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I gave her the applause she deserved for her demonstration. Hearing about her progress was one thing, but seeing it displayed in front of me confirmed that she was in fact advancing beautifully.
Maybe the book did bind itself to her. Maybe it sensed her magic blocked off from years of unuse and reignited it like a dying flame that needed kindling to roar back to life. If a witch remained untrained and her magic was never used, after a few years she could've lost her magic altogether. But the book saved her traits from expiring.
"Well done, my dear. Helios told me you were improving and now I got to see it for myself."
"You would've gotten to see it sooner if you were the one to train me instead of Helios," Antonia countered.
"Oh? You would've preferred my teachings rather than Helios?"
She took a bite of her stacked food before speaking. "Actually no, I enjoy Helios' teachings. He's been great, but since you were the one who was so insistent on me learning magic to begin with, I thought you would've been the one to do it."
"And I bet you're wondering why I pushed for you to learn magic, correct?" I asked, watching intently to gage her reaction.
The hand froze before she could take another bite of food as my question sank in. Frowning, she set it back down and wiped off the bits of crumb that stuck to her dress. "I've been wondering a lot of things, obviously, but you never seem too keen on answering any of my questions."
"Like what?"
"Why save me from burning to death? Why the binding contract? Why is me learning magic so important to you? Why bring me here when you knew that doing so could put your leadership over the Court of Wrath, and possibly your life, in jeopardy? Why me?"
And so, it began.
"I knew your ancestor; the first witch of your bloodline," I said.
"My great-great-grandmother."
I nodded. "Her name was Marisol DeLuna. You look just like her, you know."
"I gathered," Antonia uttered flatly. "The book, the Necronomicon, the first day I started learning magic, it called to me. It showed me visions of what I assume were the Salem witch trials. I saw a woman who looked like me holding a baby, and you appeared in her home. It almost looked like she was waiting for you."
"She was," I admitted, knowing exactly the time she was talking about. It also confirmed that the book did choose to bind itself to Antonia, otherwise she wouldn't have known about me and Marisol.
Even though alcohol had no effect on me, I still took a sip of my wine needing the illusion of alcohol courage before I told her the history of her ancestor and the relationship I shared with her. "How much do you know about the witch trials?"
Antonia's eyes darkened. "It happened in sixteen-ninety-two, if memory serves me correctly. The fears of witchcraft spread because of several unfortunate events. Diseases, misfortunes, crops, and livestock dying, you name it. When people couldn't find a valid explanation, they thought of witchcraft."
"Very true," I said, sliding my chair back and standing up. I walked around as my mind drifted back to the awful time and relayed the events through my eyes. "I will not deny that witchcraft did exist in those times, but not in the way the villagers believed it so. The purpose of my involvement was for young village women to study herbs and potions for medicinal purposes. For others, it was a means of protecting themselves. The men who worshipped God back then were not as holy as they perceived."
"Neither are the men in today's society," Antonia said.
"Right again, which shows their lack of evolution. Or rather, their refusal to learn from their mistakes. As you've seen from your time with your husband and his comrades, their religious faith is nothing more than a dictatorship to push their own wicked desires onto others. The men back in the sixteen-hundreds were no different. Many women fell victim to their abuse and torment and called it God's ways. It was how I first connected with Marisol DeLuna."
"What happened?" Antonia asked, turning around to face me as I paced back and forth in the center of my room.
"She was headstrong and fierce but was powerless in the hands of men. She called to me after being brutally raped by the reverend, and discovered she was now carrying his child."
"What?" The shock came off as a whisper.
I stole a quick glance to see her eyes were turning glassy with unshed tears. It was how Marisol looked when she first summoned me before her.
"I appeared, and she begged for my help. She knew once the reverend found out about the child, he would try and silence her by any means. Or worse, try and steal the baby from her. She asked for a way to protect her and her unborn child since she felt God had forsaken her when the reverend sullied her."
"So, you offered her the chance to learn witchcraft," Antonia said as the first strands of tears rand down her pink-tinted cheeks.
"I did." I nodded. "But for someone not born with the ability to wield magic, a price needed to be paid. I asked for her soul, which meant she would never be welcomed in Heaven after her passing. Not only that, but the dark essence I'd grant her to wield magic would forever be passed on to her bloodline. She knew the risks, and she accepted the terms nonetheless."
Antonia was deathly silent, processing what I'd revealed to her so far and unsure how to react to it. She was finally getting answers about her family bloodline, her legacy, and it all began in darkness. I had asked Marisol many times during her studies if she ever regretted her decision, especially once the bastard child was born, but she said no. All she wanted was to protect her child, no matter what consequences befell her.
"What's going through your mind, little witch?" I asked when the silence held on for too long.
