoring him. The deafening music disoriented Hadrian, who gestured for Garth to lower the volume. Without looking up from his sketchbook, Garth complied, lowering the sound slightly before returning to his drawing.

    "What can I do for you?" he asked in a detached voice, not interrupting his pencil strokes.

    Hadrian, with a concerned look on his face, delivered the news weighing on his mind. "Ouray discovered that four white wolves were shot near the East Roadlast night."

    Garth''s pencil tightened in his hand as he heard those words, visibly affected by the news. After a brief moment of internal turmoil, he managed to regain his composure and return to his drawing. Hadrian approached the counter, seeking to learn more about this dark matter.

    "Do you have any idea who could do such a thing?" Hadrian asked calmly, eager to uncover the truth.

    Garth remained silent for a few seconds, then finally lifted his eyes from his sketchbook to give Hadrian a piercing question: "Why do you care?"

    Surprised by his answer, Hadrian responded with astonishment, "Of course i care, what do you mean?"

    "I''ve never seen you take any interest in the fate of other magical beings, not outside your close circle," Garth stated measuredly while continuing to draw.

    Hadrian didn''t understand where Garth was going with this accusation or why he seemed so hostile toward him. He replied, "I''ve always ensured that supernatural creatures and humans coexist peacefully, even before you arrived here, Garth."

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    "All your efforts were focused on protecting humans, making sure that magical beings didn''t harm them, when the problem has always been quite the opposite," Garth declared without interrupting his drawing, leaving a heavy silence between them.

    Increasingly perplexed, Hadrian asked, "What do you mean?"

    "You want to know how many attacks on humans were carried out by supernatural beings in Redwaters the past five years? Aside from a few isolated cases of passing creatures, poltergeists, and other exceptions, practically none!" Garth informed him, his voice a mix of emotion and anger.

    Hadrian, now more lost than ever, exclaimed, "So, what are you getting at?"

    "Do you want to know how many magical animals and other harmless creatures have been killed by humans in the last five years? At least a hundred!" the young tattoo artist revealed with a voice filled with emotion and anger.

    Hadrian, increasingly baffled, asked, "How is that even possible?"

    Garth, his eyes burning with a dark glint, revealed the truth in a tight voice, "There''s an armed group, a gang of rednecks, who have been targeting anything they deem supernatural for years, especially peaceful and non-violent creatures... The forest is nearly deserted today."

    "I had no idea; Fleur never mentioned it to me," Hadrian admitted, stunned by these revelations.

    He now understood the severe look that Garth had cast upon him. He had been of no help to these defenseless creatures,worse, he didn''t even know they were in endangerd.

    "Fleur spends most of her time in the city with her human fianc¨¦; she hasn''t returned to the forest in years, not since her experimentation phase with magical mushrooms ended. As for you and Ouray, you come and go here like tourists, ignoring our community, caring only about humans," Garth added, his voice filled with reproach.

    Hadrian couldn''t refute Garth''s words, which painfully exposed his negligence. His visits to Redwaters in recent years had been fleeting and superficial. Seeing no attacks in the city or alerts regarding missing tourists, he had naively assumed that the situation was under control, neglecting the supernatural side of town. Suddenly, an intense feeling of guilt washed over him, causing sweat and shortness of breath. Hadrian tried to calm himself, praying that these intense emotions wouldn''t trigger another episode. In an attempt to learn more, he questioned Garth with an anxious tone, "This group you''re talking about, these rednecks, what do you know about them?"

    "Not much; I try to stay away while helping those I can without drawing too much trouble to myself..." Garth responded, returning to his drawing.

    Hadrian, filled with fierce determination, declared as he headed for the exit, still shaken by these revelations, "I''ll find a way to put an end to this."

    "I wish you luck, because once all the wolves and birds have been slaughtered, they''ll move on to larger prey, starting with people like Fleur, just as they did with her mother," Garth warned, deeply affected by his own words.

    Hadrian swiftly turned and rushed back to the counter, shouting in Garth''s face as he questioned him, clearly shaken by his words: "Carolina?! Are they the ones who did this?! What exactly do you know?"

    "Any sensible person knows it''s them. No one''s investigating them in her murder because Carolina was a powerful witch, and they''re just humans. On top of that, her mother''s gone paranoid, believing it''s some kind of vengeance from the higher magical realms. But if everyone would just look at it from a simpler angle. Why couldn''t Darcey ever trace her daughter''s steps at the crime scene? And why couldn''t Carolina stop a simple bullet coming at her?" Garth explained in a heated rant.

    Hadrian was trying to grasp Garth''s point, but he wasn''t getting it. The young man continued, "It''s the ground, Hadrian."

    "What do you mean by that?" the immortal asked, intrigued by these statements.

    "A few meters from where Carolina''s body was found, the ground nullifies all kinds of magic. That''s why Darcey could never make contact with her daughter''s spirit at the crime scene, and that''s why Carolina couldn''t do anything against the humans that night," Garth asserted.

    Hadrian was astonished. Garth''s words seemed to make sense, but where had he gotten this information, and how could such a thing even be possible? "How can you be so sure?" he asked.

    "The gang I told you about injured one of my friends a few weeks ago. I got tired of sitting around, so I decided to follow them and find out more. I was tailing them a few days ago when their truck took the road from the old Willard house to the woods where Carolina was found. That''s when, in mid-flight, I was suddenly turned back into a human. I fell from several meters up, i was luckily the trees caught me," Garth recounted.

    Hadrian noticed the crutch behind the counter and the cut marks on Garth''s tattooed body, which he hadn''t paid attention to earlier. It was clear that the young Kinnara had been through a serious accident.

    "I was in a pretty bad state, could barely walk. I tried to transform back to fly to the hospital, but my powers wouldn''t work," Garth continued.

    "Maybe your transformation was accidental," Hadrian suggested, still confused. "And perhaps being injured prevented you from transforming back because of your critical condition."

    "I''ve been shot before, and it didn''t stop me from transforming, Hadrian. I know what I''m talking about. I crawled as far as I could, and eventually, I managed to turn back with no issues. And when the doctors released me two days ago, I went back to the scene to check. Impossible to transform within that radius, like I wasn''t a Kinnara anymore on that soil but just a regular human," Garth passionately explained.

    Hadrian''s mind raced, trying to put together the pieces of memories and conversations. In a sudden moment of understanding, everything clicked into place. The conversations he''d had with Darcey resurfaced, her frustration and inability to connect with her daughter''s spirit at the crime scene, as if her magic didn''t work there. The memories of their few visits with Ouray to where Carolina was found came back, the oppressive discomfort they felt, attributed solely to the loss of their dear friend and the guilt they carried. But if Garth''s words were true, if all magic was truly suppressed in that place, it meant something much deeper: they were not only affected emotionally but physically, being individuals who were literally kept alive by magic.

    Hadrian was visibly shaken by the conversation, his thoughts in turmoil. Mechanically, he asked a question to Garth that weighed on him. "Why didn''t you tell anyone?" he asked with a strained voice.

    Garth, at his wit''s end, exploded, "What part of my story is escaping you?" He retorted with anger, "My mid-air fall from several meters? Or the fact that I just got out of the hospital two days ago?I was of course going to tell Fleur, but I wanted to learn more about he matter before putting her in danger. As supernaturals, we must support each other now more than ever, given our dwindling numbers."

    Hadrian avoided Garth''s gaze, ashamed of his own shortcomings. He remembered when Garth first arrived in Redwaters, a lost teenager he had advised and guided. At that time, Garth had looked up to him with admiration and respect, but today he faced the harsh reality of the harm caused by his absence.

    "I''ll fix this, Garth, I promise," Hadrian declared with determination.

    But Hadrian''s words hung in the air. "Fix this? Wow, what a hero! Where were you when my friends were being slaughtered, Hadrian? Can you bring them back to life? Can you return them to their families?" Garth asked in a harsh tone, his piercing blue eyes fixed on the immortal. "I hope at least now that it personally affects you, it will give you a good reason to find these bastards and make them pay."

    Hadrian hastily left the tattoo shop, his heart heavy with remorse. He barely held back a wave of nausea as he closed the door behind him.

    Revelations swirled in Hadrian''s mind, triggering an emotional rollercoaster. How had he fallen so low? His eternal life had been dedicated to redemption, to atoning for the wrongs he had committed in the past. The very source of his curse, the one to whom he had inflicted so much pain to, was a supernatural being. And yet, once again, lives had been destroyed, innocents persecuted, right in the town he had helped build and protect from such injustices.

    At this moment, Hadrian felt like a creature of chaos, even when his hands were innocent. The benevolent acts he undertook to offset his past mistakes seemed insufficient in the face of the magnitude of the harm he had caused. His body trembled, and he scanned his surroundings. He was in the midst of a bustling crowd on a downtown street, bathed in daylight.

    Across the street, a bakery teemed with customers coming and going, while others gathered at a nearby caf¨¦, taking seats on the terrace. Cars and bicycles moved peacefully, oblivious to the flood of adrenaline and anger mingling with Hadrian''s consuming guilt.

    Ouray was right. His condition made him unpredictable, dangerous. Such was the nature of his curse, where guilt bred violence, and violence fed into an unending cycle of consuming guilt.

    Trembling, Hadrian laboriously took out his pill bottle from his pocket and quickly swallowed a tablet, seeking to calm the turmoil ravaging his being. Then, he grabbed his cellphone and dialed a number, even as his vision was already blurring in front of the store.

    "Come get me." he whispered with a choked voice,praying for Ouray to come to his rescue before he lost consciousness or succumbed to uncontrolled violence. Sitting on the step in front of Garth''s store, Hadrian buried his face in his crossed arms, his trembling hands resting on his thighs. He waited, vulnerable and haunted by his demons, for Ouray to save him from himself.

    Meanwhile, Tucker, dressed in his sheriff''s uniform, walked past him, heading towards the old Jeep that Hadrian now used to move around incognito in town. Pretending to tie his shoelaces, Tucker took the opportunity to discreetly place a GPS tracker under the vehicle. Then, straightening up quickly, he continued on his way, greeting passersby with a feigned smile. Before turning away, the sheriff cast one final disdainful glance in Hadrian''s direction, who remained huddled on the store''s step.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Hadrian was consumed by an uncontrollable frenzy in the training room he had set up within the mansion. Only dressed in black jersey shorts, his body drenched in sweat, he unleashed all his power on the punching bag hanging in front of him.

    Ouray had brought him back over an hour ago, and although the pill he had taken in front of Garth''s store had somewhat tempered his impulses, a boiling energy and uncontrollable aggression still coursed through him. Only intense physical effort and the violence of his strikes could hope to channel them.

    Hadrian pounded the bag with a disproportionate intensity, venting his anger through each punch and kick. Sweat poured from his forehead, his wet hair sticking to his face. His entire body was tense, his bulging muscles bearing witness to the effort and rage that had seized him.

    The chain holding the punching bag now threatened to give way under the repeated force of his attacks, but the immortal couldn''t afford to stop. He was in the grip of a surge of violence, an indomptable inner force roaring through every blow.

    Ouray approached Hadrian slowly, standing in the doorway, his heart heavy with worry. Since he had found him on the city streets until their return to the mansion, the immortal had not uttered a word. Ouray could tell from his state that the conversation with the Kinnara had deeply shaken him.

    Time was running out. Only a few short hours separated them from sunset, the fateful moment when they would have to face the threat that Fleur''s dream had warned them about. A threat they still knew nothing about, sparking growing fear in Ouray about their ability to confront it. Hadrian''s return to Redwaters had clearly had a greater impact than what the shaman had initially anticipated.

    He had grown accustomed to seeing the immortal repress his emotions almost entirely or direct his anger in a more controlled manner. Over the years, they had developed various breathing techniques, worked on meditation, tried hypnosis, as well as other psychological and physical approaches to better channel his aggressiveness, anger, and the guilt that plagued him. However, none of it seemed to be working now.

    Of course, a magical approach could have been easier, but the very nature of Hadrian''s curse dictated that no known spell could alleviate his suffering. Their many attempts to bypass this rule had only made things worse when they dared to ignore it.

    It was only a few months ago that the chemical approach became an option, thanks to a scientist they had encountered during several missions on behalf of the Order. He had noticed similarities between Hadrian''s condition and some rare forms of schizophrenia. In the hope of calming the intensity of the immortal''s crises, he had concocted pills for him. These had seemed promising outside of Redwaters, but since their return, it became clear that the medication was unfortunately no longer as successfull.

    Ouray feared that the obvious link between the wolf massacre the night before and Carolina''s murder, which left no doubt in his mind, combined with what awaited them at nightfall, could cause the immortal to lose his grip, permanently.

    The sound of the front door opening reached Ouray''s attentive ears, announcing Fleur''s arrival. The doubts that had tormented them had to be put on the back burner for now, as time was of the essence. They could no longer afford to linger; it was time to take action.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    The trio reached the clearing overlooking the Redwaters River as the last light of day faded away. A heavy atmosphere enveloped the place, a chilling silence that stretched like an ominous omen. It was the eerie calm before the storm, a sensation that sent shivers down one''s spine.

    Breathless, Fleur broke the silence by exclaiming, "I really need to get back in shape. If we survive tonight, I promise to take up Pilates again!"

    Ouray replied with a disapproving look, "I did warn you that the hill would be challenging and the grass would be wet," his eyes resting on the high-heeled boots the witch had chosen to wear, despite his advice.

    Hadrian, crossbow in hand and a black leather duffel bag filled with various weapons in the other, scanned the surroundings vigilantly, alert to the slightest sound. He was trying not to dwell on the river on the other side of the clearing and its significance, or his conversation with Garth and the discussion he would have to engage in with Fleur later about her mother''s death. His top priority was to keep his friends safe at all costs. However, he couldn''t deny the scent of blood that seemed to permeate the area, just as it had in his memory.

    Ouray placed his backpack filled with magical relics and protective talismans on the ground, then began surveying the horizon.

    "Let''s have one last review," Fleur said, her voice trembling as she sought to ease her nervousness by twirling the rings on her fingers. "According to my dream, we might be facing undead rising from the ground..."

    "And an especially determined giant spider..." added Ouray, recalling their encounter within Fleur''s subconscious, where they had been attacked by that creature.

    "Not to mention a devastating fire..." Fleur chimed in, revisiting the nightmarish images with trepidation.

    "And defying the laws of gravity..." the young woman also remembered, feeling the intense vertigo of soaring into the air in her dream.

    "We''re about to find out..." Hadrian finally declared, breaking his silence and pointing to a spot a few meters above them to signal to his companions that the sky was starting to undergo strange distortions.

    Hadrian carefully placed his bag of weapons on the ground, letting Ouray quickly retrieve a sword from it. Meanwhile, Fleur, her hands trembling with a mixture of caffeinated anxiety and fear, hurriedly put on a protective necklace. The piece of jewelry, taken from the shaman''s backpack, pulsated with an esoteric energy.

    With a determined and focused gaze, Hadrian now aimed his crossbow toward the area from which the mystical disturbances emanated. His agile fingers effortlessly slid across the stock, poised to unleash a deadly bolt if necessary.

    A dark whirlwind of energy slowly formed, dancing with an unsettling grace in the air, stretching and intensifying gradually. The power of the vortex generated a storm of wind, sweeping leaves and causing chaotic turmoil around the trio.

    Although elevated several meters above them, the enigmatic vortex had a gripping hold on the three comrades. The air was charged with palpable tension, each particle seemingly imbued with forbidden magic. A deafening roar, like a demonic tornado, filled their ears, vibrating their eardrums, while the wild wind, carrying a thousand secrets, lifted the damp grass in a frenzied dance.

    Ouray, Hadrian, and Fleur watched helplessly as this ethereal nightmare unfolded. The elements raged around them, their hair whipping across their faces, obscuring their vision. The unleashed vortex hurled debris in all directions and raised clouds of dust all around them.

    An unspeakable apprehension filled the three companions as they considered the surprises that this powerful portal might hold for them. They couldn''t ignore how quickly it had transformed this peaceful clearing into a place filled with foreboding. Their hearts raced, their thoughts immersed in a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    The big night had finally arrived, but Za?n''s heart wasnt in it. It was as if organizing balls and galas had suddenly lost its appeal for the young man, thwarting his initial and only purpose in dedicating himself to this activity for the kingdom, which was, of course, to enjoy himself.

    Undoubtedly, the occupation seemed more enjoyable to him than going hunting with his father or playing Iron Cyclone with his brothers. Hobbies that had failed to hold his interest beyond his first attempt. Despite being a P¨¦ris, people known for their genetic predisposition for hunting and their athleticism, the hobbies that stemmed from these traits and were favored by those around him never excited Za?n. To him, these popular pastimes were nothing more than a chore that he willingly avoided.

    Hiding his disdain for these activities, which were supposed to appeal to boys his age and of his rank, had quickly proved problematic. Za?n had always had difficulty concealing anything, his disconcerting candor often landing him in awkward situations that many of his peers would have found embarrassing. However, that didn''t matter to the young man.

    "Why do I feel so strange?" Za?n wondered, perplexed. It made sense for him not to be drawn to throwing balls through iron hoops, and it was equally understandable that he rejected the very idea of considering hunting innocent animals as a sport. But suddenly questioning his legendary enthusiasm for the party? That was completely contrary to his personality.

    Taking charge of the festivities had at least the benefit of easing Queen Uma, his mother, who was already exhausted from overseeing all the kingdom''s political, economic, and social affairs day and night.

    Za?n was about to celebrate his nineteenth spring, an evening that should have filled his heart with boundless excitement. The transition to adulthood, a step filled with promise and renewal. Yet, a strange melancholy was creeping over him, dimming the shine of this special occasion.

    The young people of his circle, his partners in so many past escapades, were preparing to come together for a night of endless revelry. They would dance until dawn, forgetting the worries of daily life and surrendering to the magic of carefreeness. Za?n had spent weeks meticulously preparing every detail of the party. From the most exquisite dishes coveted from the four corners of the world to the most delicate flowers from distant horizons, nothing had been left to chance. And his outfit, of undeniable audacity, would undoubtedly elicit whispers and curious glances from anyone who crossed his path that night, only increasing his pride and confidence.

    The traditions of the P¨¦ris, people of sun-loving bon vivants, dictated that joyous celebrations be marked by brightly colored or light-toned attires, opulent jewelry, and dresses adorned with ostentatious embroidery. All of this was in stark contrast to the sheer muslin and black leather ensemble that Za?n had chosen to wear for the occasion, an outfit that oscillated between minimalism and provocation, perfectly reflecting his unique personality.

    His top featured a strikingly elegant rigid officer''s collar, while leather epaulets provided a well-defined structure. The billowy black muslin sleeves floated gracefully along his slim and lean arms, before gently tapering at the wrists.

    His pants, with an extremely high cut, enveloped his form down to the base of his behind, before falling straight. A wide black velvet belt, reminiscent of a classic tuxedo''s, added a sumptuous touch to the ensemble. This exquisitely textured belt further accentuated the slimness of his waist, creating a perfect contrast with his broad shoulders.

    To create this outfit, he drew inspiration from the clothing described in stories of wars and other epic tales from distant worlds that he had eagerly consumed since his early childhood. He boldly mixed eras, factions, and even genders.

    Za?n was deeply drawn to androgynous aesthetics, finding them undeniably appealing. He didn''t hesitate to play with that style in his daily attires, regardless of what others might think.

    As for his only jewelry, Za?n wore a thin gold chain around his neck, with his name delicately calligraphed in Arabic. In his ear, a simple golden ring added a discreet touch.

    His thick, silky black hair fell casually over his face. With an elegant hand gesture, he pushed it back. While eagerly awaiting Yara''s arrival, he secretly hoped that she could redo the same braid she had sported during their last meeting in town, a hairstyle he had found charming.

    On that day, the two friends had engaged in lively exchanges of amusing stories about the young people from neighboring cities, sharing carefree moments filled with laughter. Za?n ardently wished they would have the opportunity to engage in light gossip again before the start of the festivities, to relax and release some of the accumulated pressure.

    Nineteen years old.

    Zain opened the French doors leading to the spacious balcony, allowing a summer breeze laden with the familiar scent of jasmine, the smell of his childhood, to waft into his room. As he walked to the far end of his beige marble terrace, he observed the people busy with preparations below. He searched within himself for any motivation or momentum to face what layed ahead. However, he was struck by something indefinable. It was evident that it wasn''t just the monotonous nature of his existence or the approaching celebration that unsettled him. There was something in the air, almost tangible, a sinister and threatening veil that seemed to loom around him.

    Most P¨¦ris were limited to developing one or two magical gifts throughout their lifetime, but Za?n was an exception to this rule. Unexpectedly, he had inherited the power of empathy and deciphering, allowing him to replicate any form of magic once he understood and decoded its essence. In theory, that gave him unlimited access to a reservoir of extraordinary powers. However, as a novice in mastering his gifts, he lacked the practice to fully harness them. His empathic nature also made Za?n highly sensitive to his surroundings, and every fiber of his being told him that something ominous was brewing.

    The sounds of drums and lutes began to reach him, harmoniously blending with the summer atmosphere, infused with the scent of flowers. Za?n closed his black eyes and tried to focus on the enchanting rhythm of the music to relax, but it didn''t silence his intuition.

    Just as he was about to return to his room to pour himself the first glass of Zh¨¨re, a sparkling and fruity alcohol he adored, Yara finally appeared, gracefully floating from the lower courtyard up to his balcony. Flying, it had been weeks since he had last tried. Za?n''s powers had become erratic lately, sometimes more potent than ever, sometimes almost nonexistent. He thought it might be due to his age. Perhaps P¨¦ris experienced such fluctuations in their powers as they approached their nineteenth birthday. Comforting his mind, Za?n reasoned that if that were the case, his mother would have informed him, and he would certainly have been made aware.

    Yara, about to step onto the balcony to join her friend, was suddenly halted mid-flight. A previously invisible security barrier materialized upon contact with her body, tinted in a transparent red. The energy field, now visible, extended like a magical protective film, forming a dome around the terrace, keeping Zain inside and leaving Yara outside.

    "A new security barrier?" Yara exclaimed, accustomed to entering without hindrance.

    Annoyed, Zain crossed his arms and quickly chanted "Eftah" three times, first changing the color of the force field to green before making it vanish entirely.

    "My mother is getting paranoid lately, changing security spells every three days! She really needs a vacation!"

    Yara finally approached Zain and affectionately embraced him.

    "Happy birthday!" she said to him.

    She then carefully examined her friend''s outfit from head to toe and smiled.

    "It''s delightfully scandalous!" she remarked.

    Zain, clearly pleased with this critique, smiled in return.

    "I return you the compliment!"

    Yara then spun around, twirling her gorgeous orange tulle gown that magnified her bronzed complexion. The Roman-inspired dress featured two symmetrical slits that began as high as the middle of her thighs, boldly revealing a good portion of her well-toned legs. A plunging neckline accentuated her generous chest, adding a seductive touch to the already provocative design. Her wavy chestnut hair cascaded gracefully over her shoulders, harmonizing beautifully with the enormous gold earrings adorned with amethyst that highlighted the lovely purple hue of Yara''s eyes.

    "The weather is far too good to stay inside; I''ll get us some Zh¨¨re and two glasses!" Za?n exclaimed before hurrying off towards his room.

    After a few minutes and three glasses of Zh¨¨re, laughter filled the air between Zain and Yara. Sitting at an iron table on the balcony, Zain watched as Yara, standing beside him, braided a strand of his hair while chatting. The music below had grown louder, accompanied by various lively conversations of the guests, signaling that the party was already in full swing.

    "... and they say she took all their gold and valuables, fleeing with her magical guardian..."

    "Can we really blame her? Married so young to that sinister individual... And seriously, do you remember the guardian in question... Quite a specimen who is well worth taking a few risks for!"

    Yara nodded, laughing, recalling with admiration her friend''s fleeing lover''s handsomness. Zain sighed, more relaxed, before confiding:

    "It''s nice to chat and take my mind off things... I''ve had a knot in my stomach all day... like a bad omen, but it should pass," he told his friend.

    "A feeling related to your powers?" Yara asked, seeming to remember something.

    "I''m not sure, hard to say. Why do you ask ?" Zain replied.

    "When I arrived at the castle, I stopped by Jacob at his post before coming up here."

    "No! And you''re only telling me now?! Don''t tell me you''re seeing him again?!" Zain exclaimed, hoping that Yara had truly moved on from Jacob, whose toxic behavior was well known.

    "I know... I know... he''s not good for me and has no intention of changing. You can lecture me later... but putting all that aside, he mentioned something rather strange..."

    "How so?" asked Zain, not sure where she was going with this.

    "He said there was an alert earlier in the day, that the army had been mobilized, and he had to be ready to intervene..."

    "Intervene? Intervene in what? Nothing serious ever happens around here..." Zain declared, growing increasingly concerned by this revelation.

    "I don''t know, but he seemed to think it was serious, some kind of threat... He said his orders came directly from your father. You really don''t know anything about this?" Yara wondered.

    Zain was usually informed about everything happening in the kingdom; his mother entrusted him with all the details. "No, not at all."

    "Your feeling might be more serious than you think," Yara suddenly realized.

    Those words had the same effect on Zain as the icy water of the lake when he decided to swim in it against everyone''s advice, out of the two suns season. He was chilled.

    "I haven''t seen my mother all day... I better go ask her what''s going on. She''ll surely know more," the young man said, abruptly leaving his chair and heading towards his room.

    "Zain, wait... You know Jacob, he tends to dramatize things to impress me. There''s probably nothing to worry about!" his friend tried to reassure him, doubting the reliability of her source.

    "I''d rather check for myself. I''ll join you later at the party," he replied hastily, leaving his friend alone on the balcony, worried and lost in thought.

    The few seconds he spent on his way between his quarters and his mother''s seemed to stretch into eternity. The vast corridors, lit by lanterns, were strangely deserted, with no guards in sight, which was unusual. Finally, Zain arrived at the door to his parents'' chambers and opened it with trembling hands. The immense room, adorned with walls and columns of rose gold and a gray marble floor, was completely empty. Zain cautiously entered, scrutinizing every corner, but found nothing.

    Finally, he noticed a moving shadow behind the mashrabiya screen, near the majestic dressing table where his mother and him spent a lot countless hours together since his early childhood. A shiver ran through his body as his mother suddenly emerged from behind the object, dressed in her evening attire. Uma''s face lit up with a serene smile upon seeing her son, and she approached him with her characteristic grace, dressed in a beautiful ivory silk kaftan. Her gray hair was styled in a sophisticated bun, while her delicate wrists were adorned with magnificent calligraphic gold cuffs. Rings of various shapes and sizes, set with multicolored stones, sparkled on her fingers, adding a touch of whimsical refinement to her outfit.

    Zain rushed toward her and embraced her. His mother, pleasantly surprised, returned the embrace with a smile, unaware of the anxiety her son was experiencing. She asked him, "Are you okay, dear? I thought you were already downstairs with the others!"

    "I''m better now! I was afraid something bad had happened..." he replied, breathless.

    "Don''t worry, there''s enough Zh¨¨re downstairs for ten evenings like this. I made sure of it myself, so don''t panic."

    Uma had taken an exceptional day off, at the advice of Bashar, her husband, to relax. It was something she would never have agreed to under normal circumstances, as she was constantly busy working without thinking of anything else. Zain was the only person with whom she could engage in frivolous conversations and laugh like a child. And if there was one day when she could slow down a bit, enjoy the party, and ensure the festivities went smoothly, it was her beloved son''s birthday.

    She gracefully sat on the chair in front of her dressing table and began applying her lipstick. But upon seeing Zain''s expression, still pale, through the mirror''s reflection, she grew concerned. "Zain, what''s going on?!"

    "Nothing... I feel strange..."

    "It''s probably because of those pants and that belt cutting off your circulation..." she teased.

    Zain eventually smiled, relieved to share this intimate moment with his mother. Maybe he had worried too quickly. His emotions were truly on a rollercoaster. He scrutinized his reflection in his mother''s mirror, observing the cut of the pants on his body, and asked Uma, "You don''t like it?!"

    " I do, I''m just teasing you. I really like it."

    Uma now carefully applied kohl to her eyes, under Zain''s admiring gaze, before announcing to him, "But you''re missing something," she declared.

    With a jump, Uma stood up and positioned herself in front of her son. She began gently applying kohl to his eyes while explaining to him, "You know... all great warriors used to wear this."

    Zain responded with a hint of humor, "Is that what you''re going to tell your husband when he gives me those disapproving looks?"

    Uma gave him a conspiratorial smile. "As if those looks mattered to you..."

    Zain pondered for a moment, then admitted, "They don''t matter to me, but I have to admit, sometimes I wish I had more in common with him and my brothers... then I quickly remember there''s you, and it all goes away!"

    Uma finished outlining Zain''s eyes, then looked at him proudly, saying, "There, splendid. I''ve always found it more beautiful on your black eyes."

    It was true that Zain was the only P¨¦ri who didn''t have violet eyes, unlike the members of his tribe. His mother had always celebrated that difference and encouraged him to embrace who he was. This uniqueness had sometimes elicited intrigued looks and questions, but Uma had always protected her son and instilled confidence in him. It was also this difference that fueled Zain''s dreams of adventure and discovery, longing to explore other worlds and perhaps one day find someone who shared his uniqueness.

    Zain sat in front of the dressing table at his mother''s chair, admiring his reflection in the mirror. Uma positioned herself behind him, placing her hands on her son''s shoulders, and said gently, "You know, your father and brothers are afraid of you, of your potential. They fear what they don''t understand¡ªyour powers and your passions. But you, you''re like me, you''re not afraid. By the way, your braid looks magnificent."

    A grateful smile formed on Zain''s face. His mother had always been there to support him, even when no one else understood him. He felt fortunate to have such an extraordinary and loving mom by his side.

    "Yara just braided my hair, she also told me the strangest story," Zain confided.

    Uma, well-informed about the kingdom''s gossip, asked with curiosity, "The magical guard on the run with Daria?"

    Zain was surprised that she had heard of it. He replied, "No, although I''m impressed that this rumor reached you."

    With a sly smile, Uma revealed, "I too have my sources to stay updated, you know."

    Zain''s smile widened, then he adopted a more serious expression and asked, "It was about an alert in the kingdom to mobilize the army... Do you know anything about it?"

    Perplexed, Uma responded, "What do you mean?"

    "Probably nothing important if you''re not aware of it. Jacob told her about it, something about an imminent threat. Apparently, his orders came directly from Dad..." Zain murmured to his mother, furrowing his brow.

    Uma froze, deep in thought for a few seconds. Then, she spoke in a frustrated tone, "Your father, who did everything to ensure I relaxed today in prevision of your birthday party, by keeping me out of his way? How gullible can I be! An alert, you say? Oh, he''ll pay for this!"

    Without wasting a moment, Uma rushed to the folding screen behind which she had appeared a few minutes earlier, disappearing behind the object. Metallic sounds echoed in the room, evidence of her frantic search.

    Intrigued and worried, Zain stood up from his seat, approaching the folding screen cautiously. He dared to ask in an uncertain voice, completely bewildered by her sudden reaction, "Mom, what''s going on?"

    Uma finally reappeared. In each of her hands, she firmly held a sword. Without hesitation, she handed one to Zain, who remained dumbfounded by this unexpected gesture. The other blade remained firmly gripped in her own hand. Uma gazed intensely at her son and said with determination, "Darling, take this, we don''t have much time!"

    An echo of heavy footsteps resounded in the corridor, drawing nearer to the room. The sounds of boots mingled with the murmurs of a growing crowd, signaling the imminent arrival of what seemed to be a large crowd.

    Uma swiftly turned toward the double doors of her bedroom, her eyes gleaming with fierce determination. She crossed her arms in front of her, uttering an incantation quickly, "Eghlak." A magical aura briefly enveloped the room. Then, turning back to Zain, her expression serious, she declared urgently, "Follow me!" Without waiting, she grabbed her son''s hand and dashed toward the balcony with surprising swiftness.

    With a simple movement of her hand, Uma magically opened the French doors, revealing the terrace shrouded in the darkness of the night. Stars twinkled above them, while a gentle breeze caressed their faces. Uma rushed to the edge of the terrace, and without casting a backward glance, she jumped into the void with Zain, leading him in a freefall into the unknown.

    Uma and Zain plummeted in a dizzying fall, plunging into an abyss of several dozen meters. In those moments of anguish, Zain''s heart threatened to burst in his chest. "Happy birthday," he ironically thought, even in the face of imminent death. Everything seemed to indicate that they were destined to crash. But just before the inevitable impact, they were miraculously stopped a few inches from the ground. Uma had unleashed her powers and created a cloud of energy that emerged beneath their feet, acting as a providential cushion. This shield caught them just in time, avoiding the impending catastrophe. Once the threat was averted, the cloud dissipated and they landed gently, leaving Zain in a state of complete disbelief. He had no idea that his mother possessed such an extraordinary ability.

    But who was pursuing them? And where were they heading? What compelled Uma to react so imperiously and resolutely?

    Finally, unable to wait any longer, Zain broke the silence and addressed his mother, "Are you finally going to tell me what''s going on?"

    Uma, determined, fixed her gaze on him and replied, "I promise you. I''ll explain everything."

    A loud noise from above reached them, signaling that the door to Uma''s chambers had finally given way under the relentless assault. The pursuers were on the verge of catching up with them.

    "But for now, run!" Uma ordered with a determined voice.

    Without wasting a second, Uma dashed into a frenzied run, pulling Zain along by the arm through the crowd of guests scattered in the palace''s splendid gardens. These gardens were the stage for a joyful celebration in honor of Zain''s birthday, where hundreds of guests, dressed in their finest silk attire, enjoyed enchanting oriental music while holding cups of zh¨¨re. But now, their joy and wonder gave way to utter confusion as they watched, spellbound, the queen and the young prince cut through the crowd with swords in hand, slicing through the bougainvillea-lined pathways.

    Uma and Zain raced down the stone staircase leading to the lower part of the estate. They reached an expansive labyrinth with walls of lush greenery, a true architectural and aesthetic marvel. It was a place where young adventurers came to play, getting lost for hours, far from adult eyes.

    Upon reaching the entrance of the labyrinth, Uma placed her hand on the plant-covered wall, leaving a red magical imprint on the grass. When she and her son crossed the threshold, a dome of energy in the same red, similar to the one protecting Zain''s room, unfolded around the labyrinth, now preventing any intrusion. This emergency plan had been meticulously devised by Uma long ago, and she fervently hoped to successfully execute it.

    Knowing that this barrier wouldn''t hold for long, Uma knew she had to act quickly in her son''s best interest. She ventured deeper into the labyrinth, still leading Zain behind her. Suddenly, she came to a halt, finally facing him. The boy was completely stunned and disoriented by the recent events.

    "We don''t have much time; they will catch up soon," she said in a tense voice.

    "Who''s going to catch us, Mom?! What''s going on?!" Zain asked, panicking.

    "Darling, there''s a prophecy surrounding the birth of an exceptional being, the Decipherer..."

    "The Decipherer?!"

    "It''s you, Zain."

    "What?!" Zain exclaimed, growing increasingly confused.

    "Your abilities have caused certain tribe, a particular group, to dedicate their entire existence to finding you."

    "Are they the ones pursuing us?" Zain questioned, trying to piece together the story his mother was telling him.

    "I''m afraid not, dear. Your birth has caused a division within our own community. Some, like me, see you as the miracle you are, while others perceive you as a threat to the peace we had managed to establish..."

    "You mean it''s our own army chasing us?! People I''ve known my whole life?! We need to warn Dad and my brothers; they must be in danger too..."

    "Don''t worry about that, Zain, we have more pressing issues to deal with," Uma tried to reassure him, seeking to divert his attention.

    "We can''t just leave them to fend for themselves with what''s happening! They might..."

    "Don''t worry about that, I''m telling you..." Uma insisted, looking him straight in the eyes.

    A shiver ran through the boy''s body, and suddenly, it struck him: "My God, Dad... Dad is behind all of this," Zain affirmed, finally understanding, under his mother''s saddened gaze, who couldn''t contradict him.

    "When I realized who you were, the extent of your powers, and what they represented, I took on a more significant role in the kingdom''s politics to ensure I could protect you if i evr needed to. I wanted to make sure that if something happened, you would be safe, because I knew your father had always been fearful of the prophecy. I thought I had dispelled his apprehensions and doubts long ago, but he must have been preparing this attack in secret..."

    "But he''s my father, my family! I know we don''t have much in common, but to do this?! And my brothers are with him?!" Zain exclaimed, completely bewildered.

    "Zain, as I told you, they''re afraid, and fear sometimes drives us to do the unthinkable..."

    "Afraid of what? And why is this other group looking for me? What do they want from me exactly? I don''t even understand my own powers; I can''t be that useful to them; they must be mistaken!" The young P¨¦ri cried out, panicked.

    His mother took his hand to reassure him and looked at him with her wise, violet eyes. "My only mistake was not telling you sooner, not preparing you. I wanted you to have the most peaceful life possible, and your father used my affection for you as a weakness to manipulate me and make me believe he was on my side," Uma explained, determined to make Bashar pay for this ultimate betrayal. While there had been many disagreements between the spouses, she never thought he would be capable of targeting their son, her precious Zain. She silently vowed that this betrayal would not go unpunished for her husband.

    "But this is insane; there must be a way to stop all of this! We should try to talk to Dad. I can try to give up my powers if that''s really the issue..." Zain''s mind was racing, desperately searching for a solution to the overwhelming events he was witnessing helplessly.

    "Dear, listen to me carefully. You''ve always known you were different, unique. You''ve always wanted to go on adventures, to discover the worlds depicted in the stories you''ve been reading since you were a child. Today, you''re nineteen, Zain, the time has come," Uma told him, tears welling up in her eyes at the thought of parting from her son.

    "Go where?! And how in the middle of all this chaos?"

    "A portal will take you far enough to keep you safe," she replied, having already made all the necessary arrangements.

    "I won''t go anywhere without you! I can''t leave you here; they''ll come after you for helping me escape!" Zain exclaimed, terrified at the thought of anything bad happening to his mother.

    "Zain, don''t worry about me. You know your mother. For every soldier your father managed to enlist, I have three others who are loyal to me and ready to take up arms to protect me. That''s why your father organized this surprise attack, to catch us off guard, but I''ve already alerted my allies, and they should already be deployed."

    "Then I''ll stay and fight by your side. If all of this is because of me, I want to stay," the boy declared, determined.

    "Zain, we''ve managed to live in harmony until now by hiding from the people searching for you, it won''t be possible after tonight. The battle that''s raging outside will lead them to us, and they must not find you here when they arrive."

    "No, this is insane! We must still be able to stop all of this!"

    The red energy dome surrounding the labyrinth was suddenly bombarded by repeated magical lightning bolts, seemingly trying to break the force field. The repeated strikes caused multicolored flashes of light above their heads, like fireworks in the sky. Uma, realizing the urgency of the situation, took her son''s hands in hers, looked him in the eyes, and said calmly, "You have to trust me; everything will be fine. And when this sad situation is over with and behind us, I will come find you myself, I promise."

    "Mom, there''s no way! Know that no matter where you plan to send me, I will find a way to come back!"

    Uma, with a pained expression, fixed her son with a sad gaze. "I knew you would react this way, dear. That''s why the portal that will transport you has been specially designed to erase from your memory any details that could endanger you," she confided, her voice filled with regret.

    Panic seized Zain, making his voice quiver. "What?! You wouldn''t dare do that to me! Abandon me in the middle of nowhere with no memory?!" His words stumbled in his mouth, revealing the anguish that already consumed him.

    Uma sighed, her gaze filled with deep sadness. "The spell won''t alter your personality or your powers, Zain. It will simply block anything related to your origins... and this conversation."

    Desperation showed on Zain''s face as he pleaded with his mother in a supplicating voice. "Mom, please, there must be another way ! Don''t do this!"

    Uma felt her heart breaking in the face of her beloved son''s distress. Her own tears threatened to spill, but deep down, she knew this was the only way out. With determined resolve, she bent down to pick up her sword, which was left on the ground, never breaking eye contact with Za?n. Then, without hesitation, she pressed the blade against the palm of her right hand and made a horizontal cut. Pain coursed through her, but she endured it.

    As blood welled up from her wound, Uma placed her bloodied hand on the plant wall to her right, reciting words long forgotten: "Eftah el beb." Dark energy began to form where her hand had touched the wall, swirling menacingly.

    Zain, trembling with surprise and dread, watched as the scene unfolded before him. The leaves of the plants surrounding them began to whirl in the air, carried by the growing whirlwind. A deafening tornado-like noise filled the labyrinth, drowning out words and tears.

    "I love you, dear, and I promise I will find you!" Uma shouted through the chaotic maelstrom, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. She wanted to stop time, but the vortex forming before them suddenly pulled Zain toward it with an irresistible magnetic force. He disappeared abruptly, sucked into the darkness.

    Silence descended upon the labyrinth; even the shots at the magical barrier ceased, freezing the moment in deceptive peace. Uma, her heart shattered, wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her gaze fell upon Zain''s sword, abandoned on the ground¡ªa symbol of their forced separation. The pain that had gripped her slowly transformed into a burning anger directed at Bashar and all those who had betrayed them, who had torn them apart with unimaginable violence.

    Uma had both swords now, gripping their handles with unwavering determination. Her face, marked by sadness and maternal love, now displayed fierce resolve. The magical dome had just crumbled before her eyes, and she was more than ready to fight, to face all obstacles in order to find her beloved son. A new battle was about to begin, and Uma was more than prepared to confront it head-on.

 Chapter 3

    Like a fleeting fragment of thought, Zain felt nothing. He floated in a state of weightlessness, devoid of any tangible consequences. His doubts had dissipated, his anxiety was now a distant memory, abandoned in an inaccessible corner of his consciousness. He had lost all sense of his identity, his place in space and time. He was simply there, immersed in nothingness, experiencing a paradoxical sense of peace. However, he knew he needed assistance, but the reason for it still eluded him.

    Suddenly, an extreme feeling of dizziness invaded his body. His physical form seemed to abruptly reassemble, and he found himself propelled into the void, in a fall that seemed to last for an eternity. Then, with extreme violence, he was ejected from a portal similar to the one that had just sucked him.

    Zain finally crashed to the ground, his face coming into contact with the damp grass of Redwaters. His fall had been precipitated from several meters high. At the very moment of his brutal landing, a violet shockwave emanated from his body, spreading in all directions for hundreds of meters, like the blast of a supernatural bomb.

    In a laborious effort, Zain lifted his scraped face, his disheveled hair partially obscuring his features.

    Before him stood Fleur, Ouray, and Hadrian, who were struggling to get back on their feet after being thrown to the ground by the magical explosion emanating from Zain. The trio watched him with apprehension, captivated by what they had just experienced.

    Their gazes met, filled with questions.

    "What was that?" Fleur asked, her face marked by confusion and dizziness.

    Ouray replied with an intrigued voice"Some kind of magical wave..."

    Pointing her finger at Zain, Fleur continued : "And it came from him?" Her tone was uncertain.

    Ouray, still attempting to unravel the mystery, responded, "I believe so, yes¡­"

    A faint smile appeared on Fleur''s lips as she joked to aleviate the tension : "At least, he''s not a giant spider¡­" before quickly adding, uncertain : "Right?!"

    Eyes fixed on the young boy, Ouray, who remained on guard, replied :

    "I don''t think so, indeed." his facial expressions revealing growing suspicion.

    Zain watched their conversation, perplexed and utterly bewildered.

    Their clothing looked strangely foreign to him, and even the color of their eyes appeared different, but different from what? Despite being aware that he had laded in an unfamiliar place, Zain was unable to make any comparisons between these strangers standing before him and people from his own world. His mind was locked, preventing any possible analysis of the potential differences that might exist between them.

    Ouray and Fleur¡¯s words, spoken in a language he didn''t understand, suddenly seemed to float in the air, gradually taking various shapes, materializing before him then penetrating his mind, assembling within him like the pieces of a puzzle. It was at that very moment that Hadrian chose to break his silence, addressing him in a gentle voice :

    "Hello."

    That word was the first he understood.

    Zain looked at Hadrian, feeling a different vibration radiating from him than ones he had sensed from his two companions, which immediately piqued his curiosity.

    "I... I think I''m lost," Zain finally managed to say, surprising himself at the fact that he could suddenly now communicate in their language.

    Hadrian responded in a calm tone :

    "That''s a start¡­Where do you come from?"

    The young boy, caught in a troubling confusion, replied uncertainly :

    "I don''t remember anymore¡­ I forgot."

    Ouray, remaining cautious, exclaimed firmly :

    "Finding out if he''s dangerous would be the more urgent matter, in my opinion..." He said, keeping his eyes fixed on the boy, who still seemed dazed.

    Fleur, gently placing her hand on the stone pendant hanging around her neck, responded reassuringly :

    "He''s not."She then proceeded to explain the origin of the green glow emanating from her necklace, adding :

    "This necklace is a detector of waves and energies. The fact that it shines green in his presence, especially after the magical explosion he produced, shows that he''s not dangerous."

    Zain, his eyes lost in the void, finally confessed in a trembling voice, as if he just had a realization : "I think I need help." He attempted to push his hair away from his face, completely disoriented, while taking in the surroundings of this strange place where destiny had brought him.

    The three friends watched Zain, closely observing his reactions. The young man seemed genuinely distressed, and despite his dark appearance with black clothes and goth-like eye makeup, there was nothing about him that felt threatening. Although, They were still perplexed about his sudden arrival¡­Were they facing a lost potential ally or the dreaded enemy they had come to fight?

    "I''m Hadrian" the immortal finally introduced himself, drawn to something in Zain, though he couldn''t put it into words. The magical wave that had struck him, shaked his entire being, but he couldn''t articulate the depths of his feelings.

    Ouray, remaining on guard, asked the burning question on all their minds :

    "What''s your name?"

    Zain was very confused. He had lost all memory of his identity, his origins, and even of the danger that awaited him. The boy was aware that he needed to earn the trust of this odd group of people in order to get their help. However, he was feeling distressed in their presence, alarmed by their weapons, unsure of their intentions, leaving him far from reassured.

    Suddenly, Hadrian exclaimed as he read aloud the inscription on the gold chain attached around Zain''s neck :

    "Za?n? That must be your name. It''s written on your pendant. It means ''beautiful'' in Arabic."

    Zain touched the necklace with his fingertips, hoping it would jog his memory, but in vain. Total darkness persisted. However, hearing his name pronounced by Hadrian brought him a semblance of calm, as if a piece of his lost identity was being returned to him.

    Hadrian then asked :

    "What do you remember exactly?" in the hope of making it a bit easier for Zain. Questions from the others only added to his confusion, instead of simply asking him to share the informations he did, in fact, still remembered.

    "Danger... I''m here to escape from danger," Zain replied, attempting to recall his memories.

    "What kind of danger?" Ouray inquired, eager to learn more.

    Zain did his best to remember, but in vain. Something clouded his mind, and though he felt the answers were not lost but merely hidden, he didn''t know how to access them.

    Suddenly, Fleur''s necklace¡¯s stone abruptly changed color, shifting from green to red.

    "Look!" the witch exclaimed, showing her magical pendant to her friends. Their faces tensed, and their eyes widened at the alarming change in the stone''s coloring.

    Hadrian, his sight fixated on Zain, hastily grabbed his crossbow, pointing it at the young man. Ouray, his features taut, did the same with his sword, picked up from the ground.

    The three friends now regarded Zain with caution, their careful steps distancing them from him. The magical necklace seemed to reveal that he was dangerous after all.

    Zain was completely stunned by their reaction. Despite his fragmented memories, he was certain that he posed no threat to them.

    "I am not the one causing this." He tried to convince them, his words filled with sincerity.

    "How do you explain what''s happening, then?" Ouray asked in a stern tone, his brows furrowed.

    Suddenly, the sky above them began to deform, victim to strange distortions. A portal with a sinister black vortex appeared, vibrating with unsettling power, reminding the trio of acolytes their mission to stop the scourge against which Fleur''s nightmare had warned them.

    Zain turned abruptly to face the vortex, his heart pounding with apprehension. The trio stood behind him, anxious at this new threat. Their hair stood on end, stirred by invisible currents, while the grass and earth swirled around them, obscuring their vision.

    "Does that answer your question?" Zain said sarcastically, a mix of frustration and fear in his voice, as massive spider legs began to emerge from the portal, triggering a sense of terror within the group, who watched in silent horror.

    The giant spider, with only half of its body emerging from the portal, emitted shrill screams that blended with the surrounding tumult. The piercing noises echoed in the clearing, amplifying the feeling of fear that gripped their hearts. With a cunning move, the creature projected a viscous web towards Zain, which quickly wrapped around his neck. The sticky substance trapped him, tightening around his throat with disconcerting force. The thread pulled harshly on his neck, lifting him into the air, steadily approaching the spider, still clawing her way to emerge completely from the portal.

    Zain felt his breath being cut off, his lungs constricted under the pressure of the suffocating web. In a desperate struggle, he tried to undo the grip on his breath, clutching the web coiled around his neck with his clenched hands. But the more he fought, the more the grip seemed to tighten, relentless and tenacious. As panic rose within him, a spark of recognition lit up in his mind: a Tracker. He vaguely remembered that creature, a hunter able of tracking beings across dimensions. Someone must be pursuing him, searching for him across the worlds.

    "Help !" he gasped, his voice muffled by the spider web constricting his throat, hoisting him toward the voracious beast awaiting.

    A revelation struck Ouray when he heard Zain''s cry for help, recalling the distant echoes of Zain''s voice he had heard the previous day during his immersion into Fleur''s mind, without fully understanding their meaning then.

    "It''s him I heard calling for help in your subconscious! We must save him!"

    Reacting swiftly, Hadrian fired an arrow from his crossbow toward the giant spider. The arrow sliced through the air, striking the creature''s hairy head where its enormous purple eyes gleamed malevolently. The shaft, like a splinter, seemed minuscule in comparison to the immense size of the creature. The spider continued its relentless march, hungry to seize its prey, ignoring the young man''s desperate attempts to resist.

    Time was running short, and the massive demonic beast had nearly succeeded in raising the young man to the level of its dreadful maw, threatening to pull him through the portal to a terrifying fate. Their anxious stares barely making out the chaotic scene below, obscured by the frantic whirl of the vortex. The three companions were powerless against the unleashed forces surrounding them.

    Suddenly, Zain''s desperate voice tore through the swirling air: "Hadrian!"

    The boy''s intense gaze locked with Hadrian''s, and, instinctively, the immortal seized the sword that rested in Ouray''s hand and leaped into the air, being propelled by a magical energy summoned by Zain himself. The young boy''s hands traced a movement in the air, enhancing Hadrian''s momentum, giving him an epic thrust that projected him onto the creature''s back.

    Hadrian now stood between the massive spider and the portal, riding atop the head of the infernal creature, which writhed frantically in an attempt to dislodge him. His balance was precarious, his hands gripping the creature''s sticky tufts as it twisted in every direction.

    In this desperate struggle, Hadrian displayed extraordinary agility, evading the spider''s hook-like limbs, which were prepared to do anything to unseat him. Each movement was calculated with precision as he swung to the rhythm of the creature''s jerks. Meanwhile, he had to keep a vigilant eye on the inter-dimensional portal, whose swirling lights threatened to suck him in at any moment. Distorted echoes of strange voices and distant cries escaped from the magical passage, bearing an ominous omen.

    Hadrian finally drove his sharp blade into the monster''s head, eliciting a shrill cry of pain that reverberated throughout the clearing. The iridescent purple liquid gushed with each blow, splattering the immortal''s face. Relentlessly, he continued his merciless assault, piercing the creature from all sides, like a deadly dancer performing a macabre choreography. Each puncture was accompanied by an explosion of violet blood, creating a rain of translucent droplets that spattered Hadrian, casting an eerie glow upon his figure.

    Drenched in the beast''s phosphorescent fluid, Hadrian then made a daring leap to the ground, severing the spider''s web threads in the process. The monster''s hold on Zain was broken, and the young man fell into the abyss. Hadrian, like a living shield, partly cushioned Zain''s fall as he crashed violently to the ground moments before him. Their bodies collided with a deafening force, both emitting breaths of pain and exhaustion.

    Hadrian and Za?n, marked by their fierce battle, watched as the monstrous creature was emitting its final agonizing cries. The piercing screams merged with the air, creating a macabre symphony that seemed to defy reality. Then, in a tumultuous whirlwind, the voracious portal swallowed the mutilated spider, sucking in its body before abruptly sealing shut. The crash accompanying its disappearance was instantly replaced by a profound silence, as if nature itself held its breath in the face of this supernatural spectacle. The night sky was finally revealed, adorned with twinkling stars that appeared to watch over the two exhausted men.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Zain quickly got to his feet, extending his hand to Hadrian to help him up. The immortal grasped his hand, sensing an odd connection between them, then released his grip once on his feet.

    "How did you do that?" he asked the boy, referring to the magical gesture he made to propel him above the creature.

    "I don''t know; it was instinctive." Zain replied to the immortal while Hadrian wiped the spider''s violet blood off his face with disgust.

    "And rather impressive¡­" Fleur interjected as she positioned herself between the two men before adding : " Sorry for not being more welcoming with all this apocalyptic commotion. I''m Fleur, and this is Ouray, but you can call him Ray."

    The Native American finally smiled warmly, sensing the boy''s obvious overwhelm in the evening''s events.

    "Thank you for your help. I wouldn''t have escaped that Tracker without you" Zain told them, expressing his gratitude.

    "A Tracker?" Ouray asked, curious to learn more.

    "That spider has the power to track beings across dimensions. I don''t understand how I can remember that, while the simplest things like my own name seem to elude me," Zain admitted, crestfallen.

    "Selective amnesia spells are often used to protect their target" explained the shaman.

    "What does that mean?" Zain asked, intrigued by his insight.

    "It suggests that those responsible for your memory losses might have acted to protect you in some way¡­" Ouray clarified.

    "Which would explain why you were able to identify this creature, as it posed a direct threat to you." Hadrian added, following the conversation closely.

    A light rain began to fall on the clearing, gradually intensifying, heralding an imminent downpour. Zain''s carefully tailored black shirt was now torn in places, revealing his scraped arms. The boy, in a precarious state, shivered with cold. Whether he remembered his own world or not, the climate there must have been much milder than here, he thought trembling.

    "Do you know of a nearby shelter, a place where I could take cover for the night, until daybreak?" he asked anxiously.

    "The enchanted forest..." Fleur began to say.

    "No," Hadrian cut her off abruptly, the conversation he had had with Garth that morning still fresh in his mind. "You''re coming with us." He stated firmly. Leaving a supernatural being in distress to fend for themselves was out of the question, not if he could offer assistance.

    "What about letting HIM decide what he wants to do ? Free will, do you still remember that precept?" Fleur protested at Hadrian''s authoritative response.

    "Hadrian is right; it would be too dangerous. He could be at risk of further attacks," Ouray intervened to support the immortal''s statement. Then he turned to Zain before adding :

    "It''s evident we were meant to find you tonight. We''ll help you, discover who you are, understand the reasons for your appearance and the origin of your powers." He declared, more fascinated than ever by the mysteries surrounding his arrival.

    "Well Zain, welcome to Redwaters!" Fleur finally said, offering him a warm smile.

    Zain was very confused. Despite the assistance these three strangers had just provided, he was unsure he could trust them. The boy, deprived of any reference point to rely on, decided to lean on his cruel lack of options. He had no choice but to follow them.

    Hadrian removed his brown suede jacket, stained in various places with the spider''s purple blood, and handed it to the shivering boy before setting off determinedly, followed closely by Ouray and Fleur. Zain hesitated for a moment before putting on the dirty jacket, two sizes too big for him, but couldn''t help but smile at Hadrian''s sweet gesture, before finally joining the trio already walking in the pouring rain.

    Tucker was lurking in the shadows, concealed behind bushes only a few meters away. Through his binoculars, he had been a partial witness to the insane events that had unfolded before his eyes. His breath was shallow, and he felt a deep shock at the terrifying spectacle he was entirely unprepared for. The sheriff could never have predicted that his decision to follow Hadrian Archer that night, thanks to the GPS he had discreetly placed under his car earlier that day, would confront him to such horror.

    Tucker shivered under the pouring rain as his heart filled with burning hatred. Up to this point, he had dedicated his efforts to rid the town of what he saw as vermin, these magical beings who, in his opinion, corrupted Redwaters'' respectable society. He and his group had been working for years to eliminate this scourge. However, what he had just witnessed exceeded anything they had ever fought against. This threat was of an entirely different magnitude, of infinitely greater power, and Tucker couldn''t help but connect the phenomenon to Hadrian Archer''s return to town, fueling his consuming anger.

    The time had come for him to take matters into his own hands, to rid the world of this abominable individual and his degenerate acolytes. It was time to eradicate the threat they posed to the common good once and for all. As the distant sound of Hadrian''s jeep starting reached his ears, Tucker set out, determined to confront this situation with all the simmering fury that fueled his being.

    The soaked sheriff struggled to reach his vehicle. His mind was still reeling from the dizziness caused by the abominable spectacle. As his being was more than ever consumed by anger and confusion, Tucker was suddenly startled, stumbling backward with all his weight, crashing heavily onto the wet grass. Indeed, to his great astonishment, he had just come face to face with the four white wolves he had coldly slain the night before. The wolves stood there, forming an impenetrable line between him and the road, blocking his way to access his car.

    The wolves growled, their howls rising in the nighttime air, mingling with the moon''s cries. A purple aura, similar to the magical wave that had left Zain''s body upon his arrival to Redwaters, enveloped them. The boy''s magic seemed to have brought them back from the dead. Tucker, stunned by this apparition, drew his pistol and opened fire on the wolves. However, the bullets, the very ones that had taken the lives of these creatures the night before, now passed through their bodies without harming them, as if the deceased animals had become immaterial beings.

    In a unparalleled panic, the sheriff fell back even harder, crashing heavily to the ground again. Trembling with fear, he awkwardly got back up, his weapon almost slipping from his hands. With an unsteady step, he ran through the four ghostly wolves to reach the road in a hurry, continuing his escape to his car. He casted one last look back as he raced down the asphalt, catching a final glimpse of the specters of the wolves, howling relentlessly in his direction.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Ouray was behind the wheel of the Jeep, driving towards the mansion. Hadrian sat beside him, while Za?n and Fleur occupied the seats in the back. Through the window, Za?n watched the passing landscapes, allowing his mind to wander in a desperate attempt to recover buried memories. His past was slipping away, piece by piece, and he hoped to find answers in the darkest corners of his memory. Despite Ouray''s cautious driving on the clear road, Za?n felt a certain unease, agitated by the bumps and turns of their journey. It wasn''t just the novelty of traveling by car that disturbed him, but also the magnitude of the events that had unfolded since his arrival in this strange world. His mind wandered, even considering that flying might feel like a safer alternative to him than staying in this strange vehicle. Flying? Could he actually ?

    Hadrian was fully aware that once they arrived at the mansion, he would have a crucial conversation with Fleur. He''ll need to reveal to her the details of his conversation with Garth, the new lead on her mother''s murder, as well as the existence of the hunters terrorizing the supernatural beings of the town. However, deep down, he feared more than anything the consequences this might have on his friend. He was afraid that their conversation might lead Fleur to impulsively seek out the armed group, putting herself at risk of facing a tragic fate similar to that of her late mother. He had to simultaneously investigate with Ouray on the origin of the strange anomaly that neutralized all magic within the area where Carolina''s body was found. That was precisely where Garth had failed to transform, a mystery they had to solve at all costs. Understanding Za?n¡¯s connection to Fleur''s enigmatic dream also held critical importance to him. He hoped to ease the constant turmoil in his mind caused by his earlier conversation with Garth, and learn more about the extraordinary powers Za?n seemed to possess, as well as the bewildering effects of the mysterious wave that had struck him full force when it escaped from the boy''s body, confusing him in the process.

    Ouray was trying to connect the dots in his mind, revisiting the recent events that had unfolded since his return to Redwaters. He began with his brief passage into Fleur''s nightmare the previous night, which allowed him to hear Za?n¡¯s cries of distress without understanding their meaning. Then came their encounter with the young boy that evening, as well as the turmoil that accompanied his appearance¡­ It was clear that Za?n was the target of a relentless pursuit, and Ouray understood that if such significant efforts had been deployed to find him, those on his trails would not stop before getting him, putting everyone around him at risk. That realization weighed heavily on the shaman, feeding his growing concern.

    Fleur felt disoriented, lost in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Despite her relief at surviving unscathed the dreaded full moon episode at the clearing, and even being able to help an innocent along the way, many alarming questions persisted in her mind.

    The other fragments of her dream haunted her more intensely than ever. The promise that worst was yet to come resonated within her, while the sinister voice that accompanied her nightmare repeated endlessly :"At the full moon, it will begin." Her mother''s mysterious words, gleaned from the depths of her subconscious, echoed in her mind as well : "Open your eyes, it''s about to begin."

    These thoughts intertwined, fueling her doubts and worries. What if their experience that evening was just the prelude to a series of much darker events? What if their current encounter was only a fraction of what awaited them? A cold shiver ran down Fleur''s spine at the thought.

    Ouray approached cautiously the last bend on the slippery road, descending toward the entrance of the mansion, when suddenly, his head was violently thrown back, his eyes abruptly rolling, reminiscent of the effects of the spell he had cast with Fleur the day before. It was happening again, as they feared it might. The shaman let go of the steering wheel, losing control of the vehicle.

    Hadrian did his best to regain control of the car from his passenger seat, as the Jeep sped down dangerously toward the ditch on their right. In the back, Fleur seemed to undergo the same fate as Ouray, her mind appearing to leave her body, her eyes now tinted with a frightening white color. As for Za?n, he was completely panicked, observing the scene, unable to understand what was happening, his face frozen with scare.

    In a final effort, Hadrian managed to steer the vehicle back onto the road, avoiding disaster. However, the car now rushed at full speed directly toward the mansion''s massive metal gate. With Ouray''s foot still firmly anchored on the accelerator, Hadrian feared that pulling the handbrake at such speed might cause the vehicle to flip completely. As the car rushed toward the gate, Za?n seemed to concentrate, his eyes closed, trying to draw from the depths of himself despite his overwhelming anxiety.

    Hadrian was already preparing for the impact with the imposing metal gate, the Jeep''s headlights illuminating their deadly path with a macabre intensity when he suddenly saw Za?n appear in front of the iron gate, as if he had emerged from nowhere, his hands outstretched toward the vehicle about to hit him, using his magic to try to stop it remotely.

    Perplexed, Hadrian glanced at the back of the vehicle where Za?n was seated a few seconds ago. The young boy had simply disappeared from the back seat and reappeared in front of the gate. How was this possible? Wondered Hadrian, bewildered.

    The vehicle was about to hit Za?n as he was doing his best to stop it, his arms stretched and his face strained with effort.

    Just as Hadrian was about to risk pulling the handbrake to avoid running over the boy, the car suddenly came to a halt a only a few inches from Za?n.

    Za?n, exhausted, was panting, drained by the tremendous efforts he had just pulled without even knowing that he could. His nose began to bleed profusely, while the car''s headlights, in the pouring rain, blinded him.

    Hadrian turned off the engine, plunging the scene into darkness. He quickly got out of the vehicle to approach Za?n. As the boy was about to lose his balance, Hadrian caught him just in time, making him lean on him. Together, they returned to the car, where Hadrian opened the rear door to gently help him back inside, next to the still unconscious Fleur.

    Hadrian approached Za?n, visibly concerned, standing near the car door.

    "Are you okay?" he asked, his worry showing on his face, as Za?n slowly regained his senses, wiping away the blood flowing from his nose.

    "I feel like my head is about to explode," he replied painfully, as he gradually regained his faculties.

    "How did you do that?" Hadrian asked, curious.

    "I had nothing to do with what happened to your friends," Za?n replied, defensively, thinking that Hadrian was accusing him of being responsible for Ouray and Fleur¡¯s condition.

    "I know... I was talking about how you went from the back seat to outside the car, in front of the gate, and managed to stop the vehicule ?" Hadrian clarified.

    "I''m not sure... Since the vortex brought me here, I feel like I''m connected to two different places. I tried to channel my anxiety and draw from that sense of division to use it to project myself out of that deadly contraption¡­" Za?n replied, analyzing the situation in his mind simultaneously.

    "I''ve known a wizard with the gift of ubiquity... But you didn''t duplicate yourself, so maybe teleportation? Quite hard to master with such ease, especially without any incantation. And If you add telekinesis on top... I really have no idea what you might be¡­" Hadrian admitted after his tirade, shaking his head, lost in thought.

    "I don''t know either¡­" Za?n reluctantly responded as he gradually regained his composure. "I think my powers work in close tie my emotions, in a balance between my ability to focus and what I''m feeling at the moment."

    "Well, whatever you did, it¡¯s clearly thanks to you that we all managed to avoid the worst¡­" Hadrian acknowledged, showing gratitude.

    "What happened to them?" Za?n then inquired, casting a worried glance inside the car where Ouray and Fleur remained unconscious.

    "It''s a long story... They should be waking up soon. I shouldn''t have let Ouray take the wheel with that whole random dive into Fleur''s subconscious hanging over us," Hadrian explained with a hint of regret in his voice.

    "What about you?" Za?n proceeded to add, looking intently into the immortal''s eyes. "What are YOU?"

    Hadrian appeared uncomfortable, choosing his words carefully : "It''s an even longer story, one we absolutely don''t have time for..."

    His frustration growing, Za?n stepped out of the car and stood, facing Hadrian :

    "Stop me if I''m wrong" he began, his voice filled with irritation : "Since I arrived tonight, you and your friends have bombarded me with questions, although it was clear that I''ve lost my memory. You threatened me with weapons, then asked me to follow you to who knows where, claiming it was for my own safety, only to have ME end up saving all of your lives. And when I dare seek some clarification about what''s going on, about the strangers around me, that¡¯s really all I get in return ?"

    Za?n shook his head disapprovingly, expressing his dissatisfaction with this confusing situation. Then, with determination, he walked away from the car and Hadrian, heading for the road.

    Hadrian, intrigued by his audacity, quickly caught up to him :

    "Where are you going?!"

    "I heard your friend mention a magical forest earlier," Za?n stated, his eyes glinting with an adventurous spark. "I''d rather take my chances over there; maybe I''ll find the answers I''m looking for."

    Hadrian grabbed Za?n''s arm to stop him in his tracks. However, the dark look the boy gave him made him release his grip immediately. Regaining his composure, Hadrian told him :

    "It would be dangerous for you to wander around alone, with who knows what''s already after you..."

    "Not to offend you, but I don''t exactly feel safer with you guys right now" Za?n retorted abruptly. "Thanks for helping me earlier, but I think we''re even now."

    Determined to catch up with him, Hadrian quickened his pace to walk alongside Za?n. Frustration grew within him as he asked, trying to understand : "Is this how you usually react, or am I just privileged enough to bring this delightful side out of you?"

    Za?n came to a sudden halt, staring intensely at Hadrian. "I don''t know; I''m an amnesiac, remember? What about you? What''s your excuse for refusing to answer any of my questions?"

    Embarrassed, Hadrian lowered his gaze : "I... I''m not used to talking about all of this... About what I am, or about anything for that matter..."

    With an arched eyebrow, the boy responded with a touch of sarcasm :

    "And yet, you think it''s perfectly fair for you and your squad to try to learn everything about me?" He left Hadrian puzzled by his reaction.

    "I don''t know how you usually operate, Hadrian, but let me give you some insight that might help for the future: trust goes both ways. Good luck with everything, and I''m keeping the jacket."

    Za?n resumed walking, distancing himself from the immortal, who watched him leave, torn between irritation at the boy''s insolence and a hint of admiration for his self-assurance. He had to admit that Za?n was right. He couldn''t expect blind trust without revealing anything in return. On the other hand, letting him wander alone in this cursed town, with threats already looming over him, was clearly not an option.

    "Wait!" Hadrian shouted in Za?n¡¯s direction, already walking away. The boy gave a fleeting smile before turning back to face Hadrian.

    "Get back! I''ll do my best to explain to you what I can... But first, I need to ensure Fleur and Ouray''s safety inside the mansion." Hadrian caved in a loud enough voice for Za?n to hear from a distance.

    Za?n turned around, marching back towards Hadrian with a victorious smile on his face.

    "See, it wasn''t that hard" he quipped.

    Hadrian shot him an annoyed look, and the two men walked back towards the car, together.

 Chapter 4

    Fleur''s eyes slowly opened, but instead of waking up in Hadrian''s car-the last place she was conscious in- she found herself inside the manor, bathed in the daylight filtering through the windows.

    "Ouray? Hadrian? Zain? Is anyone here?" she called in the library, hoping for a response, but only silence greeted her.

    About to leave the room to search for her friends, Fleur was blindsided by a surprising vision: a younger version of herself, barely fourteen years old, appeared before her, entering the library. A mix of surprise and nostalgia washed over Fleur as she realized she was reliving once again a memory or a dream inside her subconscious.

    Her younger self seemed completely unaware of her presence. Fleur smiled as she saw her hairstyle from that time, especially her bangs on thick hair. With hindsight, she judged that particular hair choice dubiously, relieved to have long since left behind that challenging period of her adolescence.

    Fleur watched her younger self place a book on one of the library shelves, before getting ready to leave when Ouray suddenly entered the room. The Native American¡¯s appearance also appeared quite different from today, sporting shorter and darker hair.

    "Thanks again, Ouray¡­ for everything," the teenager said, smiling, expressing her gratitude to the Shaman.

    "Same time next Thursday?" he asked.

    The young Fleur nodded, then picked up her backpack from a chair and left the room.

    Fleur recalled that period of her life with startling precision. She had just discovered her witch abilities, and they were still difficult to harness. Her nights were filled with disturbing nightmares, and her emotions would sometimes get the best of her, causing disasters in her everyday life. Back then, no one was helping her navigate these still untamed powers.

    Her grandmother, Darcey, was deeply affected by the loss of her daughter Carolina. She hoped Fleur would keep away as much as possible from the supernatural world, continually dissuading her from using her magic and powers. Darcey even went as far as threatening to send her to live with her human father, whose visits had ceased since her mother''s death, and for whom Darcey never tried to hide her contempt. For Fleur, leaving Redwaters was out of the question. It was the only place where she still felt connected to her late mother. However, she vehemently refused to follow her grandmother''s absurd rules. She had managed to get her hands on Darcey''s grimoires and secretly practiced spells, often putting herself in danger.

    A few days after her fourteenth birthday, a nightmare similar to the one that had led her to the tragic discovery of Carolina''s lifeless body a few years earlier woke Fleur from her sleep, filling her stomach with a familiar dread. However, this time, the girl being pursued in her dream inside the woods adjacent to their house didn''t seem to be more than ten years old, and Fleur recognized her immediately. It was Alexandra, a little girl whose disappearance had been widely reported for several days.

    Blinded by the prospect of finally tracking down her mother''s murderer, Fleur was convinced she had perfect control over her powers. She had decided to take matters into her own hands in the middle of the night, believing she had finally found a lead on the culprit, the one who had taken Carolina away from her. After all, her two nightmares had taken place in matching locations, she thought candidly. But her confidence quickly dissipated when she found herself alone in the woods, armed only with her flashlight, right where her mother had met her demise. That time, Fleur was confronted by an utterly sinister character, a child killer passing through the region who had kidnapped Alexandra. The horrifying man, with a gaunt face and the appearance of a hobo, wasted no time in attacking Fleur, a pocketknife in hand. To make matters worse, her witch powers seemed mysteriously ineffective that night, a phenomenon she still didn''t understand to this day.

    It was that night when she first met Hadrian, as he saved her just in time by incapacitating the murderer. He anonymously called the police, allowing them to rescue the terrified and captive Alexandra, leading to the arrest of the repeat offender. When the authorities arrived,a still shaken Hadrian, quickly brought Fleur to the manor to avoid being spotted at the scene. He then explained to Fleur that he had been protecting the witches in her family for generations, following a promise made to one of her ancestors, and that was how he had found her that night, watching over her. He also told her that the individual the police had just apprehended was merely a transient common criminal, whose modus operandi differed too much from that of her mother''s murderer to raise any suspicion of his involvement in Carolina''s case.

    It was also that night Ouray introduced himself, offering to teach her how to control her powers, just as he had done for her mother before her.

    Fleur remembered the intense relief she had felt at that moment. Even though she hadn''t been able to avenge her mother as she had hoped, she had finally found people she could confide in freely about her powers, her fears, and the supernatural world that both fascinated and terrified her. She was no longer alone in the world for the first time.

    Fleur wondered why her mind had led her to relive that specific moment in the library. Her younger self having already left the manor, leaving Ouray, who was sitting in a chair, flipping through a book, oblivious to her presence. She couldn''t recall these moments since the Fleur who had experienced this memory was already gone. A sudden realization washed over the witch: this time, she wasn''t in her own subconscious, but in the Shaman''s.

    The creak of the door echoed through the corridor. "Fleur?" Ouray called, heading towards the hallway, convinced that the young witch might have returned due to a forgotten item. However, he came face to face with Darcey, her icy gaze fixed on him.

    Fleur''s grandmother had a less severe hairstyle than usual, her beautiful wavy red hair cascading gently over her shoulders, in perfect harmony with her impeccably tailored midnight-blue coat.

    "I believe it''s time we had a little talk," she announced, in a clearly displeased tone.

    Fleur was stunned. What could her grandmother want? Was it the day she had found out about Ouray and Hadrian looking out for her?

    "Darcey... always a pleasure to see you," replied Ouray, offering a smile, though his anxiety was palpable.

    "Oh, spare me yet another empty exchange of pleasantries, would you? We deserve better than that, don''t we?" retorted Darcey in a biting tone.

    A tense silence settled in, and then Darcey continued, "Since when has this been going on with Fleur?"

    "Since Hadrian rescued her in the woods where her mother met her end. Fleur was utterly defenseless, facing a murderer," Ouray answered with a grave voice.

    "It''s impossible... I casted a protection spell on her. If she were in danger, I would have been alerted," protested Darcey with unshakable confidence.

    Fleur couldn''t help but smile, noticing the parallel between her grandmother''s words and her recent actions. She had just given her fianc¨¦ an enchanted bracelet with the secret intent of being alerted if he were in danger; apparently, it ran in the family.

    "Yet, that''s precisely what happened," assured Ouray, his voice unflinching.

    "I don''t understand," said Darcey, bewildered.

    "It was obvious she would eventually expose herself to danger, that she would seek to deepen her understanding of her powers. You couldn''t dissuade her indefinitely," reasoned Ouray.

    "Do you think that gives you and Hadrian the right to do this behind my back, to play mentors with her?" retorted Darcey.

    "We''re doing it to her benefit, to help her master her powers, teach her to defend herself."

    "You did the same for her mother before her, yet it didn''t save her," Darcey replied with a chilling coldness.

    Ouray gave her a sad look, wounded by those words. Carolina''s death filled him with immense sadness, and the guilt of not being able to help her haunted him relentlessly.

    "They are so alike," Darcey said, her face suddenly overwhelmed by a multitude of emotions. She took a cigarette from her plum-colored ostrich leather pouch. Ouray reached for the lighter in the back pocket of his jeans and lit it for her. Darcey took a deep drag of her cigarette before continuing.

    "At Fleur''s age, Carolina seized every opportunity when I had my back turned to join her group of rebellious witches..."

    "The Abundance Witches," Ouray added, remembering.

    "Abundance of nonsense... misguided little amateurs playing with forces far more powerful than they were," Darcey added, pulling insistently on her cigarette.

    Fleur was captivated by their conversation, completely stunned by this surreal experience. No one had ever told her about this group of witches her mother was supposedly a part of.

    "Every supernatural being in the bloom of their powers yearns to find a community, some guidance. That was true for Carolina, for Fleur, just as it was for you too... You can see that trying to deprive them of it only made things worse..."

    "Neither Hadrian, nor you, nor any bunch of pretender witches are what Fleur needs today!"

    "That''s true. She needs her grandmother," he replied calmly, a hint of tenderness in his words.

    Darcey shot him an angry look, then took a long drag of nicotine, exhaling a cloud of smoke that dissipated in front of Ouray''s face. She responded with a voice laden with emotions

    "It''s too painful for me. Seeing her more and more resembling her mother every day, making the same mistakes as her..."

    Fleur watched their conversation closely, torn between sadness and relief. Finally, she understood why her relationship with her grandmother was so distant. Darcey clearly saw her lost daughter in her, and each similarity between them reinforced her fear of reliving the tragedy of Carolina''s loss, as if it were a curse destined to repeat itself. But that didn''t change the injustice of this tragic circumstance that not only took away her mother, but also of the presence of her grandmother.

    "I love that little one so much, so smart, so brave, but I can''t teach her magic. I''m unable to do it, not after Carolina," confessed Darcey, visibly moved.

    Ouray gently placed his hand on Darcey''s, seeking to comfort her, and said :

    "She''s in good hands with us..."

    "I know," Darcey finally admitted, still deeply moved.

    As Ouray''s eyes locked onto hers, their hands intertwined in a moment filled with tenderness that made Fleur uncomfortable, unable to deny the extraordinary tension between them, Darcey suddenly snapped back to reality and ended the exchange :

    "I have to go; I have a flight to London. The Order has entrusted me with a new mission." She delicately withdrew her hand from Ouray''s.

    Darcey gave him one final strained smile before turning and walking down the corridor towards the front door, without looking back.

    "Darcey..." Ouray managed to whisper, hoping to hold her for a few more moments, to prolong the conversation... But all he received in response was the muffled sound of the door closing behind her departure, a sound that resonated within both Ouray and Fleur, abruptly bringing them back to reality.

    Hadrian had positioned Ouray and Fleur at opposite ends of an imposing burgundy velvet couch in the manor''s living room. Fleur jumped violently as if struck by an electric shock, falling back onto her feet, while Ouray slowly got up, still dazed from the journey.

    "My grandmother?! You have a thing for my grandmother?!" Fleur exclaimed, deeply upset by this revelation.

    "Had a thing..." Ouray corrected gently, regaining his composure.

    "Well, bravo! That changes everything! And my mother was part of some rebellious witch group?!" she yelled at him, clearly very emotional.

    "Calm down a bit, I''ll explain everything..."

    Hadrian and Zain bursted into the room, alerted by Fleur''s shouts. Zain held a large bowl brimming with sweet popcorn that Hadrian had microwaved a few moments earlier. The boy was discovering the gustatory pleasure of popcorn with a mix of surprise and delight, his face bearing a satisfied smile, as a promise of delicious discoveries to come.

    "Hadrian? Were you aware of this?!" Fleur asked the immortal, with an inquisitive tone.

    "Aware of what?"

    "Ouray and Darcey, the incredible love affair?" Fleur retorted, still intrigued.

    "Oh..." Hadrian let slip, feeling uneasy about revealing further information about this delicate matter.

    "And what about my mother supposedly being part of a rebellious witch group?!"

    "Rebellious witches?!" Hadrian repeated in a mocking tone before correcting himself, "It was just a group of slightly eccentric and irresponsible girls who wanted to annoy their parents by casting spells they had no control over, on a lame backdrop of rock music..."

    "But all that''s in my mother''s past, isn''t it? Maybe these girls know more about what happened to her?!" Fleur exclaimed with simmering intensity, revealing the extent of her turmoil in the face of these revelations that shook her certainties. What could her closest friends still be hiding from her?

    "We''ve met with them on several occasions to question them about it, but they don''t know anything," Ouray informed her with a voice laden with embarrassment, seeking to allay Fleur''s doubts.

    "Since we''re sharing confidences, I also have something to tell you about your mother..." Hadrian announced solemnly, his gaze revealing the burden of secrets he carried.

    "What now? Ouray was dating my grandmother, and you were dating my mom? Are you about to confess that you''re my real father, Hadrian?" Fleur retorted, a touch of irony in her voice.

    Zain, who was closely following the exchange, with his mouth full of popcorn, nearly choked upon hearing this remark. He casted a quick glance at Hadrian, alarmed by the turn of events.

    "No. But it''s quite serious. Garth informed me that a group of armed humans is in town, hunting supernatural beings," revealed Hadrian, his voice heavy with gravity.

    "I''ve witnessed their atrocities myself, these savages..." Ouray added, rage burning in his eyes as he mentioned the slaughtered wolves.

    "That''s really awful... but what does that have to do with my mother?" Fleur asked, desperately trying to understand where Hadrian was going with this, just like Zain, who was struggling to piece together the information without having the full context.

    "Garth discovered that there''s an area in Redwaters, near the woods where Carolina was found, where the ground blocks all forms of magic," Hadrian explained.

    "That''s impossible!" Ouray exclaimed, unable to fathom how such a thing could happen.

    Fleur, meanwhile, remained bewildered by Hadrian''s words, desperately trying to make sense of it all..

    "Garth believes this anomaly, which nullifies magic in the area, allowed this armed group to attack Carolina without her being able to defend herself..." Hadrian continued, his words heavy with significance.

    "I think he''s right," Fleur finally stated with a somber voice, her face expressing deep sadness before continuing, "It would explain why my powers didn''t work the night I went back to the woods thinking I could stop her murderer, the very night I met you..."

    "As I''ve said before, it''s impossible. Only a descendant witch has the power to banish magic from consecrated ground" Ouray reminded them, convinced that there must be a mistake.

    "A descendant witch... If Darcey isn''t aware, and if Fleur had nothing to do with it, it means that..." Hadrian began to realize, but Fleur interrupted his thoughts.

    "That my mother would have created this magic-free zone just a few meters from our home?" she asked with a voice full of confusion. "But why?"

    "We must stop this group before they cause any more havoc first. We will discover the hows and whys later," Ouray declared, trying to provide some perspective on the situation.

    "Since when have you known that humans might be responsible for my mother''s murder?" the young woman asked her friends, filled with bitterness.

    "Ouray shared his doubts with me last night; I met with Garth earlier today..."

    "I''ve suspected it for some time now," Ouray reluctantly admitted.

    Fleur took a deep breath to try and calm herself. She was tormented by the unexpected revelations and the weight of the enchantment she was only just emerging from. How could her friends have hidden all these things from her?

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    "And over the past few years, how many other pieces of information have you thought better to keep from me?"

    "Fleur, it''s not like that at all! We needed to deal with the full moon issue tonight first..." Hadrian tried to explain gently.

    "And we wanted to prevent you from taking reckless risks in searching for answers while we had no certainty about the case, nothing more," added Ouray.

    "What about you and my grandmother? Or my mother''s past?" the young witch insisted, unwilling to let go.

    "Fleur, we acted only in your best interest, you have to believe us," Ouray told her with a kind voice.

    "I don''t think lying to me and treating me like a child is in my best interest," Fleur said with a trembling voice, before continuing, "I trusted you; I thought we were a team. But you still see me as an inexperienced child today, not as a partner, an equal. If you''re still capable of treating me this way after everything we''ve been through together, then I really don''t belong here."

    "Fleur, this is absurd; please calm down a bit," Hadrian attempted to reason, bewildered.

    "I will find the answers to my questions, but on my own," Fleur declared, a tear rolling down her cheek.

    "A piece of advice: don''t trust them; it''ll save you many disappointments," she told Zain before hastily leaving the room, clearly disoriented.

    "FLEUR!" Hadrian yelled in her direction, trying to stop her, but she continued walking without turning back.

    "I think it''s best to let her have some space," Zain calmly advised the two men who were overwhelmed by the turn of events. The young boy could sense Fleur''s distress and understood her need to be alone to gain some clarity.

    "The silver lining here is that I''m a bit relieved to see that I''m not the only one you''re keeping things from..." he continued to lighten the mood, taking one last bite of popcorn before offering the bowl to the two men.

    Ouray declined with a mechanic hand gesture, looking dejected from the argument with the young sorceress. Hadrian shot Zain an annoyed look following his comment before grabbing the bowl and taking a bite.

    "She takes everything the wrong way. My history with Darcey is very complicated and goes back a long way," Ouray explained, with a thoughtful expression.

    "And the Abundance Witches are unpredictable. Many of them turn to dark magic because they play with occult forces too unstable for their level of skill. They have no respect for the principles governing magic, no respect for its codes," Hadrian added to justify his choice not to share the information with his friend.

    "But if I understood what you were saying, Fleur''s mother was part of that group, does that mean she was..." Zain began to assemble all the pieces of the mystery.

    Hadrian interrupted him to respond, "Carolina saw them only as a form of rebellion to annoy Darcey, never actively participating in occult activities. It was a social refuge where she felt free. If Fleur had learned about it, she would have eventually joined them to feel closer to Carolina¡¯s memory, without having the same discernment as her mother has. She would have risked being indoctrinated by their absurd ideology, putting her powers in service to the most vile things, without even realizing it, like most of them."

    "Has Fleur ever given you reasons to question her judgment?" Zain simply asked.

    Hadrian and Ouray looked at him at the same time, intrigued and concerned. The two men appeared to contemplate his words.

    "Not really, well, there was her mini-adolescent phase, wandering in the enchanted forest..." Hadrian answered hesitantly.

    "Spells and magical mushrooms, I remember. But nothing really dangerous or worrying, when you think about it..." Ouray added, searching his memory.

    "She''s always been quite..." Hadrian began, gradually recalling.

    "Trustworthy, very mature..." Ouray concluded, slowly realizing his mistake.

    "Which explains her reaction better. But if she''s never given you reason to question her judgment, why did you keep the truth from her?" Zain asked them, just as simply.

    The two men seemed confused by the straightforward realization that they had handled things wrongly with the young sorceress. Even though their intentions were noble, they had nonetheless hurt Fleur unfairly.

    "Fleur has already been through so much in her life... It''s true that we exclude her sometimes, but it''s only to protect her," Ouray said mechanically, as if to ease his conscience.

    "I have a feeling that the best way to protect those you love is to be honest with them," the young boy told them, with an emotion he didn''t understand the source of. It was as if he felt with great intensity that someone had hidden something major from him, although he couldn''t remember who, or what, or why. Nothing persisted, except the bitter taste of betrayal, and fear.

    "Do you remember something ?" Hadrian then asked him, his eyes shining with a mixture of curiosity and concern. He understood the importance of these words and was aware that they could hide a crucial part of Zain''s identity.

    "No, just a strange sensation, like the certainty that my world was completely disrupted, violently, before my arrival here," Zain replied after a slight pause, his thoughts engulfed in inner turmoil.

    "That''s true; we haven''t discussed yet the issue of your appearance and what it implies, Zain. We need to gather as much information as possible about your abilities, what comes back to your memory, especially about your origins..."

    Ouray declared, having completely set aside the mysterious appearance of the boy on that night.

    "Yes, like that creature you remembered, the Tracker. The more we learn about who you are and where you come from, the sooner we''ll know who''s chasing you and how to stop them," added Hadrian, more determined than ever to assist him.

    "I appreciate your help, sincerely, but after everything that happened tonight, I just think I need to rest a bit before undertaking anything," Zain confided, his body and mind having been put to the test.

    "Of course!" Ouray exclaimed, suddenly realizing of how exhausted Zain must be after the night he had experienced.

    "I''ll lead you to the guest room; you''ll find everything you might need there," Hadrian told him in a soothing voice. Zain smiled at Ouray in greeting before leaving the room, following Hadrian to the designated bedroom. Zain¡¯s mind was in turmoil, and even exhaustion seemed powerless in the face of his anxieties.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Ouray was comfortably seated on the living room couch, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug, lost in a sea of thoughts when Hadrian returned to the room, breaking the silence. "Did you make yourself a cup of tea?" he inquired.

    Ouray let out a light sigh before responding with a hint of bitterness, " That was originally my intention, but I ended up spiking it. If we decide to stay any longer, I''ll be joining A A faster than we defeat this evil."

    Hadrian replied with a touch of mischief : "What happened to your infamous ''It''s so good to be back home?" teasing his friend''s optimism upon their arrival in town.

    Ouray shot him a weary look, choosing to remain silent, and brought the cup to his lips, taking a long sip of the alcohol-infused tea. In the meantime, Hadrian confidently made his way to the antique wooden globe-shaped bar, which occupied a corner of the room. He carefully poured himself a glass of golden whiskey, letting the amber hues play in the subdued light.

    "Don''t worry, we''re in the same boat," Hadrian declared reassuringly.

    "How''s Zain, by the way?" he inquired, curious to learn more about the boy.

    Hadrian replied with a tinge of irony in his voice, "Well enough to disparage the guest room''s bathroom."

    Amused by the remark, Ouray continued, "Are you talking about your precious marble bathroom from I-don''t-know-where?" He referred to one of the rooms Hadrian had renovated a few years ago to breathe life back into this manor in dire need of a facelift.

    Still offended, Hadrian exclaimed : "Calacatta marble. Ouray, he had the audacity to call it ''basic''! Basic!" The memory of the exorbitant cost of the imported marble was etched in his mind, and Zain''s comment had clearly irked him.

    Observing Hadrian''s reaction with amusement, Ouray noted : "He certainly seem to have a personality all of his own."

    He found it entertaining to see his friend getting bothered by the young man''s remarks. Indeed, the immortal often proved surprisingly sensitive to criticisms of trivial aspects of human life, such as architecture, creating a paradox at the core of his personality.

    Taking a moment to think, Hadrian remarked : "Given his character and tastes, I doubt he comes from the less fortunate neighborhoods areas of Redwaters."

    Ouray, realizing the importance of gathering more information about Zain, declared with determination : "It''s imperative that we learn more about him."

    Hadrian nodded before adding : "We already know he comes from afar. He asked me, ''What time will the suns rise? Plural.''"

    "Even though Fleur''s pendant seems to indicate that Zain isn''t a threat to us, we shouldn''t forget why we returned to town," Ouray reminded him, his expression serious.

    "The nightmares Fleur had..."

    "Her dream warnings were clear: ''On the full moon, it will begin.'' While we don''t yet know what that entails, Zain is likely connected to the series of disasters depicted in her nightmare and that might occur," Ouray explained.

    Perplexed by these words, Hadrian reminded him, his voice filled with confusion: "But you heard Zain calling for help in Fleur''s subconscious. You were the first to tell us to help him."

    Ouray agreed and calmly explained to him: "That''s correct. But don''t lose sight of the fact that he seems to possess considerable powers, to the extent that he''s being pursued across worlds by beings capable of controlling a creature like that Tracker to hunt him down. We need to find out why..."

    Visibly moved by these words, Hadrian replied: "But that''s our mission, isn''t it? To help those in need... It was our priority before the pursuit of the relics for The Order consumed all our time. It''s what we do best; it''s what you did for me."

    Emotions overwhelmed him as he remembered the pain of learning about the suffering of the supernatural beings that inhabited Redwaters, without him intervening or even suspecting their plight.

    Seeing his reaction, Ouray responded with conviction:

    "Of course, that''s what we''re destined to do. We''ll help Zain and restore balance for all oppressed and persecuted creatures, whatever the cost may be. I''m merely emphasizing that Za?n¡¯s appearance is not a coincidence. We need to gather as much information as possible about this situation to be prepared."

    Hadrian paused for a moment, searching for the best way to express himself. He murmured, his voice tinged with fascination:

    "The magical surge that emanated from Zain when he arrived tonight..."

    Ouray fixed Hadrian with an enigmatic gaze, his sparkling eyes reflecting ancient wisdom.

    "Yes, yet another mystery on the long list of things to uncover about him..."

    "I didn''t have an episode tonight. I was just a few meters from the river, the first time in decades, and nothing happened. I fought a giant spider, was involved in an accident that could have cost my loved ones their lives, and Fleur even confronted me with the secrets about Carolina, but still... nothing," he confided to his friend, clearly perplexed.

    Ouray nodded, his brows furrowed with interest.

    "Do you think this surge might have somehow alleviated your affliction? It would be incredible, considering that your curse has been impervious to magic so far," he suggested, shrouding the issue in mystery.

    Hadrian let out a sigh.

    "I don''t know, but it''s the first time in a long while that I feel like my mind is clearer... as if something has been swept away by this strange energy."

    Ouray raised a cautionary finger.

    "Hadrian, as relieved as I am to hear that you''re feeling better, especially after the recurring episodes since your return to town, I urge you to remain vigilant. Avoid any situation that might cause you to lose control, at least until we know more."

    Hadrian nodded slowly.

    "Don''t worry about me... I''m far from hoping for any improvement in my condition. I was just adding this piece to the puzzle that is Zain''s abilities."

    An enigmatic smile graced Ouray''s lips, revealing his deep insight.

    "Hadrian, don¡¯ you think it might be possible that, after all these years, all this suffering, she simply decides that the curse should finally end? That you''ve repented enough for the past?" he dared to ask.

    Sadness clouded Hadrian''s face.

    "I don''t think I deserve it myself, not today, not ever... So I doubt that she, in particular, would come to such an absurd conclusion."

    Ouray placed a comforting hand on his friend''s shoulder.

    "Redemption begins with oneself, Hadrian. With the belief that you can rebalance the scales. Doing good, helping others... It''s not just an act of contrition for you, but your destiny, and it counts for something."

    Hadrian let silence hang for a moment; his friend''s words resonated within him, but the guilt was too deeply ingrained for him to fully embrace them. Still, a part of him longed to believe.

    "And as for Fleur? We really need to try to make things right..." Hadrian said, eager to change the subject.

    Ouray nodded with determination.

    "I believe I have more to make up for in that regard than you do... I''ll take care of it tomorrow."

    He released a long, melancholic sigh before taking a sip from his steaming mug, filling the room with its intoxicating aromas. Hadrian, following his lead, downed the contents of his glass of whiskey.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Zain emerged from the bathtub, soaked to the bone, in search of a way to dry himself. He hurried over to the heated wall rack near the door and grabbed a clean towel. With a gentle gesture, he carefully dried himself off.

    Standing in front of the large bathroom mirror, Zain observed his reflection. His naked body was speckled with bruises, silent testimonies of his recent trials. He brushed his fingers against a cut on his abdomen, wincing in pain. Such injuries were not customary for him, or perhaps, he had simply forgotten them, like so many other things.

    Despite the soothing sensation of the warm bath easing his bruises, his mind was still in turmoil. Even though Hadrian and his companions had eventually shown themselves to be welcoming, and even though this house was a perfect sanctuary - regardless of what he said to Hadrian to annoy him - he couldn''t silence the voice in his head that warned him. And who could blame him? Nothing in this world felt familiar: nor the places, nor the climate, nor the people.

    The discovery of his powers might have offered him a glimmer of comfort, the certainty that he could defend himself if needed. However, the complete lack of control over these abilities only intensified his anxiety.

    In a short amount of time, Zain had managed to form an impression of each person he had just met. Their faces, expressions, voices, and gestures had left fleeting but significant imprints on his questing mind.

    Ouray inspired wisdom and trust in him, and Zain hoped he might help him find a remedy for the amnesia that hindered him. A deep sense of distress washed over him at the thought of Fleur feeling so betrayed by her friends, a bitterness that he oddly felt as if it were his own. He wondered if betrayal had also struck him before he was propelled through that portal into this strange world, or was he simply an emotional sponge for the feelings of those around him?

    Hadrian seemed impulsive in his convictions, like a man whose spontaneity had been silenced, a constant challenge for Zain, who couldn''t resist teasing him. His gaze, tinged with profound darkness, betrayed a burden he carried within. Even though he had just met him, Zain felt a deep empathy toward this tormented being and a burning desire to relieve the weight on his conscience. In Hadrian''s eyes, he saw both undeniable dignity and astonishing vulnerability, reasons that drew him to want to know him better.

    The young P¨¦ri left the bathroom and headed to the guest room''s closet in search of clean clothes. The closet contained an assortment of garments that, similar to the rest of the house, evoked no familiarity in him. A pile of T-shirts in various sizes was unfolded one by one but quickly put back. The pants, all too loose for him, met the same fate without hesitation.

    As Zain began to despair, ready to put on any rag in frustration, his eyes landed on a gorgeous violet silk robe, delicately hung among the coats. Finally, a garment with personality, he thought, as he removed the robe from its hanger to put it on. The silky sensation against his skin brought a smile to his lips, like a sweet memory. The violet fabric also reminded him of something familiar, though he couldn''t explain why.

    Tightening the robe''s slender belt around his waist, Zain moved to the large window to the right of the bed, where a charming, inviting window seat layed below. He settled in, eager to view the outside landscape. However, a thick fog obstructed his view, making the property''s garden barely discernible. The night seemed endless, even though Hadrian assured him that the single sun of this world would rise soon. "A single sun, what a strange tale," he unconsciously mused, gazing at the trees beyond the window.

    Suddenly, a bird appeared in front of the window, bursting out of the fog and taking Zain by surprise. His heart skipped a beat as he jumped on the window seat. In an instant, the bird swiftly flew away and disappeared again into the mist. Zain let out a sigh. He was way too agitated, mocking his own reaction to a simple bird after everything he had experienced that night. You''re being ridiculous, he scolded himself silently.

    Getting up from the window seat, Zain cast a hesitant look toward the spacious bed in the center of the room. His body longed for rest, but his mind seemed to have other plans, whirling at a frenetic pace. The young boy finally made the decision to leave the room, eager to discover the mysteries hidden in other corners of the mansion.

    With slow and silent steps, Zain made his way along the dark corridor that connected the guest room to the left part, at the top of the grand double staircase. His gaze wandered over the paintings adorning the walls of the long corridor, captivated by these works with fascinating colors, masterpieces from artistic movements he knew nothing about, but which stirred heightened sensitivity in him, impossible to ignore.

    The Victorian architecture of this mansion, the faint scent of humidity mixed with woody aromas, and the creaking floor under his bare feet all created a whirlwind of new sensations within him.

    As he reached the top of the staircase on the left, determined to wander until he could finally find sleep, Hadrian''s voice suddenly rang out :

    "You can''t sleep either?" he asked.

    Zain turned his head and spotted Hadrian standing at the other end of the corridor, at the top of the staircase on the right, just a few meters away from him. He nodded in agreement, confirming what his interlocutor had asked.

    The immortal made his way to Zain, shirtless and only dressed in a simple black jersey shorts, visibly just leaving his bed.

    "I see you''ve got your hands on Fleur''s robe..." Hadrian remarked, sporting a small smile as he saw the boy wearing the silk garment that was evidently too small for him.

    "I thought it was yours..." Zain quipped, displaying a nonchalant attitude that left no room for embarrassment.

    "Not really my style," replied Hadrian.

    "True, why bother with a robe when you can stroll around naked," Zain teased, surveying Hadrian.

    "That''s what I wear for training!" defended Hadrian, appearing somewhat embarrassed.

    Zain stared at him intensely, a mischievous smile on his lips :

    "Training for what exactly?" he quipped.

    A blush crept up on Hadrian''s cheeks, a reaction that hadn''t happened to him in a long time, piquing his intrigue.

    "Alright, you''ve got me! My name is Hadrian, and I''m a chronic exhibitionist. what about you? what''s YOUR excuse?" he joked, finally relaxing a bit.

    The boy smiled, amused:

    "I''m sorry, but my amnesia prevents me from participating in the revelations game."

    Hadrian smiled at him without adding anything, seemingly unconvinced by his explanation.

    "Okay, I admit that the robe might be a bit tight on me..."

    "A bit?" teased Hadrian, looking him up and down.

    "Alright, a lot then! Okay!" he reluctantly admitted before continuing, "But how could I resist the feel of silk against my skin?"

    "You didn''t need to resist; you just could have worn the matching pants. You''ll find them in the drawer under the coats," Hadrian added with a wink, a triumphant smile brightening his face.

    Zain blushed in turn. Pants? How could he have missed the pants? The boy was beginning to feel embarrassed, realizing that Hadrian had outsmarted him at his own game.

    "All of this wouldn''t have happened if a certain exhibitionist host had had the courtesy to lend me decent clothes! Did you see the stuff in that sad closet? I''d rather wear my own frocks despite their condition..." Zain defended himself in a frenzied tirade, his face growing increasingly red despite himself.

    "I might have a solution to your problem," Hadrian calmly interrupted, finally putting an end to his incessant complaints.

    "If this solution involves any form of training, I''ll stop you right there. I''ve already used muscles tonight that I didn''t even know existed!" Zain declared with a hint of sarcasm.

    "I have a better idea. I think I''m finally beginning to understand my audience..." replied Hadrian, evidently having something in mind, before turning back, heading toward his bedroom.

    "Are you coming?" he invited Zain, disappearing around the corner of the hallway.

    Curious about what the immortal had to show him, Zain quickly caught up with him.

    Stepping into Hadrian''s bedroom, Zain was instantly struck by the grandeur of the space before him. The room was at least twice the size of the one he occupied. A modern brass canopy bed majestically sat in the center of the suite, while a stone fireplace added a warm glow to the ambiance. The walls were adorned with intriguing paintings, each telling its own story. A magnificent chandelier hung from the ceiling, brilliantly illuminating the space, while an imposing oak desk stretched along the wall opposite the bed.

    Hadrian, standing on the other side of the room, patiently awaited for Zain to join him before opening the double wooden doors that stood before them, thus revealing a second space that left Zain in a state of almost dizzying wonder.

    "Welcome to my dressing room" Hadrian declared with a conspiratorial smile.

    But Zain was already absorbed by the vision before him. Stepping into the enormous room, he felt his breath catch at the abundance of storage, from floor to ceiling, dressed in fine woodwork overflowing with clothes of all kinds. Italian suits in vibrant colors, imported French cashmere sweaters, ties and unique ascots from England. An intoxicating scent of white pepper musk wafted through the air. In the midst of this giant closet, a piece of furniture displayed jewelry and watches of unparalleled rarity, and an entire wall was dedicated to an incredible collection of shoes. Zain moved as if in a trance, gently touching the fabrics with his fingertips, admiring the treasures that Hadrian had amassed throughout his long existence.

    Meanwhile, Hadrian watched Zain''s eyes light up with wonder, silently congratulating himself for successfully surprising him. It was a rare moment when Zain was momentarily speechless, captivated by the opulence surrounding him.

    "Hadrian... I think I''ll finally be able to get some sleep," Zain announced with bliss.

    "Pajamas are all the way at the back. They still won''t fit you, but they should do, at least compared to..." Hadrian cast one last teasing glance at Fleur''s robe that Zain was wearing, leaving little to the imagination about how it draped on the boy.

    Zain ignored his remark, too captivated by the sanctuary around him.

    "I''m going downstairs to train now. Feel free to take anything you want, really," Hadrian added.

    Zain''s eyes widened in surprise, like a child discovering the exquisite taste of dessert for the first time. He headed for the aforementioned pajamas while Hadrian was already leaving the room, his mission accomplished.

    The young prince remained incredulous about what he had just experienced. While he suspected that his host with the heavy accent hid multiple facets, he didn''t expect to discover such commonalities with him. This pleasant turn of events allowed him to lift the veil on an initial memory, suddenly reminding Zain that this evening was his nineteenth birthday.

 Chapter 5

    Fleur was pale, her complexion perfectly reflecting the turmoil within her. The young witch sneaked discreetly into the Creeks, which had been closed for several hours, to access her secret room, a sanctuary where she could assimilate her recent discoveries in complete privacy. Having already informed Elliot that she would spend the night at Hadrian''s to comfort him over his supposed breakup, she was determined to use this time to follow this new lead that had presented itself.

    Fleur was now convinced that her mother was genuinely trying to convey a message to her, urging her to open her eyes in her subconscious. The spell she had performed with Ouray revealed to her that Carolina had been associated with the witches of Abundance. She was certain that this group held crucial information about the circumstances surrounding her mother''s death, and perhaps even the reasons that might have driven her, if Garth''s theory proved correct, to create the magic-free zone where she had tragically taken her last breath.

    Fleur was astounded by the lack of consideration Ouray and Hadrian shown her. She, who had judged Darcey so harshly for her absence, was beginning to reassess her opinion of her. At least her grandmother had the honesty to distance herself from her instead of feigning a false sense of closeness, as she felt the Shaman had done with her.

    "Ouray and Darcey together... what an absurd idea, and why so many needless secrets?" she wondered, exhausted by this never-ending evening as dawn approached. But Fleur didn''t have the luxury of analyzing in detail all the reasons fueling her anger towards her two friends. She had work to do, a spell to cast, and this time she knew where to start.

    Fleur took the large city map she had already used to locate the clearing, as evidenced by the charred hole that had indicated the location in question. Placing the unfolded map on the magnificent Persian rug, she lit a candle and burned sage all around her, just above the city''s representation. Her anger made her more confident, her actions precise, her concentration heightened. Fleur took the small pink mini army knife, nestled in her pants pocket, and cut her palm. A grimace of pain contorted her face, as she noted, disenchanted : "it really seems less painful on TV." Her blood flowed onto the map as she began her incantation with a determined voice: "Abundatita maleficis, iter revelatum!"

    Drops of blood began to trace a path on the map, following their route until they stopped at a specific point at the edge of the city. Fleur sighed. She would have to drive a long way, but she had managed to find the lair of these witches her mother had once seemingly frequented, and she was about to get the answers to her questions. She didn''t need Ouray or Hadrian''s help, she could very well ride solo, and was about to prove it, she thought as she left the room, her face filled with renewed determination.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Hadrian parked his Jeep a few meters from the rear entrance of the Willard''s old residence. Darcey had finally given in and sold the property several years ago, overwhelmed by the painful memories associated with it. The immortal had spent a sleepless night, unlike Zain, who, after going through his wardrobe, had finally fallen into a deep sleep. Hadrian, on the other hand, had chosen to investigate, unable to find rest.

    He cast a nostalgic glance at the abandoned house, where life seemed to have violently frozen, a place suspended in time. It was where Carolina, that free spirit and caring mother to Fleur, had lived. Hadrian felt overwhelmed with emotion as he took one last look at the dilapidated building. He was determined to explore the area in the wake of their recent discoveries. He wanted to delineate the perimeter where magic had supposedly lost all effect and potentially find clues that had eluded them in the past. The mystery surrounding Carolina''s murder seemed to be finally unraveling, and Hadrian was determined to solve it. He owed it to Fleur, he thought as he walked the path at the entrance to the forest, just a few steps away from his friend''s former home.

    Hadrian ventured into the forest, recalling the shock he had felt upon learning of Carolina''s death. At the time, he and Ouray had already left town for quite some time, but they regularly kept in touch. They had actually spoken to Carolina just days before her murder, and she then sounded so happy on the phone, rediscovering a zest for life she had lost since her divorce from Fleur''s father, that insignificant man who had since abandoned his daughter.

    Suddenly, Hadrian''s heart raced, but it wasn''t anger at the injustice of his friend''s tragic disappearance that triggered this reaction, he realized for the first time. He had crossed the invisible threshold of the magic-free zone. To confirm the discovery, Hadrian took a few steps back, which immediately calmed the frantic beating of his heart. It was incredible!

    He knew he couldn''t linger inside the perimeter. Being sustained by occult forces, the absence of magic would eventually have a fatal effect on him. But Hadrian knew he could inspect the area for a few minutes, as he had done in the past. The experience had been unpleasant, even painful, but not fatal, assuming he didn''t stay there too long, thought the immortal as he approached this place that exerted an undeniable fascination over him.

    Indeed, he, burdened by his curse every day, condemned to perpetual suffering, weighed down by his guilt, was facing the possibility of ending it for the first time, thanks to this place that had the power to eliminate him. Hadrian was ashamed to admit that he had considered the idea since he had discovered the existence of such a place...

    His heart raced faster, and Hadrian continued his advance, his breath becoming increasingly short. His gaze suddenly fixed on a wooden cabin slightly hidden behind the trees to his right. It was the first time he had seen any kind of structure there, he was certain of it.

    Hadrian straddled the fallen logs on the trail in his way and pushed through the tall grass, stepping over it to reach the cabin. This run-down shack must belong to hunters, thought the immortal as he approached to learn more. He walked toward the old makeshift structure''s front door and tried to open it, but in vain, a lock blocking his entry.

    Hadrian, growing weaker due to the magical barrier, felt his strength wane. Despite that, he circled the cabin in search of a window that would allow him to peek inside. His face was dripping with sweat, his breath was uneven. As he moved forward, he noticed a porthole covered in a layer of dust obscuring the view, making it impossible to attempt to see what was inside. Realizing that in his current condition, he was unable to force the door open, Hadrian began to look for a stone to break the small window and attempt entering the cabin.

    As he crouched down to pick up a suitable rock, a shadow fell abruptly upon him. A violent blow from a rifle butt smashed against the back of his head, causing searing pain. The impact¡¯s frce was so great that Hadrian immediately lost consciousness, collapsing onto the green grass, his skull covered in blood, as darkness engulfed him, plunging him into unconsciousness.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Fleur finally arrived at her destination, a surprised look on her face as she parked her car in front of the location indicated by the spell. Before her stood a small bookstore named "Abundance." A sense of confusion overcame her. How could she end up in front of a bookstore specializing in what looked like fertility books when she was looking for the gathering place of the Abundance witches? Had there been an error in the spell? How could she have gone wrong? She had used a powerful location spell, not a faulty phone app... Had she missed a step in her casting due to fatigue, or had she simply been mistaken in thinking she could do it on her own?

    Discouraged, Fleur rested her head on the steering wheel, letting out an exhausted sigh. At that very moment, her car''s blaring horn jolted her, making her jump in her seat and bringing her back to reality. If she had come all this way, the witch felt she should at least explore this lead to its end, resigning herself to leave her vehicle and head into the bookstore, albeit with little conviction.

    Fleur entered the shop, triggering the chime hanging above the door. The main room of the store was small, bathed in a delicate dim light. Rustic shelves held a variety of books on meditation, spirituality, grief management, and other similar subjects, surrounded by various plants that created a serene and calming atmosphere. The exposed brick walls were adorned with canvases displaying inspiring and positive quotes that seemed to exude a benevolent energy.

    A young woman in her twenties, with glasses perched on her nose and brown hair tied up in a messy bun, was leaning behind the counter, opening a box at the back of the room. Startled by the chime, she looked up and was surprised to see Fleur.

    "You''re up bright and early, aren''t you? We''re not open yet. Come back in an hour!" she exclaimed toward the witch while continuing to open the box with a cutter.

    Fleur continued her approach, feeling uncertain about how to obtain the information she needed, increasingly convinced that she had taken the wrong path.

    "I don''t want to bother you. I''m not here for a book; I''m just looking for some information about this place," Fleur said, uncertain.

    The young woman raised her head from the box to look at her, seemingly not understanding her question.

    "Has this always been a bookstore?" Fleur asked.

    "It would be presumptuous to say always, but this space has been in my family for over forty years, if that''s what you''re asking," she replied while taking several books out of the box she had opened a few moments earlier.

    Over forty years...I must indeed be mistaken thought Fleur... She attempted one last approach.

    "Is there a nearby meeting place for..." she began.

    "If you''re looking for the Narcotics Anonymous meeting, it''s down the street, and it doesn''t start until one o''clock," the young woman interrupted, without looking up from the books she was carefully examining.

    "I''m looking for the meeting place of the Abundance witches. Does that ring a bell?" Fleur asked, finally determined to ask bluntly as a last resort.

    The young woman finally raised her eyes from her books and gently placed them back on the counter, looking at Fleur, clearly intrigued by her question.

    "Who are you?" she asked suspiciously.

    "My name is Fleur Willard, and I have reasons to believe that my mother used to come here when she was younger..."

    The bookseller stared at her closely, suspisciously. Fleur could sense that her question had elicited a strange reaction from this woman.

    "I think I may be able to help you," she finally uttered.

    Fleur was stunned; it seemed she hadn''t made this journey for nothing after all. The young brunette quickly opened the drawer in front of her, below the cash register, searching for something.

    "Really?! I thought I had really gotten the wrong place..." Fleur began to confess, but before she could finish her sentence, the stranger blew a green powder that she had gotten from the drawer in Fleur¡¯s face, causing her to immediately lose consciousness.

    Fleur collapsed, unconscious, on the floor of the bookstore.

    The mysterious woman then hurried to the front door and carefully locked it, then turned the sign indicating that the store was open, before lowering the blinds to cover the glass part of the door, plunging the already dimly lit room into total darkness.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Elliot had spent a restless night and woke up equally as troubled. He was convinced he had seen Fleur through the window of their apartment, arriving at Creeks in the middle of the previous night, while he was smoking a cigarette - a secret habit that he occasionally indulged in, unbeknownst to the young woman.

    In the past two days, Elliot hadn''t seen much of his fianc¨¦e, especially since Hadrian returned to town, and it weighed on him more than he was willing to admit. He had never been a possessive or co-dependent man, but he had also never been so deeply in love with someone in his life, and he terribly missed his beloved, as if he hadn''t seen her in weeks.

    Elliot had grown accustomed to spending all his free moments with her, sharing their days, laughing together at the most absurd details. The fact that she was absent so often while he was starting a new phase of his life as a police officer left him with a devastating sense of emptiness. "You''re being silly," he reasoned with himself. He could perfectly understand that Fleur needed to reconnect with her best friend back in town, to console him after his breakup with his boyfriend. Hadrian would probably do the same for her, and there was nothing abnormal about it.

    But that didn''t explain why Fleur would show up at the Creeks so late, well after it closed, if not to come home? And why couldn''t he reach her this morning when he tried to call her? Was he right to be worried, or was he just jealous that she decided to spend time with anyone other than him?

    His world revolved entirely around Fleur, making him irrational. Perhaps she had just come to pick up a bottle of alcohol from the Creeks'' stock for her night with her friends, he tried to reason with himself. And her phone must be off because of their late-night party. There was no reason to think that something had happened to her, especially since she had warned him in advance that she might spend the night at Hadrian''s.

    Elliot needed to learn to respect her space, to avoid becoming the clich¨¦ of the suffocating fianc¨¦ who would inevitably push her away. He suddenly realized that he was far from his wild college years being a player to all the girls on campus. But at that time, no Fleur Willard had crossed his path yet. He remembered with vivid clarity their first meeting. She exuded confidence and nonchalance, a natural charm that required no effort, and she was so beautiful. He was immediately captivated, while she barely seemed to notice him.

    He recalled their first date, how he felt both at ease and disarmed in her presence, her contagious laughter, and the pretty pastel blue dress she wore, which made her green eyes stand out, making him blush like a child every time they settled on him.

    Asking Fleur to marry him was the best decision he had ever made, Elliot had never been so sure of anything in his life. That''s why he was so disappointed when his mother, Patricia, disapproved of his choice, deeming him too young for such a commitment. This arbitrary stance had created a glacial atmosphere and a great distance between her and Fleur, depriving his mother of the opportunity to truly get to know her.

    Elliott''s mother even refused to give her son the family ring that his grandmother had left to him in anticipation of his future marriage. But the young man eventually had his way, not caring in the least about his mother''s opinion of the woman who, without a doubt, was the love of his life. Patricia Samuels was the last person who could offer advice on love or relashionships, given the endless list of idiots she had chosen to marry one after the other. Elliot never missed an opportunity to remind her of that whenever she made disparaging remarks about Fleur.

    Elliott was eager to start his own family with his fianc¨¦e. He hoped that one day he could offer their future children the stability that had been sorely lacking in their respective childhoods, so they could finally turn the page on their painful pasts, together. The young officer quickly finished his cup of coffee before heading out. He would give Fleur space starting tomorrow, but today, he had to make sure she was safe.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Za?n woke up with difficulty, his eyelids slowly lifting to confront the intense morning light now flooding the guest room where he had finally collapsed hours earlier.

    The young man''s mind was filled with a certain confusion. "Where am I?" he wondered, struggling to recognize the outlines of the space around him. Was his incredible adventure from the night before even real? Had he really been transported to this new world through a magical portal? Had he been pursued by a ruthless giant spider and then rescued by a group of mysterious strangers who, initially hostile, had eventually taken him in? And had he truly lost a significant portion, if not all, of his past memories? But above all, was he left to his own devices in this improbable adventure?

    A brutal feeling of panic seized him, twisting his being as if fear had suddenly struck him. The boy, who had been lying on the bed until then, sat up, placing a trembling hand on his chest and attempting to take deep breaths to calm his anxiety, step by step. His heart, which had been racing like a wild symphony, gradually began to calm down, as did his breathing, as Zain slowly came back to himself. What a dreadful awakening, he noted nervously.

    He was at Hadrian''s. Hadrian... Hadrian, Ouray, and Fleur had saved him. Zain had remembered that it was his nineteenth birthday the day before, and he had discovered his magical abilities that he hadn''t yet mastered... A good start, all in all...

    His mind was beginning to clear, but his body still bore the marks of the events from the previous day. Although this new world had only one sun, the lonely celestial body was performing its role as well as the two he seemed to be accustomed to, intensifying his headache and flooding the room with its dazzling light.

    Za?n painfully left the bed, furrowing his brows to protect his eyes while massaging his temples. He felt an urgent need to freshen up to dispel the fog clouding his vision.

    The young man now stood in the bathroom, letting the cool water caress his face, slowly reviving his mental faculties, piecing together the missing parts of the puzzle of the events that had led him to this precise moment.

    Za?n looked at his reflection in the mirror when his attention was drawn to a bright green sticky note attached to the glass, bearing an inscription in black ink. Intrigued, he peeled off the piece of paper and tried to decipher its content.

    In the same way as when he first had heard Fleur, Ouray, and Hadrian speak in their language for the first time, the inscription on the small piece of paper initially seemed completely incomprehensible. But as he stared at the mysterious characters etched on the green paper, he felt as if these enigmatic symbols were magically levitating in the air, penetrating his mind, lifting an invisible veil, and eventually allowing him to understand their meaning.

    "Coffee in the kitchen" he finally managed to decipher. The word was signed with a simple "H."

    Za?n flashed a smile. He had no idea what that "coffee" Hadrian was referring to in his note was, but he hoped it might help alleviate his pounding headache.

    The young man adjusted the blue silk pajama pants borrowed from Hadrian, tightening them around his waist and shortening them slightly by rolling the elastic band, to avoid tripping over the oversized piece of clothing, then left the bathroom.

    Zain walked into the spacious kitchen and made his way to the imposing beige marble central island. On it sat a filled coffee pot, a gray mug, and a sugar bowl. Similar to the sticky note he found on the bathroom mirror, post-it notes were attached to these items, identifying them for his use.

    The boy settled awkwardly on one of the stools surrounding the massive stone block, the silk of his pajamas sliding his body clumsily down the seat. He then poured a steaming cup of coffee, brought the beverage to his lips, and took a sip, which he almost immediately spat out, surprised by its extreme bitterness. Zain grimaced as he placed the cup back on the island, shocked by the unpleasant experience. Did the people in this world actually enjoy this dreadful drink, or was it another one of Hadrian''s ideas of a joke?

    He stood up from the uncomfortable stool and picked up a sugar cube, now eyeing it with suspicion after this disastrous first tasting. Finally, he decided to put it in his mouth. The sugar began to pleasantly melt on his tongue, delighting his palate. "Finally, some sweetness," he thought as he chewed on the piece then swallowed it , washing away the bitterness.

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Zain hesitated for a few seconds before taking the sugar bowl with him, seemingly enchanted by the soothing effects of its contents on his body, before going searching for a suitable outfit for the day among the pile of clothes he had requisitioned from Hadrian''s wardrobe the night before.

    He left the kitchen and headed for the stairs to return to the guest room, taking a fresh look around as he went. The striking contrast with the previous night made the daylight-flooded atmosphere now seem almost unreal. Every detail, from the well-lit walls to the delicate contours of the beautiful rosewood front door, appeared to come to life before his astonished eyes.

    Interrupting his contemplation, the sound of the doorbell suddenly rang through the air, piercing the silence. Zain jumped, his heart leaping in his chest like a wild animal seeking to escape its cage. The doorbell echoed throughout the manor, amplifying the uncertainty and apprehension that filled the young man''s soul.

    Frozen in place, Zain began weighing his options. Should he answer this mysterious call or retreat into the shadows to avoid this intrusion? Hadrian hadn''t left any post-it notes on the best way to handle this situation, Zain lamented, now deeply confused.

    To regain some semblance of calm, Zain delicately placed yet another sugar cube in his mouth. The soothing effect of the small white treat was quickly felt, gradually dissipating his anxieties. However, he remained uncertain about the course of action. With hesitant steps, he finally made his way to the front door, but the uncertainty persisted. The doorbell rang once more, demonstrating the determination of the person on the other side of the door. A bigger doubt took hold of Zain. Perhaps it was an emergency... Taking a deep breath, he finally made up his mind and opened the door, coming face to face with Elliott.

    "Hello" Said the lieutenant Samuels, surprised to see Zain open the door.

    "Hello," Zain responded, his expression one of surprise, still not knowing who this man was or what his intentions might be.

    "I''m Fleur''s fianc¨¦, Elliott Samuels" he introduced himself.

    Nice pick, Fleur, Zain silently acknowledged, admiring Elliott''s undeniably attractive physique.

    "I''m Zain," he introduced himself in turn.

    Elliott observed him for a moment in a slightly awkward silence. Who was this boy? Had he come to the wrong manor? They were in Redwaters, not Beverly Hills where the mansions were competing in numbers; so there was little chance of that... Suddenly, Elliott noticed Hadrian''s initials embroidered on the long silk pajama shirt Zain was wearing, which led him to hastily deduce : "You must be Hadrian''s ex-boyfriend!"

    "Ex-boyfriend?" Zain repeated, astonished. Did that word really mean what he thought it did?

    "I mean boyfriend, since you apparently spent the night here and are wearing his pajamas this morning," Elliott noted, briefly interrupted by a moment of embarrassment before continuing, "Does this mean you two have gotten back together?" He couldn''t help but add, mixing embarrassment and almost juvenile excitement at the prospect of a possible reconciliation between Hadrian and his ex, which would allow him to go back to his usual routine with Fleur.

    "I''m not sure what''s going on... I just got here last night..." Zain replied, struggling to process the informations resulting from this disturbing exchange.

    "I''m sorry, I didn''t mean to be intrusive..." Elliott quickly apologized, realizing that he was already bombarding the young man with personal questions that early in day . Professional deformation...

    As he observed Zain more, Elliott couldn''t help but add : "It''s weird, you don''t look much older than my little sister..." He said surprised by the boy''s youthful appearance and, by extension, at the age gap between him and Hadrian. Thinking back, Fleur had indeed told him that Hadrian''s ex was younger when Elliott had asked her if Ouray and the Englishman were a couple. But younger than Ouray, he then thought, not trophy boyfriend young¡­

    "I''m nineteen" Zain retorted almost mechanically, feeling quite annoyed. No one was going to pass judgement on who he could supposedly date or not, not here or anywhere else. He wasn''t a child anymore.

    "As long as it''s legal, it''s none of my business" Elliott quickly regained his composure, though his somewhat judgmental look betrayed him. The lieutenant added finally, having strayed from the topic that had originally brought him there : "Is Fleur still here?"

    Zain easily understood that Elliott was unaware of his fianc¨¦e''s activities and that he needed to keep his responses as vague as possible to avoid further complicating the already intricate situation.

    "No, she''s gone... with Hadrian... to get something to eat! They''ll be back later," Zain stammered as a quick excuse, feeling extremely uncomfortable. But where was Fleur if her fianc¨¦ was looking for her?

    "Could you tell her I stopped by and tried to reach her?" Elliott asked.

    "Of course" Zain replied curtly, now impatient to end the conversation and assess the situation.

    "Welcome to town, Zain. I hope things work out between you and Hadrian," Elliott said as a goodbye.

    "Me too..." Zain mumbled, barely hearing him, already absorbed in his thoughts.

    Elliott waved and headed back to his car, while Zain closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a long sigh, confused.

    Hadrian had an ex-boyfriend? Zain''s emotions were all over the place, and he couldn''t seem to control them. He popped another sugar cube into his mouth, realizing that he was clearly becoming addicted to this devilish sweetness. He wasn''t sure if discovering Hadrian''s orientation overwhelmed him, or if he actually got jealous at the mere mention of the immortal''s ex. Zain felt ridiculous... Did this mean he found Hadrian attractive? "No, enough with the nonsense, Zain" he stopped himself : "Would Hadrian really date guys?" Zain couldn''t help but smile at the thought, but immediately snapped out of it. Amnesia or not, this wave of disturbing emotions felt way too premature. "Stop thinking about his gray eyes," he tried to convince himself, "Stop thinking about it!"

    There were more urgent matters at hand.

    What concerned him the most were Fleur''s whereabouts, missing since the argument the previous night. Finding the manor deserted upon waking up, Zain had deduced that Hadrian and Ouray must have gone in search of the witch early in the morning, had probably already found her, and that it wouldn''t take long before they¡¯d all return... A bad feeling began to creep over him. "Had they run into trouble? Had they put themselves in danger?" "Stop worrying so much, especially since there''s nothing more you can do other than wait for their return," he reasoned with himself.

    "They''re all fine."

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Tucker couldn''t believe it. After all those years spent hunting the parasites infesting Redwaters, his hard work had finally paid off. He had managed to capture who he considered to be the most dangerous specimen of all: Hadrian Archer. Tucker stood in the cabin facing him, a sadistic smile stretching his lips, while Hadrian was tied to an old rusty chair, his face pale and marked by the violent blow he had received.

    Just the day before, Tucker had watched Hadrian jump into the air, ready to confront a gigantic creature. But now, Hadrian seemed far from his heroic exploits. He was clearly defenseless, and for Tucker, that was a source of satisfaction.

    Hadrian began to regain his senses. The interior of the cabin was dark and damp, making it difficult to perceive his surroundings as he laboriously tried to lift his head. The immortal was at the end of his strength, having spent nearly half an hour inside the area devoid of magic, slowly draining the curse that kept him alive. His body was on the verge of giving in, forever.

    Finally, Hadrian could discern Tucker''s silhouette, standing in front of him, with his back to the door, clutching a hunting knife in his hands. A malevolent smile spread across his face.

    "Sheriff Tucker... What does all this mean?" Hadrian asked weakly.

    "Hadrian Archer, we finally have the opportunity to talk, without pretenses..." Tucker replied in a tone devoid of any humanity.

    "Is it you who is responsible for all this? For these senseless massacres of innocents?" Hadrian inquired, seeking to understand.

    "Innocents? Those abominable creatures that hide among us and attack our children!" Tucker retorted, his anger coming through in his words.

    "Attack? Attack?! These creatures you speak of are peaceful, most of them entirely harmless! YOU are the real monster in this story!" Hadrian replied, rejecting Tucker''s accusations.

    "If I''m the monster in this story, what does that make you, the hero?" Tucker gave a mocking smile before approaching Hadrian, delivering a powerful punch that split his lip, causing a burst of blood. Hadrian held his gaze defiantly, his composure not wavering as Tucker continued his discourse.

    "I know who you really are, Hadrian. I''ve done my research on you. The records with your name date back as far as the time of the town''s creation, even before that..."

    "I know, I was involved in the creation of this town" Hadrian replied calmly.

    Tucker continued, "You''ve done more than that; we have more in common than you seem willing to admit... You''re the Englishman behind the bloody battle of Redwaters. You''re the reason we exist today, why the city bears its name."

    Hadrian lowered his head, consumed by guilt. He couldn''t deny the facts presented by Tucker.

    "I was young, stupid, jealous! I made a mistake for which I''ve been paying for every day for hundreds of years, a mistake I can never repent for! But you systematically go after defenseless creatures in the name of a ludicrous ideology!" Hadrian tried to justify himself, referring to the parallel Tucker drew between them. Tucker''s words brought him back to his conversation with Ouray the night before. There was a significant difference between the two men: Hadrian was aware of the wrong he had done, while Tucker refused to acknowledge his responsibility and seemed determined to continue perpetrating it.

    "There''s nothing absurd about wanting to protect our own, and if you hadn''t been turned into one of them, you''d be fighting alongside us today, I''m sure!" Tucker shouted insistently.

    "I have nothing in common with you and your gang of degenerate and barbaric fanatics. I know what I''ve done, and I live with that burden on my conscience every day." protested Hadrian against his accusation

    Suddenly, Hadrian noticed the photos of faces displayed on the cabin''s walls around him. Hundreds of pictures of men, women, and children, all marked with a red marker cross. These snapshots represented their victims, all supernatural creatures slaughtered by this group. They proudly displayed their murders. Hadrian was overcome with disgust as he recognized some faces while also deploring the youth of other victims on different portraits. His disgust grew even more when he saw the familiar photo of Carolina Willard, igniting a blaze of rage within him.

    "Carolina" he muttered.

    "She was our greatest catch, until you today! Most of the vermin in Redwaters lived their miserable existence in solitude, but she was different. She helped other creatures, bringing them together, strengthening their community, even integrating them into our respectable society!"

    Hadrian was beside himself. It was precisely all these human qualities that had made Carolina an exceptional being that had tragically led to her demise. What was worse, it was because she had helped other creatures in need, as Hadrian should have done himself, that she had become a target for these despicable individuals. But how had this bunch of idiots managed to take on a witch of her caliber?

    "How?" Hadrian asked in a dark tone, fixing his gaze on Tucker, who displayed a sadistic smile in the face of his suffering.

    "I guess that since you''re dying anyway, I could tell you¡­ Carolina might have thought of herself as different, but she shared a common weakness with all women. She wanted to believe in love. Stupid fool."

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Fleur slowly regained her senses, feeling the cold touch of the concrete floor beneath her body. She founf herself in what appeared to be some kind of industrial loft. She cautiously got up, scanning her surroundings. The room was spacious, with walls covered in vibrant esoteric symbols. In the center of the room, a spiral staircase seemed to lead to a second floor.

    "What happened to me?" Fleur wondered, on guard and sensing an unpleasant earthy taste in her mouth.

    She vaguely remembered her conversation with the young bookstore owner. The woman had claimed to be able to help her learn more about the Abundance witches and her mother''s past before she plunged into total darkness. It was evident that that girl was responsible for this trap, and Fleur needed to escape quickly or find a way to contact her friends.

    She took a few cautious steps in search of an exit, but was suddenly violently pushed back by an invisible force, falling to the ground from the impact of an electric shock. Looking around her at the ground level, Fleur noticed that she was surrounded by black crystals, forming a magical circle on the concrete, keeping her captive at its center.

    "Fuck" Fleur muttered as she got up, quickly searching for a solution to get out of this predicament.

    The sound of heels echoing on the metal stairs announced someone''s imminent arrival.

    "Think fast" Fleur thought, suddenly panicking.

    "Destruam circulus," chanted the witch, her arms outstretched towards the crystals that imprisoned her, hoping to break the magical barrier, but in vain.

    A woman in her fifties, with brown hair cascading over her shoulders, dressed in a long black leather coat matching her thigh-high boots, appeared at the top of the stairs. She confidently approached Fleur, her steely gaze expressing unwavering determination, and spoke in a hoarse voice:

    "Don''t tire yourself out. Your magic doesn''t work within this circle."

    "Yet another magic-less place? It seems to be the new trend," Fleur retorted, annoyed.

    "It''s just a circle of Peruvian crystals, effective enough but incomparable to the scale of the spell you seem to be referring to. I deduce that you''ve finally discovered the magic-free perimeter in the forest. I had tried to dissuade your mother from performing the spell back then."

    "You knew my mother?" Fleur immediately became excited, unable to hide her interest.

    "Yes, we were Abundance sisters. My name is Marsha, and I apologize for the forceful intervention of Rose; my daughter tends to panic under pressure," she explained in a calm, almost reassuring tone.

    "So, that was your daughter? Personally, when I panic, my first instinct is not to magically incapacitate the first unarmed person I come across..." Fleur exclaimed, exasperated by this bizarre situation.

    "It had been a long time since anyone showed up with knowledge of our existence," Marsha justified.

    "Where are we exactly?" Fleur asked, scanning her surroundings again for clues about their location.

    "Right behind the bookstore. This is where we used to gather back in the day, all the Abundance sisters," Marsha replied.

    Fleur couldn''t help but silently congratulate herself on her tracking spell working, even though she had doubted her abilities when she first arrived at the bookstore. Of course, now that she was being held hostage by this woman, she might have been better off if the spell had failed, in hindsight.

    "Alright, now that you know who I am and that I pose no threat to you, can you release me?" Fleur cautiously suggested.

    "Not so fast. You came seeking information about your mother, about what happened to her. I''m willing to tell you what I know, but on one condition" stated the charismatic speaker, displaying a suspicious demeanor.

    "What do you want from me?" Fleur asked, on her guards, aware of the traps that might be hidden behind such an offer.

    "Today, the number of sisters is so reduced that it''s nearly impossible for me to perform the spells I need..." the stranger began.

    "You want me to join your sisterhood? You have a odd way of asking!" Fleur replied with a hint of amusement, finding this aggressive recruitment approach unconvincing.

    "Join us? And have your friends Hadrian and Ouray on our trail, or even worse, your grandmother? Poking their noses into my business... certainly not! We''re not looking for your physical presence. I need what''s essential for the successful execution of any ritual of significance, the very thing that led you to us today," the stranger explained, maintaining an air of mystery.

    "You want my blood?" Fleur concluded, incredulous at this deduction.

    Marsha snapped her fingers while incanting : "Sella" conjuring a chair on which she sat comfortably in front of Fleur, still trapped within the circle of black crystals. The brown-haired witch crossed her legs, getting comfortable, while a mischievous smile appeared on her lips before she asked : "So, Fleur Willard, what do you say?"

    Fleur knew very well that she had no guarantee that this woman would use her blood wisely if she agreed to give itto her, but she was so close to getting the answers she had been waiting for. She would find a way to circumvent this dubious agreement in due time, but for now, she needed to hear what Marsha could reveal.

    "Very well. But first, tell me, why would my mother create this magic-free zone in the woods so close to our old home?" Fleur asked, eager to uncover the truth.

    Marsha displayed a victorious smile before answering, "If that''s truly what you want... What do you know about your parents'' love story?"

    Fleur felt a lump forming in her throat, a slight apprehension gripping her.

    Fleur looked at her, taken aback. "That''s a strange question..." She felt vulnerable, as if Marsha was trying to dig into her intimacy. But it was too late to turn back.

    "I know what i remember from my childhood, and some stories they told me... My father was a foreigner who came from France to Redwaters as part of an exchange program. My mother was very young, and they fell in love. It was a passionate love with its ups and downs, more downs than ups in my memory..." Fleur lowered her gaze, reminiscing about the difficult moments in her parents'' relationship. She was torn between the love and pain that had marked their lives.

    "''Fleur'' was the first French word my father taught my mother. He had drawn a sunflower with a marker on her hand, which later led to the idea of giving me that uncommon name. In hindsight, it could have been way worse if they had named me ''Sunflower'' instead..." Fleur gave a shy smile as she shared these intimate details, clearly affected by what would come next. A hint of sadness crossed her eyes, recalling the painful memories she had buried inside.

    "My father never expressed the desire to be a part of my life after my mother''s passing. Given that we had never been close before due to their frequent separations and his trips back and forth to France, I didn''t try to hold onto him either. It wasn''t my place; I was just a child..." Fleur''s words were tinged with bitterness and disappointment. She still felt the sting of her father''s abandonment, a wound that had left an indelible mark on her heart.

    "What does my parents'' story have to do with all of this?" Fleur asked, regaining her composure and becoming somewhat suspicious again.

    Marsha stared at her, hesitant, before deciding to reveal :

    "The reason I''m asking you this, is because your father is the reason your mother created this magic-free zone."

    Fleur felt her stomach knotting.

    "What do you mean?" she asked in a trembling voice, her curiosity mixed with concern.

    "When your father discovered that your mother was a witch, he freaked out. He questioned their entire relationship, even going so far as to believe that his feelings for her were artificial, the result of a spell..."

    Fleur felt a pang in her heart as she imagined the distress her mother must have felt in the face of her father''s doubts.

    "Your mother used to sneak out to the woods adjacent to your old house to meet him for secret rendez-vous since the beginning of their romance. So, she decided to remove the magic from that area they cherished, to prove to him each time they would meet there that magic played no part in their relationship. It became their sanctuary, away from everyone, a place where not even Darcey could locate them."

    Fleur felt a wave of sadness and understanding washing over her. She could almost imagine her mother, desperately trying to preserve their love.

    "Oh my God" she murmured, absorbing Marsha''s revelations. Her thoughts filled with compassion for her mother and a certain apprehension about her own future as well.

    "But you can understand her better than anyone, can''t you? You find yourself in a similar predicament today, engaged to a man who knows nothing about your condition. What makes you think he would react any differently from your father? Carolina, despite her many attempts, couldn''t bridge the gap that discovering she was a witch created between your parents, and that zone that was once the stage of their romance ultimately became her grave."

    Marsha''s words struck a chord with Fleur, reminding her of her own fears and the fragility of her happiness. She cast a dark look at Marsha. The woman had touched upon an extremely sensitive issue. She feared more than anything that Elliott would reject her upon discovering her true nature as a witch, and this revelation only exacerbated her anxiety about losing the man she loved. It was clear that her mother had made considerable efforts to shield her relationship from the consequences of a similar revelation, but it had been in vain, and it had cost her life. Marsha''s harsh words, lacking compassion on this delicate subject, seemed to indicate some resentment towards her mother. Fleur felt a compelling need to uncover the cause of this antagonism in a woman who yet presented herself as one of Carolina''s friends.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Resting on the window seat in the guest room, Za?n casually flipped through the pages of a fashion magazine he had found. It was a collection of images featuring increasingly extravagant outfits. A discovery that fascinated him, though he couldn''t concentrate.

    Dressed in a slightly oversized gray tracksuit, Za?n wondered how this same outfit could fit the much larger frame of Hadrian, from whom he had borrowed it the day before.

    But where was Hadrian?

    Worry washed over him. Neither Ouray, nor Fleur, nor the immortal had shown any sign of life, and his sense of foreboding grew. They were in danger. However, Za?n felt utterly powerless about it. He knew nothing about this world and had no means to help them.

    He placed the magazine on the bench and gazed out of the window at the garden. Za?n closed his eyes, attempting to clear his mind. Perhaps he unconsciously possessed the power to locate Hadrian and the others with the abilities he had discovered the day before but still knew little about. He tried concentrating, however, despite his efforts, he couldn''t locate them. He reopened his eyes, frustrated, unsure of where to start.

    Memories of the previous night came flooding back. He remembered how he had miraculously lifted Hadrian off the ground when the giant spider had captured him, harnessing his fear. Then, it was his concentration that had allowed him to propel himself out of the car and stop the vehicle as it sped toward him. Emotion and concentration, that was finally a starting point.

    Za?n closed his eyes again, focusing his efforts directly on Hadrian this time. Long seconds passed, but still nothing. He opened his black eyes, even more discouraged than before. What use were his magical powers if he couldn''t use them when it mattered most?

    His gaze wandered again through the window, lost in thought, searching for another course of action, feeling more limited than ever.

    Suddenly, he saw a shape emerging from the trees surrounding the manor. It was the translucent specter of a white wolf, bathed in a purple glow similar to the one that had left his body upon his arrival in Redwaters. The phantom animal moved towards his window, fixing him with a benevolent gaze, as if trying to convey a message.

    Za?n felt an inexplicable connection with the creature and immediately understood that its presence could help him find the others. As the wolf let out a long howl toward the window, clearly calling him to join, Za?n felt a sudden urgency. He quickly put on a large black blazer over his gray tracksuit and slipped into a pair of Gucci Pricetown burgundy mules, the only shoes in his size he had found in Hadrian''s closet. He then rushed down the stairs, descending them at breakneck speed to reach the supernatural animal that had appeared in the garden.

    Za?n finally found the wolf, standing still at the back of the property, waiting for him. The boy stood in front of the animal and stared at it for a moment. The wolf exuded an aura of goodness mixed with an inexplicable and communicative sadness, which overwhelmed Za?n. Something horrible had happened to this harmless creature, and it made his stomach churn.

    "I''m sorry for what happened to you," he whispered, his words filled with empathy.The wolf looked into his eyes before turning around and heading toward the gate at the back of the manor. Za?n hurriedly followed, calling out : "Wait for me!"

    The phantom creature continued on, leaping through the gate effortlessly, its immaterial body passing through the rusted metal.

    Za?n watched the scene in disbelief, struggling to open the weathered gate, which finally gave way after several attempts. He joined the wolf outside the manor, on the stretch of road that ran alongside Hadrian''s property, surrounded by the forest.

    The purple wolf casted one last glance at Za?n before emitting a mystical howl toward the woods, beckoning the young prince to follow. Without hesitation, Za?n sighed determinedly and ran after the animal, reassessing the uncanny situation he was putting himself in. He was about to follow a phantom wolf through the woods in an unfamiliar world, hoping to come to the aid of people he had just met. His mind was filled with uncertainty and apprehension, but also with a natural determination. He may have forgotten who he was, but he could instinctively feel what he was not: the type to back down in the face of danger.

 Chapter 6

    Hadrian felt it deeply, the clock of his life was inexorably ticking away. He was trapped in that dark cabin, alone with Tucker. The gnawing pain that tortured him seemed almost eased by the prospect of finally uncovering the tragic fate of his friend Carolina.

    His voice, barely audible, shattered the stifling silence of the cabin.

    "What do you mean by ''she wanted to believe in love''?" Hadrian struggled to utter the words, his body weakened by the magic-deprived perimeter that was sapping the last remnants of the curse keeping him alive.

    Tucker gazed at him with sadistic satisfaction. He didn''t care about revealing the truth at this stage, knowing that Hadrian was losing himself in the throes of agony.

    "The magic-free perimeter was designed by Carolina herself," he finally explained, his words resonating in the heavy air of the cabin. "She wanted to prove to her ex-husband that she wasn''t controlling him with magic. By demonstrating that no spell could persist inside the perimeter, she dispelled all his doubts about her sincerity. Any supernatural veil would have been lifted by the absorption of magic in this forest. It was their secret refuge, a place free from any illusions, removed from the influence of her grandmother and they were the only ones who knew of its existence."

    Hadrian stared at Tucker with a confused expression. While Tucker''s revelations seemed truthful, they only added a layer of mystery to this dark case. The fact that Carolina had created this isolated, magic-free zone to meet her ex-husband without the supernatural artifices that could influence their interactions was now clear. However, it still didn''t answer the crucial question: why was Carolina there that night? Her ex-husband had left town for France several years ago. Moreover, how had Tucker and his gang discovered the existence of this secret place and anticipated Carolina''s presence that night?

    Tucker suddenly walked to a corner of the room, opening a closet from which he retrieved a vintage flip phone, clearly dating back to the early 2000¡¯s. He brandished it in front of Hadrian.

    "What''s this?" Hadrian asked, his intrigue lighting up his gaze.

    "It belonged to Carolina" Tucker replied, a sardonic smile on his lips.

    Hadrian shuddered. "Carolina''s phone was found near her body, and all the calls she made or received were thoroughly examined after her death."

    Tucker shook his head. "Not exactly. This is the secret phone she had for years, and only one person knew the number. Someone who returned to town a few days before her death and sent her a message that night."

    Tucker turned on the old phone, clumsily navigating through the outdated menus until he found what he was looking for. He then handed the device in front of Hadrian¡¯s face so he could read the SMS displayed on the screen.

    The immortal, his vision blurred, struggled to decipher the message, which took him a few precious seconds. "Meet me in our woods, I have good news to share, I love you," he read in a low voice.

    The message came from a contact saved as "Amour." Hadrian''s heart tightened in his chest. "Amour" was the nickname Carolina used for her ex-husband, her eternal love, Fleur''s father. Everything now pointed to him, suggesting that he had lured her into the woods that night and was therefore behind her betrayal and murder.

    A sinister laugh escaped from Tucker''s lips, a demonic melody in the face of Hadrian''s astonishment. With a quick motion, he closed the flip phone, carefully hiding it in his pocket.

    "You''re beginning to understand why I called her stupid, aren''t you?" Tucker asked with a cruel smile.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Marsha gazed at Fleur with her enigmatic eyes. The young red-haired witch, held captive within the circle of magical crystals, was seeking a way to prolong the time, hoping to uncover the true connections that linked the mysterious woman facing her to her late mother. A palpable tension hung in the air as Fleur already feared that her interlocutor might decide to reap the fruits of the revelation that had partially illuminated the enigma of Carolina''s tragic death.

    "Tell me more!" Fleur suddenly exclaimed. "My parents had been separated for years before her death. Why was she in those woods that night? Who could have known she would be there, defenseless?"

    Marsha impatiently rose from her chair, making the furniture vanish with a simple snap of her fingers. She walked decisively towards Fleur, her face expressing deep displeasure.

    "This wasn''t our arrangement, Fleur," she said sharply. "You wanted to find out why your mother created that magic-free zone near your house, and you got that. As far as I know, only your parents were aware of the existence of that place."

    Fleur replied in a calm yet resolute tone : "But you were aware."

    For a brief moment, Marsha appeared disoriented. "Excuse me?"

    "Earlier, when I woke up, you told me that my mother confided in you about her intention to create such a place before casting the spell, and that you even tried to dissuade her..."

    Marsha''s previously impassive gaze showed a hint of uncertainty. Fleur had managed to shake her facade.

    "Your mother and I were friends. It''s not surprising that she confided in me." she replied.

    "What''s surprising is that you tried to conceal this information by claiming that only my parents knew about this place. Equally troubling is why you kept this information a secret all these years when it could have helped solve the mystery of my mother''s death."

    Marsha tensed further, while Fleur, resolutely, continued her questioning.

    "What are you insinuating?" Marsha asked defensively.

    "I''m just stating the facts, insinuations will naturally follow." Fleur replied with newfound confidence.

    "I have no connection to your mother''s murder." Marsha declared, wavering between anger and frustration.

    Fleur persisted :"But you have everything to do with keeping information that could have contributed to its resolution secret. The lingering question is: why?"

    Marsha, taking on a more aggressive tone, tried to deflect suspicion : "You''re getting off track and shifting the focus. Your suspicions should be directed at the obvious culprit in this case, whether you want to acknowledge it or not: your father!"

    Fleur was troubled by this accusation. Even though she had never held a high regard for the man who had abandoned her many years ago, she couldn''t imagine her father playing a role in her mother''s death. Was it even possible? Was that why he had disappeared from her life after Carolina''s death, out of guilt or to avoid being caught? Fleur was now engulfed in a storm of doubts.

    Marsha, on the other hand, spoke up, her hardened look expressing unwavering inflexibility.

    "You want my opinion, Fleur? I believe that besides refusing to face reality, you''re just looking for a way to evade your contractual obligations, which would be not only disappointing but simply impossible, I''m afraid."

    Marsha conjured an empty syringe into the palm of her hand, holding it prominently as she fixed an inquisitive stare on Fleur. The young red-haired witch, overwhelmed by anxiety, was in a heightened state of tension. Between the prospect of her father''s potential involvement in her mother''s death and the imminent obligation to provide her blood to this woman with murky intentions, she felt completely cornered, trapped in a terrifying deadlock.

    Marsha extended the syringe toward Fleur but met the magical barrier that kept her confined within the circle of crystals. The two women exchanged glances, with the older witch realizing she had to release Fleur to let her to fulfill her end of the deal.

    "No need to remind you that attempting to escape before honoring your commitment would be ill-advised..." Marsha warned with a thinly veiled threat in her voice.

    "Calm down, Ursula, a deal''s a deal" Fleur responded with deceptive calm, already conceiving a myriad of escape strategies in her mind as she began to see her possibilities.

    Marsha reached for one of the crystals scattered on the floor, moving it with a magical gesture to drop the barrier that imprisoned Fleur. Then, she handed the syringe to the young red-haired witch. Fleur observed it for a moment, hesitating before rolling up her blouse sleeve, prepared for the injection, while keeping a watchful eye on the shadows of uncertainty around her.

    Fleur, observed the crystal that Marsha had moved a few moments ago to release her from the magical enclosure, had a sudden inspiration.

    "Loca commuta" she chanted quickly, taking Marsha by surprise. Her spell successfully reversed their positions, swapping places their places in a bright whirlwind.

    Fleur wasted no time. She swiftly reached for the crystal that had initially held her captive, and reformed the magical circle around Marsha, imprisoning her inside it this time.

    But in an unexpected twist, Marsha shot Fleur a contemptuous look.

    " Foolish girl" she murmured, adding irony to the situation. "The Peruvian crystals are loyal stones, much more so than humans. They never keep their owners as prisoners."

    Without further ado, Marsha crossed the boundaries of the magical circle, moving freely to confront a bewildered Fleur.

    "Don''t push me to use force, young lady, because I won''t hesitate to do so." she threatened imperiously. The situation seemed to reach its climax, and Fleur found herself more lost than ever, the syringe still in her hand, ready to use it.

    However, the syringe suddenly levitated in the air before bursting into flames in front of the astonished eyes of Fleur and Marsha, as Ouray made his entrance in the room.

    "Marsha, Marsha, Marsha... I knew you were desperate, but not completely insane," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. The unexpected presence of her mentor filled Fleur with ineffable relief, while Marsha''s face clouded with anger.

    Marsha attempted to launch a magical attack towards the shaman, but he effortlessly thwarted it, causing her to fall to the ground, completely immobilized. Ouray approached her, his dark gaze fixed on her.

    "Attacking Fleur? You''re lucky it''s me who came and not Darcey." he stated gravely.

    Marsha tried to defend herself, stammering, "The girl and I have a deal!"

    But Ouray interrupted her with an imperious gesture. "I strongly advise you to shut up! Just thank your lucky stars that the girl and I have more pressing matters to attend to than linger here."

    Fleur, her eyes dark with anger, suddenly revealed, "She knows more about mom''s death than what she let on."

    Ouray replied impassively : "We will deal with that soon enough. In the meantime, Marsha, you better stay as far away from Fleur as possible, or I guarantee her face will be the last thing you see."

    "Fleur, let''s get out of here" he added firmly before swiftly leaving the room. Fleur cast one last glance at Marsha, immobilized by the spell, before following him, leaving Marsha alone on the floor.

    As Fleur and Ouray left the room, Rose hurried down the spiral staircase to reach her mother. She approached Marsha to help her up, her face filled with palpable concern.

    "Mom, what does all of this mean? Who is this girl? And what do you know about what happened to her mother?" the young brunette asked the witch, her voice tinged with panic.

    Marsha stood up, her gaze still as dark as ever, and responded to Rose with determination.

    "One thing is certain, my dear, the apple doesn''t fall far from the tree. This young brat is as manipulative as Carolina was, and I''m far from done with her." she said, her voice filled with anger.

    Outside the bookstore, Fleur felt a profound sense of relief as she finally stepped into the daylight after being captive for what had seemed like an eternity. Ouray looked at her with a contrite expression, aware that his actions in keeping the truth from her had led her into this trap. But before he could say a word, Fleur rushed into his arms, expressing her relief at being reunited with him.

    "I''m sorry, Fleur." he said sincerely.

    "Saving my life is a good start for redemption, but know that i¡¯ll be expecting gifts, too. Many." she quipped, lightening the heavy atmosphere between them.

    "Noted." Ouray replied with a regained smile.

    "That woman is completely insane, Ouray. She wanted to take my blood for some kind of ritual. She''s hiding things from us about what happened to Mom, I''m sure of it," Fleur explained, her conviction unwavering.

    "You''re probably right. We''ll go back to deal with her and get to the bottom of it. However, Garth warned me that something was brewing in town. We need to join Hadrian at the mansion, and quickly." Ouray warned.

    Fleur nodded, and they headed toward the witch''s car parked on the other side of the street. Before getting into the vehicle, Fleur casted one final look at the bookstore, knowing that this mysterious puzzle was yet to be solved, determined to uncover the truth hidden within its walls.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Breathless, Zain was plunged into the tiring pursuit of the phantom wolf through the forest. Signs of his exhaustion were evident, with sweat beading on his forehead, disheveled hair, and clothes crumpled and soiled by the surrounding vegetation. He made a brief pause, almost kneeling, his hands clenched on his thighs, seeking a brief respite. Daylight was his ally, dispelling the threats lurking in the darkness of the night, and for that at least, he was grateful.

    The wolf, carrying palpable distress, broke the silence with a piercing cry, urging Zain to resume his frenzied chase. After another deep breath, he launched himself again in pursuit of the elusive creature, the mystery of its destination remaining unsolved.

    In the heart of the tall grass swaying gently in the daylight, Zain spotted a dilapidated cabin, a silhouette emerging from the wooded shadow. The wolf, a silent witness to the shiver in the air, suddenly froze. Their arrival was marked by a palpable tension.

    Zain, desperate and still panting, glanced at the wolf, then asked a question filled with apprehension:"There''s nothing good waiting for me inside that cabin, is there?" The wolf responded with a meaningful silence.

    Without weapons, with no control over his powers, and no idea of what awaited him, Zain was driven by the only certainty that someone was in danger inside that cabin. Was it Fleur? Ouray? His intuition, sharper than ever, revealed the terrible truth: it was Hadrian. Something or someone was after him. The immortal had been his savior the previous night when he needed help the most. Zain rushed towards the cabin, every step marking his determination, under the watchful eye of the wolf.

    Inside the cabin, Tucker watched Hadrian with sadistic pleasure as his life slowly drained away. His face contorted with hatred. Tucker had no intention of allowing the magic leaving the body of his enemy to be the cause of his death. He wanted to eliminate him with his own hands. He drew his revolver, an old and weathered handgun, and pointed it at Hadrian, already on the brink of death. The barrel of the weapon was aimed at the victim''s head, ready to deliver the final blow.

    "Your death will finally restore the glory of this town." he articulated with sinister tone, his words filled with resentment.

    Hadrian, on the other hand, looked at Tucker with contempt. He felt ready to leave this world where he had suffered so much, but a haunting thought consumed him: Fleur, Ouray, Garth, and even Zain would undoubtedly be the next targets of Tucker¡¯s and his group of ruthless assassins. A glimmer of worry pierced the coldness in his eyes as he imagined the imminent danger looming over his loved ones. He would have given everything to save them from this insidious threat before taking his last breath.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Tucker broke the oppressive silence in the cabin, his words full of cruelty, revealing his sadistic pleasure.

    "I''d be curious to hear your final words, Hadrian Archer." he taunted provocatively, his finger on the trigger of the revolver precisely pointed at his victim''s face.

    As Hadrian prepared a biting retort for his tormentor, the decrepit cabin door suddenly exploded into a shower of wood splinters. The silhouette of a young man appeared in the doorway, his arms outstretched. Zain. Drops of blood trickled from his nose, a clear sign of the considerable effort he had just exerted using his powers.

    The new comer rushed into the cabin with hurried steps, a determined expression on his face. His eyes met Hadrian''s, whose life hung by a thread, and his gaze conveying the horror of the situation.

    Tucker, turning abruptly, aimed his gun at the newcomer while saying with a hint of sinister amusement:

    "Well, it looks like I''ll be killing two birds with one stone!"

    Tucker pulled the trigger, the sharp sound of the gunshot echoing in the stuffy room. However, Zain, his arms still outstretched, invoked a barrier of white energy that sprang up in front of him, forming an impenetrable shield that not only deflected the deadly bullet but also ricocheted the shot, hitting Tucker in the shoulder. The sheriff collapsed to the floor, in excruciating pain, blood streaming from his wound.

    "WHAT?! Magic doesn''t work here!" he yelled, astonished by the sudden turn of events.

    Zain approached Tucker, who was trying to stem the bleeding by putting pressure on his wound, lying on the floor, shocked by the unexplained manifestation of magic.

    "It seems that My magic works just fine." Zain retorted in a cold voice.

    Suddenly consumed by immeasurable anger, Zain delivered a powerful kick to Tucker''s head, violent enough to knock him unconscious. Then, he rushed to Hadrian, whose life was now quickly fading, on the verge of eternal extinction.

    Zain began untying the ropes that bound Hadrian, first securing his wrists held behind his back, then the ones binding his legs together. Once freed, he attempted to lift him by making him lean against his own body.

    Hadrian opened his eyes with great difficulty, his voice barely audible but filled with resignation:

    "Get out of here right now, it''s too late for me."

    Zain''s gaze plunged into the tired grey eyes of the immortal as he responded with determination:

    "We''ve been over this already, it seems. I never listen to what people tell me, so hold on!"

    But the immortal collapsed heavily to the ground after only a step forward. Zain attempted to lift him again, but it seemed that Hadrian was right, he was truly losing ground. Zain didn''t give up and did his best to get him back on his feet, but in vain.

    A drop of blood streaming from Zain''s nose dripped and touched Hadrian''s neck during his many attempts. At the moment of contact, a small violet spark erupted, infusing an unexpected surge of vitality into Hadrian''s almost lifeless body. The immortal was incredulous, slowly regaining the strength to stand properly, leaning on Zain''s shoulder, and allowed himself to be finally guided out of the cabin.

    Outside, the phantom wolf patiently awaited the duo, as if it had anticipated their arrival and let out a triumphant howl upon seeing them. Hadrian looked at the creature¡¯s intelligent, shining eyes, his mind filled with questions. How could he explain these magical phenomena that seemed to boldly defy the laws of their reality, right in the heart of this area that was supposed to nullify all magic?

    The translucent wolf leaped in front of them, acting as a silent guide, showing the way. Meanwhile, Zain summoned all his strength to support Hadrian, accompanying him step by step in their progress. A smile of astonishment appeared on Hadrian''s lips, although his stare was mainly focused on Zain''s determined face, while the young man, too busy ensuring they could keep moving, didn''t notice his deep gaze.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    The day was slowly slipping into twilight over Redwaters as Fleur and Ouray entered the deserted mansion. Silence hung heavy and eerie.

    "Hadrian! Zain!" Fleur cried out, but only the echo of her own words answered her, the sound dissipating into emptiness.

    Ouray furrowed his brows, growing more concerned. "Something''s not right," he muttered.

    Fleur shared his concern. "But where could they have gone?"

    Ouray replied, his face marked with worry :"Hadrian was supposed to inspect the magic-free perimeter this morning. He should have been back by now. Garth warned me that his friends informed him the armed group seemed to be preparing something, gathering..."

    Anxiety gripped Fleur as well : "Do you think they might have targeted Hadrian and Zain?"

    Ouray nodded : "I don''t know. Stay here; I''ll go find them."

    Fleur shook her head : "No, you''re not going alone. If the perimeter blocks all magic, you''ll need help to rescue them since our powers won''t work."

    Ouray headed to the library, closely followed by Fleur, as events took an increasingly ominous turn. He opened a wooden chest in a corner of the room and retrieved a crossbow, gripping it with determination : "No need for magic; I''ll do this the old-fashioned way."

    "Think about it for a moment! The area not only affects your powers but will attack your life force, which is linked to magic. It will kill you!" Fleur tried to dissuade him

    Ouray gazed resolutely at his weapon : "These barbarians have already caused enough harm in this town. I have to act."

    "I understand, but not without a solid plan of attack!" Fleur insisted.

    The duo was interrupted by noise coming from the kitchen area, a sign that someone had infiltrated the home. Ouray squinted, trying to discern more details, while a chilling shiver ran down Fleur''s body.

    Ouray signaled to the witch to remain silent, then moved quietly toward the source of the noise, his crossbow at the ready. Fleur followed closely, her heart racing, as they cautiously approached the origin of the sound.

    With a swift motion, Ouray pushed open the kitchen door, and they bursted into the room, the crossbow aimed at Zain and Hadrian, who had just returned a few seconds earlier.

    Hadrian was in a sorry state, his face bloodied, leaning against the kitchen counter as Zain filled a glass of water for him.

    Fleur rushed to Hadrian, her concern evident : "Hadrian! My God, what happened?"

    The immortal looked at her with a feverish gaze, relieved to see her safe. He replied in a faltering voice : "It''s Sheriff Tucker; he leads the armed redneck group that targets supernatural beings. He managed to capture me when I was inspecting in the magic-free zone."

    Zain handed the glass of water to Hadrian, who drank it gratefully before continuing : "Fleur, he''s the one who killed your mother. He admitted it to me..."

    Fleur was nauseated by this revelation. The man who presented himself as the guardian of justice for all these years, the seemingly upright man with whom Elliott now worked, was responsible for the greatest tragedy of her life.

    Hadrian gently embraced her as he said affectionately : "I''m sorry..." his heart heavy to deliver such terrible news.

    Fleur bit her lip, trying to contain her overwhelming emotions : "He might have pulled the trigger, but it''s clear that someone else helped him. Someone who knew the secret of that place where she would be defenseless, stripped of her powers."

    Ouray, still alert, asked the immortal : "How did you manage to escape?"

    Hadrian looked at the back door of the kitchen, still slightly ajar, toward which his thoughts seemed to be directed : "Zain found me, and for a reason that defies all logic, his powers seem to perfectly work inside that perimeter, just like those of his mysterious companion." His gaze rested on the ghostly wolf, lying with apparent tranquility, emitting a purple halo, right by the kitchen door.

    Fleur and Ouray''s expressions were filled with questions as they now observed the phantom animal, their minds overwhelmed by all these unexpected twists.

    "I recognize it" Ouray realized. "It''s one of the four wolves shot on the evening of our arrival in town..." The shaman remembered the wolf¡¯s look of agony and distress right before it was put out of its misery.

    "Could it have come back to life?" Fleur asked, her perplexity evident.

    "The violet halo around it... it resembles the one that emanated from you when you arrived in our world, Zain. The shockwave extended over a hundred meters, if not more. It seems to have brought this spirit back from the dead, knowing that it had been shot and buried near the impact zone..."

    "I don''t understand" Zain admitted, anxious to learn more about Ouray''s theory.

    "I think, that for once, it''s starting to finally make sense to me. It seems that coming from another universe allows all these unprecedented magical anomalies to occur. Your foreign origins to our world enable your abilities to bypass its rules. That would explain why your powers would work inside the magic-nullifying zone and why they seem to alter Hadrian''s curse, unlike any known magic until now... Just like the resurrection of that wolf..."

    " We can consider ourselves lucky for once, that it was this wolf that came back to life upon contact with the magic wave and not one of the hundreds of malevolent creatures buried near the clearing." Fleur noted.

    "Or so we know..." Hadrian added, concerned about this turn of events, fearing that Zain''s powers might have inadvertently unleashed a powerful enemy.

    "It won''t stop here." Ouray predicted, sharing his intuition.

    "Surprise resurrections?" Fleur asked, her worry palpable.

    "No... These barbaric humans will seek revenge, I can feel it. We must act before giving them the chance to..."

    Before he could finish his sentence, the roar of engines echoed in the courtyard, creating a menacing rumble that reverberated throughout the mansion. Suddenly, a terrifying crash of shattered glass shook the house''s foundations. Ouray, crossbow at the ready, hastily left the kitchen, with the rest of the group following him. Even the ghostly wolf came along, as they moved towards the source of the commotion.

    They quickly reached the front door, next to which the window had been brutally shattered under the violent impact of several projectiles. Outside the mansion, a group of about twenty men stood in formation, lined up in front of their trucks parked at the estate''s entrance. They brandished crackling torches and assault rifles, ready for a confrontation. The torches'' light cast dark and eerie shadows on the attackers'' resolute and hate-twisted faces, plunging Hadrian, Fleur, Ouray, and Zain into a state of disbelief.

    "Wow, an angry mob." Fleur exclaimed, disheartened, as the group observed the enemy.

    "Is this common in your world?" Zain asked, his face marked by the shock of the situation.

    "I wish I could say no, but any history book or any clinic front where abortion is legal would quickly prove otherwise..." the witch replied, bitterness in her voice.

    The enraged mob was shouting, demanding the group''s surrender. Gunshots fired into the air increased the chaos. Hadrian, already in dire straits, was now trembling uncontrollably, haunted by flashes of past massacres threatening to overwhelm him. Ouray, observing him with palpable concern, tried to reassure him.

    "Hadrian, try to control yourself." he murmured with a concerned voice.

    Hadrian, increasingly vulnerable, was literally overwhelmed by bloody visions from the past. His heart raced, his breathing became erratic.

    Zain, intrigued by the situation, asked : "What''s happening to him?"

    Fleur, compassionately, responded : "It''s the curse..."

    Zain stared at Hadrian, an expression of confusion on his face, as he curiously felt the torrent of torment that was sweeping over him.

    Outside, the Sheriff climbed down from the back of his pickup, his earlier injured shoulder and arm put in a makeshift sling, the other one brandishing a shotgun. He took the lead of his group and shouted toward the mansion, his voice filled with the hatred that drove him.

    "Hadrian! If you don''t want all your friends to be slaughtered, come out now! Let''s finish this!" he roared, firing several shots into the air, his face overflowing with hate.

    Inside, Hadrian, Ouray, Fleur and Za?n observed the scene, huddled near the broken window. Hadrian felt ready to explode, but he struggled to contain himself as best he could.

    Fleur suddenly took initiative : "Zain, let''s check out if the rear door is clear. Ouray, stay with Hadrian to prevent him from succumbing to his impulses."

    As Zain and Fleur stealthily made their way towards the kitchen, Tucker, lurking outside, caught a glimpse of their fading silhouettes. With the practiced ease of a seasoned lawman, he aimed his shotgun at the imposing crystal chandelier that dangled in the hallway. A cacophony of splintering glass and shattering crystal resonated through the air as his shots found their mark. The once majestic chandelier crumbled into a myriad of glistening shards, descending upon the unsuspecting duo like a thunderous tempest, drowning their hasty escape in a deafening symphony of destruction.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Fleeting shards of light pulled Zain from the depths of unconsciousness caused by the collision with the chandelier. He was assaulted by flashes of light, crackling flames, and piercing screams, all swirling in the recesses of his consciousness. The young man struggled to force his eyelids open, while his body remained numb from the force of the impact.

    "Hadrian! Stop!" Ouray was shouting, but the words intermittently resonated in Zain''s head, intermingled with ringing in his ears.

    Still lying on the floor, Zain tried to sit up, using his hands for support, but the shattered crystal shards from the chandelier that were scattered around him inflicted excruciating pain as they dug into his hands.

    His senses gradually returned, and his feverish gaze swept the chaotic scene around him. The hall loomed before him like a battlefield, walls scarred by bullet holes, the entrance table reduced to ruins, just like the delicate vase that had been sitting there moments before the young man got hurt. The floor resembled a graveyard of assorted debris, interspersed with sinister remnants: bloodstains, smoldering burn marks, and scattered fuming fragments.

    Zain eventually spotted Fleur, lying a little further away on the floor. He remembered his desperate attempt to push her out of harm''s way as the chandelier fell on them, but it seemed that the redheaded witch had still been injured.

    Struggling to regain his own stability on trembling legs, he rushed over to her, his body battered from head to toe. Each step was a reminder of the unbelievable violence of the collision.

    Squatting next to Fleur, he felt his heart racing in his chest. He gently touched her shoulder, hoping she would wake up. The witch, with a bloody head injury, slowly began to open her eyes, her dilated pupils reflecting her confusion.

    "What happened?" she asked weakly, her eyes scanning the chaos surrounding them. "What''s going on?!"

    Zain felt a shiver of anxiety wash over him as he replied, his voice trembling with nervousness.

    "I have no idea, but we need to find the others!"

    Zain helped Fleur to her feet, but before they could move toward the mansion''s exit, Ouray appeared in front of them, his face marked by terror, his clothes torn to shreds.

    "We need to get out of here! He''s become uncontrollable! He''s going to turn on us; he can''t distinguish reality anymore!"

    As Ouray did his best to quickly get Fleur and Zain out of this perilous predicament, firmly holding them by the arms and guiding them towards the back, the ghostly figure of the wolf suddenly appeared at the entrance, fixing Zain with an unmistakable gaze. Zain managed to break free from Ouray''s grip and moved resolutely toward the mansion''s exterior, closely followed by the spectral wolf. Hadrian''s anger rumbled within Zain, like a devastating roar, an inexplicable cry for help that only he could intercept. He, who had sought so hard to discover the true identity of the immortal and the nature of his curse, was about to be confronted with the most brutal reality of it.

    "Zain! No!" Ouray shouted as the young man approached the source of the howls outside.

    Nothing could prepare him for the sight that met his eyes. A true nightmare unfolded before Zain. The ground was littered with corpses, most of them lying in scattered pieces. The vehicles and trucks belonging to Tucker''s gang were now nothing but charred heaps or overturned wrecks, reduced to smoldering ruins.

    Further on, Hadrian''s silhouette emerged, but he had undergone a terrifying transformation. He appeared much more massive, his posture resembled that of a terrifying wild beast. Zain watched him seize a man desperately trying to escape and snap him in half like a twig. Then he hurled a second victim into a third one who was also attempting to flee, causing an impact of such intensity that their skeletons cracked under the pressure, while their bodies ignited in a grim fire as they made contact with yet another burning vehicle.

    Hadrian now advanced toward Tucker, who had taken refuge behind a truck. With a single kick, Hadrian sent the vehicle flying, causing a chaotic collision with several other cars, exacerbating the cacophony of the surrounding disaster.

    Tucker, his arm in a sling, utterly terrorized, tried desperately to crawl away. Hadrian grabbed his leg and, with superhuman ease, lifted him into the air, finally placing him in front of him, face to face, thus forcing him to meet his relentless gaze.

    The sheriff trembled with all his might, utterly devastated by this turn of events. He who had the blood of so many supernatural creatures on his hands couldn''t fathom that his life could end like this, eliminated by one of them, when he thought he had them cornered.

    "Hadrian, please, stop! You''ve done enough! You''ve made your point!" he yelled, his voice partially muffled, as the immortal held him by the neck. "It''s over! No one will harm any of your..."

    Before Tucker could finish his plea for survival, Hadrian slightly tilted his head, as if he was contemplating his words. Then, with a sudden movement, he grabbed the sheriff''s skull with his free hand and separated it from the rest of his body. The whole thing crashed violently to the ground, emitting a chilling sound, as Hadrian let out an inhuman scream. This cry threatened to send Zain reeling backward, plunging him even more into the horror of this traumatic scene.

    In a frenzy of uncontrollable rage, Hadrian then launched into a destructive rampage. He attacked the cars and trucks engulfed in flames, making them soar through the air with punches and kicks of unparalleled force. His hands pierced the flaming wrecks in a hysterical trance, and bestial roars emanated from his throat, filling the air with terror.

    Zain felt an unbearable pain emanating from the immortal. He wasn''t sure if it was due to his empathic abilities or the blood bond that had formed between them when he saved Hadrian earlier, but despite the terror elicited by the insane scene unfolding before his eyes, Zain was beginning to understand, albeit confusedly, that he might have the power to stop it.

    He advanced, staggering but determined, through the surrounding chaos, circling the lifeless bodies among the fuming debris. Hadrian, lost in his destructive state, seemed to not even notice his presence, striking the vehicles with a ferocity that betrayed a visceral rage. His eyes bloodshot.

    "Hadrian! Hadrian, STOP!"

    Alerted by Zain''s piercing cry, the immortal slowly turned his head in his direction, his cruel eyes fixed on the young man. He appeared entirely possessed, an entity alien to everything Zain had known of him until now, his posture, his gaze, or the devastating aura surrounding him. A shiver of horror ran through Zain as Hadrian suddenly rushed towards him, seemingly not recognizing him.

    However, as anxiety grew in the young man''s heart, Hadrian seemed to gradually to regain his identity with every step he took. His face softened, his body slowly shrank until he finally stood before Zain, becoming himself again.

    An involuntary sigh of relief escaped Zain''s lips, a momentary easing amid the surrounding horror. Hadrian, on the other hand, seemed overwhelmed by the sudden awareness of the extent of the massacre he had just committed. Terror and guilt were now inscribed in the mirror of his eyes, reflecting the abyss of his own madness.

    Zain stood there, frozen, petrified by the scene. Even though these dangerous criminals had threatened to invade the mansion to kill them, even though thee Sheriff had taken Hadrian hostage, torturing him mercilessly until Zain intervened just in time to save him, the brutality of this massacre, the unimaginable savagery that Hadrian had engaged in, and the shocking number of deaths around them, for which he was solely responsible in just a few minutes, chilled Zain''s blood.

    The immortal had plunged into a ruthless rampage, Ouray even feared he might turn on them, recognizing nothing or no one anymore. Zain couldn''t erase from his memory the murderous look that Hadrian had just shot him when he yelled to make him stop...

    Hadrian locked eyes with Zain, and overcome by a sudden wave of shame, he looked away. His gaze fell on his hands, stained with the horror he had just committed, and a feeling of disgust surged within him, devastating. His hands, witnesses to his immeasurable strength, were now the vectors of his own damnation. An unspeakable terror gripped him, his limbs trembled, and panic overcame him, threatening to plunge him back into a new uncontrollable crisis.

    Words escaped him in a distorted cry: "Leave immediately."

    Zain instinctively retreated taking a few steps back, torn by a poignant dilemma. He had managed to calm Hadrian once, stop him in his destructive frenzy. He didn''t want to abandon the one he now considered a friend, alone to face his demons.

    But before he could make a decision, Hadrian gave him a last look of panic, like a desperate farewell, then suddenly collapsed on the ground, unconscious. At the same moment, Ouray appeared behind him, holding a rifle, revealing that he had shot Hadrian to stop him.

    Fleur appeared a few moments later, completely devastated by the vision of the carnage surrounding them. Her face reflected profound shock at the horror they were engulfed in.

    Zain, motionless, spoke to Ouray in a trembling voice:

    "Is he...?"

    The shaman shook his head : "No. These are tranquilizer darts. Help me get him inside."

    Zain nodded, and the two of them lifted Hadrian, unconscious, then dragged him toward the inside. Fleur followed, trembling at the apocalyptic spectacle surrounding them, where flames danced among the corpses as the four of them made their way back to the mansion.

 Chapter 7

    Inside the library, an atmosphere heavy with uncertainty prevailed. Fleur, consumed by heightened nervousness, seemed to be in a state of agitation, her footsteps echoing through the manor''s floor, her thoughts swirling in a tumult of doubts and questions in the wake of recent events. Ouray, on the other hand, was plunged into a deep abyss of contemplation, his eyes captured by the flickering flames in the fireplace, while Zain, still in shock, slouched on the couch, his gaze vacant.

    The oppressive silence in the room was finally broken by Fleur, who could no longer bear the tension. She murmured with an anxious tone, "What are we going to do?"

    Ouray slowly turned his thoughtful sight towards her, responding with a calm yet weighty voice, "We will handle the situation."

    Fleur let out a sigh, tinged with worry. "Handle what exactly? Hadrian, who seems to have completely lost his mind, or the twenty-something gruesomely mutilated bodies and their flaming cars in the driveway?"

    Ouray replied gravely, never taking his eyes off the flames. "Both."

    Fleur, now wound up like a string about to snap, felt her heart tighten even more. She continued, her voice heavy with emotion, "But Ray, these individuals, despicable as they may be, have families who will search for them, who will demand answers! The police will launch a search for their missing sheriff! My God, Elliott... Elliott will find out what happened."

    She interrupted her frantic pacing, letting her body fall onto the other end of the couch, beside Zain, who was trying to follow their conversation, his face displaying a mixture of anguish and dismay.

    "We can''t cover up a massacre of this magnitude," she concluded, overwhelmed by the gravity of the situation.

    Ouray turned to Fleur, his voice reflecting unwavering determination : "It seems we are fortunate that the garden of this property is so extensive..."

    Fleur, visibly distraught, retorted : "Are you seriously suggesting that the three of us bury twenty corpses here?!"

    Ouray, with resolute determination, explained : "I''ve informed Garth. He and his friends will come to our aid. These individuals have terrorized and slaughtered their community for far too long. I don''t think they will be concerned with the details of what happened to these people."

    Fleur, exasperated by Ouray''s apparent detachment, expressed her frustration : "How can you remain so impassive?! These people, as you call them, are human lives that have been lost! Did you see what I just saw outside?!"

    Ouray, his eyes finally turning away from the flames, faced her, no longer concealing his irritation :

    "I know! Would you have me feign an emotion other than satisfaction for what has transpired? I would be lying to you, Fleur! Justice has been served for all supernatural beings murdered by these individuals, for all those innocent lives that the human system never protected. What would you have suggested as penance, Fleur? Do you think a judge or a police officer would have charged these monsters for the murders of people like us, for the murder of your mother? As horrifying as it may sound, don''t expect me to sympathize with their fate."

    Fleur let her head disappear between her hands, utterly confounded by her own emotions. She was facing a reality she didn''t want to admit, Ouray was right. No human court could have put an end to the atrocities committed by these brutes, and she would be dishonest with herself if she pretended not to feel some relief in finally initiating retribution for her mother''s murder. Without Hadrian''s intervention, these fanatics would have slaughtered them all. That''s why they had besieged the manor, brandishing torches and aiming their guns. However, despite this pragmatic reality, she couldn''t help but feel a profound sadness about the situation, contrary to her fundamental principles. An increasing worry about the consequences ahead weighed on her, on all of them. Her mind was in constant turmoil, desperately seeking to make sense of this intricate and tortuous situation. She simply felt lost in a labyrinth of moral dilemmas, powerless.

    Through the slightly open library window, the strange acrid and lingering smell of burning cars seeped in, saturating the room''s atmosphere. Fleur, Ouray, and Zain, deeply engaged in desperate contemplation of their future in this deadlock, were overpowered by this unsettling scent. It was then that a cerulean-black bird crossed the window, gliding to the center of the room, where it transformed into a man, Garth.

    The Kinnara stood there, at the heart of the library, completely nude, his slender and muscular silhouette almost entirely covered in artistic tattoos. Zain, taken aback by this sudden appearance, averted his gaze like a shy teenager, captivated by this enigmatic transformation and the undeniably fascinating sight of this body.

    An impish smile graced Garth''s lips as he addressed Zain with confidence, breaking the silence that had settled in: "Hey there, the shy newcomer, I need a towel."

    Ouray, already accustomed to Garth''s transformations and the resulting nudity, tossed him a pair of pants and a sweatshirt he had thoughtfully prepared in advance.

    Garth quickly donned the clothes, then turned to the group, his eyes sparkling with a perplexed glint. "It''s a real mess out there. When I flew over the manor''s entrance, I thought I was hallucinating. Hadrian wasn''t kidding when he said he''d take care of the situation!"

    "It''s a intricate predicament, indeed," Ouray responded in a somber tone, still lost in thought.

    "We need a cover-up," declared Garth.

    "How so?" Fleur asked, slowly emerging from her stupor.

    "We need a believable story to explain the disappearance of these people, something that holds up," explained Garth.

    "Unless there''s an imminent natural disaster, I don''t think we can justify the deaths of twenty-something people!" objected Fleur.

    "Fleur, these barbarians were all part of the same organized gang. Every time they had to commit their atrocities, they must have thought of a cover story to explain their absence to their families or at work," countered Garth.

    "Yes! Like a sports club or organized hunting trips..." Ouray muttered, realizing.

    "Fishing..." Fleur corrected. "Elliott often told me that during his probationary period, Sheriff Tucker would go fishing at least once a week with his group of friends on the coast. They had a boat. He was upset not to be included."

    "Perfect! We''ll bury the bodies here but transport their wallets and personal belongings on the fishing boat. We''ll throw them into the water to make they''ll be found. We''ll take the boat as far into the middle of the ocean as possible to stage a shipwreck."

    "But how do we act without being seen or leaving any traces?" Zain wondered, impressed by Garth''s takeover of the situation.

    "I''ll transport their personal effects through the air. I have friends who can take care of towing the boat to the middle of the ocean without being detected," Garth assured confidently, as if he had switched to autopilot.

    "How?" Zain asked, growing increasingly intrigued by Garth''s abilities.

    "Mermaids. Nothing more discreet to move a boat," Garth concluded with an enigmatic smile.

    A cover-up for a massacre, birds turning into naked men, and now mermaids. It was only Zain''s second day in this world, and all these mysteries left him completely bewildered.

    "Ouray, let''s start gathering phones and wallets," Garth said with confidence. "Fleur, try to find the exact location of their fishing boat. New guy, find us some shovels. We''ll join you to start digging the graves," Garth ordered with impressive assurance.

    "I''ll call Elliott. He must be worried sick about me, and it will allow me to gather more information about the location or the sheriff''s boat''s name before I try my luck on the internet, hoping not to arouse his suspicions," Fleur declared, her voice betraying her growing anxiety.

    Memories suddenly rushed to Zain''s mind: "He came by this morning. Elliott. He was looking for you. I told him that Hadrian and you had gone out," he suddenly recalled.

    Upon hearing those words, Fleur''s expression betrayed palpable anxiety. She turned to Zain and asked a question tinged with worry : "And he didn''t notice anything suspicious? No signs of magic or anything strange?"

    "No, it was a very brief encounter. I quickly realized I needed to come up with an excuse to explain your absence, and he left," the young Peri explained.

    The witch, concerned about the possibility of Elliott discovering her double life and knowing her fianc¨¦''s propensity for curiosity, asked : "And didn''t he inquire about who you were?"

    "No, upon seeing me open the door, he quickly deduced that I must have been Hadrian''s ex-boyfriend," Zain confided, his voice betraying a hint of embarrassment.

    Ouray, surprised, asked, "What? How?"

    Fleur replied, embarrassed by her lie, "It''s my fault. I told Elliott that Hadrian was coming back to town to recover from his breakup with his boyfriend. I know I shouldn''t have. I was just trying to prevent him from getting jealous of the time we''d spend together upon his return¡­"

    The meaningful looks from Ouray and Garth fixed on her, creating a weight on her shoulders that she couldn''t refute. It had become imperative for the witch to reveal the whole truth to her fianc¨¦ regarding the paranormal world and her powers, a realization that had grown heavy on her.

    As for Zain, he couldn''t hide his hint of disappointment when he realized that this ex-boyfriend story was just a fabrication by Fleur, and that Hadrian didn''t actually share his preferences. A disappointment that didn''t escape Garth''s keen eyes.

    "We mustn''t forget an important element: the burned vans. How do we explain the disappearance of their vehicles if these men got lost at sea?" Ouray suddenly expressed, his furrowed brows reflecting his concern.

    "I''ve spent weeks monitoring their trucks. These are not their usual cars, but unregistered vehicles they use for their criminal activities. No one will notice their disappearance," Garth reassured them in a calm tone, although Zain could sense some underlying anxiety.

    "Are we really going to do this?" Fleur asked as a last resort, her gaze reflecting her growing doubts about this astonishing chain of actions. "Covering up the murder of all these people so easily?" She added, her voice trembling with uncertainties.

    "We have no choice, Fleur. These individuals sealed their fate by massacring innocents for decades with impunity," Ouray emphasized with determination.

    "Now is not the time for doubts, Fleur. We need to get to work immediately," Garth insisted, displaying unwavering resolve despite the troubling circumstances. "Everyone assume their positions!"

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Holding the shovel firmly, Zain was digging a hole at the back of the property. His body bore the marks of the recent shock, bruised by the bewildering events. He was now almost unrecognizable, buried under a layer of freshly turned soil. He continued his work rhythmically, seeking refuge in this activity to calm the emotional turmoil that had shaken his life. He feared to stop, afraid of being overwhelmed by a wave of erratic emotions that he was desperately trying to push back.

    Garth approached Zain, silently observing him for a few moments. He saw himself in the young man, going back a few years to when he had first arrived in Redwaters, lost and disoriented. He could imagine the countless questions that must be swirling in the mind of this lost young man, the distress caused by the troubles he had undoubtedly encountered since his arrival, as well as the loneliness that accompanied it. Zain''s face expressed touching innocence, arousing in him a desire to lend a helping hand.

    "Hey, the shy newcomer, how are you doing?"

    "I''m getting by," Zain replied, still focused on digging.

    "It must not be easy for you... from your explosive arrival through that portal to finding yourself in this strange new world, with everything that comes with it..."

    "Did Ouray and Fleur inform you about me?" Zain asked, all while remaining focused on his task.

    "No, I saw it all with my own eyes. I was flying over the clearing when you arrived, and I even passed by your window at the manor later that evening," Garth admitted, a benevolent smile on his face.

    Zain paused in his work to look at Garth in turn and asked, suddenly realizing : "You were the bird that startled me on the window seat !?"

    "Guilty. I wanted to make sure you were okay. Supernatural beings were becoming rare around here with those brutes on our tail."

    "Well, at least that''s one less concern to consider after this evening, if we choose the optimistic approach," Zain replied sarcastically, referring to their situation.

    "Don''t get me wrong. This town has a troubled history, and I doubt that our problems will be resolved so easily..."

    "Not a big fan of the optimistic approach, I see? " Zain retorted, expressing his disillusionment in the face of the numerous trials ahead.

    Garth reluctantly admitted, his eyes lowered : "Became rather pragmatic, indeed..." The past years marked by the loss of his loved ones and the feelings of alienation and persecution he endured at the hands of Tucker and his gang of criminals seemed to have taken a toll on his zest for life.

    Zain noticed his discomfort and sought to change the subject by asking the question that had been burning in him since he had witnessed Garth''s transformation before his eyes.

    "What does it feel like...?"

    "To be such a handsome guy?" Garth quipped, a charming smile on his face.

    Zain smiled at his comment, acknowledging that he was quite right on that front, but it wasn''t the question he wanted to ask:

    "To fly."

    Zain was fascinated by Garth''s power, by the sensations he must experience as he soared through the skies, like a memory simultaneously out of reach and deeply rooted in him.

    "It''s both terrifying and exhilarating, flying; it''s like falling in love. It''s that powerful feeling of invincibility, but at the same time something greater than oneself, almost unreal."

    Zain looked down, confused, before confessing to Garth : "I can only imagine it; I''ve never experienced either, at least not that i can remember..."

    "Flying is certainly liberating, but like in love, it requires control, and in both cases, accidents can happen, but can also be avoided," Garth confided with a voice full of wisdom, filled with implications.

    "What do you mean by that?" Zain asked, realizing that Garth was trying to convey a message.

    "Hadrian.

    I saw your reaction when you realized that Fleur had lied to Elliott by saying he had an ex-boyfriend..."

    Zain felt deeply embarrassed by these words, immediately attempting to explain himself: "It''s not what you think..."

    However, Garth interrupted him, sensing his discomfort:

    "Far be it from me to pass any judgment on you; quite the opposite. I''m simply inviting you to be cautious."

    Zain let out a long sigh before responding, disappointment in his voice: "Cautious or not, I think our conversation earlier put an end to the subject..."

    "Hadrian is a complex man. I don''t believe his inclinations would be a barrier to your interest. But his complexity comes with its share of turmoil, and that''s what may be the issue..."

    "You''re talking about his curse?" Zain understood, still shaken by the horrific images he had witnessed.

    "The nature of his affliction, its driving force, is guilt and violence. As good as he may appear, living with that burden for so long has left significant scars on him, and anyone who rushes too quickly to get close to him might end up getting burned."

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    Zain looked at Garth, understanding that his intentions were genuinely caring. The guy had an exceptional knack for putting him at ease, almost disarming.

    Garth smiled at him and said : "You seem like a decent guy, Zain. I was exactly where you are today just a few years ago. New in town, lost, disoriented. If you ever need help or just someone who understands what you''re going through, know that I''m just a bird''s flight away." He fixed Zain with his sparkling blue eyes.

    Zain responded with a grateful smile. Despite the intensity of the adventures he had experienced since arriving in this world and the dangers he had faced, he felt lucky to have made such connections.

    Zain looked at the second shovel lying at his feet, indicating to Garth to take it as he said:

    "Start by helping me dig. As determined as I might be, at this rate, it''ll take me all night!"

    Garth promptly grabbed the shovel, rolled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt, and began digging with determination, while Zain resumed as well. They both dug in rhythm as the rain started to fall on them.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Outside, the rain gradually intensified, forming a curtain of droplets that gently extinguished the flames of the burning wrecks. This rain, mixed with spilled blood, seemed orchestrated by a higher power, as if nature itself sought to erase the traces of this terrible tragedy. The drops fell with an almost poetic melancholy, washing the soiled ground, while the sky rumbled in a sinister echo of the events that had just unfolded.

    In the basement, Hadrian still layed in a deep state of unconsciousness, chained in the manor''s panic room, designed as an emergency prison. Ouray had administered a dose of tranquilizers that would have incapacitated any human or animal in moments, a quantity that the immortal''s body had almost entirely metabolized in a matter of precious minutes. It was as if even the chemistry of his body refused to yield to the force of the drugs.

    Within his body''s silent struggle, his mind was soothed by the gentle murmur of the rain penetrating through the broken windows upstairs. He drifted back to a distant memory, of that time when it all began...

    London, 1561

    The night had silently descended upon the city, its darkness shrouding every corner. In a mysterious dance, the mist rose from the alleys, embracing the wet cobblestones, soaked by a cold rain, while the sweet scent of petrichor briefly masked the fetid odor that enveloped the city of London.

    Hadrian quickened his pace; he didn''t want to be recognized in this disreputable neighborhood. The young soldier already had enough worries, burdened by the weight of his family, who had never understood or supported him, by his new in-laws who seemed to scrutinize his every move, and by his young, intrusive wife for whom he had never felt any emotion or interest beyond the advantageous social status she provided, the sole reason he had agreed to marry her.

    All the decisions in his life seemed dictated by others, and it was beginning to erode his soul. He had grown up in blind fear of God, without ever understanding why. His enlistment in the army had fulfilled his father''s ambition, and his marriage to a woman he deemed foolish had been a concession to his mother, hoping that this union could strengthen their family''s position at the royal court. He relied on the support of his in-laws and their high-placed connections to advance quickly in his military career, thereby securing a bright future for all.

    Soon, he would also have to ensure his succession, thus sealing this union. Hadrian continued to construct this bland life with his own hands, a life that felt duller to him than death itself. He had always been imprisoned in the chains of repression, a distant star from his true essence. His soul burned with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, adventure, and experimentations, a flame that the world around him sought to extinguish at all costs. It was hardly surprising that this disharmony between his true nature and the false mask he had to wear led him to places considered infamous by high society, although its members secretly frequented them.

    It was this same incompatibility between his inner self and the world around him that had driven him on that fateful night to hastily leave yet another family dinner. He had been forced to endure endless and sterile conversations, where the political situation, impending war, the so-called moral justification behind the church''s witch hunt across Europe, and even the condescending looks of that the frigid women of English high society casted towards the more enticing fashions of the French court, were discussed endlessly.

    To make his escape without a hitch, Hadrian feigned a late-night training session with his new soldier comrades. He claimed that this was to prepare himself for battle in case of sudden deployment, an initiative that seemed perfectly justified given the uncertain and tumultuous times weighing on England at that time.

    Hadrian knocked twice on the small wooden door, hidden at the dark corner of an alley. With surprising swiftness, an old woman, missing more than half her teeth, opened the door. The soldier, whose imposing stature almost threatened to knock his head against the door frame, rapidly entered the brothel. Behind him, the sinister old woman hastily closed the door, her wild, wide-eyed gaze brimming with malice.

    The Englishman was familiar with the place. All eyes turned to him upon his arrival. Some soldiers, still in uniform and clearly inebriated, were surrounded by several half-naked prostitutes, vulgarly gyrating to the rhythm of the flute, their ample bosoms exposed, laughing heartily.

    Other men of various ages were seated near the fire, having one last glass of wine before returning to their respective homes, or not having yet chosen their companion for the few hours of freedom that this place granted them, allowing them to temporarily escape a dull daily life.

    For Hadrian, this place was a striking reflection of the gaping chasm between the repressive expectations dictated by the religion of his time and the reality of the secret refusal to submit to it, even by those who pretended to bow to the fanatical doctrine that prevailed. In the depths of his heart, Hadrian dreamed of a future where he wouldn''t have to conceal his thoughts, opinions, and desires. This dream took the form of his imminent journey to the New World, an opportunity to contribute to the establishment of the first English colony on the other side of the globe, and perhaps one day, to build his own life there.

    He wondered if distance had the power to open minds, a deeply rooted belief in him, forged by his many readings. For the soldier thirsty for answers, literature was a refuge, an endless source of inspiration. But Hadrian also knew that if this departure project was a utopian dream for him, it had become a matter of survival for Sienna, whom he had to get out of London as quickly as possible before she was discovered.

    Hadrian slowly ascended the worn wooden staircase that led to the upper floor. Each step he climbed immersed him deeper into the tumultuous atmosphere of this mysterious place. The soldier''s path was strewn with cries of pleasure, blending into a sensual melody. The beds, worn by countless trysts, creaked with each movement of passionate lovers, evoking the memories of their previous encounters. Amidst these carnal symphonies, lively discussions of dissatisfied clients filled the air, as they vented their frustrations loudly and impolitely, while others, mere boors, displayed their arrogance with pride.

    The soldier finally reached the end of the corridor, facing a dilapidated and cracked wall. He suddenly stopped, as if waiting for something. Then, out of nowhere, a door appeared as if by magic in the wall. Hadrian, though accustomed to such manifestations, felt his heart race with each encounter with magic. Or perhaps it was the prospect of seeing her that put him in this state of excitement?

    "The way is clear, Hadrian," Sienna announced from inside the room, her voice sultry.

    A smile appeared on Hadrian''s lips, and he joined her in the room.

    Sienna stood by the window, a glass of absinthe in hand, watching the rain flood the city streets, absorbed in the scene. Hadrian admired the sight of her wavy hair bathed in moonlight. She was exotic, so different from the women he had met in London. That''s what made her so fascinating, her complete dissimilarity to the young courtesans of English high society, so sheltered from everything and removed from the reality of the world, so bland and uninteresting to his eyes.

    Wearing an emerald nightgown that slid off her shoulders, Sienna moved toward Hadrian, her gaze filled with desire. She kissed him passionately, ardently biting his lower lip, pressing her body against his. It was a passion that ignited his blood like very few women were capable of...

    Hadrian held her tightly against him, savoring the unique scent of her hair to which he was so vulnerable. Between them, there was a connection that went far beyond mutual carnal desire, something unexplained and exhilarating.

    Sienna was a witch, yet he had felt no fear upon the revelation of her powers, just as he had not judged her for her unconventional way of earning a living. He was mesmerized by her difference. Her boldness. He saw in her his escape, the demonstration that in her presence, he could blend in with the crowd of ordinary men. When he was with her, and only her, he naturally managed to suppress his most secret desires without effort. Hadrian had never shared this intimate part of himself with her, not out of fear of her judgment, but out of respect for their history. When he was with her, the rest of the world simply disappeared or no longer mattered.

    "So, any new?" she asked, concern marking her face.

    "The departure is scheduled for next week, and I managed to secure you a spot." he replied.

    Sienna embraced him, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. Then, she asked the question that had been haunting her: "My hero, I knew it! And what about the others?"

    Hadrian lowered his eyes, his expression tinged with sadness.

    "I''m afraid there''s not much I can do for them, unfortunately."

    Sienna released her embrace, her eyes suddenly filled with worry.

    "Hadrian, as i told you before, I won''t leave without them!"

    The soldier sighed, knowing that persuading Sienna was an impossible task. "Sienna, please, be reasonable. Securing your spot on board was a a complicated enough endeavor. Ensuring twelve more for your witch friends is purely impossible."

    "Hadrian, these women are my fellow witch sisters, and I won''t abandon them to a certain death at the hands of those barbarians puritans. If they stay, I''d rather share their fate, with dignity."

    Hadrian ran his hand over his forehead, growing anxiety gripping him. Sienna was unwavering, and no one could change her mind. The imminent departure to the colony left little room for maneuver, and the spots were already allocated. If Hadrian wanted to save Sienna from the clutches of the Church and their persecution, knowing she wouldn''t leave without her witch sisters, he had to find a solution quickly.

    "You know there''s a way..." Sienna began, but Hadrian cut her off hastily, panicked : "No! We can make it without harming anyone!" he exclaimed vehemently.

    A look of tenderness emanated from Sienna, and she replied gently : "My dear Hadrian, so kind, so righteous... Nothing in the world is achieved without sacrifices. That''s how the world works, it''s up to you to decide which loss you can bear the least."

    Hadrian looked at her, lost in thought. He knew he had to find an alternative, a solution that wouldn''t involve sacrificing innocent lives along the way.

    "I will find another way," he declared, his resolve firm.

    Sienna allowed her hand to gently caress Hadrian''s cheek, looking deep into his eyes to calm the turmoil that had engulfed him. A soft smile appeared on her lips, filled with genuine affection, and she spoke tenderly:

    "Whatever decision you make, know that my love for you will remain unwavering."

    Her words were a balm for Hadrian''s troubled soul, infusing him with a new determination to move forward. He remembered all those years when he had been buffeted by circumstances, never having a choice. No one had ever granted him the freedom to decide his own destiny. But with Sienna, everything was different. She had given him that precious privilege, and he was resolved to never to let that unique feeling extinguish, whatever may come.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Ouray entered the library, his blood-soaked gloved hands firmly gripping a large plastic bag. At the same time, Fleur finally hung up her phone.

    "I''ve gathered all their personal belongings. And on your end?" the shaman asked, clearly concerned about the time they were running out of.

    "Elliott was beside himself. I told him that Hadrian and I had an accident. I need to get to him quickly before he shows up here." the witch replied while touching her head wound with her fingertips, still dazed from the earlier impact.

    Ouray casted her a compassionate look, as if she were his own flesh, the idea of her being injured was unbearable to him.

    "You need to go to the hospital, Fleur."

    "I''ll be fine, don''t worry. I''m just a little shaken up, that''s all," reassured the witch before adding, "Good news, I got the name of the boat. Elliott began the conversation by telling me that they were understaffed at the police station due to the sheriff''s absence, who had gone fishing earlier in the day. Our cover seems solid. Garth can finally set off before they notice their disappearance."

    "We have one last thing to solve before your departure." Ouray reluctantly announced.

    Fleur scrutinized him, her expression perplexed as he left the room, the witch following him outside.

    At the entrance of the mansion, Ouray and Fleur stood facing the crime scene. The pouring rain had extinguished the burnt-out trucks and car wrecks scattered on the ground among the dismembered bodies, creating a grim landscape now shrouded in darkness in the absence of flames.

    "The police will soon be patrolling the area with cars and helicopters. If they come through here, the sight of this car graveyard at the mansion''s entrance will raise their suspicions..."

    "We need to move them."

    "A teleportation ritual? I was rather thinking of transmutation, merging them to give them a different shape."

    "In both cases, it''s about having tons of metal moved quickly, and I''m afraid I don''t have the necessary power for that, Ouray," admitted the witch, aware of the colossal strength required for such a task.

    "Transmutation is a matter of control, balance, far beyond mere power. Together, we can try it," reassured Ouray, even though his own doubts tinged his words. "We''ve already attempted it at the beginning of our training, remember?"

    "We accelerated the transformation of a chrysalis into a butterfly, Ouray. It''s a bit different from this," she replied, giving a discouraged look to the vehicle wrecks in front of them.

    "It all depends on perspective, Fleur," said Ouray, gently taking her hand.

    "Do you remember the process?

    "And the night keeps getting crazier and crazier¡­ "

    Fleur and Ouray''s hands intertwined as they reached out with their free arms toward the carcasses, attempting to clear their minds. Their hearts were beating fast, but they synchronized their breaths, focusing on the objects they sought to change.

    Zain and Garth, soaked by the rain, sweat, and mud after digging several graves at the back of the property, watched in silence, fascinated. Their eyes reflected a mix of curiosity and concern, witnesses to the extraordinary endeavor of Fleur and Ouray.

    Fleur and Ouray''s bodies began to tremble, their arms outstretched, their breath becoming increasingly irregular. A bright white beam of light erupted from Ouray''s hand, spreading across the wrecked trucks and cars. Suddenly, a similar green light emanated from Fleur''s hands, intertwining with Ouray''s.

    The shaman, his eyes taking on the color of the halo emanating from his hand, went into a trance and shouted : "Paskwacisk?tam!"

    Fleur, her eyes filled with a green glow, added her incantation :"Transmutare!"

    The two beams of light from their outstretched hands intensified, violently shaking the metal wrecks that seemed to shiver under the unleashed mystical power. The magic enveloping them was palpable, vibrating in the air like a symphony of power. The sorcerers'' bodies seemed to convulse under the weight of the spell, their souls plunging into an ocean of uncertainty, while the world around them trembled as if in harmony with their bold attempt.

    Zain, absorbed by the scene, appeared to be immersed in the magical whirlwind surrounding them. His eyes shone with a contemplative light, as if he were perceiving the mysteries of the universe.

    Then, suddenly, like a shooting star that fades, the luminous halos vanished, leaving behind a disappointing darkness. Their eyes returned to their normal appearance, coming back from the mystical abyss, while the tremors subsided. Ouray and Fleur, exhausted, lost their balance, falling to the ground.

    Garth and Zain, alerted by this turn of events, rushed towards the duo. Their outstretched hands providing support. Ouray and Fleur grabbed onto them, slowly getting up, looking drained, both physically and emotionally, faced with this bitter failure.

    "Does this...?" Garth asked, his gaze filled with concern and curiosity.

    "I knew it wouldn''t be so easy..." Fleur sighed, a mix of frustration and exhaustion in her voice, recent events weighing on her like a burden.

    "We need to find an alternative quickly; time is painfully scarce," Ouray reminded, his worry evident in his tone. The failure of their attempt had put them under pressure.

    Zain, who had been silent until then, seemed immersed in deep introspection. The moments he had watched Ouray and Fleur perform the ritual had unlocked something within him. He drew from his still-foggy but undeniably certain memories. The sight of Fleur tapping into the essence of her power, merging with the vastly different power of Ouray, had inspired him, instilling a glimmer of hope in the midst of their defeat.

    "I have an idea," Zain announced, breaking the tense silence. The three looked at the young prince, questioning in their eyes, as he continued, lost in thought : "I believe we should try again, with me as the conduit."

    Zain''s words hung in the air, filled with a hint of hope but tinged with uncertainty. Ouray exchanged a glance with Fleur, as she admitted with dismay : "I don''t even know if I''ll have the strength to attempt it again."

    Ouray turned to Garth and gave him urgent instructions : "Go ahead, take the bag with personal belongings and quickly proceed to the second phase of the plan at the docks."

    Garth hesitated, his concerns showing on his face : "Are you sure you don''t want me to stay in case anything goes wrong?" he asked, worried about his companions'' safety.

    "No, you must now! All the information on the boat''s location is in the library with the bag of belongings to move." Ouray replied firmly.

    Garth hurried inside the mansion, leaving Zain, Ouray, and Fleur to face their doubts, alone in the pouring rain.

    "Trust me, I have a strong feeling it can work." Zain said, injecting a sense of determination into the group, even though he himself didn''t understand the source of his newfound confidence.

    Fleur sighed, slowly accepting the idea, as the boy positioned himself in the center, between the witch and the shaman. He extended each hand to grasp theirs on either side, forming a connection between them.

    "Begin." Zain announced, closing his eyes.

    The three acolytes cleared their minds, focusing intensely on the cars standing before them. The anticipation was palpable, a held breath in the darkness. After a brief moment, the bright white and green halos emerged again from the hands of Ouray and Fleur, flooding the scene with an ethereal glow. Their two incantations then blended in the air with impressive synchrony: "Paskwacisk?tam! Transmutare!"

    Zain''s voice finally rose, adding his own incantation: "Tahawal!"

    The halos of their power converged towards Zain, permeating his being with all their strength. His eyes suddenly opened, illuminated by a violet halo, while his body trembled under the impact of this consuming magic, like electric shocks coursing through him.

    Suddenly, a violet, green, and white bolt of lightning shot out of his chest, targeting all the cars in front of them, accompanied by a thunderous magical roar. The light emanating from Zain was so powerful that it flooded the courtyard with a blinding radiance, as if day had broken instantaneously.

    Overwhelmed by the power of this shared magic, Ouray and Fleur dropped to their knees. However, they held firm, not releasing Zain''s hands. The boy, plunged into a mystical trance, continued to act as a conduit for their powers as well as his own.

    Magic fused with the metal of the wrecked vehicles, slowly merging them together to create an unknown shape that slowly turned into a metal fountain in the front yard of the mansion. The massive object took form under Zain''s masterful control, a work of art born from magic itself. When the imposing creation was finally fully assembled, Zain instinctively released the hands of Fleur and Ouray, exhausted by the monumental effort they had just exerted.

    Both of them watched Zain in amazement at his performance. The boy continued to glow with a violet halo, surrounded by an unreal aura that held their gaze, a fascinating testament to the extent of his hidden powers.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Redwaters - 24 hours earlier ¨C The moment of Zain¡¯s arrival to Redwaters

    Zain finally crashed to the ground, his face coming into contact with the damp grass of Redwaters. His fall had been precipitated from several meters high. At the very moment of his brutal landing, a violet shockwave emanated from his body, spreading in all directions for hundreds of meters, like the blast of a supernatural bomb.

    The mystical wave, imbued with supernatural power, penetrated deep into the ground, infusing the earth with its foreign magic. As it moved through the soil, its energy roused the four white wolves, who layed buried beneath the earth, where Ouray had interred them the previous night. A shimmering aura of life swept over them, awakening them from their eternal slumber. These majestic creatures emerged from the ground, bathed in the radiance of the supernatural wave. Initially disoriented by their return to life, the wolves united their voices in a chorus of howls, a harmonious offering to the moonlight.

    The magical wave continued its course, flowing into the Redwaters River, the turbulent watercourse from which the town derived its name, commemorating the bloody battle that once stained its waters. The murky river water reacted to the influx of this new energy, slowly changing its hue to a shade of violet, as if reflecting the delicate balance between life and death.

    Suddenly, a feminine form began to emerge from the river''s depths. The specter of Sienna opened her eyes, a fiery gleam of anger in her gaze. Her incredulous eyes surveyed the surroundings, while bitter memories of her betrayal and fall resurfaced. Sienna had always been aware that this day would come, even though she hadn''t known the specifics of her return. She advanced, intrigued and determined, examining her now ethereal body with curiosity, aware that her enemy was close by. She could feel the curse she had inflicted on Hadrian resonating within her, serving as a reminder of the eternal debt he owed her. Sienna had successfully returned to the realm of the living, and she had one goal in mind: to find a way to bring back the others and exact her terrible vengeance on Hadrian for the suffering they had endured. The burning anger within her was fiercer than ever, and she was prepared to go to any lengths to achieve her agenda.

 Chapter 8

    On the other side of the Portal- Zain¡¯s dimension

    In the council chamber of the palace, a solemn silence prevailed, permeating every stone of the kingdom. Uma, seated alone, let her fingers graze her temple, immersed in deep reflection, persistent memories etched in her mind. The seats, once witnesses to lively discussions and crucial decisions, remained desperately empty, like forgotten remnants.

    The walls themselves told tales of the past, bearing countless conflicts, declared or avoided wars, and enacted laws. Uma, a pillar of justice in her kingdom, guided her people through storms at the cost of her own happiness. Draped in a black kaftan, a tribute to the loss of her son, she exuded an aura both dark and majestic.

    Since Za?n''s departure, her world had lost all flavor, plunging Uma into profound sadness. Her fingers moved slowly to her locket hidden beneath her kaftan, bearing Za?n''s name in calligraphy. Every curve of the writing invoked intimate moments, shared laughter, and tender instances. A precious treasure, a symbol of their unbreakable bond.

    Za?n''s escape had triggered a titanic battle, leading to the desertion of Bashar, her treacherous husband, and the flight of her two other sons. Their shadows now conspired to find Za?n, hoping to deliver him to the dreadful clan that had vowed to retrieve him. The betrayal of her own family had inflicted a deep, irreparable wound on Uma.

    Her hand rested on her heart, easing a persistent pain. She bore her burden with dignity, praying for her son''s salvation. When Za?n was revealed as the Decipherer, the prophecy surrounding him spread fear throughout the kingdom. But Uma did not perceive him as a threat, but rather as an invaluable asset. His power was a glimmer of faith in the future. She hoped that Za?n would ascend to the throne, ruling with the wisdom and compassion she knew he possessed, a hope dwindling more each passing day. In their final moments, she confided in him that fear clouded Bashar''s heart and that of her other children, a fear born of her son''s difference, a son without whom she could not fathom living.

    The imposing doors of the room swung open abruptly, revealing the entrance of an enigmatic entity entirely veiled in a black shroud. Only its purple eyes pierced the mystery of its figure, pulling the queen from her thoughts. The silhouette advanced toward Uma, a palpable concern in its gaze.

    "My queen, I bring news," she declared.

    Uma''s heart tightened further in her chest. "What is happening?" she asked.

    "It''s Za?n. It seems he has used his powers, casting a spell of great magnitude. A spell that would have left traces across the worlds..."

    A smile appeared on Uma''s face at this revelation. Her interlocutor, perplexed, asked, "You don''t seem to understand, my queen. This activity could hasten his location..."

    Uma''s smile persisted. It had taken only 24 hours for her son to access his power, his abilities were even more impressive than she could have imagined.

    "That kid is truly remarkable!" she exclaimed proudly, though aware of the danger that awaited him.

    "What will we do, my queen? Your husband and your other children seem to have allied with our enemies to find him. We need to cover his tracks."

    The news, though bearing potentially dire repercussions for the secrecy of her son''s location, had revived hope in Uma. She was aware that Za?n was temporarily safe, and she was more determined than ever to do everything in her power to ensure it endured.

    "Gather the council, summon them all to come immediately. We will no longer wait for attacks from our enemies; we will strike first!" she declared with determination, her purple eyes shining with a regained light.

    A few minutes later, the council room vibrated with a tense atmosphere, illuminated by the flickering light of candles. The dark woodwork of the walls seemed to absorb the anxious whispers that floated in the air. Queen Uma, seated at the end of the large stone table, observed attentively the leaders of the kingdom who had been hastily pulled from their beds.

    Among them, six women and four men, each adorned in the traditional burgundy cape, richly embroidered with golden threads. Their faces, marked by fatigue and worry, formed a mosaic of varied expressions, testifying to the sacrifices made to answer the queen''s urgent call. The massive door creaked open with a muffled sound, revealing the last arrival, the head of cultural developments. An almost centenarian man, his gaze filled with desolation, laboriously dragged his steps to his seat. The creaking of his feet on the floor echoed like a distant reminder of the weight of the years borne by this almost comically frail individual. His appearance completed the tableau, every member of the government now assembled.

    Uma, scrutinizing the assembly, could feel the electric anticipation that had settled in.

    The queen stood up, her dark kaftan echoing the gravity of the situation. All eyes converged on her, captivated by the quiet strength emanating from her person. She could feel the weight of responsibilities resting on her shoulders.

    "The times are grave, I don''t need to remind you," she began, her voice resonating in the room like a solemn echo. "We are preparing to engage in a battle that will not be without losses, and whose outcome is uncertain. I understand your fears; I understand your doubts."

    Murmurs of approval were heard, exchanged looks expressing shared anxiety. Uma continued, her eyes scanning each face like decipherable pages.

    "If my own husband, Za?n''s father, and his brothers could turn their backs on their family and kingdom, I am not naive about the torments that must afflict you since the beginning of this conflict."

    Faces nodded, visibly disturbed by memories of a familiar betrayal. Uma tightened her grip on the edge of the table, palpable emotion in the air.

    "The DAZARI, our sworn enemies, dedicate their existence to the search for the Decipherer. They chase us across the worlds, have made us nomads to escape their pursuit, and this even before Za?n''s birth, before learning of his power."

    A shiver ran through the assembly, each one recalling the endless nights spent fleeing, the worlds traversed in the shadows.

    "They seek Za?n because he is powerful; they seek Za?n because in their eyes, he is a formidable weapon they hope to use."

    The queen''s eyes met worried gazes, sparking flashes of determination.

    " Until now, many of us, my husband included, leaned towards the idea of surrendering him and bringing closure. However, how unwise would it be to hand over our most potent weapon to our fiercest enemies? What guarantees do we have that, once Za?n is captured, this despicable clan won''t exploit his powers to dominate not only us but also other worlds under their tyrannical rule? What I urge you to do today is to cease seeing Za?n as my son, your prince, or even a citizen of your people. Recognize him for what he truly is, for the power he represents in the eyes of the DAZARI. Regard him as a weapon, the ultimate weapon, and carefully consider whether it is wise to part with him or protect him at all costs."

    Silence settled, heavy with the stakes weighing on their shoulders. The expressions of the leaders oscillated between fear and responsibility, their faces becoming reflections of the crucial decisions that would shape the destiny of their kingdom.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Zain stretched languorously on the guest room¡¯s bed, his gaze lost in the patterns on the ceiling, a slight weariness creeping over him. His body, relaxed, surrendered to a carefree yawn. It was then that the door to the room opened suddenly, revealing Hadrian. The young man straightened up, taken aback by this sudden appearance.

    "I gathered that knocking on doors was customary in your world," the boy said, his tone tinged with irony.

    Hadrian looked at him in silence, a teasing smile playing on his lips. The divinely sculpted body of the immortal, bare chested and dressed only in his black jersey shorts- as usual before a workout session -seemed deliberately crafted to evoke temptation.

    "I''ve had enough of being stuck in the perpetual melancholy of the manor. I was wondering if you''d be up for hanging out¡­"

    "Hanging out?" the young man exclaimed in surprise.

    "I''ve been feeling quite isolated lately. We could just chat, spend some time together, if you''re not too busy¡­"

    Zain shot him an amused look, making it clear that he seemingly had nothing better to do.

    "Alright, let''s hang out!" declared Zain as he got up from the bed.

    Hadrian approached him slowly, closing the distance between them to mere inches. His eyes, infused with barely concealed seduction, unsettled Zain, whose cheeks flushed despite himself.

    "I need to sort something out first. Meet me in my bedroom in a few minutes." Hadrian''s warm breath gently brushed against Zain''s neck, a sensual breeze that elicited a delightful shiver. Their eyes locked, a thrilling spark igniting between them. Zain''s heartbeats quickened.

    Zain remained motionless, captivated by his magnetic presence.

    Hadrian turned away confidently, throwing a final glance over his shoulder at the still-astonished Zain. The muscles of his back outlined under the dimming light, his invitation lingering in the air, a silent challenge thrown to Za?n as Hadrian disappeared.

    Zain exhaled deeply, incredulous in the face of the interaction. His mind was in turmoil, trying to make sense of it all, to rationalize. Perhaps he had misinterpreted the situation, but with each attempt to convince himself otherwise, Hadrian''s teasing looks came back to him, as did the nuances of his lower back that his slightly sagging shorts revealed. Za?n, realizing he had never felt such attraction for anyone, sat back on the edge of the bed.

    He took one last deep breath, regaining somewhat control of his emotions, but he needed to be sure... The young prince got up and quickly left the room, crossing the long corridor leading to Hadrian''s chamber. His heart accelerated with anticipation as he quickened his pace, until finally arriving at his door.

    "This is the moment of truth"

    Shrill cries suddenly erupted from inside the room, a true nightmare of sound that grabbed the boy''s attention, abruptly bringing him back to reality. About to knock on the door, Zain decided to open it instead, concerned by these discordant sounds.

    "I know what I said about knocking before entering, but..."

    He said while entering the space, abruptly halted by the sight that met him.

    The walls were smeared with blood.

    Ouray''s mutilated body layed lifeless before him. Zain''s eyes widened as he discovered Hadrian, crouched over Fleur in a corner of the room, his face and body covered in blood, strangling the young woman. The witch struggled in vain as life escaped from her body. A shiver of terror ran through the young prince as Hadrian turned towards him, his eyes bloodshot, reminiscent of the night when Zain had seen him under the influence of his curse, murdering Tucker and his gang. The immortal, as if possessed, declared to Zain while still choking Fleur:

    "I told you to wait for a few minutes; your turn is coming!"

    Terror, like an irresistible impulse, propelled Zain out of the room in a desperate flight. Every corner of the manor becoming a maze of horror. Hadrian''s sinister laughter echoed behind him, a demonic melody resonating with unleashed madness. Every heartbeat echoed in the corridor, like the rumbling of a funeral drum, leaving Zain trapped in the relentless agony pursuing him.

    Zain emerged from the nightmare in the guest room, his body covered in sweat, the sound of the television he had neglected to turn off the night before resonating in the room. A blonde journalist, with a monotonous and tired voice, and countless boring suits, repeated the same details for a week, describing the developments in the investigation into the disappearance of the sheriff and his gang. Their personal belongings and boat had been found at sea, but not their bodies, and the search continued, plunging Redwaters into widespread mourning.

    One week.

    Zain quickly grabbed the remote control to end this redundant report. Television, an invention that Fleur had introduced to him, turned out to be his most valuable tool for understanding this new and unfamiliar world.

    At first, he had immersed himself in reading, exploring numerous historical books to better grasp the macabre past of this world, a dive into desolation. A world governed by conquest and oppression. He discovered with a heavy heart racism, sexism, homophobia, genocides, plunging into deep depression and unprecedented incomprehension.

    One afternoon, Fleur found him, empty eyed, pained beyond words.

    "How do you overcome all these horrors surrounding you in this world?" he asked, somber.

    "We numb ourselves in front of the TV," she replied simply, piquing his curiosity. "And if we''re really feeling down, we turn to reality TV," she added.

    Fleur then introduced him to Netflix, Prime Video, HBO, and all the other streaming platforms. Zain immersed himself in discovering pop culture shows, undergoing a true dive into American culture and its codes. He touched upon the importance of first dates, and all first times in general, proms and other social and coming of age gatherings. The arbitrary hierarchy that seemed to reign in their school system, as well as the importance they attached to all kinds of sports, which completely escaped him.

    Just as Fleur had predicted, beyond fiction treasures like "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" or cartoons like "The Little Mermaid" that he watched shamelessly on repeat, reality TV strangely managed to free him from his own reality. In particular, those shows where middle-aged women endlessly quarreled after consuming a mix of alcohol and prescription drugs. One of them even threw her prosthetic leg on a restaurant table during an argument, absolutely fascinating... He could finally divert his mind to conflicts bearing no consequences. However, just like his newfound fondness for sugar cubes, his recent love for television was not enough to soothe the torments that afflicted him. Despite his efforts to learn more about this world, his heart longed to be truly a part of it, not just observe it.

    Over the past week, a memory had resurfaced from the depths of his past. It stirred in him the lingering feeling that even in the dimension he came from, he felt out of sync, a stranger in his own world. Despite the certainty that in his home universe, a deep affection awaited him, his heart, like a wanderer, longed to discover its true place, somewhere else, where his roots could flourish.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Zain dragged himself wearily to the kitchen, the shadows of the terrifying nightmare still lingering in his eyes, marked by the uncertainties that seemed to weave the threads of his new life.

    Ouray and Fleur were engrossed in conversation, their voices filling the room with animated vibrations, when he made his entrance.

    "Well, well, look who finally honors us with his presence, our very own grumpy teenager," teased Fleur as she noticed his scowling expression.

    "According to your laws, I''ve been considered an adult for a year now, old enough to be on my way to university, legally carry weapons, and vote, but still deprived of the right to savor a single glass of alcohol! Someone will have to explain that to me," pleaded Zain as he took a seat on one of the stools around the central island of the kitchen, next to Fleur.

    Ouray flashed a smile in response to his remark while pouring a steaming cup of coffee, delicately placing it in front of the boy. Zain expressed his gratitude with a nod before seizing a sugar cube, devouring it, gradually regaining color.

    "You are aware that sugar is supposed to go in the coffee, right?" teased Ouray with amusement. Zain responded with an embarrassed look, realizing that the idea of sweetening his drink had indeed never crossed his mind.

    "Did you know that almost all of Elliott''s little sister''s classmates had to redo their senior high school year after the accident last fall ? They''re all eighteen or older," Fleur casually slipped in.

    Ouray shot Fleur a suspicious look, his voice tinged with mistrust.

    "Fleur, where are you going with this?" he inquired, detecting a mystery in the young woman''s words.

    Fleur''s gaze softened as it delved into Ouray''s eyes.

    "Ouray, take a moment to observe this poor boy," she whispered, as if revealing a long-held secret. "He''s bored to death. Trapped in these walls, between reading, television, and training sessions to harness his powers, with you..."

    Ouray gave Fleur a vexed look at , compelling her to amend her statement, her confusion evident on her face : "Of course, there''s nothing boring about training with you... It''s just that he needs the opportunity to dedicate his time to other activities more in line with his age," she explained.

    Fleur''s words carried a weight that conveyed a genuine concern for the well-being of the boy, who had become an ally and fast friend through the shared experiences they had faced together. Ouray felt a pang of guilt, a flash of realization in the face of the unintentional isolation that had befallen Zain.

    "The ''he'' you''re talking about is sitting right here, hearing both of you," interjected Zain, raising his hand. "And he actually agrees. What do you suggest?" he asked, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.

    "I believe there''s no better way to fully explore our world than to attempt enrolling in high school for senior year", Fleur concluded, eliciting general surprise.

    "What an idea, Fleur?! What will he tell people: ''Hello, I''m Zain, and I come from another dimension, that''s why i don''t get social cues?" retorted Ouray, sarcastically.

    "He can say he''s from Europe. It worked for my father. Mom was shocked by the privileges he was granted simply because he came from France. I think, for most people around here, another dimension seems less foreign than Italy or Spain. That would explain the cultural gap that might occur and avoid second guessing..." Fleur offered as an idea .

    Ouray and Zain both looked at her; she seemed to have undoubtedly thought about the matter.

    "And what about the school curriculum? Do you think he can just show up in senior year and miraculously get by?" asked Ouray.

    "Ouray, Zain managed to decode our language in a matter of minutes, and he has read more books on the history of our world in a week than most of these high school students in their lifetime. I don''t think the curriculum would be challenging for him," assured the witch, with a determined tone.

    Zain was in awe, a silent spectator. He had never considered that enrolling in high school could be a possibility. Could he really do it? Attend an educational institution like those he had seen in TV series, make friends, take part in social activities, go to the prom¡­ Feel normal?

    "Fleur, Zain remains the target of a pursuit about which we still know nothing. It wouldn''t be wise for him to be exposed in that way," reminded Ouray.

    The boy plunged back into the reality of his situation with his words, watching his dream of integration gradually dissipating before his eyes.

    "I disagree." said Hadrian as he entered the room, dressed in a black suit and a sky-blue T-shirt, accentuating the gray of his eyes as Zain immediately noticed.

    All three turned toward him, surprised by his appearance and intrusion into the conversation. Hadrian had kept a low profile after the events of the past week. Once the effects of the tranquilizers had worn off, he had isolated himself in his room, only emerging for lonely training sessions, otherwise numbing himself with pills intended to calm his episodes, becoming a mere shadow of his former self.

    Zain had visited him daily, making sure he stayed stable. However, the immortal remained an unyielding wall, unresponsive to almost any contact. Yet, there he stood, freshly shaved and dressed as usual, just as he was before that harrowing night they had all endured, which left his three friends perplexed. A palpable tension hung in the air, carrying the weight of all the unspoken questions that none of them had the time or courage to address...yet.

    "Going to high school could be the perfect cover for him. Blend into the crowd. It''ll be harder to track him down that way," added the immortal.

    "We''re getting really good at this game, the cover-ups..." replied Fleur, still incredulous at their success, even if temporary, in concealing their involvement in the sheriff''s and his gang''s demise.

    Hadrian lowered his eyes at this remark, his guilt still palpable. Fleur immediately regretted her words, not realizing their impact. Sensing the tension, Zain quickly intervened:

    "I really want to try this high school thing, even just for one day. Who knows, maybe I''ll hate it! In all the TV shows I watch, students spend their time skipping classes... I just want the opportunity to experience something... anything... more." pleaded the boy, eager for new discoveries.

    The look in Ouray''s eyes, previously full of reservations, softened in the face of the excitement that seemed to animate the boy, as he declared:

    "I don''t see any harm in giving it a try... just to see, as you said..."

    "For real? Am I really going to do this?" he asked, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

    Zain jumped off the stool and landed on his feet, he couldn''t believe it. A thousand thoughts clashed in his mind, but for once, it wasn''t his anxiety associated with fear, but genuine excitement.

    "Im going to need new clothes!" he exclaimed, ecstatic.

    "Hadrian has a black card, he''s your man for shopping!" Fleur confided with a complicit wink. "I would have loved to accompany you, but my flight to Paris takes off in just three hours!"

    She had indeed made the decision to follow through with the lead on the potential involvement of her father in her mother''s murder.

    The accusations made by Marsha on the matter when Fleur was held captive, combined with the revelations Tucker had made to Hadrian in the cabin- clearly incriminating her father-and which the immortal had shared with her during one of his rare human interactions in the past week, had prompted her to try and close definitely this chapter by getting to the bottom of it.

    "Are you sure about this, Fleur?" Ouray asked her one last time, concerned about the potential dangers and implications that this reunion might have, especially if their suspicions proved to be true.

    "Don''t worry, I''ve got it under control. I need this, to finally move on. And I promise not to do anything reckless. I just want answers." reassured their friend, although secretly besieged by fears and doubts...

    "Fleur, I have two words for you: Moulin Rouge! Please take a picture for me!" Zain asked her, excited at the thought of the young woman visiting one of his favorite film locations.

    Hadrian couldn''t help but smile at the boy''s reactions, he seemed to have regained a spark of joy.

    "I can take you to town if you want, you could check out what''s at the mall" Hadrian suggested to Zain.

    Zain gave him a skeptical look, flashes of his nightmare assaulting him abruptly. Hadrian chasing him through the corridor. Blood on the walls¡­ The boy pushed away the images. The immortal disturbed him beyond words. His attraction towards him was as strong as the fear he inspired him.

    "Let''s go!" Zain exclaimed, trying to keep his composure in the face of the surge of conflicting emotions that overwhelmed him when it came to Hadrian.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    At the police station, the officers'' faces were pale, marked by fatigue from the search at sea for the bodies of the sheriff and his gang, as well as the investigation surrounding their disappearance. In the cafeteria, Elliott sat across from his fellow officers Oliver and Nina, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Fleur was leaving for Paris to see her father. He feared the impact that this reunion with the man who had abandoned her could have on his beloved. He would have rather tried to dissuade her, especially after the violent accident she had endured the week prior at Hadrian''s when an old chandelier collapsed on both of them. He would have at least wanted to be able to accompany her on her journey, but it was impossible for him to take time off from work in the current circumstances. Fleur assured him that it was an essential final step before they got married, and he could only support her in this crucial endeavor, although he couldn''t help but worry about her well-being, as he always did.

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Nina broke the silence, addressing the two men in a low voice:

    "Are you aware of the FBI¡¯s arrival this afternoon?"

    "The FBI? But why?" questioned Oliver, surprised.

    "Apparently, they want to dig deeper into what happened to Sheriff Tucker..." she replied, still whispering.

    "What exactly would they want to investigate?" asked Elliott. "The storm capsized their boat; there was a tempest that night, and there were no life jackets or lifeboats on board. It must be just to keep up appearances..." commented Elliott, emerging somewhat from his thoughts.

    "I think Tucker was involved in shady dealings, and they apparently want to explore those leads..." added the young woman softly, making sure that no one was listening.

    "We''ve always known he was shady, with his strange behaviors, mysterious comings and goings, and hidden files..." confirmed Oliver, looking unsurprised.

    "What hidden files?" inquired Elliott, curious about this revelation.

    "Officers saw him studying red-labeled files on several occasions. Each time they caught him, he would divert their attention and change the subject..." Oliver recounted to him.

    "Some officers even think they were cases he was trying to bury to hide his involvement, others believe they might just be porn magazines. But we''ll never get the answer unless the FBI makes the information public after going through his office." Nina concluded, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

    "Red files." Elliott indeed remembered catching the sheriff arranging files of that color in an old rusty crate. It was one evening when he had come to greet him before taking leave. Tucker had seemed particularly unpleasant during that exchange, but Elliott hadn''t paid attention to the contents of those documents, merely observing the dilapidated state of the old, worn-out crate in which the sheriff stored them. He remembered thinking that the supplies budget definitely needed an increase before someone caught tetanus.

    But what could the sheriff possibly be hiding? If the FBI came in the afternoon to retrieve the documents, he would surely never find out...

    "I lent the sheriff my mother''s engraved pen just before his disappearance, for him to fill out a discharge form. It''s still in his office. Don''t you think the FBI would take it with his belongings?" Elliott asked, looking genuinely concerned.

    "If they come because they suspect something fishy, they''ll take absolutely everything. You know their methods..." Nina replied.

    "If I lose her pen, I''ll hear about it until the end of my life or hers. I''m supposed to sign my marriage contract with it, a family tradition..." he added hastily.

    "I advise you to go get it quickly then; everyone is having lunch, take advantage of it!" Oliver told him, seemingly invested in his colleague''s dilemma.

    Elliott looked at them, awaiting their final approval, doubting himself. His two colleagues signaled him to hurry. Elliott quickly stood up, discreetly leaving the cafeteria.

    "Do you think those FBI agents will be hot at least?" Nina asked Oliver as Elliott slipped away. Oliver ignored her question and silently ate a fry, both of them oblivious to Elliott''s true intentions.

    Elliott discreetly entered the sheriff''s office. The light was off. The officer pulled out his phone to activate the flashlight and headed towards the desk. Utter chaos reigned on the furniture. Elliott''s heart raced as he heard footsteps outside the door in the corridor. He waited for a moment, wondering if satisfying his curiosity was worth the risk of being discovered here and the potential repercussions it could have on him. The external sounds ceased, somewhat calming his nerves. A rusted box, a mystery to unveil. Elliott cautiously advanced into the dimness of the office, guided by his phone''s flashlight. He opened the first drawer, revealing a jumble of documents and yellow folders, the usual color for most filings at the police station. Nothing suspicious at first glance.

    Closing the drawer, Elliott moved on to the next one. He pulled out a few loose sheets, and there, bingo! The papers concealed the infamous box. A shiver of apprehension ran through him. It was still time to turn back. What good would it do to uncover the sheriff''s secrets, now deceased and taking his secrets with him? Elliott hesitated, looking at the object for a few moments before deciding to act. Placing the old box on the desk, he noticed a lock. Of course, an additional obstacle. Fortunately, traces of his rebellious adolescence persisted, even though he had long abandoned juvenile delinquency.

    One summer, his mother had sealed the home bar to restrict access to alcohol, prompting Elliott to develop certain skills. The lock was tiny, child''s play for him. He grabbed the green paperclip on the desk, unfolding it carefully, straightening it like a needle. Crouching in front of the box, the paperclip in one hand and his phone illuminating the object in the other, he delivered a few blows. In an instant, the inserted piece of metal causing the old lock to yield. Elliott''s dexterity was as sharp as ever. Other footsteps outside the door caught his attention; he had to act quickly. Elliott straightened up and opened the box, illuminating its contents with the flashlight, finally revealing the infamous red folders. He pulled out several, each labeled with a different name. Opening the first one, labeled "Donna Silo," he found a picture of a woman with various documents attached. Elliott struggled to read their contents at first, and was surprised by the annotations when finally could.

    "Unidentified creature," "Non-human," "Unidentified powers." What could all this mean? Did the sheriff believe in aliens? Elliott wondered naively, almost amused. He knew that Tucker seemed disturbed, but not completely insane. Elliott opened several red folders, quickly scanning through them, astonished to find the same annotations. However, it wasn''t about aliens; the sheriff seemed to suspect these people of being demonic creatures. Unbelievable.

    "Succubus," "Magician," "Suspected vampire" "Werewolf"... What would be next? The town had a vaguely supernatural reputation in the eyes of tourists, but he couldn''t conceive that a man like the sheriff could genuinely believe that these people were creatures out of horror movies.

    As Elliott, stunned by his discovery, prepared to leave the office, regretting having taken all these risks just to uncover that Tucker must have lost his mind, he stumbled upon a file with the name of someone he didn''t expect to see at all. His blood ran cold as he read Fleur''s name on the label. Fleur Willard. But what could this lunatic suspect about Fleur? The shadows in the corridor thickened as someone approached. Elliott, his mind racing, quickly grabbed Fleur''s file, stealthily hiding it under his shirt, in his pants. As he was about to close the box, his eyes were drawn to the file underneath, bearing the name Hadrian Archer. What did all this mean? Elliott repeated the maneuver, concealing Hadrian''s file with Fleur''s in his pants before hastily closing the box, which he placed back in the drawer.

    The palpitations of his heart intensified as the doorknob began to turn. The prospect of being discovered in this room was laden with oppressive tension.

    Elliott zipped his jacket, ensuring that the files remained invisible through his clothes. He silently prayed that the FBI wouldn''t barge into the room. The door swung open, revealing Nina.

    "Did you find your pen yet?" she asked in a urgent voice. A sigh of relief escaped from Elliott.

    "No... I looked everywhere..." he replied, trying to conceal the turmoil within him.

    "I saw cars parking on the other side of the street; I think they''re coming," she added, prompting Elliott to rush towards the door. The two of them hastily left the office, immersed in darkness, leaving behind a mystery that had only deepened.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Zain and Hadrian had finally departed, and Fleur was already on her way to the airport. For Ouray, the long-awaited moment to embark on his quest had finally arrived. The shaman had diligently explored all available leads, earnestly seeking to unravel the mystery surrounding Zain''s identity, the origin of his enigmatic powers, and the true meaning of Fleur''s evidently prophetic nightmare. Despite his sustained efforts, the answers remained elusive, inexorably casting the shadow of impending threats upon them. Zain''s powers seemed to have revived the white wolf slain by the sheriff, a power familiar to Ouray. It was this familiarity that had ignited the flame to pursue this avenue, which he dreaded more than anything in the world.

    The manor, now deserted, became the silent stage for Ouray''s secret endeavor.

    What he was about to undertake would plunge him into the heart of the intricacies of his past, an era that had been the epicenter of all his torments, the playground of his personal curse. Although Hadrian remained unaware, it was that very past that had prompted him, centuries ago, to come to his aid and recognize in the reflections of his affliction, his own mistakes. Ouray had seen in the tumult of the latter the reflection of his own struggles, and in the assistance he could provide, a path to his own redemption in the face of guilt that had gnawed at him, since he had allowed the irreparable to occur.

    His once confident fingers trembled slightly as he held the ancestral concoction, a fragile connection to the realm of the dead.

    The cup in his hands, filled with the mystical mixture, bore witness to the internal struggle raging within him. Drops of sweat beaded on his forehead. Each step echoed like the regular beat of an anxious heart, underscoring the magnitude of this decision.

    Ouray''s thoughts went to Fleur, her courage resonating in the silence of the room. Memories of the risks she took to confront her own past swirled in the atmosphere, infusing him with courage.

    Ouray brought the concoction to his lips, the magical liquid sliding down his throat with overwhelming intensity. The ancestral potion triggered an almost instantaneous reaction. The walls of the corridor began to metamorphose, dancing before his eyes like shifting shadows. An insidious warmth seized his being, causing uncontrollable shivers that besieged his body.

    The walls of the manor dissipated around Ouray, plunging him into the village of his ancestors, a place saturated with happy memories and poignant sadness.

    The first rays of the sun, timid yet piercing, penetrated the dense canopy of the forest, casting a soft light on the Powhatan village. The gentle murmur of the river accompanied his first steps, inviting him to rediscover the heart of this once-thriving community.

    At the outskirts of the village, circular bark huts gracefully rose, skillfully woven with flexible branches and adorned with geometric patterns in vibrant colors. Each dwellings exhaling a tranquil smoke, a sign of the early morning activities.

    In the central square, a sacred ritual unfolded before his awestruck eyes, reviving a myriad of lost memories. Tribe members, adorned in garments richly decorated with beads and shells, danced in harmony around a fire. Their graceful movements merging with the surrounding nature, while the beat of the drums created a hypnotic cadence, the vital pulse of this unique place.

    Powhatan women, whose mere sight tightened his heart with nostalgia, were dressed in skirts made of plant fibers, skillfully crafting intricate baskets with a fascinating expertise. Their agile hands transforming simple branches into works of art. A tear welled in his eye, while a smile formed on his lips. Nothing compared to the feeling of coming home, as he had confided in Hadrian. His heart tightened in his chest, an undeniable weight of what he had lost.

    Near the river, men prepared for the day''s fishing. Armed with woven nets and wooden spears, heading towards the waters, ready to take advantage of the wealth surrounding them. Strolling through the village, Ouray avoided children running around without paying him any attention, joining other little ones immersed in games he still fondly remembered. Their laughter and shouts filled the air under the benevolent gaze of the elders, some proudly wearing feathered headdresses, living symbols of their deep connection with the spirit of animals.

    On the other side of the village, shamans gathered around medicinal plants, preparing remedies to heal both the physical and spiritual ailments of the tribe. Their wisdom and knowledge reminded him of the hours of learning he had taken so much pleasure in acquiring.

    As his visit extended, the sense of unity and harmony emanating from every corner overwhelmed him. Every element of the Powhatan village seemed to blend seamlessly with the surrounding nature, a unity he had destroyed with his own hands.

    The echo of a familiar voice assaulted his ears; he so desperately wanted to follow it, but he had no right. This journey was not for him, he reminded himself. He moved towards the hut nestled deeper in the village, his eyes now fixed on his steps, unwilling to meet anyone''s gaze, shame engulfing him.

    He lifted the animal hide at the entrance of the dwelling to enter. Everything was the same. Ouray crossed the threshold of the hut, plunging into the dim light filtering through the interstices of the branches. The soft glow illuminated a space where Medicinal herbs hung from the ceiling, filling the air with a soothing fragrance. By the light of the sacred fire, an old shaman, draped in animal skins and bead necklaces, sat, reciting ancient prayers. His chants creating a spiritual symphony that vibrated throughout the hut. Each symbolic artefact around them seemed to be a portal, inviting spirits to respond. Ouray settled cross-legged in front of the old man, a tangible apprehension knotting his stomach at the thought of what was to come.

    It was the first time he was in direct contact with his people, and he still didn''t know how they would react to this intrusion. The old shaman interrupted his chants, the vibrations of his drum resonating in the peaceful air of the hut. He slowly opened his eyes, looking at Ouray with an intensity that surpassed mere human gaze. No emotion betrayed his face, as if years of wisdom had made him imperturbable.

    "Calm the turmoil swirling within you, Ouray. This is not the place to lose yourself in the shadows of the past. Your destiny is tied to something greater. What brings you among us, what do you seek ?" He murmured in a hoarse voice, his ancestral wisdom evident in every word.

    Ouray nodded slightly, captivated by the old shaman''s words before responding :

    "Zain. Since his arrival, he has altered magic itself. We need to understand if he is connected to Fleur''s nightmare and what they portend for the looming threat..."

    The old shaman nodded slowly, as if perceiving deeper secrets than those spoken aloud.

    "The Decipherer Prince is the catalyst, the epicenter of conflicts foreign to our world. His role, his power, are not our enemies, but the enemy, he will seek to seize them to bury everything... It is YOUR role, Ouray, that must be determined. The sacrifice¡­ You must remember it to reclaim your place." He declared, mysterious shadows dancing in the fire that illuminated the hut.

    "The Decipherer Prince? What does that mean? What sacrifice?" He asked, anxious.

    The old shaman gave him one last look, as Ouray awoke in the mansion''s living room, his body drenched in sweat.

    The old man''s mysterious words swirled in Ouray''s mind, like prophetic echoes. The transition from the oneiric world to the tangible reality of the mansion plunged the Native American''s thoughts into an ethereal fog, preventing him from grasping what had just happened to him.

    He rushed to grab a pen and a sheet of paper, placed on a small table, quickly writing the words :"Decipherer Prince" and "Sacrifice," fearing he might forget the revelations he had just received.

    Ouray settled into the chair near the fire, overwhelmed by the immersion into his past. Unable to restrain his emotions, he bursted into sobs, his tears flowing with a devastating force. It was a raw and uncontrollable reaction, marking the profound impact that this journey had left on him.

    He was like an open wound, paralyzed by pain, sadness and regret.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    In the back of the Jeep, the pile of bags from various stores, plundered by Zain, had reached its breaking point. The scene resembled a successful raid, a heterogeneous accumulation of treasures unearthed. The two men were driving back, their eyes filled with reminiscences, the experience had nonetheless succeeded in releasing some of the pressure weighing on their shoulders.

    "You''re really good at this," confessed Hadrian, impressed by the daring choices of the boy who had just arrived in their dimension.

    "Splurging your money?" joked Zain, sporting a smirk, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint.

    Hadrian returned his smile. It was the first time since his episode that he had found some semblance of normalcy, and he couldn''t help but think that Zain had something to do with it. Their initial encounter had been marked by the magical wave emanating from the boy, clarifying Hadrian''s confused thoughts. When Tucker had trapped him, it was Zain''s blood that had given him the strength to escape, and when Hadrian had lost all control, it was Zain who had managed to stop him. An undeniable and mysterious connection bound them, manifesting yet again that morning¡­

    "I''m glad to see that you seem to be doing better..." Zain uttered, treading carefully, unsure of how to broach the subject with him.

    "I needed time to assimilate what happened, but i do appreciate you checking on me like you did..." Hadrian sighed, his gaze lost in the passing landscape.

    "Hadrian, I know that loosing control must make you blame yourself, but we''re also aware that without your intervention, those men would have killed us all," Zain tried to comfort Hadrian, expressing deep gratitude.

    "That doesn''t justify what I did... When I lose control, I can''t see anything... I have to prevent it from happening again, at all costs. I don''t want my own friends to be afraid of me." Hadrian''s forehead wrinkled with a determined yet sorrowful expression.

    "Your friends aren''t afraid of you, Hadrian; they''re afraid for you." Zain placed a reassuring hand on Hadrian''s shoulder, his eyes revealing sincere empathy.

    "I know I scare you. You don''t need to hide it. If I were in your shoes, I''d be scared too." Hadrian lowered his gaze.

    "What makes you say that?" Zain sought Hadrian''s eyes.

    "Your nightmare this morning, we shared it," the immortal confessed, uncertain.

    Zain''s gaze lifted, a mixture of surprise and concern showing on his face.

    "What? You were in my dream?!" Zain exclaimed, mortified at the thought that Hadrian might have witnessed the semi-erotic, semi-horrific episode where he played the lead role. His cheeks flushed violently, a sign of his growing embarrassment.

    Hadrian flashed a slight smile, sensing Zain''s discomfort.

    "I don''t know how it happened, but I was there... And I think that''s what allowed me to break out of my isolation this morning."

    "Oh my god! Everyone has weird dreams that absolutely mean nothing ! The night before, I dreamed I was an elephant dancing in a sequin dress, and I don''t even like sequins!" Zain justified, completely disoriented and embarrassed.

    His cheeks reddened, he began to sweat, wanting desperately to extricate himself from the situation by any means. He wished the earth would open up and swallow him whole.

    "What worries me the most is the part where you see me as a monster, not the other one..." Hadrian lowered his eyes, expressing a vulnerability he wasn''t accustomed to showing. Zain, although still very embarrassed, couldn''t help but understand the feeling of the latter.

    "I don''t see you as a monster... I just realize there''s a part of you I understand nothing about, and that''s what scares me, not understanding..." Zain tried to reassure Hadrian.

    Hadrian turned to Zain, his eyes filled with a glimmer of sadness.

    "Would you help me?" the immortal asked.

    "Of course, how?"

    "Your powers clearly have an effect on the curse. No known magic had the ability to alter its nature, at least not until you arrived... I believe you can help me tame my affliction."

    Hadrian''s words echoed in the air. Touched that he turned to him for such a task, Zain responded immediately :

    "I will do everything I can."

    Hadrian replied with a smile, adding :

    "With you, I feel an ease i haven''t felt in a long time... Just now, our conversation, it''s not usual for me to open up like this..."

    Zain, astonished to hear him speak these words, was deeply moved by the declaration.

    "...It has to be your powers." Hadrian added to conclude his sentence.

    Zain''s heart tightened in his chest, taken aback by this assertion.

    "Do you really believe that my powers are the reason you feel comfortable talking to me?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

    "Zain, that''s not what I meant..." Hadrian tried to recover, the truth being that he himself didn''t know how to navigate through his unfamiliar feelings for the young man.

    "it''s quite clear, actually," Zain replied, a knot forming in his stomach.

    "Zain, you''ve just arrived in this world, you''re still in shock from everything that happened, from your amnesia... You''re just starting a new life here... Believe me, the last thing you''d want to burden yourself with, is me," Hadrian explained awkwardly, as if trying to convince himself of this reality.

    The two men looked at each other, a palpable tension hanging between them. Hadrian seemed determined to protect Zain from his own troubles, but in the eyes of the boy, an understanding tinged with melancholy appeared. Zain felt a sense of inexplicable frustration and disappointment ; he had genuinely felt that he and Hadrian were building sincere connections...

    "You know, despite what you might think, the most disappointing part about what you said... is that I truly believed that, confusion aside, we were starting to become friends." Zain expressed, visibly vexed.

    Hadrian wanted to backtrack on his words, be more articulate, but how could he, when he was so unsure of what he felt? His only certainty was that he had never intended to hurt Zain, and he had failed miserably.

    The boy eagerly anticipated their imminent arrival. He wished he could open the door while the car was still moving and just get out, his leg starting to fidget in small anxious movements.

    Finally, Hadrian stopped the Jeep in front of the mansion gate. Zain immediately exited the vehicle, eager to distance himself from Hadrian, heading toward the home without looking back.

    "Zain, wait, you''re forgetting your bags!" called the immortal, but the boy was already gone.

    Zain entered the hall, the atmosphere seeming to absorb his clouded energy. Meanwhile, Ouray descended the stairs with a palpable haste, his footsteps echoing with an urgent rhythm. The weary glow on his saddened face was a subtle canvas, a canvas that eluded Zain''s perception, consumed by the storm of his own inner turmoil.

    "Ouray, I need your help!" exclaimed Zain, launching a desperate plea. However, the shaman, lost in thought, continued on his path, murmuring absentmindedly :

    "Later, I have an urgent matter to attend to."

    Zain desperately seeked a glimmer of friendly understanding in Ouray''s eyes, but only found the shadows of concealed concerns.

    Unheeding of the distress in Zain''s voice, Ouray quickened his pace, determined to fulfill his personal quest.

    "Please, it will only take a minute!" insisted Zain, his voice resonating in the hall like a cry for help.

    Ouray, reaching the door, turned back, confronting the persistence of the young man.

    "I need a spell to prevent Hadrian from entering my dreams! I would have asked Fleur, but she''s didn''t land yet" pleaded Zain.

    Ouray looked at Zain, a mix of curiosity and a desire to end this conversation to get going showing on his face.

    "Enter your dreams?" he asked, intrigued by the unusual request.

    "I had a nightmare last night, and Hadrian told me that he was also in there, as if he witnessed it. I want to make sure it doesn''t happen again." Zain shared anxious and embarrassed, hoping Ouray wouldn''t delve further into the details of his dream.

    "Zain, just like with the subconscious, one cannot connect and wander into others'' dreams so easily. The only instance where two people can seemingly share a dream without the intervention of a spell would be if they both dream of the same thing at the same time... which is very rare, almost impossible."

    Zain froze, absorbing this revelation that shook his convictions,

    "I really must go; I''ll see you later. You can explain everything better then."

    Ouray said before exiting, leaving Zain alone, the shaman''s words echoing in his troubled mind.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    The air at Creeks was saturated with a deceptive tranquility on that evening, where the apparent calm concealed the muted echoes of the recent tragedy. The death of the sheriff and his friends had cast a dark shadow over the community, a shock that compelled residents to retreat into their families, seeking refuge in the warmth of their homes. In the aftermath of the catastrophe, Redwaters had sunk into a resigned silence, the streets emptying of the usual bustle that characterized this small town.

    A country melody, tinged with nostalgia, wafted through the air, emanating from the tired speakers of the bar. The notes intertwined with hushed murmurs of conversations. In the background, the television, casting a bluish glow on the patrons'' faces, relentlessly repeated the details of the case, creating an almost palpable tension.

    Lost in his thoughts, Elliott sat at the bar, his fingers mechanically circling the neck of his fourth beer. Shadows danced on his face, reflecting the mystery that had haunted him since the discovery of the files. He couldn''t bring himself to go home, choosing instead to drown his turmoil in the hazy atmosphere of Creeks.

    The files, stolen and now in his hands, revealed unsettling truths. The red pages accused Fleur, his fianc¨¦e, of witchcraft, just like her mother and grandmother before her. Initially, the idea seemed extravagant to Elliott, almost comical, but delving into Hadrian''s file revealed the contours of a larger puzzle.

    Photographs of Fleur''s best friend, captured at various times, seemed extracted from a fantasy tale. Hadrian, frozen in time, hadn''t aged a day. Images from the ''70s and the ''40s coexisted with documents bearing his name, stretching back centuries. Elliot, scrutinizing the pages, found himself faced with a confounding mystery, heightened by the sheriff''s annotation on Hadrian''s file: "Unknown."

    Doubt had insinuated itself into Elliott''s mind like a subtle poison, and his skepticism toward the supernatural seemed to be put to the test. These files, containing the secrets of the individuals the sheriff appeared to have been monitoring, seemed to be a gateway to the unknown. But what was even more challenging for Elliott to accept was the idea that Fleur might be concealing such an extraordinary reality from him. He believed they could tell each other everything, that their connection was indestructible, and the notion that his fianc¨¦e could lead a double life, concealing unsuspected powers, left him completely overwhelmed.

    It would have been easier for him to accept a file accusing his own mother of witchcraft than to contemplate Fleur in such a predicament. Every shared moment with her played before his eyes¡ªmoments where she mysteriously vanished, convoluted excuses to explain her absence, or even strange accidents she fell victim to. The previous week, when Fleur and Hadrian had been knocked unconscious by a falling chandelier, it was precisely the day of the sheriff''s disappearance. An insidious thought emerged in Elliott''s mind: what if Fleur and Hadrian had something to do with the sheriff''s death?

    The shiver that had coursed through Elliott''s body lingered, leaving a chilling imprint on his being. He felt engulfed in a whirlwind of suspicion, trapped in a web of uncertainty where the truth seemed elusive. The thought that Fleur, the love of his life, could be connected to such a dark tragedy was an almost unbearable burden. Internally, he fought to push away these thoughts, convincing himself that he was losing his sanity, that such ideas had no place in the reality of the woman he cherished so much.

    Turning to the bartender, Joe, Elliott gestured wearily for another beer. He knew that alcohol wasn''t an ally in moments of doubt, but the bitter warmth of the golden liquid seemed to be the only constant in a suddenly uncertain world. His phone, placed next to him, began to vibrate, displaying Fleur''s name on the bright screen. An instant of apprehension seized him.

    His heart tightened in his chest.The call that must mean that she had arrived safely, that she was okay. But Elliott couldn''t bring himself to answer, not in this state of confusion and torment. The doubts, the questions, the growing shadows in his mind seemed to paralyze him.

    The phone continued to vibrate, but Elliott stared at it, frozen. The light from the screen illuminated his face, revealing his hesitant expression. Fleur must be wondering why he wasn''t answering, why her call remained unanswered. But Elliott felt trapped between the reality of what he was discovering and the love he held for that woman that he might not even truly know. The phone finally stopped vibrating, and silence fell like a veil.

    The dark silhouette of Marsha took a seat on the empty stool next to Elliott, dressed in a black dress that seemed to absorb the surrounding light.

    Crossing her legs on the seat, she seemed like a shadow emerging straight from a dark corner of the bar. The witch observed Elliott in silence for a few seconds, her piercing eyes scanning his soul, before breaking the silence with her raspy voice that rose, pulling the young man from his internal turmoil:

    "I believe I am able to answer the questions you might have about Fleur, Elliott Samuels."

    Elliott turned his incredulous gaze toward her as Marsha, a sinister smile hovering on the edge of her lips, seemed to relish in advance at the idea of further complicating Fleur''s existence.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Zain paced back and forth in his room, a feverish restlessness consuming him. Ouray''s revelations had planted seeds of doubt in his mind, and he couldn''t bring himself to leave things as they were with Hadrian. If the immortal had truly not only witnessed, but shared his dream...Zain needed to be certain. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing a reminder of the uncertainty looming over him.

    Despite the disappointment caused by Hadrian''s words in the car, Zain was far from resigning himself. He felt an urgent need to comprehend, to unravel the complex threads of this strange circumstance.

    Just like in his nightmare, he was already heading towards Hadrian''s room, a fierce determination illuminating his eyes.

    Each step brought him closer to the immortal''s chamber, but his confidence wavered with every advance. What if Ouray was mistaken? What if everything was just a misunderstanding, an mislead interpretation? And, most importantly, what would happen if Hadrian simply refused to face what he had to say to him?

    Now standing in front of the door, Zain was overwhelmed by doubt. His hands, hesitant, rose to knock, but they trembled slightly, as if sensing that this encounter could change the course of things irreversibly.

    The suspended moments before Zain''s knock seemed endless. Before he could act, the door opened, revealing Hadrian about to leave his room. Their eyes met, and a fleeting moment of hesitation crossed Zain''s face, while Hadrian, looking relieved, seemed to welcome his unexpected presence.

    "Zain! I''m glad to see you; I was coming to apologize for earlier. Come in!" Hadrian opened the door wide, inviting Zain into the space. Zain''s heartbeats quickened, mixing apprehension with a strange excitement.

    Zain crossed the threshold, instinctively scanning every corner as if expecting to find traces of a massacre, much like in his nightmare. A fleeting sigh of relief escaped him upon realizing that everything seemed normal, except for the pulsations of his heart resonating in his chest like the rumbling of an internal storm.

    The tense silence was broken by Hadrian:

    "I''m truly sorry, Zain. I didn''t mean to imply that..."

    The boy cut him off sharply, not wanting to lose the necessary momentum to express what was on his heart.

    "You weren''t entirely wrong. It''s clear that my powers play a role in this strange connection that seems to bind us. I talked to Ouray about my nightmare..."

    Hadrian''s anxious gaze clung to every word, expressing his fear of the implications of this conversation.

    "He explained that it was impossible for someone to be a spectator of another person''s dream without the intervention of a spell. So, unless you deliberately set out to spy on me, we actually had the same dream at the same time."

    Hadrian stared, a profound confusion piercing his eyes. He seemed to suddenly realize a truth he was reluctant to admit, while Zain continued with growing intensity:

    "I don''t think my powers could have caused what happened in that dream. I believe it was a reflection of what we were feeling at that moment, whether it was our fears manifesting or...everything else..."

    Emotions swirled in the air between them, charging the atmosphere. Zain locked his eyes with Hadrian''s, capturing an unusual restlessness in the immortal''s look. The irises of the immortal danced, avoiding eye contact, a foreign expression on his otherwise immutable face.

    "Zain, even if it were true, it absolutely changes nothing about the reality of what I already told you." Hadrian declared.

    "I''m not sure what it means either. Actually, It doesn''t have to mean anything. I''m well aware of the obstacles surrounding us. Trust me, I''ve become quite familiar with obstacles since my arrival..." The boy admitted, visibly worn out.

    Zain felt the uncertainty hanging in the air, laden with the vastness of the questions surrounding them. Hadrian then continued with a calm voice, filled with genuine concerns:

    "You''re only nineteen, Zain. We don''t even know if you''re here for good or if you''ll have to return to the dimension you came from. There are so many things about you that we need to uncover, things even you are unaware of..."

    Zain, determined, interrupted Hadrian, waving his hand:

    "And we could spend hours listing all the reasons why what I''m about to do would be a bad idea. Yet, Hadrian, for once, it''s me who''s going to ask you to stop talking." His assured voice echoed in the room, breaking the accumulated tension.

    He advanced towards Hadrian with confidence, his face drawing closer to his. Hadrian''s eyes now sparkled with a new light, tinged with anticipation and surprise. Zain looked at him for a brief moment, a last breath of courage urging him to act. So, without hesitation, he sealed the moment by kissing him.

    Hadrian remained motionless for a few precious seconds, caught off guard by the spontaneous gesture. However, the gentle touch of Zain''s lips on his seemed like a revelation, an undeniable truth that made him return the kiss with surprising intensity, unleashing a fire unlike anything he had experienced before. As their lips intertwined, the atmosphere around them seemed to transform. The beats of their hearts resonated in harmony, creating a silent symphony that transcended time and space. Hadrian could feel the sweetness and warmth of this unique moment, as if the entire world had slowed down to let them savor each instant. Zain''s fingers slid into Hadrian''s hair, intensifying the contact. The sensation was electrifying, like a shiver running down Hadrian''s spine. Worries, doubts, everything seemed to fade away in their passionate kiss.

 Chapter 9

    In the darkness of Hadrian''s garden, night had settled, shrouding each tree in mystery. Sienna, like a shadow among the leaves, silently observed the fortress that Hadrian had erected. Possessing such a place had always haunted her ex-lover''s dreams, and the fact that he had fulfilled this wish only intensified her thirst for revenge.

    From the depths of the trees, Sienna scrutinized the moving silhouettes on the upper floor. Since awakening from her eternal slumber, she had been drawn to the energies pulsating, both positive and negative, through the scattered city. These energies guided her like an invisible map through this new town, fascinating her at every street corner. Centuries had passed since her death, and the few days spent walking the earth again had revealed countless changes. However, the most disturbing and frustrating for her was the alleviation of Hadrian''s curse. Another energy seemed to soothe him, even extinguishing it almost, thwarting her plans for him to suffer eternally.

    Sienna had not immediately grasped the extent of the time that had passed since her death. After her resurrection in the clearing, she had wandered through the woods, disoriented, searching for something or someone to help her. The enchanted woods, radiating with an unprecedented magical energy, had welcomed her. The forest was teeming with supernatural creatures she had never heard of. Some sensed her presence, while for others she was nothing more than an invisible specter, as elusive as she felt.

    In that benevolent magical enviremment, her vengeful intentions seemed out of place, and no one would lend her assistance. That''s why she left the forest in search of energies more in line with her deep beliefs, and that''s when she initiated the beginning of her plan.

    Soon, she would be material again, and nothing and no one could stop her from executing her designs.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Paris, France.

    Fleur gracefully navigated the cobblestone streets of Paris, entranced by the enchanting murmur of saxophones and accordions, carried away by the enticing wafts of cr¨ºpes and other delights that tickled her senses. Paris, the nocturnal City of Light, displayed its undeniable magic, though the weight of thoughts and apprehension intensified as she approached her father''s bar, revealed by a spell.

    The narrow streets came alive with cafes where Parisians engaged in lively discussions over glasses of red wine, creating an animated symphony. Illuminated by artistic signs, the shops infused a modern elegance into every corner. The majestic silhouette of the Eiffel Tower, sparkling with a thousand lights, promised a night steeped in romance.

    Between passionate embraces and the whispered complicity of couples, Fleur''s mind wandered to Elliot, mysteriously elusive since her arrival in France. A slight unease crept in, but casting a final glance at her engagement ring magically linked to the bracelet she had given Elliot on his first day as a police officer, the witch reassured herself. If her fianc¨¦ were in danger, her diamond would have turned red. Her current mission had to be accomplished; the rest could be addressed later.

    The cobblestones guided her to the Carolina, her father''s burlesque bar. Ironically named after her late mother. A friendly doorman opened the door to an extraordinary world, by saying : "Bonsoir mademoiselle" as she found herself transported into a realm where a glamorous and enchanting atmosphere reigned supreme.

    Inside, the Carolina unveiled its splendor. Walls draped in red velvet, sparkling chandeliers casting a soft glow, tables elegantly adorned with white tablecloths and flickering candles creating playful lights. Waiters and waitresses moved with a grace reminiscent of a bygone era, adding a theatrical touch to the ambiance.

    On the central stage, burlesque artists presented sophisticated performances. Feathers, rhinestones, graceful movements captured the gaze, transporting the clientele into a world of mystery and seduction. Curious eyes turned towards Fleur as she crossed the room.

    Fleur settled at a table, letting her sight get lost in the enchanting spectacle unfolding before her eyes. The Carolina, a true union of extravagance and art, revealed its magic in a captivating dance. Despite the splendor of the Parisian burlesque surrounding her, her mind remained haunted by the mysteries that had led her here.

    The ongoing act concluded, making way for a man with a deep voice to take the microphone. His hazel eyes, salt-and-pepper hair, and a beard sprinkled with gray prompted an instinctive reaction from Fleur. Her heart raced, urging her to head quickly to the restroom as soon as she recognized her father.

    The man, surprised to see his daughter after all these years, halted his speech, his incredulous gaze betraying his astonishment. He couldn''t believe his eyes.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Hadrian slowly opened his eyelids, a smile blooming on his lips. Stretching languidly in his sumptuous bed, he struggled to grasp the reality of the previous day. Zain had kissed him. He and Zain had shared a kiss. It was astonishing. And what a kiss! The memory of that exchange flooded him, causing his heart to race and a sudden warmth to flush his cheeks.

    Centuries of suffering, torment, fleeting adventures¡ªall lived under the tacit prohibition of getting attached to anyone, for fear of causing harm, to the point of losing the taste for existence itself. Such was Hadrian''s reality. But despite this harsh truth, this simple exchange, this moment frozen in time, seemed to reignite a glimmer of hope in him. Like a dormant feeling, awakened without him fully grasping its meaning.

    "Pull yourself together," he murmured, unaccustomed to this apparent tranquility that had enveloped him since his encounter with Zain. Despite his efforts to divert his thoughts, his mind was irresistibly drawn to this unique and indefinable moment. Hadrian found himself involuntarily smiling, all his thoughts converging toward Zain.

    The sound of the door interrupted his reverie. Hadrian got up from his bed to answer it, his persistent smile on his lips. His last visitor had been Zain, and he secretly hoped it would be him at the door again. Hadrian opened the door slowly, but his smile was instantly wiped away upon seeing Ouray''s serious face on the other side.

    "What''s going on?" Hadrian asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

    "I have news about Zain''s identity and a lead regarding Fleur''s nightmare."

    Ouray entered the room, and the atmosphere seemed charged as Hadrian impatiently awaited more information from the shaman.

    "Zain would apparently be the decipherer prince, and his powers seem to have awakened a vengeful entity whose designs coincide with Fleur''s nightmare," Ouray said, visibly agitated.

    "What? How do you know all this?"

    "I entered the realm of the dead and sought advice from the elders of my tribe. They''re the ones who revealed the decipherer prince''s name," Ouray explained, clearing his throat, the weight of his experience still palpable.

    "Then I went to the enchanted forest to follow this lead when several beings informed me about the arrival of a vengeful specter, a woman determined to find the necessary help to carry out her dark plans. I think Zain accidentally awakened her with his powers upon his arrival on Earth, much like he did with the white wolf."

    Hadrian tried to digest these newly revealed pieces of information.

    "The decipherer prince... never heard of him..."

    "Me neither. I think we should try to access the Order''s files; they have extensive documents on most existing beings..."

    Hadrian interrupted him firmly.

    "Certainly not! We must absolutely avoid them looking into Zain''s case. I don''t trust them; they might want to seize him to try and use his powers, or to study him like a lab rat."

    "We could discuss it with Darcey..."

    "No! Neither Darcey nor anyone connected to them, Ouray. Not until we know more about Zain."

    Ouray insisted, facing the unusual stoicism of his friend.

    "Hadrian, I don''t want to put Zain in any danger either, but it''s becoming crucial to find out more."

    Hadrian walked confidently to his dressing room, declaring,

    "I''ll drop Zain off on his first day at Redwaters High. Then, you and I will return to the enchanted forest together to learn more about this spirit returned from the dead."

    Ouray observed him in silence, aware that a particular nuance marked the attitude of his longtime friend, unable to pinpoint the change.

    "I put Zain in an Uber five minutes ago. Let''s head straight to the forest," Ouray told him.

    Hadrian reappeared from his dressing room, buttoning up his fitted black shirt, as he said to his friend:

    "Really? I had promised to drop him off."

    "I told him we had an urgent matter to deal with; I don''t think he''ll mind," Ouray replied.

    Hadrian couldn''t hide his disappointment; he had hoped to see the boy before he left for school. In an impulsive moment, the immortal asked Ouray: "And what outfit did he decide to go with in the end?"

    Ouray gave him an incredulous look, wondering what could be happening to his friend.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Zain''s heart was pounding in his chest, his hands were sweaty. A mix of excitement and apprehension engulfed him. What if he didn''t make any friends? What if he spent the school year all alone, like in those movies glorifying senseless cruelty that he had watched? And why hadn''t Hadrian accompanied him this morning? Did he regret their kiss? No! The boy abruptly halted his intrusive thoughts. There was no way he would let his feelings for the immortal spoil his first day at high school, nor would he allow his anxieties to prevent him from fully experiencing this new chapter. He had faced much scarier things than high school cliques, and he wouldn''t let his mood be overshadowed by his emotions, no matter what, he firmly decided. This day was for him, his first chance to feel normal, to try to integrate into something other than spells, pursuits, or murders, and he intended to make the most of it. The screeching of the tires of his Uber on the asphalt marked the beginning of his immersion into this new reality. The high school stood before him, an imposing facade displaying "REDWATERS HIGH" in red letters.

    Exiting the car, he greeted the driver with a strained smile and headed towards the entrance, his eyes capturing every detail of the school''s facade. He couldn''t believe his eyes. He was really there.

    The walls, infused with years of student stories, seemed to breathe with an unique energy. Rows of windows, like curious eyes, seemed to observe newcomers with a certain benevolence. The muffled noise of lively conversations and laughter from the parking lot added a vibrant atmosphere to the surroundings. Groups of students, exchanging warm greetings or fresh news, formed here and there. It was as if the high school had its own life, a regular yet unfamiliar pulse.

    As he passed through the glass doors, Zain was greeted by the hum of the main hall. Lockers lined up like soldiers guarding the students'' secrets. Colorful posters adorned the walls, announcing upcoming events, clubs, and opportunities to get involved in.

    Navigating the hallways, Zain felt the thrill of novelty. Curious glances were cast upon him as he navigated this uncharted labyrinth. The clicking of locker locks, the soft murmur of students discussing ¨C everything contributed to creating a symphony of excitement and discovery. The classroom doors opened and closed, releasing fragments of conversations and teachings. It was amidst that excitement that Simone''s voice, a girl with obvious charm, pierced the atmosphere.

    "Are you the new student from Europe?" she asked with sparkling curiosity, turning Zain around to face her.

    Simone, dressed in her cheerleader uniform, exuded contagious energy, her long brown hair tied in an elegant ponytail.

    A shy smile appeared on Zain''s face before he responded, a hint of apprehension in his voice : "What gave me away?"

    Simone winked at him while scanning his outfit from head to toe : "The Ralph Lauren sweater and Prada loafers. Not many people have an eye for fashion around here, and it''s rare for a student to arrive in the middle of the school year!"

    Zain offered a smile, appreciating Nina''s straightforwardness.

    "I''m Zain," he introduced himself, extending his hand.

    "Simone" she replied with a sincere smile, shaking Zain''s hand.

    "It''s nice to have some fresh blood around here. And from Europe, it''s a welcome change from the narrow mindswere used to! The only other European around town is my brother''s fianc¨¦e, and she¡¯s only half."

    Zain looked surprised :

    "You''re Elliott''s sister?"

    "You know him?" Simone asked, surprised by the connection.

    "I''m a friend of Fleur. I''ve only met Elliott once," explained Zain.

    "The world is really small! Welcome to Redwaters, Zain! Follow me; I''ll introduce you to some people. We have an assembly on the rugby field before the start of practice. There''s a big game on Friday!" she declared, pulling him by the arm toward the exit.

    Zain went along, excited about this new encounter, even if the prospect of watching sports training didn''t particularly appeal to him.

    Their footsteps echoed in the hallway as they headed towards the rugby field. Simone, while sharing some anecdotes about the students they passed, tried to dispel the last traces of apprehension on Zain''s face.

    "You''ll see, watching practice is fun, and the atmosphere during the Game is electrifying. Plus, the players are HOT!" she added with a conspiratorial smile.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Paris, France

    In the subdued intimacy of Carolina''s restroom, Fleur splashed her face with cool water, attempting to soothe the waves of nausea tormenting her. Was it merely the sight of her father that plunged her into this unwell state? Or was it the fear of confronting the demons of the past, finally unearthing the buried secrets regarding her mother''s death? These uncertainties haunted the witch''s mind. The nausea and dizziness, present for several days, seemed to be aftermaths of that violent collision at the manor. Upon her return to Redwaters, she vowed to consult a doctor to assess the extent of the damage.

    Observing her own reflection in the mirror, Fleur felt as though she were traveling back in time, delving into the intricacies of her childhood. The death of her mother, the abandonment by her father, the challenges she had to overcome as a young witch, her complex relationship with her grandmother ¨C everything unfolded before her eyes in these restroom¡¯s surroundings, evoking the cozy ambiance of a boudoir.

    Taking a deep breath, Fleur exited the room to find herself face to face with her father. He had followed her, patiently waiting to address her from the shadow of the door.

    Their eyes met, and Fleur, feeling stunned, gazed at the man reappearing in her life after so many years. Though the thrill of childhood excitement was now extinguished, all she desired from this man turned stranger were answers.

    "Fleur..." he murmured, visibly taken aback to see her before him.

    The young woman remained silent, unable to utter a single word.

    "Shall we sit, dear? We have much to talk about," Richard suggested with an awkward smile. He walked ahead of her, and Fleur stood still for a moment before deciding to follow him toward the main room of the Carolina.

    A few moments later, Richard and Fleur settled at a discreet table, away from the clamor of successive burlesque performances

    Silent, Richard observed Fleur, a palpable emotion on his face, while Fleur nervously toyed with her rings.

    "You resemble her so much, your mother. And that tic, playing with your jewelry..." he began with a warmly tinted smile.

    Fleur cut him off abruptly, evidently frustrated :

    "Stop. I''m not here to relive a Christmas movie scene. I''ve moved on. I want to know what truly happened with Mom, what happened to her. I don''t have time to beat around the bush; I have a flight to catch in an hour."

    Fleur''s gaze held her father''s intensely. The man who had been her hero in the early years of her life was now a stranger, a key to finding peace through answers. She expected nothing more from him; no words could erase the harm he had caused her.

    "Fleur, I''m sorry..." he attempted.

    "Sorry for what, exactly, for killing Mom?" she asked, a challenge in her eyes, seeking confirmation.

    Her father''s face tightened, caught off guard before responding in a hesitant voice :"Kill Carolina? No, I could never harm her; I loved her, I will always love her. You have to believe me, Fleur."

    "Believe you? My mother taught me not to trust strangers, so it stings a bit."

    "Fleur, I understand your reaction, and I deserve much worse. I''ve been a father... I don''t even know if I can be considered a parent at all." Richard lowered his eyes, ashamed, before continuing : "A bad father, a bad husband, a man with... questionable morals, all that, i am. But I would never harm Carolina."

    "But you do know what happened to her, don''t you ? "

    The tension hung in the air as Fleur fixed her father with an inquisitive gaze. Richard''s eyes met hers, as if he were about to unburden his conscience. It was the moment, his chance to reveal the truth and face the consequences.

    "Yes, I know what happened to her," he admitted, and Fleur''s heart tightened in her chest. The moment had finally come. Richard continued, and a growing apprehension filled Fleur.

    "Do you know that I reacted poorly when I learned that your mother was a witch?" he asked in an almost timid tone, tinged with shame.

    "Yes," the witch replied, her own lies to Eliott about her identity haunting her more than ever.

    "What you need to know, are the reasons for my reaction. I didn''t learn the news from your mother, but from one of her friends. One of her friends with whom I had an affair," he confessed, lowering his gaze, visibly burdened by his actions.

    "The details of your mistakes with Mom are none of my business. I wasn''t fooled even as a child; I knew you were trying to reinforce French stereotypes by wandering around!" she retorted, frustrated, adding a disdainful gesture.

    "Yet, it''s those details that caused what happened to Carolina. I never liked that woman who was her friend; it was only a one-time thing, at least to me. She did everything to make me leave your mother, but for me, it was impossible. I loved Carolina with all my heart..."

    "And you had such a common way of showing it!" she added despite herself, raising an eyebrow with irony.

    Richard lowered his eyes yet again before resuming, determined to reveal everything, no matter what she would think of him.

    "That woman confessed to me that she was a witch, that your mother and grandmother were too, to make me believe that Carolina was manipulating my feelings for her. But for me, it was just an opportunity to deflect from my guilt. I could finally blame magic, instead of admitting that I had ruined everything with your mother through my actions..."

    "That woman was also a witch?" Fleur asked, surprised, with a hint of intrigue.

    "Yes... When I confronted your mother, she created a magic-free zone¡­ and once there, in a place where no supernatural charm survives, I realized that my actions towards your mother, my feelings, and my mistakes with that other woman were mine alone. No one had enchanted me..."

    "But what does Mom''s death have to do with all this?"

    "The other woman didn''t want to give up. She claimed to love me, wanted me to leave your mother at all costs. Everything changed when she told me that she became pregnant, almost at the same time your mother was pregnant with you..."

    "Wow, what a gentleman!" Fleur ironized, shaking her head in disbelief.

    "At first, she made me believe that she took care of it, that she had terminated the pregnancy, but I later learned that she lied. She had the child, a daughter."

    "What?!" Fleur exclaimed, wide-eyed. "You mean¡­ I have a sister?!"

    "When you came into the world, nothing else mattered to me. The first years of your life were the happiest for your mother and i," Richard looked at her with tenderness, moved to delve into his memories. "But the other woman wanted to put an end to it. That''s why I started distancing myself, leaving Redwaters intermittently, and being tense with your mother. That woman wanted me to meet her child, which I had always refused, and when she became insistent, threatening, I left the town."

    "Meaning you not only abandoned your wife and daughter but also your mistress and the child you always refused to see?" Fleur asked, shocked by his behavior, crossing her arms with a disapproving pout.

    "Yes," he admitted reluctantly. "I went back to France, took a step back. And a few years later, I decided to set things right, to meet my other child, and to find a compromise with that woman, to return to my life with you and your mother..."

    "And what happened?"

    "The night of my return, I went to see her, met my daughter, everything was going well... I planned to join your mother in our woods later, reveal the whole truth to her, as she had done with her powers, and confess that I had never loved anyone like her, that I was back for good, if she would have me."

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    "I heard about the message you sent her; that''s what led her to her grave."

    "I know," he said, tears welling up in his eyes. "The last thing I remember is having dinner with that woman and my daughter. Before I could join Carolina, I lost consciousness, and when I woke up, the news of her death was already everywhere."

    "Do you think your mistress could have seen the message to Mom, communicated the information of her presence that night in the magic-free zone, and prevented you from going?"

    "She admitted it. She wanted me all to herself. And her ex-boyfriend was new in the police force, Lieutenant Tucker. He had an aversion to..."

    "To supernatural creatures."

    "Yes, she made a deal with him; he left her and her witch sisters alone if she delivered Carolina on a platter." Richard finished his story, letting the magnitude of the tragedy settle in the ensuing silence.

    "Witch sisters?!" Fleur asked, somewhat coming out of her stupor.

    "What''s this woman''s name?"

    "Marsha." her father revealed.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Marsha sat in the darkness of her industrial loft, nestled at the rear of The Abundance Bookstore. Only a few days had passed since she had kept Fleur captive in the lower section of the loft. Her gaze wandered into the void, a cold gleam shining in her eyes. The unsuccessful attempt to seize Fleur''s blood haunted her, the cunning redhead had skillfully escaped her designs. Nevertheless, Marsha remained convinced that her sinister plans would materialize despite this setback.

    Jealousy had gnawed at Marsha for a long time, directed not only towards Carolina but also towards Fleur. Richard, the object of her affection, seemed to harbor an excessive love for these women, far more than he would ever feel for her or their daughter, Rose. But it was power that aroused the most envy in her, an inherited force flowing through the veins of the descendants of the first witch to tread these lands.

    A power she could never match.

    Fleur, Carolina, Darcey, and all those who came before them were descendant witches, directly from the lineage of the first witch who had saturated the Redwaters lands with magic¡ªa magic born of murder and the massacre that followed in her wake. Marsha perceived their heritage as an undeserved grace.

    The ultimate source of their power was Sienna, a mythical witch whose reputation tormented Marsha''s thoughts. For her, Sienna was elevated to the status of a deity. When the opportunity to meet her and avenge her tragic fate presented itself, Marsha had no choice but to submit. This quest had given new purpose to her existence, even if it meant plunging into ever-deeper darkness.

    Sienna, once imprisoned in limbo, had miraculously been brought back to life by an elusive and unknown magic, a force that defied the known laws of their world. The witch, once a lost soul, had been found by Marsha during a spell, a discovery that bound them in a mystical alliance.

    The Willards, guardians of the ancestral power, were vulnerable for the first time.

    Unexpectedly, the first witch had turned to her for help, leaving aside her own descendants. Overwhelmed by a mix of fascination and exaltation, Marsha suddenly felt invested with unique importance, as if her role in this convergence of occult powers finally set her apart.

    Complex feelings reflected in Marsha''s eyes¡ªa fusion of satisfaction, desire for revenge, and an anticipatory thrill in the face of the unknown. Her expressions betrayed intertwined emotions, oscillating between confidence in the imminent success of their plan and apprehension about the magnitude of the forces they were maneuvering.

    Once her plan was set in motion, Marsha knew that an irreversible change would occur. Nothing and no one could stand against their ascension. Their paths were now intertwined in a destiny forged by centuries of magic and conspiracy.

    From the corner of the room, the spectral apparition of Sienna materialized. Her ghost, clad in a long blood-stained burlap robe, advanced resolutely towards Marsha. Her emerald eyes, glowing with an ethereal light, fixed on her, while a purple halo enveloped her silhouette.

    Marsha welcomed the specter with a smile, a spark of anticipation gleaming in her eyes.

    Sienna''s expressions, though devoid of life, seemed to convey a muted joy at the unfolding events.

    "Everything is progressing splendidly; by tonight, you will be material once again" Marsha whispered, her voice vibrant with confidence. She exuded an aura of satisfaction, the feeling of having reached a climax in their sinister enterprise.

    A smile appeared for the first time on Sienna''s spectral face since her return from the realm of the dead. A smile filled with palpable impatience, an eagerness to reclaim the lands she had once tread and commence her work of vengeance.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    The sunny afternoon flooded Redwaters High with warm light, and the red-and-white rugby team flags waved gently in the breeze. Excitement was palpable, carried by the passionate roars of players echoing in the air.

    Simone, always full of energy and impulsiveness, pulled Zain towards the training ground bleachers. Zain, observing the team practice with mixed conviction, subtly revealed his aversion to sports through nuanced expressions.

    Beside him, three identical-looking blond young girls were seated. Simone introduced them to Zain with contagious enthusiasm.

    "Meet Saffire, Emerald, and Diamond, the triplets. They''re on the cheerleading squad with me! Girls, meet Zain. He''s from Europe."

    The three blondes turned towards him, their gazes seemingly captivated, and smiled then said in unison : "Oh!"

    The three sisters, seemingly identical at first glance, differentiated themselves through their hairstyles. Saffire had loose hair, Emerald sported pigtails, and Diamond had a ponytail similar to Simonne''s.

    "Too cute," Diamond exclaimed, looking at Zain with a smirk.

    "And stylish too," added Emerald, scanning the boy''s outfit.

    "Too cute and stylish to be straight," Saffire remarked, a disappointed look in her eyes.

    Zain looked at them without saying a word, fascinated by the synergy between the sisters, resembling blonde clones. Their interactions were interrupted by the harsh sounds of players'' shouts, tackling impacts, and the coach''s rhythmic applause. Zain couldn''t help but grimace; there was enough violence in his daily life to appreciate this sport, despite the players'' provocative outfits.

    Suddenly, Simone and the triplets were called by the coach, a visibly authoritative and grumpy man, to join the cheerleading squad.

    "I''ll be back in a bit," Simone promised Zain before moving away with the triplets towards the cheerleading group, ready to entertain the crowd.

    As the rugby team continued their training, Zain found himself involuntarily absorbed by the electric atmosphere. The cheers from other students and the camaraderie among players seemed to transcend the boundaries of his prejudices.

    In the distance, music resonated, and Zain saw Simone and the cheerleaders unfold in a dazzling choreography. He couldn''t help but smile as he watched them, gradually feeling integrated into the dynamic world of Redwaters High. Simone stood out in the center of the choreography, capturing all eyes. The girls, in their uniforms, joyfully moving to the rhythm of the upbeat music¡ªthis was what he would have liked to do.

    As the training kept going, Zain shifted his attention to the rugby team.

    The players, although attractive, seemed pale in comparison to Hadrian, whose memory haunted Zain''s mind. Their kiss lingered in his mind, but he had resolved to focus on this day and this day only. Collecting himself, he plunged back into the game. Observing the players closely, a strange familiarity invaded him. This foreign sport evoked memories of a previous world. Passes, attacks, marking attempts seemed to unveil a kind of magical map on the field. Despite his professed disinterest in sports, Zain discerned missed opportunities, tactics to avoid, and poorly positioned players, as if he intrinsically understood how to lead them to victory. It was surreal, and he wondered where this useless knowledge came from.

    A few minutes passed before Simone returned to him, breathless from her performance.

    "So, did you like it?" she asked him.

    "Yes, you were amazing!" he replied sincerely.

    A smile lit up the girl''s face :

    "And what about the rugby team?" Nina inquired.

    "Are they new?" Zain asked, unimpressed by the players'' level.

    "Can you tell? Yes, we lost many of our elite players last year due to an accident¡­ The coach did his best to replace them, but it doesn''t look like much," she reluctantly admitted.

    "We have a similar sport where I come from, it¡¯s new, very few people know about it... I think I could give the team some tips to improve." Zain declared, sparked by curiosity.

    Nina, brimming with enthusiasm, suggested :"Would you like to join the team?" Zain declined, saying : "No ! not for anything in the world! But I''d love to join you guys." He admitted it shyly.

    Nina, looking surprised, asked : "You mean the cheerleading squad?"

    Zain nodded, unsure of her reaction. Nina smiled while thinking and then told him : "We''ve never had boys on the squad¡ªthe players and the cheerleaders would¡¯nt mind, i''m sure, but the coach might be difficult to convince. He''s quite old-school."

    Disappointment showed on Zain''s face, while Simone''s suddenly lit up with an idea.

    "Unless... are you sure your advice could help the team improve?" she asked mischievously.

    Zain raised his head and replied confidently : "Certain."

    Simone, with a determined smile, pulled Zain by the arm towards the coach, with a purposeful stride. The electric atmosphere of the field seemed to intensify as they approached Coach Anderson''s frowning face, his cap firmly on his bald head.

    "Coach, I have someone here who thinks he can lend a hand to the team. Zain, meet Coach Anderson. Coach, this is Zain; he''s from Europe and has a different perspective on rugby." explained Simone enthusiastically, introducing Zain to the coach.

    The coach''s scrutinizing eyes settled on Zain, examining him with intrigue.

    "Did you come to teach me how to do my job?" he asked in an hostile tone. Zain felt caught off guard, searching for words to counter this undesirable first impression.

    "If you want to join my team, go through the tryouts like everyone else, but don''t come here and tell me how to coach my players," he added, looking annoyed.

    A disappointed look was exchanged between Zain and Simone as the coach, ignoring their presence, whistled towards the players, already turning towards the field.

    Refusing to be intimidated, Zain positioned himself beside the coach and spoke up.

    "Players 3, 8, and 12 are poorly positioned on the field. The strategy is predictable and unsuitable for the strengths and weaknesses of your players. These repeated infractions I''ve seen in just a few minutes of training, if replicated in a game, would allow the opponents to score an incalculable number of points."

    The coach, astonished by this rapid assessment, turned to Zain, while Simone, a fascinated spectator, smirked.

    "And you saw all that in just few minutes of training?" he asked, surprised.

    "I''ve seen much more than that, and I think I have effective solutions to help you win your next game" Zain replied confidently.

    The coach, visibly impressed and delighted at the prospect of a potential victory, looked at him attentively.

    "What do you want, kid? My job?" he asked, trying to understand Zain''s motives.

    "Far from it, I''d like to join the team... the cheerleading team," Zain declared, seeking to divert attention to a lighter goal. The coach stared at him, clearly taken aback.

    "If the girls and the players are okay with it, I don''t see any problem. No skirts, no crop tops !" he decreed, stating his conditions with a hint of skepticism.

    "Crop tops, but high-waisted pants," Zain negotiated, determined to impose his style.

    "Okay. And you help me after the training; so we can get this team back on track." the coach concluded, suddenly adopting a pragmatic approach.

    Zain and Simone exchanged an astonished look, their smiles growing, while the coach, without looking at them, uttered without revealing his inner enthusiasm:

    "Welcome to the team, kid."

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Hadrian parked his jeep near the fences and signs marking the entrance to the enchanted forest. Ouray and the immortal disembarked, advancing with restrained eagerness towards the spot where the barbed wire was torn, leaning and contorting to access the magical place. The lush forest seemed to have resurrected itself after Tucker and his group of assassin¡¯s passing. Despite the horror of the massacre he had committed, Hadrian couldn''t help but feel relieved at the return to normalcy for the hundreds of supernatural beings no longer under threat.

    As the two men ventured into the dense vegetation, Ouray broke the silence with a question laden with concern: "How are you?"

    "Fine. Better," the immorta replied l, his gaze lost in the persistent greenery.

    "You seem even more silent than usual."

    "I admit, I''ve been lost in my thoughts a quite a lot lately."

    "Because of Zain?" Ouray pressed, his curiosity palpable.

    Hadrian gave him a tense look before responding in a grave voice : "Yes... With everything that''s going on, we really need to learn more about him..."

    Ouray didn''t let up, continuing with subtlety : "That''s not exactly what I meant."

    Hadrian stopped, his eyes meeting Ouray''s, before stating : "What exactly are you implying?"

    "Hadrian, when you left earlier, you asked me quite seriously what Zain had decided to wear for high school. I believe what I''m insinuating is not very difficult to grasp..."

    A brief, heavy silence settled before Hadrian responded with surprising honesty :"What do you want me to say? Yes, he unsettles me. Yes, I like him a lot, something that hasn''t happened to me in a very long time, whether for a woman or a man... And yes, feeling all these things is...have i said unsettling already?"

    Ouray flashed a smile, releasing the tension between them : "Finally, a normal conversation between us! Hadrian, in nearly five hundred years by your side, we''ve experienced countless adventures, disasters, losses. And for once that something positive seems to be happening to you, I''d like us to discuss it too. Not only the horrors that haunt our eternal lives. These things are also what friendship is about."

    The shaman concluded his words as they ventured deeper through the forest. Hadrian took a moment to absorb his friend''s words, then smiled, surprising himself : "Alright. I''ll try to be more expressive about my... positive feelings." That thought instantly brought him back to one of his early conversations with Zain about trust. The boy would surely be proud of this progress, Hadrian thought, excited about the prospect of more open and sincere bond with his longtime friend.

    "He''s special, that boy," Hadrian remarked, plunging back into his thoughts about Zain.

    "Definitely," Ouray replied, visibly pleased to see Hadrian more at ease.

    On their way, various magical beings greeted them. Blue fairies floated gracefully a few inches above the ground, young spirits ran joyfully, and even three ram-headed demons were vigorously training against tree trunks. Hadrian, now more attentive, asked Ouray suspiciously, having not had the chance to do so earlier : "Ouray, are we going where I think we''re going?"

    "Yes. The trees are the only witnesses to the appearance of that vengeful spirit; they will know more."

    Hadrian adjusted his shirt with a skeptical look, suddenly regretting not opting for something more comfortable. The two men passed through a curtain of suspended autumn leaves, revealing a hidden part of the forest. The duo found themselves enveloped in a peculiar atmosphere, illuminated by a bluish glow, surrounded by four towering trees, each adorned with a carved face at its center.

    An enchanting ambiance emanated from the gazes etched into the wood. Hadrian addressed them : "We come seeking your help. We are looking for information about a spirit with vengeful intentions that appeared a few days ago."

    The murmurs of the trees intensified, as if they were plotting among themselves. Then, the trunk in front of them spoke with a voice defying reality : "You know how it works, immortal. We do not give information for free; it must be earned."

    Ouray cast a sorry look at Hadrian, who, reluctantly, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

    The trunk, wearing an impassive expression, suddenly seemed to smirk. Ouray withdrew a few meters away, leaving Hadrian surrounded by the trees. A heavy silence settled, then suddenly, each tree released a wooden silhouette.

    Their arms, made up of multiple branches, all converged toward Hadrian in a coordinated attack.

    The immortal, agile and determined, was assailed by blows, struck in multiple places by the wooden creatures. He fell to the ground, trying to dodge the attacks, seeking an opportunity to counter them. A breach in the trees'' defense appeared, and Hadrian managed to slip through it. With a fluid motion, he delivered rapid blows to the wooden creatures.

    Performing a backward roll, Hadrian gracefully rose to his feet. His tousled hair and torn shirt adding to his wild appearance. With a lateral kick, he sent the first creature flying. Skillfully evading the branches of the second, he knocked it down with another lateral kick, then delivered a punch to the third, making it fall in turn. As each creature touched the ground, it transformed into smoke, absorbed by the surrounding trunks.

    Now facing the last creature, Hadrian challenged it with determination. The battle reached its climax as the creature lunged at him, striking his face with all its branches, scraping his resilient skin.

    Although battered, Hadrian abruptly broke the branches of the wooden creature with both his arms, tearing his shirt once and for all, revealing his prominent muscles beneath the shredded fabric.

    The last creature turned into smoke, dissipated by Hadrian''s victory. Out of breath, he regained his composure, and the forest suddenly returned to its tranquility.

    Ouray stepped forward, satisfied, and addressed the trees:

    "Give us the answers we seek!" The main trunk, seemingly pleased with Hadrian''s success in the test, revealed the answer to their quest.

    "A new magic has entered this universe, infusing our soil, reviving the dead. This returning spirit seeks vengeance, vengeance upon you, immortal!"

    Stunned, Hadrian asked :

    "Why me?"

    The tree finally revealed : "She wants to regain her life, regain human form, bring back her sisters from the dead, and see you suffer for their losses!"

    With a heavy heart, Hadrian whispered Sienna''s name, realizing the complexity of the impending situation, under the sorrowful gaze of Ouray.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Sitting on the plane, Fleur reflected on her meeting with her father a few hours earlier, as the outlines of the city of Redwaters began to emerge through the window. Despite the whirlwind of emotions this experience had stirred within her, a prevailing sense of relief took hold. She had finally obtained the answers she had been seeking for so long.

    When she questioned her father about the reason he never implicated Marsha in Carolina''s death, he revealed that he didn''t want another one of his daughters to grow up without her mother, referring to Rose, the sister she had met a few days earlier at the Abudance bookstore, without realizing they were related. The more her heart tightened at the thought of her father, the more her love for Elliott grew.

    Fleur felt grateful that fate had placed such a loving, unwaveringly present man on her path. She was now convinced: once she was in Redwaters, she would confess everything about her identity to him, certain that he would not judge her. Unprecedented courage fueled her. She had defied all stereotypes to find this stable, supportive, loving man, and it was about time she trusted him as much as he deserved.

    She had finally managed to reach Elliott, who explained that the sheriff''s death ongoing investigation was consuming all his time and had made him less available than usual, which she completely understood. However, he assured her that he would pick her up from the airport as planned. The mere thought of seeing him, holding him close, comforted her heart, which was wounded by her father''s revelations, a man she now had no desire to ever see again.

    Issues relating to Marsha, the news of her newfound sister, and all other concerns, Fleur would deal with them later. For now, only Elliott''s arms mattered, and she had never been more certain that she wanted to spend her life by his side.

    The minutes following Fleur''s plane landing were filled with various scenarios playing out in her mind. She imagined different ways she could reveal to Elliott that she was a witch, all while unveiling the true story about her mother and anticipating the support he would provide. For once, apprehension had left her, and she felt like she was finally holding the keys to her salvation, bringing her inner peace and even somewhat dispelling the dizziness and nausea that had persisted for several days.

    Her sense of tranquility increased when she saw the love of her life waiting for her in the parking lot with a broad smile. Fleur rushed towards Elliott, who enveloped her in his arms, filling her with happiness.

    Seated in Elliott''s car, the witch, sensing something strange in her fianc¨¦''s demeanor, asked him with concern : "Sweetheart, what''s happening? You seem off."

    Elliott, hands firmly on the wheel, gaze lost on the road, replied with an unconvincing voice : "Nothing, just tired from work."

    Perplexed, Fleur scrutinized him before grabbing a strawberry-scented water bottle from the dashboard, taking a long sip.

    "I''m so glad to be back. We have a lot to talk about, you and I..." she confided, placing the bottle back.

    A tension seized Elliott''s face, which Fleur immediately noticed.

    "Elliott, I can see that something is wrong. Tell me what''s going on," she asked.

    "I think it''s rather you who should tell me what''s going on, Fleur. It seems you''ve been unable to do so until now!" he exclaimed, expressing his anger, while the witch began to feel a shiver run through her body, followed by a powerful dizziness.

    Her mind was foggy, as was her vision. Something was happening to her without her being able to understand what. Fleur stared at the bottle she had just drank from, casting a worried glance at Elliott as she asked, her eyes slowly closing in a desperate struggle to keep them open:

    "What have you done?"

    "I''m just trying to find out the truth," he replied as she drifted into unconsciousness.

    Fleur opened her eyes, the stabbing pain in her stomach pulling her out of unconsciousness. Still disoriented, she was still in Elliott''s car. Bent over in pain, one hand on her stomach, she struggled out of the vehicle. Outside, Elliott was waiting.

    "Elliott, what''s happening?" inquired Fleur, glancing around quickly. They were in the woods adjacent to her childhood home, where her mother had lost her life, in the area devoid of magic.

    "I needed to talk to you somewhere where magic wouldn''t have an effect, to hear the truth," Elliott explained, visibly unsettled by the events.

    A new wave of pain assaulted Fleur, threatening to make her stagger. She questioned Elliott, shaken by the situation :"But what have you done to me?"

    "I just put a strong dose of sleeping pill in the bottle, to make sure we arrived here without you using magic. I know everything, Fleur. I found your file in Tucker''s office, and I also know about this," he said, taking out from his pocket the bracelet she had gifted him. "I know you were manipulating me with this bracelet."

    "Manipulating you? This bracelet is linked to my engagement ring. I gave it to you so I could come to your aid if you were ever in danger on the field."

    "Stop lying to me, Fleur! Marsha told me everything, I know about Tucker''s disappearance, about Hadrian, I know it all!"

    "Marsha?!" Fleur exclaimed, astonished. "Marsha and Tucker are the ones who murdered my mother. Tucker spent the last years of his life eliminating all supernatural beings in Redwaters, peaceful and defenseless creatures! That''s why he had files on us, to massacre us! And you, you chose to believe her over me?" she raged. Fleur couldn''t bring herself to think that Elliott would act that way; her whole world was crumbling before her eyes.

    Staring into Elliott''s eyes, she added with determination: "I didn''t tell you I was a witch, that''s true, but I never manipulated you. That''s why we''re here, right? So you can be sure. Look inside yourself; if I had cast even a single spell on you, this magic-free zone would have lifted it already."

    Elliott was stunned. All these revelations had upheaved his life, his beliefs, but Fleur was telling the truth. Nothing in his feelings for the young woman had been altered by entering the zone. She had never used magic on him.

    "I don''t know what to believe anymore, Fleur. I..." Elliott admitted, tears in his eyes, as the witch was once again subjected to a violent cramp that twisted her in pain.

    Elliott rushed to her, seeing her growing distress, and said: "Let''s leave this place; it seems to be affecting you...".

    Elliott tightened his embrace around Fleur, carefully guiding her towards the car. The passenger door creaked open, as he gestured for her to get in. A hint of anticipation lingered in the air, but their departure was abruptly interrupted by a sinister voice behind them : "Not so fast!"

    The two lovers turned, facing Marsha, who had joined the scene. The steel of Elliott''s gun gleamed between them, a statement of assurance:

    "Magic doesn''t work here! I know you lied to me; I know you killed Fleur''s mother."

    A demonic laughter erupted from Marsha''s lips, her arrogance permeating each word : "It wasn''t that difficult to convince you that she was manipulating you, Elliott, and to persuade you to bring her here. Your bond must not have been as strong as you thought, Fleur."

    Fleur, doubled over in pain, let out tears. Despite her inhumanity, Marsha had struck a sensitive chord.

    "You will pay for my mother, for everything you''ve made me endure!" she declared with poignant firmness, lifting her face to confront Marsha.

    The latter''s tone remained icy: "Unfortunately, that''s not why we''re here today."

    Suddenly, the specter of Sienna materialized, bathed in the purple aura that had emanated from Zain and brought her back to life, infused with his foreign power to their world, capable of transcending the magic nullification on these lands.

    Elliott startled, pointed his gun at her. A gesture from the specter sent the weapon flying meters away. Elliott clasped Fleur against him, transfixed by the spectacle.

    "Who are you?" Fleur asked Sienna, lost in total incomprehension.

    Sienna gave her a look filled with sadness before approaching, grabbing her arm, and incanting while locking eyes with her : "Possidere!"

    Sienna disappeared, her spirit infiltrating Fleur''s body.

    Fleur abruptly moved away from Elliott before collapsing to the ground.

    "Fleur!" he exclaimed, panicked, as Fleur convulsed, her eyes shimmering with a purple glow, similar to the halo enveloping Sienna. She struggled, experiencing electric-like shocks, excruciating pain tormenting her.

    Suddenly, Sienna''s specter was expelled from Fleur''s body, reappearing before them as the red-haired witch let out such a piercing scream that the trees shuddered.

    Elliott rushed to Fleur, while Marsha, incredulous, asked Sienna :"What went wrong ?What just happened?"

    "I can''t possess her body, you fool. She''s pregnant!" Sienna retorted.

    "Her baby is a magical being, and this barrier must be killing it. That''s probably why she''s writhing in pain. We''ll try again in a few minutes," reassured the brunette witch.

    Sienna casted a regretful glance towards Fleur and Elliott, then turned to Marsha and declared, visibly disgusted by the malevolent witch''s words: "You''re truly an abominable and sick woman. You killed her mother, and now you want to kill her child?"

    Caught off guard by this reaction, Marsha was powerless against Sienna''s sudden attack. Before she could make a single gesture, Sienna seized her arm and intoned the incantation : "Possidere!"

    In an instant, Sienna disappeared, her essence merging with Marsha''s body. The brunette witch writhed in pain, her eyes, just like Fleur''s before, changing color intermittently until permanently adopting a purple glow.

    After a few seconds of agony, the possession came to an end. Sienna was finally incarnated.

    The witch, amazed, turned to Elliott, who was embracing Fleur on the ground, and told him:

    "Take her away from here quickly ! Get her help!"

    Elliott obeyed, carrying Fleur, almost unconscious, to the back seat of the car. He settled behind the wheel, and sped away, leaving Sienna, now inhabiting Marsha''s body, alone in the woods.

    Sienna contemplated her new body, caressing her new skin. She could feel again, breathe again, and was ready to exact her revenge.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Zain, accompanied by Simonne and the triplets, walked through the glass doors of Redwaters High towards the parking lot. The atmosphere was filled with joyful laughter, a reminder of this exceptional day engraved in the boy''s heart. His gamble was a success; no supernatural phenomenon had disrupted this moment, and Zain felt a deep sense of gratitude for it.

    A glint of excitement lit up Zain''s eyes as he spotted Hadrian''s jeep waiting for him in the parking lot, with the immortal behind the wheel. His heart raced as he approached, evident joy coloring his cheeks.

    The triplets bid him farewell in unison, while Simone, noticing Hadrian and the radiant smile on Zain''s face, gave him a conspiratorial wink before heading towards her own car.

    Zain quickly opened the door and climbed into the jeep.

    "You came to pick me up!" he exclaimed, visibly thrilled by this perfect conclusion to an already pleasant day.

    "I couldn''t accompany you this morning, so it was the least I could do," Hadrian replied, happy to be reunited with the young man. However, despite this apparent joviality, a shadow seemed to cast over his mind and heart.

    Hadrian locked eyes with Zain, an intense glint of desire animating his gaze. An irresistible impulse drove him to close the gap immediately, sealing their budding connection with a passionate kiss. Initially surprised by his boldness, Zain quickly surrendered to the emotional surge that followed. Each contact of their lips conveyed exquisite tenderness; the fervor of the kiss ignited their senses, a devouring fire that consumed all restraint.

    Each press of Hadrian''s lips against his resonated like an intoxicating rythme, and every inch of their bodies responded with ecstasy to this intimate touch. Waves of pleasure coursed through Zain''s body, each sensation awakening a deep resonance within him. Bursts of fireworks seemed to come alive inside him, turning into a symphony of indescribable pleasures. In this torrid exchange, he momentarily forgot his identity and surroundings, letting himself be overwhelmed by the sensual fusion of their lips, hoping that this moment would never end.

    Hadrian slowly ended their embrace, looked at Zain while pulling away, a mix of emotions swirling in his crystal-clear eyes.

    "I needed this... before telling you... what comes next."

    Hadrian let a moment of suspense linger, observing Zain''s reaction.

    Zain''s heart tightened in his chest, a growing apprehension taking hold of his thoughts: "Tell me what? What''s going on?!" he asked with palpable anxiety.

    Hadrian, his eyes filled with profound sincerity, responded solemnly:

    "You have the right to learn what happened before deciding if you want us to continue¡­ this... together... I owe you the truth about my curse, about who I really am."

 Chapter 10

    Ouray rushed with poignant frenzy towards Redwaters Hospital, his face reflecting profound distress. The electric doors swung open as two men exited, casting perplexed glances at his evident turmoil. Corridors buzzed with patients on stretchers, propelled by hurried nurses, doctors pacing with their notepads, while families and friends anxiously awaited news of their loved ones.

    Ouray''s heart resonated like a drum, the frantic rhythm of his worry echoing in the tumult of the hospital. Finally, he spotted Elliott, seated on a chair against the corridor wall, illuminated by harsh neon lights, his face hidden between his hands. Ouray hastened towards him, launching a pressing question:

    "Where is she? What happened?"

    Elliott finally lifted his eyes, tears staining the path of his suffering since the tragic event in the woods with Fleur.

    "The doctors took her; they''re trying to stabilize her, but they don''t know what''s wrong..."

    Impatience tinged Ouray''s voice. Fleur was like a daughter to him, his family, and the idea of her in the hospital was unbearable, especially with the unknown details of her condition.

    "It''s my fault," Elliott confessed, Ouray''s stern gaze weighing heavily on him. "I found out she was a witch; I thought she was manipulating me... Marsha told me to take her to the magic-free zone to be sure. But once there, Marsha arrived with some kind of phantom woman who tried to possess Fleur''s body."

    "What?!" Ouray exclaimed, horrified.

    "But she failed. The possession didn''t work because it seems Fleur is pregnant..." Elliott''s sobs erupted, tormented by causing harm to the woman he loved most, now carrying their first child. Despite the overwhelming emotion, Elliott continued, "That phantom woman eventually possessed Marsha''s body instead and allowed me to take Fleur to the hospital... The magic-free zone seemed to be affecting the baby, causing her excruciating pain. I brought her here unconscious; the doctors are doing their best, but... I don''t know what''s happening to her." And he collapsed into tears once again.

    Ouray felt anger boiling within him, but he understood it wasn''t the opportune moment for reproaches or sermons. He pulled his phone from his pocket with a decisive gesture and dialed Hadrian''s number, casting a dark glance at the burdened Elliott.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    The city lights twinkled in the distance as Hadrian drove, and Zain, sitting in the passenger seat of the jeep, broke the heavy silence.

    "Did you turn it off?" he asked with insistence.

    Hadrian, focused on the road, raised his phone as silent proof of its shutdown:

    "There, it''s done. But I still don''t understand where I''m supposed to be driving."

    A suspended moment of silence, then Zain, with a mischievous smile, threw out the idea:

    "You want to tell me about the origin of your curse, have an open-hearted conversation, take a deep dive into your past? There''s nothing stopping us from having a good time while doing it!"

    Intrigued by this proposition, Hadrian replied : "What do you have in mind?"

    "Take me anywhere where no one will give me a second glance when I order a glass of champagne! So, Creek¡¯s is off the table for sure!"

    Hadrian smiled at Zain''s audacity while objecting : "You''re only nineteen!"

    Confidently, Zain retorted :

    "Hadrian, the Zain attending Redwaters High is from Europe, and alcohol is allowed at eighteen there, so relax a bit! And considering the conversation we''re about to have, a drink wouldn''t hurt you either."

    Encouraged by this perspective, Hadrian nodded.

    "I think i know a place... But I''m not sure turning off our phones is the best idea."

    Zain fixed Hadrian with confidence :

    "Fleur must be exhausted from her trip, peacefully at home with Elliott, and Ouray probably engrossed in a book in the library. No one will even notice that we''ve left."

    Hadrian guided the jeep through the streets, leaving the glittering city behind them. Each lost in their thoughts, the jeep''s headlights pierced the darkness of the night, creating a path into the unknown. The road was winding, much like the twists and turns of the revelations that awaited them. The night stretched out before them, a blank canvas to be filled with adventures, confessions, and perhaps a bit of champagne.

    Hadrian continued his journey to the only place that came to mind, just minutes away from the city. The tension in the car was palpable. Despite Zain deciding to adopt an open and positive attitude towards what Hadrian wanted to reveal, he was still petrified inside. The young man had witnessed the immortal''s curse up close, and it was evident that its cause must be equally abominable. His growing affection for Hadrian, the attraction he felt, did not alter his apprehension about learning more.

    Garth''s words echoed in his mind, warning him on the night of the massacre at the manor about the immortal, urging him to exercise more restraint in their interactions. However, for Zain, it was already too late. Although his memory had been completely erased since arriving in Redwaters, his emotions were intact, and in Hadrian''s presence, they seemed to reach unexplored heights. His heart and mind vibrated at a unique frequency, reminiscent of the imminent roar of a volcano about to erupt, ready to burn everything in its path.

    The mere memory of their lips touching awakened in him ineffable sensations, swirling emotions he had never experienced before, he was sure of it; otherwise, no magic would have been able to erase them. Zain initially averted his gaze from Hadrian, attempting to conceal the effervescence engulfing him. Then, a furtive glance at the driver''s seat left Zain captivated by the almost otherworldly perfection of Hadrian''s features, as if sculpted by a divine hand. Zain''s heart raced at this single thought, and he struggled to assimilate the complexity of the real Hadrian Archer.

    The jeep came to a stop in front of an unmarked facade, releasing dim lights and barely audible musical chords. The discreet but vigilant doorman greeted them with a nod as they entered.

    The interior of the bar, like a clandestine sanctuary, revealed an enchanting atmosphere, bathed in dark wood and thick curtains. Soft lights delicately slid over polished surfaces, creating golden reflections that harmoniously accompanied the music.

    The two men crossed the threshold together, Hadrian letting Zain choose his seat at a table illuminated by a gentle hanging lantern. The warm atmosphere of the place seemed to momentarily alter Hadrian''s usual confidence as he settled with feigned ease, revealing a touching nervousness in his gestures.

    A duo of musicians in tuxedos took control of the air, playing famous jazz pieces and unfolding enchanting melodies that added a touch of muted elegance to the environment.

    Hadrian gave a slight smile, attempting to conceal his vulnerability under this controlled facade. The complicit glances of the musician duo seemed to whisper a secret melody, intensifying the magic of the moment. The bartender finally approached them with a drinks menu.

    Amidst the murmurs of confidential conversations, muffled laughter, and the gentle hum of the music, Zain, comfortably settled in his chair, couldn''t help but smile. Despite the palpable tension at the dawn of Hadrian''s revelations, the place seemed to be the perfect setting, transforming this moment into something almost unreal.

    "What makes you smile like that?" queried the immortal, intrigued.

    "I just realized that it''s our first date," Zain replied.

    Hadrian, visibly caught off guard, surveyed the room where couples were entwined or engaged in intimate discussions, swayed by the jazz. He admitted, almost embarrassed :

    "I hadn''t realized it either... And since we came here for me to tell you more about myself, you have to know that this is my first real date altogether, with a boy at least."

    Zain stared at him, surprised and slightly flattered. In five hundred years of existence, Hadrian had never shared such a moment with another man.

    Even if this were to be their last date, this moment would remain etched in their memory forever.

    "I''m very flattered to be your first... date," Zain corrected himself, sensing the turn of his phrase. Hadrian, visibly uncomfortable, replied :

    "Yes, date. I don¡¯t want to be misleading, because as for the rest, I can''t really say the same, I''ve had quite a few experiences, a lot..."

    "A lot?!" asked Zain, raising his eyebrows.

    "Well, it depends on what we consider a lot..." he continued, his face slightly flushed.

    Zain signaled hurriedly to the waiter who returned to them, and he said with a mischievous smile :

    "A bottle of champagne, please, and make it fast!

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Sienna, now clad in Marsha''s form, gracefully roamed through the upper floor of her industrial loft, nestled at the rear of the Abundance bookstore. Her silent steps resonated within the space as she paused before the full-length mirror in the bedroom. The contours of her new body manifested in the reflection, awakening exhilarating and almost unique sensations within her. Tracing the face of the witch she now inhabited with her fingertips, an unrestrained tear rolled down her cheek. Her own body was missed ¨C a loss of youth and features that were once hers ¨C a privilege stripped away by Hadrian, leaving behind yet another invisible scar.

    Marsha''s possession wasn''t merely a physical hold. With the body, Sienna gained chaotic access to fragments of the witch''s memories. Waves of the past inundated her ¨C a surge of emotions and experiences paradoxically aiding her adaptation to this unfamiliar era. Technology, scientific advancements, social mutations, and historical convulsions intertwined in her mind like the threads of destiny.

    Lifting her top, Sienna lightly touched the scar near her lower abdomen, a relic of a cesarean section. Marsha had a daughter, just as Sienna once did. The poignant pain in her chest echoed the days preceding her death, days when happiness enveloped her existence. A family, an ephemeral utopia, swept away by Hadrian.

    Motherhood had proven to be the most gratifying experience of her life. For someone who had perpetually fled ¨C be it from the church, tumultuous relationships with lovers, or ruthless pimps seeking to exploit her vulnerability, or the violent clients encountered in the debauched life she led for survival ¨C all her traumas seemed absolved, erased by the sole birth of her daughter. A hope now extinguished for centuries.

    A sudden noise shattered the tranquility. Sienna averted her gaze from the mirror to find herself face to face with Rose, Marsha''s daughter. The young brunette, delicately donning glasses, entered the room with palpable urgency.

    "Mom, where were you? And when will you finally tell me what''s going on? I''m not fooled! I know the Willards are connected to Dad, and that''s why you''re going after them! Tell me the truth!"

    Sienna observed the young girl, her innocence betraying anxious curiosity. In an instant, Rose resembled Sienna''s own lost daughter, evoking a deep affection in her.

    "I''m not your mother, my dear."

    "That''s your big revelation? You''ve never really acted like one!"

    "No... I am Sienna, one of the first witches to tread these lands. I am temporarily borrowing Marsha''s physical form. We have an agreement."

    Rose stared at Sienna, incredulous, before retorting:

    "I know how possessions work. If you''re in my mother''s body, you''ve inherited her memories."

    "Yes, I now know her life, the person she is."

    "So, you know a lot about my life too. How distant, absent, sometimes cruel she was, and most importantly, how much she lied..."

    Sienna''s remorseful gaze confirmed the truth. Faced with silence, Rose persisted:

    "Then tell me! Reveal to me what I don''t know, and I promise I''ll help you with whatever you''re undertaking! Tell me who Carolina and Fleur Willard really are, and why my mother hates them so much?"

    Confronted with Rose''s distress, Sienna had no choice but to confess the truth. The prospect of having an ally in her plans stirred a hope she had yet to fully embrace.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    Zain hung on every word escaping Hadrian''s lips, captivated by the narration of his past.

    "So, you had only a week to find a way to extract Sienna''s witch sisters, free them from the witch hunt, and lead them to what would later become Redwaters?" he inquired, immersed in the immortal''s tale.

    Hadrian replied with a laden voice:

    "Yes, I wanted to find a way to get them out without shedding blood... I was naive."

    Zain, engrossed in the story, impatiently asked:

    "And then what happened?"

    "Sienna led me to believe she was allowing me to find a peaceful solution, but she used an illusion charm to pose as one of the prominent figures of the time, incriminating her and a list of other passengers. Her false confessions exonerated her witch sisters but led to the arrest and execution of ten innocent nobles, clearing the way for her newly liberated coven"

    Zain widened his eyes, astonished :

    "And you let her do it?" he asked, incredulous.

    Hadrian responded with regret: "I understood too late; the damage was already done. So, we proceeded with the plan... and a few days later, we set sail for the new world. But my heart never recovered from the loss of those innocent lives. Despite holding resentment towards Sienna, I also understood the challenges of her life, her distress, her defensive reflexes. She lived by different, more instinctive rules..."

    "You were simply in love with her, trying to rationalize her actions," Zain murmured, still stunned, yet gradually realizing that he identified with Hadrian''s confessions, being that he was desperately trying to prove to himself that the immortal was a good guy.

    Hadrian revealed with painful sincerity:

    "Beyond my love and passion for her, she represented an impossible ideal in my eyes... I knew my own demons, my feelings towards men, the shame that consumed me. With Sienna, everything vanished. I was entrusting her, and her alone with the impossible responsibility of steering me away from my vices. A toxic attachment had formed in me, an unhealthy dependence that I only identified too late..."

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Zain, captivated by the story, questioned with a curiosity mixed with concern: "What happened when the colony arrived?"

    Hadrian took a deep breath before continuing: "The first days were marvelous. Upon our arrival, there were very few traces of indigenous lives. We initiated the first city constructions, a new beginning. Sienna and her sisters were free to start anew, but I had to return to London quickly, which I dreaded the most..."

    He paused, his gaze reflecting the sadness of that separation :"I left, parted from her, hoping to return quickly. However, five long years passed before i could... Five years of torment, repression, indoctrination, five years of agony... All the despair that ensued caused the tragedy that followed when I finally managed to return to Sienna..." he confessed, his crystal-clear eyes lowered in shame, revealing the complexity of his journey.

    New World, 1566

    The majestic English ship cut through the tumultuous waters of the Atlantic, carrying Hadrian towards the New World. In the five years since his last contact with this promised land, Hadrian had risen through the ranks of his military career, now holding the coveted position of Colonel. However, his life in London with his wife, his daily existence, had been a series of misfortunes and disappointments that shattered all his hopes. His gaze, tinted with a complex emotion of anticipation and apprehension, was lost in the distant horizons as the ship approached the shores of the colony established five years prior.

    The creaking of the moorings and the gentle murmur of the waves blended into the atmosphere filled with Hadrian''s doubts. Finally setting foot on solid ground, his eyes, honed by years of military service, surveyed the landscape before him. Instead of the inhospitable harshness he anticipated, Hadrian was struck by the sight of a reality that defied all his preconceptions.

    Children playing freely embodied an innocence Hadrian had almost forgotten amidst years of turmoil and internal struggle against his deep-rooted nature. The inhabitants, whether indigenous or English, collaborated in a harmony that seemed to spring from his wildest dreams.

    The transformation of the colony since his departure amazed him. Neat constructions, lush gardens, and a peaceful atmosphere testified to a life that had flourished in his absence. Long-repressed emotions resurfaced, disrupting the rigidity forged by years that passed.

    Hadrian allowed himself to be guided through the new streets, observing every detail with poignant attention. The sound of mixed laughter, the diversity of shared customs, all evoked a new reality, a harmonious balance transcending the scars of the past. The barriers he had erected around his heart seemed to crumble in the face of this living demonstration of unity.

    The New World, unfolding all its splendor and diversity before him, shook the foundations of the shell forged by trials. Hadrian understood that his return meant much more than a simple reunion; it was a rebirth.

    When he locked eyes with Sienna, hand in hand with a little girl who seemed to be a miniature reflection of her mother, a tumultuous wave crossed Hadrian. The warmth of a sincere welcome and the sparkle of life in Sienna''s eyes revived a part of him he thought was lost forever. The touching sight of Sienna guiding the little girl through the streets, sharing laughter and intimate moments, seemed to be a living illustration of a life that had continued without him, a bitter sweet realisation.

    Sienna, entrusting her daughter to a friend in front of a stall with a reassuring smile, now walked towards Hadrian with a tension in her gaze, a mixture of surprise and confusion.

    Hadrian and Sienna slipped away into an isolated alley. Sienna finally surrendered herself in Hadrian''s arms, her happiness and disorientation clearly visible on her face. Amidst the swirling emotions, Hadrian, caught in the heat of passion, kissed her. However, the enchantment was abruptly halted as Sienna, embarrassed and taken off guard, stopped him sharply, saying,

    "What are you doing?! stop!"

    Perplexed, Hadrian stepped back, searching her eyes for the reason behind this sudden turn of events. Sienna''s words echoed in the silence of the alley.

    "You didn''t see the little one with me? I am married, Hadrian..."

    "Married?" he repeated, astounded.

    The shadows in the alley seemed to thicken around them.

    "Yes, I''ve started a new life, taken a fresh start here. I am finally happy, Hadrian..."

    Her words resonated in the darkness, hitting Hadrian head-on.

    "But... I came back for you, for us to finally be together..."

    Sienna, with a stern gaze, explained to him, as if losing patience:

    "I''m happy for you, that you''ve finally managed to break free from London. I''m glad to see you here, but there''s no reason for us to play this charade. I''m done..."

    "A charade?!" he repeated, bewildered.

    Hadrian felt plunged into a nightmare. Sienna''s revelations unfolded like an implacable whirlwind.

    "Hadrian, we had a relationship of convenience. I needed an escape route, and you needed to convince yourself that you could be with a woman. That the problem wasn''t you and your desires, but the world around you."

    Hadrian, drowned in shame and sorrow, confronted a bitter truth.

    "I moved heaven and earth for you, closed my eyes to your manipulations, to the murder of innocents. I lied, betrayed, disappointed, all only out of love for you! And you call that a relationship of convenience?"

    "You don''t love me, Hadrian. You love what I represent. An ideal, a different fantasy, a fantasy that held your interest just enough not to succumb to what you truly want." Sienna''s words pierced Hadrian like sharp blades, revealing a truth he refused to accept.

    "But here, it''s different. The natives are different. The judgment of the church doesn''t weigh on us like in London. Here, you can live as you please. You no longer need me for that," she concluded, her gentle hand caressing Hadrian''s cheek.

    Tears blurred Hadrian''s red eyes, his body trembling under the weight of shame, fear, and pain. The feeling of betrayal threatening to make him loose his balance.

    He lifted his face towards her, abruptly moving away from her embrace.

    "I''ve truly wasted my life for you, for a whore. That''s the only thing that shames me."

    Sienna stared at him with eyes filled with sadness, as Hadrian swiftly left the alley without looking back. The echoes of a shattered love resonated in the air, carrying with them the shadow of past illusions.

    Several hours had passed since that heart-wrenching exchange, and Hadrian, on the upper floor of the inn where he had taken residence in the colony, gazed out of the window at life unfolding below. He was drowned in the warmth of the alcohol he consumed, desperately trying to stifle the turmoil within his soul, but to no avail. A part of him acknowledged the truth in Sienna''s words, yet the harshness of his past, lived in the shadow of his true nature, prevented him from fully accepting it. Without Sienna, he was nothing more than a shadow of himself, a deviant without hope of redemption. Memories of the innocent victims, lost to Sienna''s illusion spell, haunted him. Lives sacrificed to protect a lie¡ªan atrocious idea that cruelly contrasted with the sacrifice for love he could more easily justify to himself.

    The door opened, and Conrad, a young lieutenant with bright green eyes and golden curls, entered. He approached Hadrian, who was still lost in contemplation, his face flushed with excitement.

    "Colonel Archer! Why are you here? Come downstairs celebrate with us!"

    Conrad positioned himself beside Hadrian, caught in contemplation and thoughts, before continuing, also absorbing the scenes of life flourishing below them. "It''s fabulous, isn''t it, this new world? The chief admiral can''t believe it. The colony thrives, the camaraderie between our people and the natives is so unexpected that they''re considering establishing more colonies all around, peaceful colonies. A new way of life, a utopia turned reality, praise the to Lord."

    Hadrian remained silent, unable to utter a single word. The alcohol clouded his thoughts, his heart shattered by disillusionments, and his guilt for what he was and what he had done paralyzed him. Conrad, not understanding his state, placed gentle hand on his shoulder and looked at him with his sincere green eyes before asking:

    "Colonel, what''s happening to you? Aren''t you happy to be here, to witness this revolution?"

    Hadrian turned his gaze, that of a shattered man, toward Conrad and spoke in a bitter tone, his words laden with brutal truth :

    "What utopia?! what revolution?! and at what cost? You praise the Lord for all this, yet it''s the devil''s work!" His words resonated in the room, almost incoherent, carrying his profound pain.

    Conrad looked at him, his eyes expressing complete incomprehension : "What do you mean?" he asked, attempting to unravel the mystery clouding Hadrian''s mind.

    Hadrian faced him, intensifying his scrutiny. The lieutenant''s innocent beauty only heightened Hadrian''s emotional turmoil. The sight of his rosy lips, his muscular body, his golden curls, the irresistible need to feel him against his own flesh, swirled in his mind, igniting an internal fight that could only mean one thing: he was lost without Sienna, vulnerable to his unnatural impulses.

    "Before our departure five years ago, that woman who confessed her sins, incriminating her friends as well as herself for witchcraft, it was all an illusion. Those women were innocent, dead for nothing; the ones who took their place for the journey were the real witches. Everything here is governed by dark magic, by the devil himself!" declared Hadrian.

    Conrad looked at him with bewildered eyes, unable to grasp the extent of those words. He hastily exited the room, leaving Hadrian alone with his bitterness, his indifferent gaze concealing the inner turmoil threatening to engulf him.

    The hours of darkness had given way to a ominous dawn when Hadrian regained his senses. The room, where the gray light of dawn seeped through tattered curtains, bore witness to the turmoil enveloping the colonel. The distant sound of cannons could be heard, piercing the silence of the inn like ominous echoes of a self-fulfilling prophecy.

    However, Hadrian''s consciousness was not yet clear from the haze of lingering alcoholic fumes. Reality emerged gradually, akin to fragments of a troubling dream. Recollections of his heart-wrenching confessions to Conrad clashed with the brutal symphony of war raging outside.

    Laboriously, Hadrian rose, staggering, his legs still numb from the excesses of the previous night. The room, once a calm refuge, was now tainted by the remorse assaulting his mind. The heavy air of his apprehension lingered around him, blending with the chill of dawn. He approached the window, revealing a tableau of destruction in the once tranquil colony. Cannons thundered, punctuating each beat of his heart. The tumult of war echoed the internal storm tearing at Hadrian.

    As he descended the inn''s stairs hastily, a scene of desolation unfolded before him. Buildings ablaze cast dancing shadows on torn cobblestones. The cries of the wounded and the clamor of battle formed a discordant symphony.

    Haunted by guilt, Hadrian navigated through the tragedy he had unwittingly unleashed. The colony, once a haven of peace, was now the stage for fratricidal war sparked by his misplaced jealousy. Images swirled in his mind¡ªimages of innocent men and women sacrificed, lives annihilated by the madness of the army.

    In his wandering amid the chaos, Hadrian encountered frightened gazes, familiar faces seeking answers. Each step was burdened by the unbearable weight of his conscience. He was the inadvertent architect of this destruction, and the smoldering remnants of the colony were the stigmata of his inner demons.

    The banks of the river appeared on the horizon, where terrified inhabitants sought refuge. Hadrian, a powerless witness the catastrophe, observed the flow of people trying to escape the horror. The pale light of dawn nuanced their silhouettes, creating an apocalyptic scene accentuated by the guilt of a man who had destroyed utopia in the name of his own inner hatred.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    "So, that''s how it all unfolded. Fleur is, in fact, my sister, and Mom harbored jealousy towards her and Carolina for the love my father had for them. "

    Sienna, donning the physical form of Marsha, nodded in agreement as she and Rose engaged in a discussion, seated on the well-worn leather couch in the Loft of the sorceress. Rose''s fingers nervously danced on her eyeglasses as she finally absorbed the long-anticipated revelation. The intricacies of the story unfurled, exposing a complex past, laden with obsessions and meticulously concealed secrets.

    Rose had always perceived her mother''s passionate blindness when it came to her father. Yet, the revelation of her half-sister''s hidden existence, also a witch living nearby, exceeded all conceivable limits. Fleur and Rose had shared the corridors of Rewaters High School for two significant years, belonging to the same generation but navigating different academic realms. Every missed opportunity to connect with Fleur, every potential spark of camaraderie, dissipated within the labyrinth of deceit woven by her mother.

    Rose''s decision to distance herself and live with her aunt, returning to Rewaters only in adulthood, mirrored the chasm created by the secrets that had sculpted her life. Marsha, emotionally distant and disinterested in motherhood, had sidestepped parental responsibilities, while Rose, studious and resolute, had discovered a haven of balance with her aunt.

    Still reeling from the revelations, Rose inquired with barely restrained emotion :"And Carolina and Fleur would be your descendants?"

    Sienna, with a calmness that failed to mask the satisfaction of a mother, responded: "Yes, they come from my lineage. It appears that my daughter survived the horrific Redwaters massacre."

    Intrigued, Rose pressed: "And what do you plan to do now?"

    Sienna''s unyielding determination surged forth in her words: "I want to retrieve my own body, resurrect my witch sisters from the clutches of death. I yearn for us to reclaim the life that was unjustly stolen from us. I want to witness Hadrian suffer for all of eternity."

    Rose, contemplating the challenges of such a formidable task, solemnly declared:"Resurrecting souls lost for centuries is neither a simple undertaking nor one without consequences."

    Sienna''s gaze, lowered but intense, revealed her full awareness of the trials awaiting her. When Rose posed the pivotal question: "How did you return from the beyond?"

    The enigma lingered in Sienna''s response: "I don''t know. Strange magic brought me back¡ªmagic from another world. It allowed me to be on the lands devoid of magic without compromising my own powers."

    Rose then offered, imbued with conviction: "Then begin there. If you unearth the source of your return, this foreign magic, you might be able to harness it to bring back your sisters."

    Sienna looked at her, her eyes now gleaming with a renewed spark of hope. Finally, a tangible starting point had emerged for her intricate plan.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    New World, 1566

    Sienna stood at the edge of the river, the surrounding hills offering a grim panorama. English soldiers, akin to harbingers of doom, unleashed a deluge of destruction upon the colony. The tumult of artillery was accompanied by the roar of the river, once crystalline but now tainted with a reddish hue, absorbing the agony that hung in the air.

    Under the tattered sky, Sienna watched, powerless, as the macabre spectacle unfolded. Her Indigenous friends, her native husband, her sorceress sisters¡ªall succumbed one after the other, their bodies drifting slowly in the waters now tinged with red. It was a slaughter, a senseless massacre that scarred the usually serene hills and waters.

    Despair gripped Sienna, a piercing pain coursing through her being as her dreams shattered, her friends killed. The cries of horror echoed in her mind, each loss leaving an indelible mark on her battered soul.

    Among the screams of violence, Sienna spotted Hadrian, frozen amidst the carnage. She instinctively felt he was responsible for this tragedy. A final glance towards the clearing overlooking the river revealed her little daughter, paralyzed, hiding behind a tree, eyes wide open in terror.

    In an outpouring of despair and determination, Sienna looked to the sky and invoked an ancestral spell, intertwining her pain with magic. She cast a last gaze upon her former lover and cursed him irreversibly, condemning his soul for eternity. Dark energy surged around her, swirling with all its might. Sienna gestured to her daughter from afar, signaling her to close her eyes and not witness her final act.

    Consumed by grief, Sienna slit her throat before Hadrian''s eyes in an explosion of blood. The blade of her own dagger sealed the spell along with her life. The red of the river reflected the price paid for this ultimate incantation, and Sienna faded into the depths of the tainted waters, leaving behind a tableau of destruction and sacrifice.

    Fleur woke up screaming in her hospital room, the white walls echoing with her heart-wrenching cries. Sienna''s attempt to take over her body had triggered a cascade of memories that flooded her consciousness. Sienna''s entire life flashed before her eyes, and it was her tragic end that violently brought her back to the painful reality. Elliott and Ouray rushed into the room in response to her scream. The red-haired witch was completely disoriented, caught between her own memories and those of Sienna, struggling to discern reality.

    "Fleur!" exclaimed Elliott as he approached her, but the young girl shot him a fierce look, signaling him to stay away. She placed a hand on her belly. She was pregnant, but Fleur knew, with a mother''s intuition, that her baby was no more. Lost forever in the woods, just like her mother. Ouray stood still, overwhelmed by the emotion in the room. Fleur seemed shattered.

    "I''m sorry, Fleur," stammered Elliott, trying to explain, but Fleur cut him off, ordering him:

    "Get out of here right now! Go!"

    The young man, in tears, cast one last glance before complying, hastily leaving the room. Fleur trembled all over. Ouray, in a reassuring paternal gesture, approached her and embraced her. The young girl broke down, bursting into tears in the arms of her mentor, the weight of her trauma becoming too heavy to contain.

    ¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì¡ì

    As Hadrian was concluding his narration, seated at the softly illuminated table, his eyes were reddened by tears reflecting a whirlwind of emotions. With his head lowered, he bore the burden of shame, allowing the room''s silence to soak in the weighty consequences of his story. A veil of regrets and remorse hung in the air, thickening the atmosphere.

    "Ouray was close by," he finally murmured, breaking the oppressive silence. The words resonated in the room like discordant notes. "Alerted by the cannon shots, he tried to save those he could, including Sienna''s daughter. He found me in the woods, several days later, a broken man lost in the labyrinth of madness. My incoherent words haunted his mind, as did the curse that weighed on me. That''s when he started reaching out, helping me find some semblance of inner peace."

    Hadrian lifted his gaze, his eyes seeking Zain''s. Vulnerability shimmered in his gaze, and the shadow of deep-seated pain was etched within. "I''ll understand if you want nothing more to do with me," he whispered, his voice trembling. "What I''ve done is...horrible."

    Hadrian''s words hung in the air, letting a palpable tension settle. Zain, confronted with the magnitude of the revelations, felt the weight of each word. Compassion mingled with astonishment in his gaze, creating a complex tapestry of emotions that danced between the two men.

    "Horrible," Zain repeated, fully grasping the unveiled tragedy. "Your hatred for your former self led you into a spiral of anger and jealousy, exacerbated by alcohol, culminating in a fatal confession to the wrong person. The repercussions were devastating. Yet, for the past five centuries, you''ve been atoning, doing good, rectifying your wrongs..."

    The gazes of the two men met, forging an unbreakable link between past and present. "You don''t seem to understand," Hadrian retorted with escalating intensity. "What I took from Sienna, from all these people who lived happily, their families, their lives, nothing can repair that."

    Emotion swirled in the room, and Zain sensed Hadrian''s inner turmoil. The cutting words were shards of deep pain. "True, you committed a fatal error with atrocious consequences," Zain admitted, his gaze reflecting nuanced understanding. "But you would never have allowed it to happen if you had the power to stop it. You would never have said anything to that lieutenant if you knew it would happen. Ouray and you preserved Sienna''s lineage until Fleur today."

    A charged silence settled, the gazes remaining entwined in a silent dance of complex emotions. Zain took Hadrian''s hand, symbolizing an understanding that transcended the weight of the past. "I don''t know what you expect from me," Zain declared calmly, "but if it''s my anger or rejection, know that you''ll only receive compassion from me. I believe you''ve already paid a sufficient price."

    Hadrian, moved by this unexpected response, gazed at Zain in disbelief.

    The first enchanting notes of "Can''t Help Falling in Love" emanated from the jazz duo on stage, creating a spellbinding melody that hung in the air, capturing the very essence of the moment. The gazes between Zain and Hadrian locked intensely, a palpable connection establishing itself between them, laden with an intensity never before explored.

    In a musical embrace, Zain gracefully stood, extending his hand in a silent invitation. Hadrian, still reeling from their emotional exchange, hesitated for a moment before seizing the offered hand. He rose slowly, approaching Zain, the two men finding themselves at the heart of the enchanting music.

    To the languorous rhythm of the song, they embarked on a dance infused with profound intimacy. It was a singular moment for Hadrian, an experience he had never lived and would never have dared to imagine. As they twirled on the dance floor, Hadrian tightened his embrace around Zain, feeling both vulnerable and protected. He had never felt more present, immersed in the magic of a shared moment.