The Witch’s Destiny

by Emma Glass

  “And the entire chrysm network is down?” I pounded a fist into the first countertop I saw that wasn’t covered in dials and switches. My fist bludgeoned the surface. “Is there truly no way for us to help? Nothing we can do?”

  She glanced idly over. “No, I didn’t say that…”

  * * *

  “I was under the impression this couldn’t work without the presence of a Craven,” I stared at the glowing portal of chrysm in the most sacred chamber of this hub, tucked out of sight. The burning ore swirled beneath our feet under a floor of thick glass as the chrysm gatekeeper stood nearby, personally guarding the barely-active portal.

  The senior attendant agreed. “Usually, that is the case. But the late Lorelei Craven foresaw certain... inevitabilities. In the event that the vampire lord is in danger and outside of the castle on official duty, an emergency override to the genetic requirement can be authorized. Only by whomever is currently the ruler of the castle, of course.”

  “Does Elliott knows about this?”

  “He does. I personally confirmed this earlier.”

  “By the way, almost forgot the second issue—aren’t the portals and nodes supposed to be completely offline? Why is this clearly, you know… working?”

  “We were able to salvage enough chrysmic power to send single vampire through the portal. However… Lord Craven required a much greater number.”

  “Was he aware of this?” I glared at her.

  “Yes. He chose to leave it in reserve.”

  “And why is that?”

  “In case of an unforeseen… emergency?”

  “You mean, in case he needed me.” I turned, glaring at the shimmering chrysm portal. “So, that’s why you put me in charge of the bloody castle, isn’t it? I would be left here, holding your single trump card. The one and only vampire who can activate it. Who you trust most. Clever, Elliott…”

  “I must warn you,” the attendant whispered. “There is only enough power for one teleportation.”

  “No, I get that.”

  “You might not understand. I mean—“

  “I told you, I get it,” I scowled. “This is a one-way trip, and there’s a solid chance I might never come back. I will probably die if I do this—either ripped apart by the portal itself, or torn to shreds by the wild beasts that will soon be rampaging through our greatest magical academy. Or am I missing anything?”

  “No, you… obviously understand the risk.”

  “I agreed to be the sworn guardian of the vampire lord of Stonehold,” I muttered bitterly as I stepped forward. “I was always aware of the risk.”

  “I must warn you,” the attendant whispered. “There is only enough power for one teleportation.”

  “No, I get that.”

  “You might not understand. I mean—“

  “I told you, I get it,” I scowled. “This is a one-way trip. If I go now, there’s a solid chance I might never come back. You will not be able to retrieve me from the other side. And I will probably die there. Or, did I miss something?”

  “No, you… obviously understand the risk.”

  “I agreed to be the sworn guardian of the vampire lord of Stonehold,” I muttered bitterly as I stepped towards the chrysm gatekeeper. “I was always aware of the risk.”

  She nodded gratefully, then granted a stern look to the chrysm gatekeeper. Retreating a few steps, she stood at my back to watch my impending teleportation.

  And to clean up the mess if I’m torn to shreds here…

  “Greetings, Vassal Kinsey,” the gatekeeper nodded. She turned to the glowing portal; its typical luster was weaker than usual, but the arch clearly radiated power. Just… not a whole lot of it. “Tell me—where would you like to go?”

  “Our lord needs me. Send me to Seven Portals.”

  The chrysm gatekeeper acknowledged that with a bow of her armoured head, then began to methodically weave her gauntleted fingers in intricate patterns; her arms lifted to play the air like a delicate instrument. I thought back to my childhood dream of being one of these special servants—they who weave shortcuts throughout the world, in a dance of the hands only they can understand…

  But I tore away my gaze from the beautiful nuances of her weaving arms and fingers. Another life, maybe. For now, I have work to do.

  The portal roared to life before me.

  As I walked into the glowing red field, I did not bother to look at either of them again; I needed to stay focused on the mission at hand. Never a dull moment with you, Elliott…

  Chapter 23

  Nikki

  Everything was a haze.

  My head felt empty without my dark whisper inside anymore. The sadistic presence in my mind now torn away from me, I felt so startlingly alone.

  So much so, I had barely focused on our enemy.

  But I listened now, staring up at her with burning rage. You made me kill my sister. You broke me. You took my mother. You brought Sabine back to life. Everybody I have lost these past few years… all that blood on my hands… and now you’ve taken the closest friend I’ve ever had, right out of my head?

  Everything—all of it—comes back to YOU.

  Tzavos Tzovac stood before us, leaning on her staff. “I will talk, and you will all listen. And you will choose.”

  “And if we do not want to?” The nomadic lord asked.

  Our enemy shrugged casually—it made my blood boil. “Then, your lives are beyond my power to save—and your world will collapse apart.”

  The others went deathly silent. Even my brother—still holding onto his beloved witch as if it made a difference—didn’t dare retort to such a chilling threat.

  But I couldn’t help myself.

  “So… I take it this is the part where you try and talk us all to death? Reveal your great, big plan? Try and get us to side with you, so we’ll just let you leave this prison? You said you needed the seven, and here we all are…”

  It felt good to snap at her, although the others stared.

  The elderly witch disagreed. “You misunderstand. This is not a convoluted appeal to your better senses, my child. My victory is complete. These are merely… negotiations.”

  “Negotiations?” Valentine balked. “For what?”

  Tzavos smiled. “The new world is here. I must decide which of you will have a place in it, and which of you will be left to perish in the flames of your mistakes…”

  * * *

  Tzavos’s cloak separated and whipped open, revealing a giant pair of tattered wings that stretched out from her back and lifted her upwards. As she floated above us on wings better suited for a massive bat, the terrifying witch held out her staff and benevolently studied us with a calm expression across her face. Oh, the things I would give to hear Wilhelm’s takeaway from this…

  “What in the world…“ Svetlana gasped.

  “The paradise you know is a lie,” Tzavos said bleakly. “It is an open, bleeding wound—as is each of the other six pretender realms. Together, they tear at the fabric of reality. Only the first realm, her realm—that of humans…”

  She turned to briefly acknowledge Clara.

  “…Is the real one. The others stifle it. If allowed to live, the false realms will crush the life of the only true one, and all will perish. I alone bear the knowledge to reunite all the realms into one, healing the wounds between realms. Fear of this wisdom led to my sealing in this ageless sanctum. We will not repeat their mistakes.”

  I stared up at the vampiric witch. Even if I might need to drive a dagger through your heart, those wings look pretty fun. Elliott finally released his grip on Clara’s shoulders and resigned himself to the obvious, taking a few casual steps towards me.

  “You speak nonsense,” Valentine said.

  Heads turned as he answered. “The Cataclysm.”

  “Yes,” Tzavos Tzovac somberly agreed, nodding softly. “The Cataclysm—that fateful night when humanity turned on its own magic. Sorcerers, witches, shamans, casters... all took it upon themselves
to rid their world of spellcraft. Even their own powers were sacrificed, setting the wheel in motion. They knew nothing of the consequences of their actions, nor the damage their reckless behavior wrought.”

  “But… why?” Lord Lovrić relaxed her pose. “I thought the humans might have wanted to keep magic, not discard it all. It doesn’t make any sense to me…”

  “It is true. Many adored the gift…” Tzavos conceded. “But humanity was not willing to understand the effects of magical abuse. They failed to predict—and coexist with—the paranormal creatures created by millennia of hubris. Lesser beasts roamed the world over; others rose in time, ones capable of challenging humanity for dominion. It was these who sparked a rebellion among spell-casters.

  “And so, a magical war began…”

  “…Ending in the Cataclysm,” Svetlana realized aloud.

  “They dispelled the natural magic off of their world—and one world became seven, each one a different society scattered to the wind. Humans had one world; vampires had another, and so on. Their folly left wounds in reality—wounds that would only deepen in time. If we were not together, we would have surely perished in blood and fire. Gathering my closest, most trustworthy allies, Vharkhen Vessius and Kartuuk Kai, I set about learning how to rejoin the realms from a castle that, much like the world itself, was deeply fractured across worlds.”

  “Seven Portals,” Lord Song noted in horror.

  “Together, we sought to instill order in a new world… and so we did. But I knew the worlds would die in time; I laboured day and night to reunite us. I invented countless spells in my quest until finally discovering a way to bind the worlds back together, many years later…

  “At the same time, my people adapted to a new world. With in-fighting and a cruel world, they desired new lives. They turned to ancient magic—and gave up much of their own power to become something lesser. I cannot fault this. They all faced extinction with no humans left.”

  “Why did the humans matter?” Lord Lovrić asked.

  Tzavos sighed. “…Because vampires were humanity.”

  * * *

  I listened in rapt fascination at that revelation.

  “Are you saying the Sanguine Ones were human?”

  Tzavos Tzovac didn’t answer at first. Her wings lightly flapped to hold her airborne, levitating above us. I felt an unmistakeable horror deep down inside me—not that the ancient witch looked terrifying, or that the things she told us were particularly alarming. I’m probably a minority when it comes to that opinion…

  No. It was so much worse.

  This was the first time I’d ever met something that I knew, at a single glance, I couldn’t kill. By comparison, the storm that we fought in Clara’s twisted little forest seemed closer to a child’s plaything.

  “Do you listen?” Tzavos asked her, taking another flap. “Do any of you? My generosity is kindness. I arm you all with knowledge so that you may choose. But in exchange, I demand your undivided attention.”

  “Don’t you worry,” Elliott snarled. “You have it.”

  Tzavos glanced over the rest. “He speaks for you all?”

  Everyone else shared looks and nodded… except one. Proud, bitter Lord Vasiliev, you are about to ruin this for the rest of us, all because you can’t bring yourself to—

  “He does,” she scowled. “He speaks for us all.”

  Hmph. Well. That’s… progress.

  Tzavos nodded, accepting this. She opened her arms.

  “You think yourselves vampires. This is a mistake. The number of vampires was fiercely diminished in the battles that led to the Cataclysm, and the chaos that followed. You are dhampirs—vampires who relinquished immortality and great power to procreate and thrive here in your ‘paradise’. Half-vampire and half-human, you enjoy power over your brethren only because you are those closest to the original vampiric bloodlines. I suspect that the other worlds were forced to make similar compromises... such is survival.”

  This was all so much to take in. Although I was furious that we were listening to her… This is the only link to the old world we’ve ever had. If even half of this is true, all the gaps in our history are being filled out, even as she speaks…

  “My beloved children…” Tzavos observed gently. “You have braved much chaos to come here. Your world suffers. It cries out in agony. But worry not, my progeny. I am here to soothe its pain. Can you hear it… Chandra?”

  The lord of Alevorra gasped, taking a step backwards. “How do you know my name?”

  “I know all of you… don’t I, Ooktuk?”

  He stayed perfectly still, watching her in disdain.

  “As I also know your worries… Valentine.”

  The stiff matronly lord near me straightened upright. “What do you know of our struggles? Of the Wastes?”

  “So many mouths to feed,” Tzavos motioned gently. “In earlier millennia, your world was empty of resources. Forever were we all the hunted—and not the hunters. But this does not describe your life… does it, Eislachfair?”

  “Who?” Chandra asked.

  We steadily turned to Eyes-Like-Fire, who trembled in her anger behind us. “Nobody knows the true names of the Timberlands Plains lords. It is forbidden,” she insisted. “How can you know these things?”

  “Your stories are open books to me… Svetlana.”

  The lord of the Drenchlands glowered. “You cannot be an omnipotent creature. Such is impossible. Your name all but disappeared from our history thousands of years ago…”

  “Believe what you wish,” Tzavos shook her head. “But it matters not. Inevitability always comes. Objectivity shall not be swayed by mere belief. We can never truly change the natural course. Isn’t that right… Elliott?”

  He narrowed his eyes darkly. “You lie.”

  “Deceiving you serves me no purpose. I wish to only correct a great cosmic mistake—before it is too late. I want only what saves you all. Don’t you see…?”

  The old witch turned to me…

  And she frowned.

  * * *

  My brother was quick to take notice of this hesitation. His face broke into a sly smile. “Well, that’s interesting… What’s her name, Tzavos?”

  The strange reverie of the others broke. Curiously, they turned to face the creature beating its old wings above us. United by curiosity, their faces grew steadily suspicious.

  Even I began to smirk.

  “…You really don’t know, do you?” Elliott relished the victory, folding his arms. “You want me to believe you’ve planned for every single eventuality,” he jabbed his thumb my way, “and you don’t even know her name? How does that fit into your inevitability?”

  Tzavos turned to Sabine. “She is unmarked.”

  “I tried to mark her, Master. It worked on the one that I slew! I do not understand why this didn’t take with her…” Sabine lowered her face in a glare, staring at me.

  “You brought an unmarked dhampir to me?”

  “It was a mistake. I thought the marking worked!”

  “I think I’ve heard enough,” I noted dryly.

  My brother agreed. “Me too. You weave an interesting tale, Tzavos. It even makes for a compelling argument. But your words don’t change the fact that Clara Blackwell saw visions of the Calamity. Your knowledge of this moment is incomplete; your prophecy is flawed. Upon your return, there will be no world left to rule. You are as much a threat as these ‘wounds’ you want to heal…”

  “And what did your Clara see?”

  “The same thing that drove my mother into madness, looking beyond the Pierced Veil. Destruction and chaos. A bloodbath across reality. Worlds collapsing onto each other in a terrible war you clearly cannot possibly comprehend. The human world alone is filled with billions. It possesses destructive weapons beyond your wildest nightmares… I have seen their destructive potential with my own eyes—entire cities, leveled in an instant. When that power mixes with magic like ours, and especially magic like yours…”


  Tzavos nodded gravely. “There will be casualties.”

  “You are an excellent protector,” I snarked.

  “I would allow billions to die so that many could live,” the bat witch acknowledged. “The alternative is complete obliteration as the realms burn together.”

  “Exactly what will happen if we let you escape,” Elliott defiantly replied. “You know what doesn’t help your case? Just how long you have been pulling strings and picking us off, one by one…”

  “Let us not be brash,” Valentine warned him.

  “Brash?” He whirled around. “Are you kidding—“

  “It is true,” Tzavos replied in another flap of her wings. “I have directed each of you to meet here, as many of you whom I could. Unfortunate but noble sacrifices were made to arrange this meeting. None were made in malice.”

  “Our friends aren’t sacrifices,” Svetlana retorted.

  “Call them what you wish. I call them… regrettable.”

  With that, Tzavos descended back into our midst. She curled her wings once again—reforming the worn, tattered cloak around her robes. It was easy, seeing her like this, to forget that she was just floating above us like some sort of diabolical vampire bat witch.

  Resting her hands over her staff once more, the oldest witch in our world history looked kindly among us. “The time has arrived, my children. You must now choose your place. Rule over the rightful world I call back to life…

  “Or be swept away in the chaos.”

  * * *

  We looked among each other. Our minds were made up. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t think we’re going to take you up on that little offer,” Elliott informed her coldly.

  Tzavos looked visibly disheartened.

  “Realize, my children, that by making an enemy of me, you are trying to extinguish all of Creation as we know it. In other words… oppose me, and you oppose the world.”

  “Tzavos Tzovac…” Svetlana sighed, stepping forward. “You misunderstand. None of us wish to risk the safety of the worlds. But we trust in our friend. Together, we believe what Clara Blackwell has told us—and we believe in the heart and motivations of the vampire lord you so callously extinguished. To that end… I oppose you entirely.”