When the door opens, we’re greeted by Dain who pulls himself from leaning on the wall. How long has he been here?
The two briefly exchange a wordless look before the three of us tread the hallway.
At this point, it might be for the best if they will hand me over to her. That way, I can continue pretending to know nothing and proceed with the next phase of the plan.
However, the number of days I was absent will not let my act deceive her.
Ryia is not stupid. I’m sure she already has an idea of what’s going on.
In this case, the other best option that we have is to proceed with some of our cards exposed.
Our steps halted as we reach the entrance hall.
An impatient standing woman in a short navy coat dress walks to us. Just before she can get a few meters close, Dain and Bran steps in front of me, the same gesture they did back at the lake.
Ryia cocks an eyebrow and sizes them up with her judging gaze.
“The bloodsucker and the wet dog again, huh? I can’t believe you can’t even pick proper escorts for yourself, dear sister.”
“Compared to your poor choice of ‘friends’, Lili is doing a better job,” leave it to Bran to compete with her for the best retort.
Those emerald eyes. They used to be so gentle.
As Ryia attempted to take another step towards me, Bran raises his gun in a swift motion while Dain’s claws extend in his partly wolf hands.
“You want me to blow your head off again, vampire?” after the questioning remark to Bran, she turns her eyes on Dain who’s not spared from her provocation.
“I should’ve sliced you into tiny bits and pieces back then. That way you could’ve stayed as dog meat.”
There’s a low growl in Dain’s chest as his pupils become a thin line.
However, this time, the duo has a different objective.
If Ryia thinks they will guard me and keep her away from me, it will be the start of her demise.
These two are not guards. They’re not here to protect me.
I step back to give them the freedom to go all out against the witch that killed them once already. The first encounter didn’t turn out too great for them. This time, it will be different.
There’s a smirk creeping onto my face as I imagine the chessboard in my mind. She has wandered from her safe space like the pawn she is to be destroyed in my game. With a small nod, I smile at my opponent before picking up the glistening polished wooden chess piece and move in the letter that represents exactly who she is.
“Losers side with the losing team.” She once told me.
Well take your ‘R’ Ryia, I smirk, taking another step back.
She takes the bait, and the Knights jump into place.
Chapter 4
The Bishops
Ryia has no regard for what would happen around her. She couldn't care less that she’ll destroy the mansion for the second time, not that she cared the first time.
The unrelenting arcane force she uses makes a big mess in the entrance hall.
There are a lot of slice marks and bullet holes through the walls; the chandelier is lying in a shattered state on the floor, the ceramic pieces of the house plant vases mix in with the tiny glass shards that scattered around.
My eyes wander around the mess as the three continue their all-out battle.
I sigh to myself when I realise how much it would cost to restore the mansion again without Allyn’s reconstruction spell. The girl already went home this morning to avoid the chaos that we expected to take place, and I would feel like a total bitch making Faust summon her again.
Contradictory to the night at the lake, she looks to be overwhelmed with their coordinated attack as they utilise Bran’s short-range portals. Allyn had refined the portal stone before she left and now there were but a few seconds in between each porthole formation.
Dain is using the portals to attack from different directions which divides Ryia’s attention from Bran who effectively uses his blood to make different bullets like smoked and exploding ones. The duo is showing just half of their offence potential with their synchronisation which makes it hard for the witch to keep up. I’d be lying if I said I’m not proud of my boys.
Considering they are at full strength now, unlike the last time when they’ve already used most of their energy against the group of Guardian Witches Ryia had brought with her, they are playing this game on their own terms. To be honest, they could quite easily overpower her. But the two seem to be enjoying this charade. They could kill her if I wanted them to, but the objective is not to kill her.
It’s to capture her.
They only have to exhaust her energy. So far, they’re doing good. But it won’t be easy to take this witch down.
Her scarlet eyes betray how much energy she’s already exerted. She’s draining out slowly, and when she does, it’ll make it easier for us to wrap this thing up.
I can see the burning frustration in her scarlet eyes as it darts across the room, trying to keep up with Dain’s swift movement, and Bran’s bullets.
Poor little Ryia.
In the past hour, she hasn’t managed to land a single scratch on either of them. I can understand her frustration. The high and mighty Guardian Witch has finally realised that she’s no match for the duo who no longer have the burden of protecting a helpless girl.
I know they were worried that I could have ended up as collateral damage back then.
Gaining back my memories became a great relief for all of us. Now, they don’t have to worry about me getting caught in between the flying bullets and the slicing arcane force.
Bran shoots at Ryia with a spinning silver bullet which forced her to put up a barrier. Dain uses the opportunity to appear in her left to claw at her.
Rattled as she already is, the witch is not able to move away with the barrier already set up around her.
How ironic. She’s cornered by her own protective measures.
The claws leave a mark on her beautiful face.
Her hair tie suddenly snaps, letting her strawberry blonde hair fall. Her pent-up annoyance materialises in an instant blowing Dain away with one powerful arcane wave.
Blood slides down to her jaw from her cheek as she stands straight again, ready for Bran’s offence.
The vampire fires in succession, but the Arcane fortifies her barriers to deflect the spinning bullets. However, she didn’t expect the crimson grenade that flies over her direction.
She’s quick to put up a dome over her, but the blood that splattered everywhere after the explosion melts everything it contacts.
The thick barrier and the dome she just made melt and evaporate with the vampire blood. The sight of them swiftly disintegrating.
Bran’s smirk deepens as he silently tells her that he’s out for blood.
Her fists clench. She gives another deadly stare at the man responsible for the disappearance of her protection.
Another exploding bullet shoots from the pale man’s gun. As soon as it’s only a few meters away from her face, it bursts into flames and explodes, scattering thick smoke all over.
For a few minutes, there’s no movement within the black veil of smoke.
It makes us start to think it’s already over…
Until I feel something cold on my neck.
When the smoke cleared, Ryia is standing beside me, pointing a sharp scarlet blade right to my neck.
Bran freezes in place with a frown on his face.
I can’t believe she was pushed to resort to this. Her goal was to take me back.
But for her to take me as a hostage against them?
It screams desperate.
Too bad…
It’s not going to work.
Without any second thoughts, I push the dagger Bran gave me through her stomach.
Her being caught off-guard means she thought she already turned the tables. Her eyes stare at me with disbelief as I return her gaze with a cold one.
The
blade drops to the floor. Her hands tremble as she reaches for the dagger in an attempt to pull it out.
I can’t give her the time to do that. Without letting go of the handle, I twist the dagger inside her, making her wail in pain.
My vision is suddenly clouded with anger as my memories of the bloody night resurface. I can feel a kind of power surges through my veins as I hold the dagger that is responsible for making her cry out like she never did before.
“Liliwen! Liliwen!!”
Someone shakes me with force as I grip the handle tightly, not wanting to let go.
I can hear the fake name she gave me being shouted many times in the background as my ears get covered with a deafening ringing sound.
The desire to bury the dagger deeper within her is so strong that it overwhelms all my senses.
My mind went blank after several scenes of the hundreds of years I was under her manipulation flashes at lightning speed.
I want to get back at her for all the mental and emotional trauma she put me through, for blowing Bran’s head off, for slicing Dain into pieces, and for almost killing Zoren.
After almost a millennium, I have the chance to do it.
I have the chance to call it quits.
But a whisper in my ear takes away all of that, “Meg.”
My eyes begin to focus, the sound returns in my ear and my head starts to clear.
There’s another hand wrapping around my right hand that grips the dagger. The other hand embraces my head gently as his head leans slightly on my temple, his lips… just above my ear.
The woman in front of me is already unconsciously leaning on Dain who’s holding her to keep her from dropping to the floor. Bran is standing at my side with a horrified expression.
I look at the hand that holds the dagger. Faust’s right hand loosen my fingers around them, one by one until he entirely moves it away from the weapon.
The tremor within me starts to awaken my sense of reality.
I was close to killing her.
Seeing the turmoil going on in my head, the man who’s holding my hand pulls me into a complete embrace. I helplessly tremble in his arms as I what I’ve done sinks in.
That was not a part of the plan.
I knew she could be too close to me, but I never expected the feeling of the successful retaliation against her would devour me like this.
I didn’t know all the pain within me was capable of almost turning me into a murderer.
‘Don’t let them turn you into a bad one.’
Mum?
The silence engulfs the torn down hall.
It didn’t last long when a portal suddenly appears out of thin air.
“Sheesh. What a mess,” the annoyed voice of the newcomer takes Bran and Dain’s attention.
“What took you so long?” demands Bran.
I can hear another set of footsteps coming out of the portal. The familiar sweet voice that belongs to it speaks in worry, “Oh, my. What happened?”
“She almost killed her,” it was Dain who answered in a quiet but grim voice.
“Then, she should’ve gotten it over with,” the harsh new voice belongs to a female who’s not very keen on being nice.
I slowly pull away from Faust’s comfort and turn to meet the Elf and the Fae who just arrived.
“Lady Alwyn…” Adara bows before looking me over with grave concern.
I bet this is not how they expect to meet me again after I finally have my original mind back.
“We have to go,” I say weakly after I gathered all the remaining strength in me. Faust gently let’s go. As usual, he treats me with care without diminishing my capability to stand on my own.
The Elf scoffs at me, “You had the audacity to act on your emotions without accepting the consequence? You’re as pathetic as I remember you to be.”
“I don’t have time for this, Dimia,” as much as I want to entertain her familiar, condescending attitude, after the years that we haven’t seen each other, I’m already drained, and if I push myself to tackle her, I may wind up finishing what I started with Ryia on her instead.
“Of course, you don’t,” the Elven woman won’t waste a chance to throwback with her sarcasm, “you have a whole freaking world to save.”
If people think all Elves are as gentle as the Faes, they have to do a re-evaluation after they meet Dimia, the sharp-tongued Sorceress from the west.
Dain carries the unconscious witch in his arms and proceeds to enter the portal from where Dimia and Adara appeared.
Bran gives me one last look of worry before he follows suit. Adara returns to the portal after she gives me a smile in an attempt to comfort me. She’s always been so loyal.
As she does, Dimia’s slanted eyes narrow as she takes in the destruction that befell the vast entrance hall. She turns to Faust, who doesn’t take his eyes off of my unsteady steps.
“You should leave this garbage and come with us.”
He briefly returns the gaze before setting them back to me, “I still have matters to attend to.”
“You sure you want to let her go like that?” she points to my direction with her a nod.
“She’ll be fine,” he says, meeting my eyes as I get one last look before I go.
The unconcerned Elf shrugs indifferently as she heads to the portal before I step in.
I stop in front of the whirling doorway wanting to say something. However, it seems my voice got caught in my throat.
“You’ll be fine. You have them with you,” even if my back is facing him, I can hear the confidence in his tone, his faith in my strength, “I’ll take care of things here.”
I only nod in response. Then, I finally step in.
***
I open my eyes to a room inside a castle. I expected it would be in a Portal Tomb because it will take one to set up such a long-range portal. But maybe that’s just me underestimating the power of a sorceress.
The people who entered the portal before me are already in motion.
Ryia is lying still on a white queen-sized bed with her hands and feet tied with an enchanted rope. The mixture of purple, red, and black in the rope will suppress all her magical energy.
The vampire and the werewolf stand back as Dimia and Adara get to work.
The Elf wraps her hands around the handle of the protruding dagger, still left inside her while Adara rests her hands around the open wound, ready to heal her.
Slowly but surely, Dimia pulls the dagger out of the witch’s stomach. Her unconscious body is as still as a statue even when the dagger is being pulled out.
Once it’s out of the way, Adara immediately casts a healing spell on the wound to close it, to avoid too much blood loss.
It’s not our intention to kill her, after all.
Yet I lost control. I have to admit that to myself. I have to, so I don’t repeat the same mistake.
“Meghan,” after the years that passed without hearing my real name, it suddenly feels weird to hear anyone use it. It’s such a shame that it’s not being spoken by a more worthy creature.
I turn to Dimia who seems to be waiting for my go signal, “Her condition is already stable. We’re going to start.”
One curt nod from me, and they begin working. Seeing them move around, drawing the diagram, gathering herbs and other materials needed, helps me regain my true self. I start to get a grip on myself.
I can’t stay shaken like this. That is the old Liliwen, not me. Not Lady Meghan Alwyn.
We need to succeed in every phase of the plan. If I let myself drift away for even a moment, everything we’ve worked hard for will turn to dust, and I cannot have that. I will not have it.
I have to keep steeling myself in every encounter, so I can move forward without looking back.
I take my eyes off of my hand and set them to the ritual that Dimia and Adara are performing.
The clock is still running and every second count. I have to keep playing the game and making smart moves until we win this ga
me.
What happened tonight wasn’t smart, but it wasn’t final. The game is still in play.
Now that the Knights have cornered her. I’ll leave the rest to the Bishops.
Just as Ryia had the chance to do what she wants with me…
This time, I will be the one to break her.
Chapter 5
The Rooks
A war has started within me the moment I shoved that dagger into Ryia.
I feel no remorse for what I did, but I do regret that I acted impulsively and that it almost ruined our plan. I don’t regret piercing that demented bitch. I would gladly stab her again... I just might when this is all over. It will be her ultimate checkmate. I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.
No, Meghan!
You are not a murderer. “Don’t let them turn you into a bad one.”
The two sides of my mind are at odds with each other. I still haven’t recovered from what I have done. The fact that I’ve almost killed someone has me reeling.
Does it though? Does it really?
That’s enough!
After the hours of chanting and performing several parts of the reverse ritual, I finally excuse myself from the room where Dimia and Adara extract memories from the unconscious Guardian Witch.
I step outside to cool my head, in the hopes of finding solace in the garden, I tread through the old castle’s desolate halls and corridors.
This castle has been standing for more than a thousand years. It’s even older than I am.
Back then, this place was brimming with activity.
There was always some kind of festivity going on here. The halls are filled with visitors who let their curiosity lead them to different parts of the castle, advisors, knights, maids who were always busy to attend to royalty and their guests.
There’s always music flowing wherever you go. Smiles spread, pleasantries exchanged, smooth flowing dances performed, hidden affairs lurking, food carts pushed around.
There was always something in here.
But now…
There’s nothing.
The place became abandoned, and Dimia has taken it upon herself to use this as her own base.
Once I find my way to the garden, I immediately recognise Adara’s work in it.
Witch's Checkmate: Short Stories - Book Four - Witch's The Cursed Circle Series Page 3
