The room trembled as the surge of magic rippled outward. The wind that burst from Faith and Athyst’s joined hands swirled like a contained storm, rattling plates and silverware, sending a shiver through the very walls of the dining hall. Serena instinctively leaned back, gripping the edge of her chair, while Derick reached for the dagger strapped beneath his coat—though what good a blade would do against witchcraft, he didn’t know.
Athyst’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart thumped violently as her vision blurred at the edges, colors saring together like wet paint. She tried to yank her hand back, but Faith’s grip was firm—unshakable. The witch wasn’t even looking at her. Faith’s glowing red eyes stared straight ahead, completely unfocused, as if she were seeing sothing beyond the walls of the castle.
"Faith?" Serena whispered, concern creeping into her voice.
Faith didn’t respond.
Instead, the world around Athyst began to lt away.
Her surroundings faded, first the dining table, then the walls, then Serena’s worried face until everything was swallowed by a thick, rolling darkness.
"W-Wait—!" Athyst’s voice echoed into the void, but she couldn’t hear herself. She felt weightless and suspended. The air tasted strange, cold, tallic.
Then, suddenly...
She dropped.
Athyst gasped as her feet landed on sothing solid. She stumbled forward, catching herself just in ti. The darkness thinned, dissolving like mist under sunlight, and she found herself standing on a rocky cliffside.
A chill ran down her spine.
She recognized this place.
This was the cliff where she had been found unconscious—the cliff where she had nearly died.
A pale fog hugged the jagged stones, drifting in slow waves across the surface. The sky was still dark, the faintest glow of dawn barely touching the horizon. The wind here felt sharper, colder, heavier.
Athyst hugged her arms around herself. "Why am I here again?" she whispered.
A soft, calm voice spoke behind her.
"You’re not here physically, Princess."
Athyst spun around.
Faith stood a few feet away, though her figure looked faint like a projection, a reflection caught in water.
"This is your mory," Faith said softly. "I’ve entered your mind to retrieve what your eyes saw that morning."
Athyst swallowed hard. "I don’t rember anything."
"You don’t consciously," Faith corrected. "But your mind does. mories never truly vanish. They only hide."
Athyst opened her mouth to reply, but a movent in the fog caught her eye. A blurred figure herself standing near the cliff edge.
The sight made her stomach twist.
"Is that... ?"
"Yes," Faith said, stepping forward. "We are witnessing your past."
They watched as Athyst, her past self—stood facing the horizon. But sothing was different. Her body was stiff, her posture too still, her eyes glassy and unfocused.
"She’s under a spell," Faith murmured. "A powerful one. This wasn’t just sleepwalking or confusion."
Athyst’s heart quickened. She stepped closer to observe her past self more clearly.
"What kind of spell?"
"A directive spell," Faith said. "One that compels the victim to walk sowhere without questioning it. The kind that forces your feet to move even when your mind is screaming to stop."
A shiver ran down Athyst’s spine. "Then... I didn’t walk here on my own."
"No," Faith whispered. "Soone brought you here. And that soone wanted you dead."
The wind howled suddenly, sharp enough to sting their skin. It whipped Athyst’s hair wildly, and the fog thickened as if reacting to the mory.
Then the sound of footsteps echoed behind them, quiet, swift, purposeful.
Athyst turned instinctively.
But she couldn’t see a face.
She couldn’t even see a full body.
The figure remained wrapped in shadows, the fog swirling around her like a cloak. Only the outline of a woman was visible, small, slender, and graceful in a chilling way. Faith eyes narrowed as her stature looked sowhat similar to hers.
Her steps were nearly silent.
"She’s the one," Faith whispered.
The woman in the fog moved closer to Athyst’s past self. She extended her hand, long fingers, delicate but unnervingly strong. Her nails were sharp, almost claw-like. She reached out and gently touched the back of Athyst’s neck.
The mory-Athyst didn’t react. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t move.
"She reinforced the spell," Faith explained. "Making sure you couldn’t resist. Even if you wanted to."
Athyst could feel her own pulse pounding in her ears as she watched.
Then the woman drew her hand back.
And that was when Athyst saw it.
The fog shifted, just a little and the woman’s sleeve slid up her arm, revealing her wrist.
There, etched into her pale skin, was a tattoo.
A serpent.
Black as ink, coiled tightly with its head raised, fangs bared, and eyes shaped like diamonds. The serpent’s body wrapped elegantly around the woman’s wrist, as though alive.
Athyst inhaled sharply. "A serpent..."
Faith’s glowing red eyes focused on the tattoo with frightening intensity.
"That symbol," Faith said slowly, "belongs to a very old coven. One that was thought to be extinct."
Athyst tore her gaze from the tattoo to look at Faith. "Who are they?"
Faith didn’t answer imdiately.
Instead, the mory continued.
The woman finally spoke, her voice low, silky, and cruel.
"Fall."
She didn’t shove Athyst’s past self hard. It wasn’t a rough push. It was a gentle tap—barely more than a touch, sothing that would seem harmless.
But the enchantnt did the rest.
Athyst’s past body tilted forward. Her feet moved without her control, stepping closer and closer to the cliff edge.
"No—no—no!" Athyst cried out, rushing forward, though she knew she couldn’t change the mory.
Faith grabbed her arm. "Princess don’t! You can’t interfere with the past."
Athyst watched helplessly as her past self stepped off the cliff.
The wind roared.
Her stomach dropped.
A scream tore through the air but it wasn’t Athyst’s past self.
It was her.
Her present voice echoing through the mory.
She watched herself fall into darkness, her body limp, completely unconscious. Her heart hamred painfully as the mory faded, dissolving into smoke.
The woman with the serpent tattoo stayed for just a mont longer, standing at the cliff’s edge. She brushed her fingers through her hair, turning slightly as if sensing sothing.
For a second, just one Athyst thought she saw a partial glimpse of the woman’s profile. A sharp jawline. Full lips. A cold, beautiful expression. That profile looked oddly familiar.
Then everything vanished.
---
The world spun violently, and in the blink of an eye, Athyst was back in the dining hall.
She gasped and stumbled backward, ripping her hand away from Faith’s. Her lungs burned as she sucked in air. Sweat dampened her forehead. Her heart pounded as if still falling from that cliff.
Serena rushed to her side instantly. "Athyst! Are you alright?"
"I—I saw it," Athyst whispered, her voice trembling. "I saw the whole thing..."
Derick knelt beside them. "What happened? What did you see?"
Athyst’s hands shook uncontrollably. "A woman. She brought there. She touched . She made walk to the cliff. I wasn’t even awake. I couldn’t fight it. I—"
Faith placed a hand on Athyst’s shoulder, grounding her.
"I saw it too," the witch said quietly. Her voice was unusually serious. "She wasn’t just any witch. She was trained. Skilled in magic and witch craft. And she belongs to a place that should be extinct, she’s very skilled, it’ll take a while before we can catch her."
Serena swallowed. "What does that an?"
Faith t their eyes—her expression grim.
"She has a serpent tattoo on her wrist, she follows orders from soone."
Derick froze. Even he had heard the stories. Ancient witches. Forbidden magic. Won who specialized in assassinations disguised as accidents.
Athyst felt her blood turn to ice. "She tried to kill ..."
"Yes," Faith murmured, her red eyes dimming back to their normal shade. "And she’ll try again."
The room grew silent.
A heavy, suffocating silence.
Faith stood, her expression firm and calculating. "She’s powerful. Very powerful. But she made a mistake."
"What mistake?" Derick asked.
Faith’s eyes darkened.
"She left a signature behind—the serpent tattoo. And that tattoo... marks her rank."
Athyst stared at her. "What rank?"
Faith looked at her with a mixture of fear and certainty.
"High-ranking. Almost a Commander."
Serena gasped softly.
Derick’s expression hardened.
Athyst’s throat tightened.
Faith continued, "This was not a random attack. Soone hired her."
Athyst felt a cold knot form in her stomach. "But why ? I’ve never hard anyone."
Faith shook her head slowly. "This wasn’t about who you hard or you yourself, it’s about the king and the person tried to get to the king through you. "
She leaned closer, her voice dropping.
"My brother? Who would do such a thing?"Athyst asked. "Is it the sa person who tried to harm lady Serena?" she asked again almost imdiately.
Faith nodded.
Derick sighed. "The king has a lot of enemies, unfortunately this one is going too far. We need to speed things up to capture whoever is doing this before he goes too far." he said.
"Yes but right now I need to rest, I’ve used enough magic for today." Faith said, she turned around and walked out of the cafeteria.
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