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Lanias nodded as she crossed her arms. “Yes, before they would only take women who had trace amounts of magic, their magical veins would be easier to open. But now they are taking anyone who has any or some blood relationship with a witch, even if they are fully human by our standards.”
“It’s almost like, they don’t care as long as the women are in some way blood related to a witch. Then again the prophecy did mention a woman, a daughter. Right?”
Lanias nodded, “Do you think in their search for her, they are kidnapping all witch related females and by default also supplying whoever is doing the experiments?”
“That could be it,” Oye agreed. “The witches who are being experimented on are just like complimentary prizes that come with your initial purchase. In their search for this particular female, we can assume that they decided to use them to attempt creating a numb witch.”
“Despicable,” Lanias muttered, her hands curled into a fist at her side. Her body trembled, “How could something like this happen under my watch.” She gritted out. “I swore that no witch, no female would ever suffer what we had and yet, and yet—”
Oye watched her, before she released a sigh. “You can’t take all the blame. We all wanted peace to last, we wanted to safely live out our lives in the world you imagined. I’m sure the other witches don’t blame you for any of this,” she said as she drew her gaze up to the Nerium.
“They don’t have to,” Lanias said, a bit calmer. She looked up as well, “I blame myself.”
“You shouldn’t, I know more than anyone else where that kind of thinking leads you.” Oye said, her voice soft and sad.
Lanias took in her dark expression and nodded. “You’re right, the only thing I can do is move forward.”
Oye met her gaze, offering her a sad smile.
“Ever forward.”
MASK
CASTIAN
Castian stared at himself in the mirror the next morning and felt a great fear seize his body. The blue eyes, blonde locks and clean-shaven face took him aback. For a second, he could pretend that he wasn’t him anymore. He was the man from his past, the one who’d been so sure of himself so many years ago.
The man before him knew nothing of failure and betrayal. He knew nothing of what it meant to be consumed by darkness.
“Man, I know you’re wearing Torik’s face, but it oddly suits you.”
Pulled from his mental prison, he leaned down splashing water onto his face. Grabbing a towel from the hanger, he quickly dried it.
“Don’t be stupid,” he said, turning to face Malcolm who’d come to drop off the packet with his fake ID’s and paperwork. The other man leaned against the doorjamb eyeing him. “Then again, this face has seduced a lot of women.”
Malcolm rolled his eyes when he heard this. “Don’t be revolting. We’ve gotten everything you’ll need in the human world. We’ve even added a vial of water with mercury so that you’ll be able to manipulate it like Torik since his medium is water.”
“Has it been tested?” Castian asked as he walked past him to the yellow packet left on his bed. He turned it over; six palm size vials fell out. Picking one up, he shook it.
Malcolm turned around. “Raijin said he’d leave it to you to try it out. It’s interesting Warlock, how you wear so many accessories and yet your living arrangements are so empty.”
“And I suppose you think of this place as a home to be decorated?” Castian asked, tossing the vial down. He walked over to his closet, “I’m not like you Malcolm, I may be mad, but I know very well what our stance in this world is.”
He jerked the doors open and reaching inside he pulled out his jacket and grabbed a shirt from the top shelf. “There is little point in pretending otherwise.” He tossed his clothes onto the bed, and turned to face Malcolm. “Any minute I could lose, and die somewhere. Every time we were sent to handle an issue the Council was sorely incapable of handling; my life was put on the line. Mercenaries don’t require a home.”
The amusement in Malcolm’s expression fled, his eyes turning stormy. “I haven’t forgotten Castian. I know better than anyone who we are, and why we exist. I just don’t want to become some dead eyed killer; I would like to believe we’ve done what we did for a reason. For freedom.”
“Freedom?” Castian scoffed, turning away. His now-blue eyes turned cold like chips of sapphire. “There is nothing about our life that’s free. We ‘re hired guns for the council, owned and tied to the whimsy of a cunning fox demon. No more, no less. The best thing I have is not love, nor happiness, just this and…” he trailed off.
“If Raijin can find something more, then it isn’t too farfetched for me to think I can do the same,” Malcolm argued.
Castian jerked his head up to retort, but the door was already shutting behind the retreating werewolf.
“More?” Castian shook his head. “Maybe for you.” He glanced at the single metal box on the shelf near the window. “Yeah for you there may be more.”
With that he turned his attention to finishing up getting dressed. Once done he grabbed up his packed duffle bag. Casting one more look around his nearly empty apartment he headed out. As far as he was concerned this was his last time being here.
OYE
