Welcome to Redwaters - 11. Chapter 11

The first light of dawn accompanied Hadrian's journey as he drove the jeep towards the manor. Inside the vehicle, the tension that had enveloped Hadrian and Zain seemed to have dissipated, giving way to a new and unexpected serenity. The night spent together in the clandestine bar, coupled with Hadrian's revelations to Zain about his past and the origin of his torment, appeared to have brought them closer, against all odds. Hadrian had feared that unveiling his story would forever erect barriers in Zain's heart towards him, but instead, it had strengthened their bond.

The silence in the vehicle exuded a tranquility that transcended fatigue, and the connection between the two men seemed stronger than ever before. Hadrian cast a glance at Zain, whose head was tilted towards the window of his passenger seat, seemingly lost in the passing landscape. In an unexpected gesture, Hadrian placed his hand on Zain's, intertwining their fingers. The contact electrified their bodies, as it did every time they touched. Zain turned his gaze away from the window, first to their joined hands, then to Hadrian's face. Something unique bound them together, something unique and wonderful.

Still hand in hand, Hadrian and Zain crossed the exterior aisle of the manor, leaving behind the metallic fountain forged from the carcasses of Tucker and his gang's vehicles, a feat accomplished by Zain's powers and the last vestige of the massacre perpetrated by Hadrian. The dancing shadows of the first light of dawn merged with the remnants of the night.

Hadrian pushed open the large wooden door, and they entered the mansion, but all tranquility was abruptly shattered at the sight of Ouray. His pale face betrayed a palpable anxiety, as if he awaited their arrival with urgent concern. The darkness of the manor closed in around them, offering a sinister and oppressive welcome.

"But where were you two?! I've been trying to reach you!" exclaimed Ouray, furious.

Hadrian and Zain's hands quickly separated, in the face of the palpable tension in the air. Dodging the questions, Hadrian asked, alarmed:

"What's going on, Ouray?"

The shaman tried to contain his frustration, his face marked by worry, before responding with a voice laden with emotion:

"It's Fleur. It seems that Sienna's spirit has allied with Marsha, with the aim of possessing Fleur's body."

Ouray paused, capturing the bewildered looks of Zain and Hadrian, before continuing in a grave tone:

"Marsha manipulated Elliott into driving Fleur from the airport upon her arrival to the magic-free zone, so that Sienna could seize her physical form. It appears that Sienna, just like Zain, is unaffected by the powers of the zone and hoped to exploit this advantage to take over Fleur's body. However, she failed because it seems that Fleur was pregnant, and the presence of the child prevented the possession. The magic-free zone seemed to greatly affect Fleur and the child, and in a final effort, Sienna seized Marsha's body instead, now possessing it."

"Sienna, as in Sienna, your ex who died five hundred years ago?" asked Zain, perplexed. Hadrian ignored his question before addressing Ouray:

"Where is Fleur? How is she?"

The tension hung heavy in the air as all eyes turned to Ouray, seeking answers.

"The possession attempt, combined with the effects of the magic-free zone, has greatly weakened her, plunging her into a critical condition," he explained with a voice heavy with concern. "Sienna allowed Elliott to drive her to the hospital just in time to save her… but she lost the baby."

A murmur of horror escaped Zain's lips. "My God..." he uttered, overwhelmed by the shock and sadness of this revelation.

Hadrian, brimming with worry, exclaimed, on the verge of rushing to her side:

"I need to see her right away!" But he was interrupted by Ouray: "

"Hadrian, no! When Sienna tried to take over her body, Fleur inherited some of her memories. That's what ultimately woke her up. She witnessed Sienna's final moments, the Redwaters massacre, as if she had lived it herself... I don't believe she'll want to see you in these circumstances."

Immense sorrow took over the immortal. Fleur was his family, and the thought of her rejecting him for his past mistakes was unbearable. He wished he could be by her side, reassuring her, comforting her, helping her through these difficult moments. The guilt, barely dissipated, seized him once again, plunging him into a whirlwind of tumultuous emotions.

"So I'll go, and I'll try to explain to her what really happened...explain to her story as you told me…" Zain attempted, but Ouray firmly interrupted him:

"No! It's better to let her process what's happening to her first. Fleur is lost, fragile… She doesn't want to see Elliott anymore, feels betrayed by the people closest to her. She just lost her child for god sake! She's not by any means in a state of mind to have any type of conversations..."

His voice was categorical, imbued with the determination to protect Fleur from any premature interaction. His words resonated in the hall, accentuating the prevailing distress.

"I need to get ready for school, we have practice with the team, big game tomorrow..." announced Zain, aware that this sleepless night would likely cost him dearly in concentration.

Ouray raised an eyebrow, his gaze scrutinizing Zain with growing intensity. He sighed before placing a firm hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Zain, we need to address your situation, your powers, and all these threats looming over the city. It's time to take things more seriously..."

Zain tensed slightly under the weight of Ouray's hand, but he maintained his determined expression, his eyes fixed on his mentor.

"I can't miss practice, the team is counting on me, I had a hard time convincing the coach to take a guy on the cheerleading squad..." pleaded Zain, a hint of agitation in his voice.

Ouray sighed once more, withdrawing his hand from Zain's shoulder with a slight recoil.

"There are more important things today than waving pom-poms to support a high school game!" he impatiently exclaimed loosing patience.

"Let him have his distractions, we have enough to deal with Sienna's return while he’s gone…" interjected Hadrian.

Ouray locked eyes with Hadrian, his gaze tinged with a mixture of worry and frustration. He let out a weary sigh as Zain hurried off towards the stairs to get ready.

Watching the young man depart, Ouray observed his tense posture, betraying some inner turmoil. Then, once Zain was at a safe distance, he turned to Hadrian, his expression grave.

"I was the first to encourage this... bond between you two, but I sincerely hope i wasn't mistaken! You liking the boy can't be a distraction from the responsibilities we have, Hadrian, pull yourself together!"

A slight shiver ran through Ouray's shoulders, a sign of his palpable annoyance.

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In the hospital room, the curtains stretched in the darkness, enveloping Fleur who, sitting on the bed, stared out the veiled window, motionless. Her being was marked by fatigue, her mind gripped by deep desolation.

Sienna's memories stirred in her mind since waking up, striking her consciousness like electric shocks. Although the witch had failed in her attempt at possession, the scars of her endeavor remained, leaving an indelible mark on Fleur.

Hadrian had ravaged Sienna's life, and the hatred the witch held for him had invaded Fleur, clouding her feelings towards the immortal who had always been her friend. How could he have caused so much destruction?

A cramp seized Fleur, her fingers clutching her abdomen, a tear sliding down her cheek. She had hoped that the child she would one day have with Elliot would mark the beginning of a new era of peace, but her fiancé had betrayed that dream.

A profound sense of injustice overwhelmed her as tears continued to flow in the darkness of the room. Marsha had taken her mother, her fiancé, now their first child. But Fleur refused to be a victim any longer.

She rose, her cheeks flushed and damp, pulling open the curtains to let light into the room, determined not to let anyone subject her to such trials again.

Fleur sank back onto the bed, her eyes squinting against the glare of the sun streaming into the hospital room. Wrapped in her gown, she dreaded going home and facing Elliot, just as she dreaded joining Hadrian and Ouray at the mansion. She didn't feel strong enough to face anyone.

The door swung open abruptly, but Fleur, turning her back to the entrance, exclaimed sharply without turning around, "I said no visitors!"

"They make an exception for family," Rose replied as she entered the room.

Fleur turned to face the person she had been surprised to learn was her sister during her time in Paris.

Rose's heart tightened in her chest at Fleur's downtrodden appearance, her face swollen with tears, her eyes empty. Even though she didn't know her, her palpable distress was unbearable.

"What do you want?" Fleur asked sharply. Her only interaction with Rose several weeks earlier had resulted in her capture by her abominable mother, the one responsible for all her woes.

"I'm not your enemy, Fleur. I've only just learned who you really were, what my mother made you go through... I'm truly sorry..."

"You'll understand that I'm not up for a family reunion, especially not with someone who trapped me the last time I saw her!"

"Fleur, my mother always made me believe that anyone who discovered the secret of the Sisters of Abundance was an enemy, that's why I neutralized you. She lied to me all my life, prevented us from knowing each other... I would have loved to know I had a sister, it would have helped me navigate my life with that sociopathic mother..." Rose confided, her face lowered, a tear trickling down from behind her glasses.

The words echoed in Fleur's mind like thunder, reigniting her childhood desire to have a sister to share life's trials and the discovery of her powers with. Marsha had once again robbed her of an essential bond. Rose approached the bed cautiously, addressing her sister with these comforting words:

"It's not too late for us, Fleur." The redheaded witch turned to her, expressing her dismay:

"I think that's a bit naive... I can't forget what your mother inflicted on me. I'm determined to make her pay. I don't think a relationship between us is possible until Marsha has answered for her actions."

Rose took a deep breath before replying earnestly: "Fleur, my mother treated me with cruelty all my life. I always wanted to get close to her, but she never wanted me. Her jealousy and hatred consumed her. Even though your mother was taken from you at a young age, you were lucky enough to know her, to experience that unconditional love. I never had that.
Your vengeance against Marsha shouldn't stop us from building our relationship. She deserves whatever comes her way."

Fleur stared at her sister, struggling against her unleashed emotions, unable to guess her true intentions. Her heart couldn't bear another betrayal, especially in her current state.

Fleur and her sister faced each other, exchanging a look charged with deep emotion, recognizing each other in their physical features.
At that moment, only the color of their hair seem to distinguish them.

Moving towards Rose, arms open, as if she were to hug her, Fleur surprised her sister by firmly placing both her hands on her sister’s shoulders, declaring in a determined tone: "véritas revelabitur!"

A supernatural blue surge ran through Rose's body, leaving her speechless.
"What have you done?" she exclaimed.

Unmoved, Fleur replied: "A truth spell. I refuse to be deceived again."

The spell seemed to unsettle Rose as Fleur, determined to uncover the true reason for her visit, already asked her, "What did you really come here for?"

Rose immediately replied, under the spell's influence: "I wanted to know what had happened to you, I wanted us to meet properly."

"What do you think of your mother's actions, what are your true feelings for her?" Fleur asked.

Still mechanically, Rose answered without hesitation:"She's a despicable woman, her fate matters very little to me now."

Fleur was surprised by these revelations, and somewhat confused that she had to resort to magic to discover the truth, but her sister was undeniably sincere in her approach, which offered her a natural relief.

"You didn't have to do that, I told you I was sincere," Rose said to her, her face kind.

"I don't know who to trust anymore, I refuse to be manipulated by anyone," Fleur affirmed firmly, still in shock from the recent events she had been through.

Rose watched her with a sorry expression, faced with Fleur's palpable distress.

"I don't know where to go, or who to believe. My life is in shambles …I don't want to go home and see Elliot, or go to Hadrian's..." Fleur began.

"Come with me to the Loft, take some time to step back..." Rose suggested.

"You want me to come live with you and Marsha?! You may be sincere but you are clearly disturbed," Fleur objected to this absurd idea.

"Think about it…Just for a few days, to take your mind off all this…Sienna is in possession of Marsha's body, my mother won't be any trouble to you..." Rose explained.

Flashes of Sienna's life assaulted Fleur's troubled memory. Even though the vengeful intentions of her freshly reincarnated ancestor were still mysterious, this connection with her, born from her attempt at possession, gave her an inexplicable sense of… closeness…. It was she who had allowed Elliot to drive her to the hospital, and even though all her instincts screamed at her to remain cautious, her curiosity seemed to outweigh her reason.

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Zain was late, leaving the Uber's door behind him with a muted thud. His heart was racing, his mind tormented by the events of the previous night and the announcement of Fleur's fate. Despite the fatigue weighing on his shoulders, he had vowed to seize every moment of his human life with determination, no matter the obstacles that stood in his way.

Running through the deserted hallways of the school, Zain headed towards the gym to join the team. At a turn in the corridor, he abruptly stopped in front of the trophy case, where Simonne stood motionless, her gaze lost in the frozen memories of the rugby team's past successes. Her face betrayed palpable emotion as she looked at the trophies and photos that told the glorious story of Redwaters High.

Zain slowed down, catching his breath, then quietly slipped next to her, his eyes following hers to the photo of a young man with striking charisma. His gaze wandered into the details of the portrait, captivated by the magnetic presence of the one who seemed to embody the very spirit of success.

Simonne seemed so deeply absorbed in her contemplation that she didn't notice Zain approaching. When he spoke to her in a gentle voice, she startled slightly, surprised by his presence.

"Simonne... are you okay?" he asked, his gaze filled with concern.

The young cheerleader turned to him, a mix of sadness and nostalgia in her eyes. "I didn't see you coming... yeah, I'm fine... just a little nostalgic, that's all..."

Zain looked at her with empathy, understanding the weight of the memories that must be haunting her. Gently, he asked, "Ex-boyfriend?"

She gave a sad smile :

"I don't know if you can call 'ex' someone who just vanished..."

A cold shiver ran down Zain's spine at her words, and he asked her apprehensively, "What do you mean, vanished?"

"You've just arrived here... it's normal that you wouldn't know... on your first day at school, I explained to you that the team was new because we lost members due to an accident last year..."

Zain nodded gently, a hint of regret in his gaze. "I didn't want to pry... that's why I didn't ask more questions..."

"His name... it was Conrad," murmured Simonne, her eyes shining with profound sadness. She seemed hesitant, as if afraid to let too much of her emotions slip. "Conrad was more than just a player... he was the heart and soul of our team. A true leader, but above all, a good person..."

The words seemed heavy on her tongue, as if each syllable carried an unbearable weight of memories and grief. "He was so talented... so bright..."

Zain felt his own heart tighten at Simonne's obvious sorrow. He looked at her with infinite tenderness, a burning desire to relieve her pain. "What happened to Conrad... and the rest of the team in that accident?" he asked in a soft voice, almost fearful in the face of the magnitude of the tragedy that seemed to have struck the community.

Simonne stared into the distance, letting her mind drift into the haunting memories of that fateful day. With bated breath, she delved into the past, as if the events were unfolding before her eyes once again.

"It was late autumn, when excitement hung in the air like an intoxicating fragrance. The high school buzzed with end-of-year exams and the prom preparations, but for Conrad and I, there was something else that captured our thoughts."

She paused, her nervous fingers playing with a strand of hair as she gathered the courage to relive the moment.

"Conrad had this sparkle in his eyes, one of hope and ambition. We had everything planned out, our future mapped in Los Angeles, where we dreamed of settling down together... him playing rugby, me on the cheerleading squad, propelled by the promise of a college scholarship. But as they were on their way to meet with recruiters, the unthinkable happened."

Her eyes reflected the pain and mystery that shrouded this tragedy, as if she could still feel the suffocating anguish of that day.

"The bus, that cursed bus carrying them towards their dreams, was found, twisted and broken, like an abandoned toy. At the scene, silence reigned, heavy, as the driver layed motionless in his final breath. But the most troubling was ...the absence. The absence of Conrad and the others, as if they had evaporated into thin air, leaving behind an unbearable void."

A solitary tear rolled down her cheek, bearing witness to the still vivid pain, to the incomprehension that haunted every thought.

Zain watched, captivated by the poignant narrative unfolding before him. His heart beat to the rhythm of the words, swept away by a story as dark as it was fascinating. But a question burned in his mind, a question to which he desperately sought an answer: what had become of those players lost in the depths of the unknown?

As Zain scrutinized Simone's face, seeking answers in her troubled eyes, silence hung heavy in the room. The atmosphere was charged with palpable tension, as if every word spoken could trigger an avalanche of emotions.

In a breath, Zain finally broke the silence, his voice tinged with worry betraying his anxiety. "What about the police? Have they found any trace of them? Any leads?" His words resonated in the air, suspended between them like echoes in a dark canyon.

Simone let out a wry smile, her features drawn by the weight of memories and conjectures. Her eyes reflected deep fatigue, as if she had borne the burden of uncertainty for an eternity. "No, nothing... after their disappearance, rumors circulated endlessly..." she began wearily, her own frustration evident in every syllable.

She then recounted the wildest theories that had flourished in the void left by the absence of tangible answers. Some mentioned the unbearable pressure of training, others extraterrestrial abductions, each of these suppositions seeming more improbable than the last. "The hardest part is not knowing..." she murmured, her gaze lost in the void, as if she still hoped for a miraculous resolution to this endless nightmare.

Then, abruptly brought back to reality by a surge of emotions, Simone shook her head as if to dispel the ghosts of the past. "Enough talk about all that," she declared with determination, before turning to Zain with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "I'm going to change for practice, will you join us in the gym?" she added, seeking a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos caused by these revelations.

Before walking away, she turned to Zain one last time, her gaze filled with gratitude and vulnerability. "Zain... thank you for listening," she whispered sincerely, revealing the depth of her distress beneath the mask of her resilience.

Zain responded with a compassionate look, a glint of understanding and tenderness in his eyes. Then, as Simone disappeared into the locker rooms, leaving Zain alone in front of the trophy case, he found himself overwhelmed by the weight of her story, realizing how much the past could haunt the present, even in as ordinary an environment as a small-town high school.

Zain's heart pounded in his chest, a strange and unsettling sensation washing over him, as if the shadow of the supernatural loomed around him, ready to reveal itself at any moment. His gaze couldn't tear away from the display case, where Conrad's face seemed to challenge him, his suspicions morphing into an oppressive certainty. With a trembling hand, he pressed his palm against the glass, and suddenly, a surge of electricity struck him head-on, sending flashes of light and visions racing through his tormented mind. With his eyes closed, he struggled to remain upright, his body swaying as vivid images unfolded before him. Silhouettes of young figures lying in a darkened room, the flickering glow of candles revealing their sleeping faces, all adorned in the rugby team's jackets. And at the center of this eerie scene, Conrad, unconscious, seeming drained of all life energy, his forehead glistening with sweat, a palpable aura of danger surrounding him.

Zain opened his eyes, his breath shallow, shaken by the supernatural experience that had just hit him head-on. The players were indeed still alive, but he knew deep in his soul that their time was running out. If he didn't immediately set out to find them, the ominous fate that awaited them would strike without warning.

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Within the library of the manor, an unbearable tension hung between Hadrian and Ouray.

The immortal was burdened by the weight of the news of what Fleur had endured without him being able to intervene, like a searing pain that knotted his stomach.

Ouray broke the heavy silence by saying, "We need to assess the situation as a whole, there are too many intertwined pieces, we need to clarify all of this. Between Fleur's nightmare, Marsha, Sienna's return, our recent discoveries concerning Zain..."

"I think we should simplify this complicated equation by extracting the weakest and most troublesome element... Marsha."

"What do you mean?"

"This woman is responsible for Carolina's death. She has targeted Fleur more than once and has now allied herself with Sienna by offering her body for her reincarnation... yet, Marsha does not possess the necessary powers to host Sienna's essence or to perform the magic she seems capable of..."

"You mean she's drawing her magic from somewhere else?"

"Exactly, and this source is evidently beginning to dwindle as she has been reduced to asking Fleur for her blood to perform future rituals. Her magic is weakening, and if we can neutralize her, Sienna will revert to being immaterial, limiting her scope of action..."

Ouray leaned forward, his brows furrowing in a deep expression of thought.

"We need to find the energy source she's using and disconnect her from it, before Sienna can lay hands on another source and solidify her grip."

Hadrian scrutinized his face, a glint of worry in his eyes.

"Do you think she would attack Fleur again?"

"The possession rules are strict," Ouray replied gravely. "A disembodied being cannot repossess a soul it has previously attempted to seize unsuccessfully, which now excludes Fleur... nor can it attempt possession more than three times in total. Once out of Marsha's body, Sienna will only have one chance left to take someone else, before her plans unravel."

"Unless she manages to reclaim her own body..."

Ouray fixed Hadrian, who seemed lost in thought more deeply than ever. Concerned, his mentor asked him, "How do you feel... about her reappearance?"

"As strange as it may seem, even after half a century since her death, I always knew this moment would come... but that's not what concerns me," confessed Hadrian, his voice trembling, his emotions raw.

The Shaman stared at Hadrian, surprised by his revelation. "What concerns you then?" he asked.

"My dilemma today lies in the fact that this woman I once loved, and of whose downfall I was the cause, dragging me into the abyss of my darkest torments... How could I now thwart her plans of return, of claiming the life I took from her..."

"Hadrian... Sienna died on the day of the Redwaters massacre... And as tragic as her fate was, it doesn't give her the right today to sow chaos throughout the town to satisfy her thirst for revenge..."

"I can't face her, Ouray, not after what I've done..." confessed Hadrian, his voice filled with remorse, his throat tight with anguish.

Ouray placed a comforting hand on Hadrian's shoulder, feeling the weight of his confusion.

"Listen, we don't need to think about that right now... Our priority is Marsha. Neutralizing her will buy us time and ground, and it will finally put an end to the torment endured by Fleur, Darcey, and ourselves as a result of what she did to Carolina. It's time for all of us to move forward, and while forgetting is impossible, perhaps we can start the healing process... Dealing with Marsha is the only solution."

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In the cold and dark atmosphere of the Loft, hidden behind the overflowing shelves of Abundance's library, Sienna, clad in Marsha's body, delved into the yellowed pages of ancient grimoires. Sitting in a chair near her captive's bed, she felt the growing weight of this possession become unbearable. She had to find a way to reclaim her own body, her own powers.

After taking possession of Marsha, Sienna had inherited much of the witch's memories and secrets. However, some crucial information remained locked, notably the source of her powers. Marsha wasn't a witch by birth, so her powers were fueled by a force foreign to her being. But this source was quickly dwindling, as evidenced by the growing fatigue consuming her hour by hour.

Sienna's hope layed in discovering the energy responsible for her own resurrection from the dead, the very one that manifested as a violet halo in her eyes. This foreign magic, the Hale, was the missing key to reclaiming her body and initiating her designs. But none of the consulted grimoires provided any clue on what steps to take.

Weary, Sienna closed the book and stood up, slipping out of the room through a long corridor lined with framed blackboards. She lingered for a moment in front of these mysterious artworks, until the sound of the door downstairs abruptly brought her back to reality.

Rose and Fleur entered the vast main room of the industrial loft, the same place where Marsha had held the fiery-haired witch captive a few weeks earlier. It was the day Fleur had discovered the existence of the Abundance Witches, a dark legacy in which her mother, Carolina, had been involved in her youth.

Fleur's gaze swept the room, sending shivers down her spine. Despite her desire to avoid Elliot and Hadrian, and her hope of finally finding her sister after all these years, coming to this place was clearly not the best idea.

Sienna, descending the spiral staircase, tensed at the sound of their arrival, ready to discover its source. She found herself face to face with the two witches.

Relief washed over Sienna upon seeing Fleur safe and sound. The last time she had seen her, Fleur was writhing in pain in the forest. Sienna had been unaware then that the witch was pregnant when she attempted to possess her body. She had never intended to harm her, only to borrow her descendant's physical form temporarily to regain her own shape. If she had known the detrimental consequences it would entail, she would never have dared to commit such an act.

Fleur represented what was closest to her own daughter, being the last born of her lineage. But at the sight of Sienna advancing towards her, wearing Marsha's body, Fleur was overcome by an unbearable impulse and delivered a punch so powerful that it knocked Sienna to the ground under the violent shock.

"Fleur, stop!" Rose yelled out, rushing towards the witch as Sienna struggled to get up, her mouth bloodied.

Fleur watched Sienna rise, gently rubbing her lip. Fleur's gaze was filled with hatred, a result of everything Marsha had put her through. Rose stood by her sister's side, shocked, and said:

"This isn't Marsha, I told you!"

Sienna then faced Fleur, moved and understanding despite the violence. "I mean you no harm, Fleur," she uttered.

"I know you're not Marsha! but you tried to possess my body. That was you, Sienna, not her," Fleur retorted, her tone tinged with suspicion.

"I know. It was a mistake, I admit it, I had no idea of the consequences it could have on you. I'm sorry."

Fleur observed her, her face unreadable. Since her return from France, she felt like she was on autopilot, unable to feel or discern the true from the false.

"Listen…I just came here to take a step back, and get to know Rose. She said she had a room for me. As for the rest, I'm really not interested in hearing it…I won’t ask questions and I’d appreciate the same curtsey…" declared the witch before giving her one last look and heading up the stairs. Rose hurried behind her, leaving Sienna shaken by the reality of the role she had played in the tragedy that had befallen Fleur.

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At Redwaters High, the energy of practice had finally subsided. The atmosphere had been charged, the coach turning into a tyrant under the pressure of the upcoming match. Yet, Zain, with his insightful advice, had managed to temper the coach's intensity, easing the tension somewhat. The bond forged with the team during this trial had strengthened their connections, making Zain an unexpected yet indispensable figure.

His guidance, though unfamiliar to the sport he was discovering, seemed to draw from distant memories of his original world, where a similar ethos had found its place. It felt like a breath of fresh air, an unexpected tool to navigate this new environment. This was a remarkable feat for Zain, still grappling with the haunting visions he had experienced earlier, with the images of Conrad and the missing players weighing heavily on his mind.

Zain couldn't ignore the oppressive feeling that these missing students were in imminent danger. He felt compelled to act, even if it meant skipping classes. After all, he would probably have spent the math class sleeping, so he might as well make good use of that time.

He knew exactly where to go, to someone who would help him without asking too many questions.

Zain pushed open the door of the tattoo parlor, drawn in by the glow of pink and blue neon lights that illuminated the punk rock atmosphere. A deafening metallic symphony filled the space, but strangely, Zain found it soothing.

Garth, behind the counter, greeted him with a broad smile. The kinnara's gaze betrayed a particular affection for the young man, a sort of inexplicable fondness.

"The shy newcomer finally takes the plunge!" declared Garth, setting down his pencil on his sketchbook, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"I love the aesthetic of the place," remarked Zain, gesturing to the ambiance of the salon. "It's like an Ariana Grande music video in here."

With a raised eyebrow, Garth fixed Zain with an incredulous look. "If I didn't have absolute confidence in myself, I'd ask you to leave immediately!"

A teasing smile formed on Zain's lips after his sarcastic remark.

"So, what brings you here? I assume you didn't come all this way just to critique my decor?" Garth asked, his piercing blue eyes fixed on him.

"Well...I need to brief you first on everything that's been going on lately," Zain announced.

Zain cleared his throat before launching into the recount of everything that had happened in recent weeks: Fleur's misfortunes, Sienna's mysterious return, him enrolling high school, and most importantly, the magical visions that had revealed the disappearance of the team members that morning.

"Fuck! All that in such a short time?!" Garth exclaimed , his face creasing with emotion. "Poor Fleur..."

Zain lowered his gaze, a heavy feeling in his heart. "I know, it's awful. I wanted to go see her, but Ouray insists we give her more time to recover..."

Garth let a moment of silence hang as he pondered the situation. Then, a look of realization crossed his eyes.

"But why did you come to me for help in finding these kids, and not Hadrian?" he suddenly asked, a glint of intrigue in his gaze.

Zain rolled his eyes, annoyed, before responding sharply, "Because Hadrian would tell me it's too dangerous, that I'm impulsive... reckless."

A mischievous smile spread across Garth's lips. "And that would be...untrue?" he teased.

Zain took a moment to let Garth's words sink in, realizing that perhaps the immortal wasn't wrong about him. His indignant expression gradually faded, replaced by burning determination.

"It might be true," he finally admitted, "but I know I need to find these students as soon as possible! I felt their life essence fading... They don't have much time left... When I think about their families, their friends... Their loved ones... I have to act fast!"

Garth's gaze softened at such fervor.

"I never said I wouldn't help you, Zain," he replied softly, "but we'll need more details if we're going to find them."

Zain focused, trying to revive the images of his vision within him.

"They were arranged in a circle, in a dark room," he began to describe, "a candle in front of each of them... Unconscious."

"Arranged in a circle? Candles? That's definitely a ritual. We need to investigate the practitioners of witchcraft in town!" exclaimed Garth, grasping the importance of these details.

"Do you have a list?" Zain asked, his excitement palpable at the prospect of finally having a starting point.

"I don't think we'll need one. I remember the incident with the missing students and the bus last April; it caused a wave of panic in the town," Garth recalled, delving into dark memories. He paused before continuing, "Just a few months ago, Sheriff Tucker was still terrorizing supernatural beings... I had quietly investigated those missing kids, asked around in the enchanted forest, and the only lead I had, besides organ trafficking, was this group of dubious reputation... the Sisters of something..."

"The Abundance Sisters maybe ?" Zain asked, his incredulity mixing with intrigue.

"Yes, that's it! Several forest beings swear they saw their leader, a shady woman, lurking around the bus route... But with all of Tucker and his gang's assaults on our kind, I let human justice handle it..." Garth admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

"MARSHA... She's the woman I told you about, the one who trapped Fleur's mother with Tucker, the one Sienna's specter now possesses... But why would she target a group of high schoolers?" Zain wondered, perplexed.

Garth seemed to ponder for a moment before posing a crucial question: "You said you felt their essence dissipating bit by bit in your flash?"

Zain nodded, intrigued by the turn of the conversation, as Garth continued, "Some witches need to draw their powers from an energy source, like a generator. If these students are, as you told me, star athletes at the high school, she might have captured them to draw from their essence and fuel her powers..."

A cold shiver ran down Zain's spine as he realized the horror of the situation. "You mean she's been using these young people as human batteries for months?! That's horrifying..."

Garth replied, looking weighed down by the gravity of this realization, frantically running his tattooed hands over his blue-dyed hair.

"That's why you felt their essence dissipating. We need to get them out of there as soon as possible!"

Zain seemed to ponder for a moment before saying, "Marsha has a loft behind the Abundance bookstore, at the other end of town. That's where she held Fleur captive. Let's go!"

Taking out his phone from his pocket, Zain asked Garth :

"Do you have a car, or should I get us an Uber?"

The kinnara gave him a mischievous look before asking :

"I have a better idea. Are you afraid of heights?"

Garth led Zain upstairs from the tattoo parlor to the rooftop, which was converted into a sunny terrace. Zain looked at him, perplexed, as the boy asked him :

"Do you have good balance?"

Suddenly, realization struck Zain :

"You want us to go there by air?! Me clinging to you in your bird form?! I know I don't weigh much, but let's not exaggerate."

Garth gave him a teasing look and said, "I can be all sorts of birds, no matter their size. Trust me, you'll enjoy it..."

"I doubt you can turn into a specimen big enough to carry me, Garth..."

"I promise you, I can..." Garth assured, though the tone of their conversation seemed to hint at dubious implications from both sides...

The kinnara positioned himself at the center of the terrace, under Zain's apprehensive gaze. Garth felt a shiver run through his body as his tattoos seemed to come alive. A strange energy emanated from his patterns, and he felt his muscles tense and his skin morphe. A sensation of intense heat engulfed him as his bones shifted, taking on a new shape. His clothes tore abruptly under the pressure of his expansion, revealing majestic white feathers unfolding along his arms and back.

Garth fell to his knees as his feet transformed into razor-sharp talons, and his eyes glowed with a wild gleam. He felt his shoulders broaden, his hands morph into powerful wings, and a strange sensation of weightlessness wrapped him as his body took the form of a nearly five-meter royal albatross.

Zain watched, gaping, as Garth completed his transformation.

“Oh my god…” Zain exclaimed, awestruck.

Zain approached cautiously, initially uncertain, then skillfully climbed onto the albatross's back, clutching onto its feathers firmly to avoid slipping. Carefully, he positioned himself near the base of the wings, where he could feel the power of the beats. Garth, now transformed into a royal albatross, remained still for a moment, allowing Zain to find his balance.

Once assured that Zain was ready, Garth flapped his wings with incredible force, lifting off the ground effortlessly. Zain held on tightly as they soared into the skies, carried by the wind in a rush that elicited ineffable sensations in Zain.

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