Witch's Cursed Circle Complete Collection

by Evelyn Cooper

  It’s too early to reveal my cards when all I have is the knowledge that there’s a game being played. If I make that known, I’m sure they’ll find a way to remedy the situation, and I’d have made an enemy out of Ryia for sure. I’m not yet ready for all of that. There’s too much to learn.

  So, I’ve decided to keep on playing house with her until I get what I want.

  The still silence of the forest gives way to the sound of the determination pounding in my heart as we take the dark and treacherous path “home”.

  ****

  I’ve been staring into the abyss for hours. There’s a ball of pain welling up inside my chest that, try as I may, I can’t seem to shake.

  My legs are sprawled on the floor as my body leans against the frame of the bed.

  The silence in the room had enticed my mind to drift to the bad memory of death. And this heavy feeling of loss had taken over since then.

  There’s a constant war between the stern voice in my head and my grieving soul, but, it’s obvious which one is winning.

  The multiple trips to the bathroom gave no relief to whatever was twisting inside my stomach. I’m amazed that there’s anything but bile and water there given that I haven’t eaten anything for the last five days. Not even during my dinner with Bran and Dain.

  If only I had known that was meant to be my only dinner with them...

  Regret joined the turmoil of emotions whirling around inside me as if the agony was not already enough.

  Keep moving forward, huh?

  I couldn’t magically transform myself to be a steel-willed woman. Not after the many years, I’ve spent being told I’m weak and worth nothing. Not when I’m the witch with the low-as-hell self-esteem.

  The sudden pounding on the door grabbed my attention and yanked me away from the ledge in my head.

  “How long do you plan on locking yourself in there, Lili?” The agitated voice behind the door claws its way up my skin and threatens to rip me open, but despite my sorrow and my need to grieve, I can’t seem to find the part of me that once cared about anything Liliwen has to say or how she’s trying to make me feel.

  There was a quick click coming from my door, and the next thing I know, she’s already inside. Her right-hand rests on her waist as she stares impatiently at me with a raised brow. Her nightgown was as scarlet as the blood she spilled tonight, and I find myself wondering if perhaps she had taken one of her white witch robes back to the forest and bathed in the blood of her fallen enemies. That somehow wouldn’t surprise me.

  Her nonchalant impatience is distasteful considering the circumstances. It’s unsettling how unbothered she is about the fact that she just spent the night on a murderous crusade.

  The scenes of the bloody night flashed in my mind again, and I was forced to turn away before I threw up all over her bloodstained gown.

  “Liliwen!” once again, her demanding voice echoed throughout the room.

  I slowly turned my head and looked up at her. The irritated crease on her forehead taunting me to tell her how much of a failure she was. To repeat the words, the Minister of Defense had spat at her. To let her know that I know… instead, I say nothing.

  “Why on earth are you moping around? Does your sympathy lie with your kidnappers?” her eyes narrow at me with suspicion.

  I feel no obligation to answer, and I can see my blank stare pushing her to the brink of her patience.

  “This is just pathetic! They kidnapped you, Lili. Kidnapped! And you still have the heart to feel for them? What is wrong with you?” She scoffs at me and rolls her eyes.

  Ever since my eyes were opened to the truth, I’ve harboured nothing but hate in my heart for this vile creature standing before me, parading around this asinine persona of the sisterly witch. The hatred intensifies with each moment, each word, each breath and I can’t help but wonder if perhaps, this hatred is not new. Perhaps it lay dormant in the parts of my brain corrupted by them. Maybe I’ve always hated this witch and this coven. Maybe we’re as far away from being sisters as we are from being friends. It does make for an interesting concept, and it must be hell for her if that’s the case. I find myself taking comfort in the possibilities.

  “Don’t tell me... The reason you’re feeling this way is that you’ve connived with them?”

  The accusation triggered something within me, and I can feel her. I can feel her fingers inside me, pushing through the cracks, trying to rip this useless act to shreds and steamroll this putrid menace right where she stands, looking down at me.

  “Answer me, Lili,” the demand in her voice is a rope she latches on to and pulls herself out from inside me. I could feel a switch inside me flip. Strange confidence, a burning rage bubbles up inside my chest, and I stood up, all wobbling gone from my feet, all trembling erased from my voice, all fear gone from my heart. I face her with a deep scowl on my face, without flinching under her sharp glare, and when the words poured out of my mouth, I knew it was her.

  “You killed those men tonight right before my eyes. You had no regard for whatever horrible experience I will go through when you held me in place with whatever bullshit binding spell you used and let me witness the murder, you so callously executed, and now you have the nerve to enter the only place inside this house that I can call my own; the only privacy I have with your loud judgment and sharp persecution?”

  It was that woman’s voice.

  “You dare to enter my room and accuse me...”

  Holy crap Lili this has to stop. You’ll give yourself away.

  For a moment, I could see doubt and a slight trace of panic bleed into her eyes as she stares impassively at me. I could see her wondering if her memory wiping spell had worked and the last thing I want right now is for her to check. I wouldn’t know how to fake that, so I decide to shift gears. I swallow the bitterness building up in my throat, and I assume the role of the weakling she wants me to be.

  I threw my hands over my mouth in wide-eyed surprise and rush over to where she stood, throwing my arms around her, “I-I’m sorry, Ryia. I don’t know why I just said that. I’m still so shaken up by the whole thing; I wasn’t thinking straight. I know everything you do is to protect me, to protect our family and you do such a great job.” I can feel the other woman inside me fuming at how easily I allowed myself to slip back into this role. I can tell she wants revenge. I can tell she’s out for blood, but I have to be careful and smart if I intend to change the rules of this game without them realizing it.

  I could tell the act worked when she heaves a deep sigh to calm herself. Ryia may well hate me too, but she also has to put on a show of sisterly love.

  Maybe I could use that to my advantage.

  “I’m sorry,” she eventually sighs, and I’m actually surprised. This job must really be important to her if she’s willing to apologize to me.

  I could definitely use that against her.

  “Rescuing you was my first priority and I completely forgot how weak your heart is it when it comes to these kinds of things. I’ll make tea to calm you down okay?” out of her White Witch habit, she smiles gently, easing me away from her before turning to walk out the door.

  If nothing else, what just happened between us, the fact that I can still tell the difference between this supposed Arcane witch and the previous White witch is definite proof that I’ve retained my memories. And the fact that the great Ryia; Guardian Witch, tasked with ruining my life does not seem to realize the truth means that I have a weapon within me.

  I have to keep this weapon hidden until it’s the right to wield it.

  Sure, it may be mentally and emotionally draining, but it’s a small price to pay, considering that doing so could lead me to discover the truth. It would be my way of silently avenging the ones who so bravely gave their lives for me.

  I may have to keep biting my lip and swallowing my words, but in the end, this is all just a game, and by remaining silent, I get to peek inside all their heads. I can see their plays before they make it if
I pay close attention to her words and her actions.

  It may not be what she wants. It may not be what I want but if this is the way to play the game and win; if this is the way to hide my weapon, then, for now, I’ll give Ryia and her beloved coven what they want.

  I make my way to the dining room when she called for me and sit across her to enjoy this sisterly tea time. I’m only half-listening as she makes chit-chats with me, and I continue to sip the warm and soothing chamomile tea she has prepared.

  The smell of it was enough to make me feel relaxed, but it will not calm the building determination in my chest.

  Nothing will.

  I stared at the clear brown liquid in my cup as it reflects my face.

  Wearing different kinds of masks, Ryia kept up her appearance of being the older daughter in the Alwyn family for years. She designed and wore her masks without me noticing any difference.

  I wonder... will she ever notice that I’ve started doing the same?

  After another sip, I looked straight into her eyes and gave her the sweetest smile I find.

  Oh, Ryia Alwyn. Tsk tsk…

  Will you be able to tell the difference between your sister who is long dead and the new one sitting before you? Birthed with knowledge of your treachery and out for your blood?

  I pick up the mask she’s designed for me, the one she’s establishing as we talk. I listen to the words and log them for future reference. I’ll play nice. I’ll be your weak Liliwen, Ryia.

  Smirk tugs on the edge of my lips as I slowly cover my face with the flesh of the false witch they created to trick me.

  Now, it’s time to play her in this game they created… and unlike her, I intend to win.

  Chapter 2

  The History in Smoke

  Ryia is taking me to the town library today.

  Once I step out of the front door, I can see a black tinted car waiting outside our steel gate.

  Ryia’s dark brown boots hit the walkway with impatience, and her thin moss green trench coat freely rides the wind as she hops into the car.

  Careful not to start the day with a pissed off Ryia, I quickly follow her.

  I hastily climb in and sit on the back seat and closed the door to start the journey.

  We’re heading to The Central. I don’t remember Ryia taking me out much in her former lives, so this is particularly telling. The Central is where all major establishments are: the hospital, the academy, the town library, the whole works. It’s always buzzing with activity even at nightfall. The lights never rest at the centre of the entire town. As we drive past the hustle and bustle in the streets, I can’t help but feel resentful. Everything still feels so normal. Everyone seems quite content to go about their daily lives, as though mine isn’t shedding dead skin and taking on a new life. As though brave men hadn’t been sacrificed last night for a cause, I still do not understand. As though the Penrhyn Mansion had not been torched by Ryia and her band of homicidal Arcane dipshits.

  EVERYTHING WAS JUST SO BLOODY NORMAL.

  The fire last night should have been enough to alert the whole town or at the very least get the authorities to respond. But I heard no sirens blaring in the night. I heard no wolves howling in the distance. Nothing… it all just looks like another ordinary day to these townspeople.

  It’s as if the burning flames and the thick smoke that lingered at the end of the town were the least of this town’s concerns.

  Ignorance truly is bliss.

  For the past few days, I’ve been isolating myself inside the four walls of the bedroom in the mansion. Maybe I should have just stayed there. It’s starting to feel like whenever I get the chance to be out, trouble inevitably follows.

  My eyes shift from the streets up to the rearview mirror, where I silently study Ryia’s face. I still don’t know the purpose of her bringing me along on this stale journey to the library.

  Though I suppose the chastisement she received for my disappearance would be reason enough. She was up for a promotion it seemed, and how well she can guard me, seems to be the determining factor.

  This will be a drag.

  The driver, who I can’t recognise, and Ryia are silently still on their seats, though I can’t be sure that they aren’t communicating.

  I wish I could tap into kinetic and telepathic waves just to find out. If the driver is also an Arcane Witch, they may very well be sending telepathic messages to each other without me knowing.

  The vehicle came into an abrupt halt between two tower-like lamps engraved with words in different languages.

  I was only able to decipher one of the words. ‘Knowledge’.

  In this world, it’s one of the things all beings crave, though no one seems to fancy visiting the place where it’s made readily available.

  I check the nearby buildings, and there’s a steady stream of people going in and out, but the library...It’s almost as if there’s some kind of ward around it that keeps people away.

  Outside, the building is walled with old dry stone and is filled with tall yet narrow arched glass windows. The centre is adorned with an enormous circular stained glass with a double door at its centre. There are some symbols I’m not familiar with.

  Looking at the whole structure from bottom to the top, I would estimate this old ass building to have at least four stories. At the back, a clock tower, painted in dirty yellow, proudly stands with an enormous bronze bell on top.

  If I depend on what memory I have right now, I’ve been to the Central maybe twice, but I don’t remember coming to the town library even once.

  Which is odd considering how much I crave knowledge… I think. The inner walls offer the charming proposition of comfortable silence. Magical beings are known to be pursuers of knowledge. With the multitude of families bearing magical blood ties living in this town, it is puzzling to me why such a grand edifice stands bare… void of human traffic.

  I refuse to believe I’ve never been here before, but I wouldn’t dare ask Ryia for fear of setting her off.

  “What are you doing standing there, idly?” Ryia scowls before making her way to the huge double door of the entrance, bidding them open without so much as lifting a finger.

  I follow behind her quickly, not saying a word.

  On the inside, there’s another door, and I stop almost immediately, staring at the substantial frame. Like the stained glass on the outside, it has many carved symbols around it, and in the middle, there is a gate-shaped carving split between the double doors.

  There is something familiar about all this. I can’t help but feel that they are speaking to me…telling me some kind of a story.

  I stepped in just before the door closes on its own. The loud thud echoes through the empty entrance hall which stretches like a lazy yawn to another double door.

  When we’re just a few meters from the door, Ryia makes a motion with her finger that opens both doors.

  I can’t help but gawp at the multiple floors lined with tall shelves that seem to be jutting directly from the wall. Just above us, there are books flapping around and papers seemingly synchronizing as they form floating shapes around the flying books.

  Oh, my days! This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!

  The spiral staircase that connected all the floors in the middle didn’t take up much space, but it was still a sight to behold. The intricate carvings on the rails appeal to something inside me.

  Curiosity got the best of me. I approach one of the glass cases and inside the case, the smoke forms into a dark forest where the moon shone. There’s a silhouette of a group forming a circle with someone in the centre. The circle glowed red and fog rose around them, and while I can’t be sure what they’re doing, something draws me back to the ball at the Penrhyn Mansion, and I instinctively know that it’s a ritual.

  The smoke then shifted to form a double door, the same shape of the one in the stained glass outside. The door opened and showed what I assume to be a place of abundant trees, rivers, mountains.
<
br />   “Paradise.”

  I was so immersed in the moving imagery that I didn’t notice someone appearing beside me. The owner of the voice smiles at me as a greeting. She has long, straight hazel-coloured hair and gentle doe eyes.

  “Paradise?” I ask her, still a bit startled by her sudden appearance.

  “Oh, that was Paradise, the one it showed in there,” her voice is about as thin as she is.

  “So, this one is showing the history of this Paradise?”

  Her eyes widened in surprise as if it was the first time she heard someone asked about it.

  “You don’t know about Paradise?”

  I shook my head.

  I know what it means, but something tells me there’s more to the term than just the dictionary definition. She suddenly had my full attention.

  “Paradise is a place of joy. Something a bit like heaven on earth. It’s usually implied that it’s a place, but according to ancient belief, it’s a whole other world.”

  She returns her gaze to the history show that looped itself back. I could see the same shapes and forms again.

  “As you can see, this tells the story of the people who tried to open the gate to that world. A ritual was held in that forest,” she points at the same first form I’ve seen in the case, “by these groups of people.”

  Seeing how the double door, which I now assumed to be the gate, opened, I raised the question.

  “Then, were they able to open it?”

  For a few moments, she looked at the smoke’s form of Paradise.

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Apparently, it’s incomplete,” she said with a flippant shrug.

  “Incomplete? Why?” I ask, completely rapt in her story. I don’t know why, but I need to know more about this Paradise and the people who tried to open the doors to get there.

  “Something more needs to happen,” she gave me a mysterious smile.

  I stared at the glass case, looking at the history in smoke playing in a loop. The speed of smoke’s transition gradually became faster. Faster and faster until I find myself in a different place.