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“Okay,” she agreed, as she lifted her hand, which was curled into a fist, and after a few moments of hesitation, she knocked on the door.
Chapter Twelve
Lilith
As Adrian and I stood before the door to the witch’s hut, my heart was beating inside my throat, making it increasingly more difficult to breathe. I was filled with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. Then suddenly, after what seemed to take forever, the door opened with a slow creak, revealing its interior.
The dim light from within spilled out onto the forest path and our feet. Standing in the doorway was the witch herself, Lorna, oozing mystery and wisdom. Her presence exuded an air of ancient knowledge, and her eyes held a depth that seemed to peer into the very soul of those she encountered. There was no smile on her face upon seeing us, no mark revealing whether she recognized us or not.
She was dressed in flowing robes that seemed to merge seamlessly with the natural surroundings. Her hair, long and silver like the glow of the moon itself, cascaded down her back. Her skin bore the intricate lines of age, etched with the memory of all the things she had seen in her lifetime. She seemed the same as the last time I saw her, and yet, different. I couldn’t explain it. Luckily, I didn’t need to, because she stepped aside, allowing us in.
“Welcome,” she said simply, as we entered.
The doors closed behind us with a loud noise this time, resembling the sound of sealing one’s fate. The interior of the hut was an eclectic mix of artifacts, herbs and curious objects. Little by little, my memory recognized the shelves, the cauldron, the windows, the table where I sat ages ago, seeking her help. I recognized the jars of herbs and potions, the hanging dried plants and roots. The scent of earth and magic permeated the air, filling the space with an otherworldly aura.
When she and I locked eyes, I could see an understanding on her face that seemed to stretch far beyond our presence in that moment.
“It has been some time since I last saw you, Queen Lilith,” Lorna spoke with a soothing, ageless melody that provided comfort. “Tell me, why have you come to seek my council once more?”
Adrian and I exchanged a glance, our hearts unified in this quest for answers. His eyes told me to explain everything. “We are here because of a mysterious scroll, one my father has been holding onto, which I now found, after his death.”
“My deepest condolences,” the witch bowed her head solemnly. “I have crossed paths several times with your father. He was a good man.”
“Thank you,” I replied, feeling a pang deep inside my heart. In all this commotion, I did not even have enough time to mourn the death of my father properly. Being reminded that he was no longer with us was still an open wound that hurt horribly.
“Tell me more about this scroll,” the witch inquired, as she gestured at us to take a seat at her table that rested in the very center of the room. Once again, memories flooded my mind and I remembered why I was here the first time, how I almost lost Adrian then.
“It contains references to a hidden past. We wish to know if there is any truth to these words, and if so, what we should do,” I explained as best as I could.
Lorna nodded in understanding, her presence calming and reassuring. “I see… to unravel such mysteries, I will need to see the scroll myself. Have you brought it here?”
Adrian retrieved the scroll from his backpack and carefully handed it to the witch. As she unrolled it, her eyes seemed to trace the text with an intimate familiarity. Both Adrian and I watched in silence, waiting to hear what she would say. Suddenly, a faint furrow appeared on her brow.
She inhaled deeply before speaking. “The scroll speaks of a kinship between Adrian and Constantine. To verify such a claim, I will need to use my ancient powers of insight and knowledge.”
The witch closed her eyes, her hands hovering over the scroll, and began to chant a soft, melodic incantation. The room seemed to hum with a subtle energy as she delved into the hidden truths of the scroll. When she opened her eyes, it seemed that she had come to certain conclusions.
“The scroll’s claim is not without merit,” we listened to her words. “But I cannot be certain without comparing their essences.”
“Our essences?” Adrian frowned. “How are you going to do that?”
She gazed at him. “Something that is essentially yours. Blood, piece of skin.”
“Hair?” I asked.
“No,” she shook her head. “Hair is dead. It cannot show what I need to know.”
“So, you need my blood and Constantine’s to know for sure?” Adrian asked something we were both thinking.
“Yes, that is right,” Lorna nodded calmly.
Adrian got up, shaking his head. “Then, we’ve come all the way here for nothing. We don’t know any more than we did when we started.”
I turned my gaze to Lorna. “We need to bring you Constantine’s blood?” I asked incredulously.
“That is a suicide mission,” Adrian scoffed. “You know that, right?”
Lorna didn’t say anything, although it was obvious that we were desperate for her guidance. Silently, she rose from her seat, her movements deliberate and imbued with a sense of knowledge that we were not privy to. She walked to one of the cupboards, her steps whispering against the earthen floor. From within the cupboard, she retrieved an old, ornate jar containing a dark, mysterious liquid.
