Does he know what happened to me?
“I wonder… Why does your sister want you to be forever twenty-five? Or at least, wants to make you believe you’re twenty-five?”
My sister? I didn’t say anything at all about my sister just now…he definitely knows something… more than I do, no doubt.
The ritual he said he instigated might have something to do with what my sister has been doing to me. But wouldn’t that mean that we’ve met before?
Who exactly are you, Bran?
He had been nothing but a mystery to me from the first time we met.
Though, the rhetoric in his inquiry brought a realisation.
There’s something behind the way he asked it that gave me an idea I already considered but did not want to accept.
I missed the chance to ask how he knew about my sister tampering with my memories when I decided to protect her actions to him instead.
“Whatever you’re trying to imply, that’s not it. I’m sure there’s a good reason.”
I sure as hell hope so.
He scoffed at my frail attempt.
“Spare me your defence. Of course, you’ll still stand up for her. You treat her as your sister. But is that really how it is?”
That’s not right. That can’t be right.
“What do you mean?”
It’s one thing to imply my sister has been lying to me, but to say that she’s not my sister.
It might be the entire truth I am looking for, but he’s not going to give it to me so quickly or easily.
With a wicked grin, he answered my unasked question.
“Would you like to find out?”
Chapter 2
Catalyst
For the first time since being brought here, I’m able to muster up the strength to go outside.
Bran wanted to bring the conversation somewhere else. Somewhere that would allow me to have a better grasp of the situation.
After what looked and felt like a trip through a maze, we ended up in the theatre room. It’s a small but luxurious version of a cinema.
The five-line of seats are filled with royal couches having red opulent fabric and gold detailing. The floor is covered with red carpet while the low ceiling is decorated with small chandeliers which capture the light’s reflection. The full white screen in front seemed perfectly new in comparison to the rest of the room.
As intimidating as the room seemed, I didn’t feel out of place despite my inexperience with opulence. If anything, it felt familiar.
“Take any seat you fancy. Get comfortable because this will be a spectacular film,” Bran gestured to the seats, which appeared to only welcome royalty.
“You could also take the front row if you’d like.”
“Why are we here?”
“Well, you’d like to find out the truth, right? Or at least confirm your suspicions?”
I took the seat in the middle of the last row. Bran settled on the seat to my left.
I threw a sideways glance at him as I tried to figure out his intentions.
“The show is about to start.”
With a finger snap, a count down from five appeared on the white screen.
I turned behind me to look for the projector, but there isn’t one. What he’s doing is most likely magic. He’s probably a wizard or something.
The scene opens with the back of a woman.
She’s wearing a black lace dress that hugs her figure, matched with a pair of daring high-heels that spoke of the confidence and pride of the woman strutting in them as they came into contact with the dark marble floor. Her long blond hair was held in a high ponytail. Her fair skin was highlighted with the contrasting colour of the black velvet hand gloves that covered until her elbows. Even without seeing her face, her whole aura shouted dignified and confident.
She gave a few knocks on the elegantly carved door. It opened to reveal another tall woman painted with heavy makeup and dressed in a floral blouse paired to a black pencil skirt that outlined her curves. Her noticeable red tear-shaped earrings demanded attention as they hung from her ears, almost reaching the string of pearls draped around her neck. She is thin with prominent cheeks she gestured for the lady in black to come in. The camera follows the lady in black as she walked toward the table, still not revealing her face.
On the table, she drops the white folder I hadn’t realised she was holding.
Perhaps she used a spell for a secret container. I have heard of witches who, not wanting to show what they brought with them, used spells that allow for a hidden secret box.
The view pans out to the face of the person sitting by the table, both elbows resting on it as his fingers were clasped in front of him. I immediately recognised his face, wrinkled with old age, a sideway-combed grey hair, and a mole in his jaw... it’s the Minister of Defence, Cillian Sullivan.
What is this about?
Is this some sort of a film featuring the Minister of Defence himself?
I didn’t know he had the time to be doing acting jobs on the side. By all accounts, I’ve been killed at least three times. Maybe his time would be better spent focusing on things like that.
“I admire your audacity, still showing your face despite your colossal failure,” his eyes narrowed on the figure in front of him.
He took the folder and scanned through it before throwing it aside.
“I wouldn’t neglect my other duties, sir,” the woman in black had a familiar voice… a very familiar voice.
I didn’t have time to think about it when the camera had revealed her face.
It’s Ryia.
“What’s going on?” I asked Bran without taking my eyes off of her.
“You’re watching a live broadcast of what’s happening inside Minister Sullivan’s office. Amazing, isn’t it?” he had his usual grin as his eyes were still set on the screen.
“You do realise this will affect your evaluation, don’t you, Ryia?” the Minister’s voice was nothing less than demeaning.
“I do, sir.” Ryia never returned the condescending gaze of the older man.
I’ve never seen her eyes cast down so low. She usually faced people head-on no matter who they were. But this time, despite how confident she looks, there was a hint of fear in her.
I knew she said she was working with the Minister of Defence as she mentioned it the last time we talked to each other, but I had assumed that it was only a show… something to go along with her act of being an Arcane Witch.
“Your job, guarding the Catalyst Witch- was your only ticket into becoming a full-fledged Arcane Witch,” the Minister shook his head in disappointment, “and yet you blew it spectacularly by losing track of her.”
Catalyst Witch... there it was again.
It was the same term Ryia used to refer to me before.
Instantly I knew they were talking about me.
Her job was to guard me. But why did she need to guard me?
Ryia’s jaw visibly tensed.
“Did you recall her memories before you performed the ritual?” his unfeeling tern eyes did not leave her for a moment.
“I did. As usual, we talked about what happened during the whole year before I proceeded with the ritual. It helped me determine which part of her memories needs to change in order for me to perform.”
As usual?
Does it mean the fond sisterly look she gave me while we chatted about the things that happened were just a part of her yearly prep routine for the ritual?
Was there ever a genuine thing she did for me?
“And the ritual?”
“It went smoothly.”
The older man cocked an eyebrow, not convinced with her immediate answer.
“Are you sure? There must have been a slip on your side that made her run away.”
“No, sir. I believe someone took her. The broken back door is evidence of this,” this time, she is staring back at him.
“So, you believe she still doesn’t know anything?” his eyes narrowe
d on her as though trying to shovel its way into her soul and strip away the fluff to find the truth.
“Yes. I wiped her memories clean. Nothing in her memory of last year was deemed worthy of being retained.”
Well, excuse me.
She didn’t consider any of my memories to be important, so she erased them all?
Well, perfect fake sister, you bloody well failed this time!
The tears welled up in my eyes and threatened to fall.
I didn’t want to seem weak, especially when I had already suspected that her lies were greater than I could imagine.
I should’ve known the truth would be a bitter pill to swallow.
She obviously has no idea that there was a glitch in the ritual.
I can still remember how surprised I was to get an invitation to a grand ball for the first time, and how horrifying it was to be in that ritual circle.
If this explains what Ryia has been doing to me, he still has to answer for what he did at the ball.
“Then can you explain to me,” my eyes were, again, on the screen, “why she’s still missing?”
Ryia’s hands closed into a fist. I can tell she’s struggling to keep up her defence in the situation.
“I am doing my best to figure it out. I have already alerted all the Guardian Witches around to find any signs of her and instructed them to report to me as soon as she’s found.”
So, she had been looking for me. If only it were for the right reason.
“The current circumstance just shows how you and the likes of you are very much incompetent. A Guardian Witch like you should know better than to take her eyes off her subject. What was the whole point of putting you beside her to act as her sister when you don’t do your damn job?”
Well, that just about confirms it, doesn’t it?
She was not my sister.
She was only a Guardian Witch tasked with guarding me for a reason unknown to me.
My heart sank.
The person I’ve highly respected and highly regarded had neither the respect nor regard for me.
It was all just an elaborate lie.
A loud crashing sound interrupted my brooding, and I looked up to see that Lili had taken her anger out on the poor vase that sat at the top of our coffee table.
When did she get home?
“That damn rat. How dare she go missing at a time like this!”
At that moment, I realised that I was blinded by the pretentious sisterly act she put up in front of me my entire life. This woman on the screen before me is nothing like the Ryia Alwyn I know.
That Ryia Alwyn is a mask.
Now that the mask has cracked, I can clearly see what lies beneath it. A vile, soulless woman with no love in her heart for me.
I’ve been a fool all along.
Just as quickly as the “show” started, it ended, and a blank white screen stood before me as silence dominated the room.
“What’s your purpose? Why did you let me see this?” My swollen eyes glared hard at him.
I’m done playing around with the mind games. There’s got to be a bigger picture, and I think I have the right to know what it is.
The sympathetic gaze he returned was not at all what I was expecting to see from him. It made me even more uneasy than I was before.
“I cannot tell you everything at once, my dear Liliwen. It’s too soon for you to know the whole truth,” he said as his eyes held my gaze, “But I believe that something you must know is that... you’ve been living in lies.”
There was no denying what I had seen with my own eyes.
In frustration, I clasped the coffee-coloured fabric of the perfectly fitting silk pants he let me borrow.
“I said ‘lies’ because they’ve already fed you with countless. Every year, during your birthday, they’ve invaded the planes of your mind. Through and through, they’ve violated your memories to repress the real ones.”
How can this possibly be?
I could feel my cheeks dampening under the torrent from my eyes. Everything I knew… everything I thought I knew was all just a show, but to what end? What reason could anyone have to take such extreme measures to abuse the mind of a useless witch?
“They’ve shaken your core: your photographic memory. That was the one thing that kept them from manipulating you. Unfortunately,” his eyes turned to the floor as if there was something there that needed to be looked at, “they got away with it. They had full control of you all those years...until now.”
I still didn’t understand what he was saying.
“The mind of a Catalyst Witch has a tough barrier to break. It’s to protect the only gift they possess.”
I have a gift?
A gift that was taken away from me by Ryia?
He continued, “The only possible reasons they got through to you are simple. Either you let them, or a powerful being was involved.”
Why in the world would I let anyone take away the only good thing that I’ve got?
I’m sure he has no clue what it’s like being a powerless witch. The two things did not go together in any way. A witch without powers is merely mortal, and nobody volunteers to be that.
Bran grabs my attention again, “although, I have to admit that I’ve been a complicit all this time due to the coven’s strict requirement of compliance,” he scoffed with a tinge of self-mockery in his tone.
The confession confused me.
“Then, why are you telling me this now?”
His lips pulled into another mysterious grin, “Someone just had enough of it and told me to do something.”
I clumsily wiped the tears from my face with the sleeve of the white cotton shirt I’m wearing. It’s as if I needed to clear my vision in order to get what he meant entirely.
“Who?”
The grin grew wider, “Someone who’s not the coven obviously.”
A face appeared in my mind.
It was the face of the man who had whispered a confession to me while I was still unconscious.
I can still hear his words in my mind as clear as day.
“I am your benefactor.”
Chapter 3
Blood and Moon
Bran was considerate enough to let me return to my room after the enlightening film show in the theatre room.
What do I do now?
They’ve been calling me the Catalyst Witch, and I still don’t know what that means.
I’ve been here for five days. The stillness of this place, despite lots of things going on within its ancient walls, has at least given me a ground to stand on.
I cannot understand the familiarity of its embraces, like a mother holding her child in her arms. But to the best of my knowledge, I’d never set a foot inside this mansion before the grand ball. Still, in the short time I’ve been here, I found myself feeling oddly at home.
The thought of home brought my mind to the place I once called home. The one where the woman is pretending to be my family is busy plotting out ways to find me.
Catching a glimpse of the true nature of her heart, I have no idea what to expect if she does find me.
I may not have left off my own volition, but do I even want to go back there?
Do I want to see her?
To talk to her?
Perhaps, I still have this attachment to her as part of the spell she cast upon me. It may even be the lasting effect of her sisterly pretence.
I want to seek answers from her. No, I am just about angry enough to demand answers.
Bran mentioned the coven required him to go along with it.
Why does the coven have me guarded?
Why was it important that I don’t keep my memories?
The Guardian Witch Ryia was heavily reprimanded for losing sight of me. The Minister of Defense wanted to keep me under their watch, but why?
Why does a person of high position, let alone someone who’s in charge of this country’s safety, have me under surveillance?
They even went throu
gh the lengths of putting a fake sister assigned to me.
Is lying to me, really a matter of national security?
Nobody seems to want to answer my questions. Bran knows a lot but refuses to tell me everything.
If the barrier of my mind was supposed to be tough, how did they get to me?
My mind drifted until, in an instant, I felt the earth shift, and the crescent moon turned upside down.
The light of the room dimmed to darkness. All of a sudden, I couldn’t move my body.
Voices started to echo in the room.
“Are you sure about this?”
It was a male voice. I recognised it immediately as Bran’s. But there was obvious worry in his tone, something very uncharacteristic of him.
I could hear him from where the vanity mirror should be. When did he enter the room?
“Yes. I’m more than ready to do it,”
That voice… that woman… she sounds exactly like me.
I tried to speak up, but some unseen force had sealed my lips.
It must be someone with the same voice. Mine is not really that unique.
“Don’t give me that smile. It won’t give me any kind of reassurance.” Bran said to the woman. His concern and affection are unmistakable.
“Oh, Bran. This must be done for our plans to progress.”
The voice that was oddly similar to mine sounded soft and overly familiar as she talked to Bran.
“Do you realise how much of this would affect me?” there was a pang in my heart when I heard the hurt in his voice.
“I’m sorry. I know well how this will hurt you, but I have to do this,” there was an unbreakable determination in her tone.
Whoever it is that had my voice, she had a steel resolve that wouldn’t budge. There’s no talking her out of what she’s about to do.
Whoever she is...I wish I were her.
“If I don’t give them what they want now, they will soon figure out everything we’ve worked hard for. We can’t have that. You’ve been doing your part, Bran. And this is me doing mine.”
No one spoke for a couple of minutes. I could only hear light footsteps toward the door until...
Witch's Cursed Circle Complete Collection Page 5