Welcome to Redwaters - 12. Chapter 12

 

Within the majestic confines of the manor, thoughts swirled in Hadrian's mind. Standing firm in the training room, he relentlessly pounded the punching bag, each strike resonating in the tension-laden air.

Putting an end to Marsha represented much more than just a victory. It was the end of an era of anguish, where the mystery surrounding Carolina's murder weighed heavily on them all. Neutralizing her would also ensure Fleur's protection from the sinister designs of the deranged witch.

But what could be the external source of her magic? And what should be done with Marsha once Sienna was extracted from her body?

For Hadrian, the very idea of ending Marsha's life, once stripped of her powers and thus once again a mere human, had become unacceptable... especially after what he had done to Tucker and his gang...

In a series of precise attacks, Hadrian unleashed his frustration on the bag, desperately trying to organize the chaos of his thoughts. Sienna's return had made him vulnerable, very unstable... and his moral dilemma over opposing the vengeful plans of the one he had caused so much pain to, tortured him.

Fortunately, Zain was there, he realized almost instinctively. As he continued his assault on the bag, a strange serenity seemed to gradually soothe his tormented mind: The previous evening, their frank conversation, Zain's lack of judgment in response to his confessions, to his shame... their dance in the heart of that clandestine bar... their hands intertwined in the car... these simple memories seemed to gradually calm, if only for a few moments, the storm raging within him.

Soon, Hadrian was no longer hitting the bag, but instead wore a perplexed smile in the face of this wave of comforting feelings.

Finally catching his breath, Hadrian’s bare, powerful chest glistened with sweat, his blue shorts also soaked . He ran his hand through his equally drenched hair, his porcelain face flushed from exertion, gradually realizing just how attached he was becoming to Zain.

Even in his moments of deep anguish and doubt, the boy seemed to be his beacon, an unexpected source of comfort, a feeling hitherto unknown...

Ouray bursted into the room, clutching his cellphone tightly, his face etched with anxiety. Hadrian, absorbed in his thoughts, was abruptly jolted from his stupor by his friend’s hasty entrance.

“We have a problem... well, two actually,” Ouray announced in a tense voice.

Hadrian met his friend's anxious gaze. “What’s going on?” he asked, a hint of apprehension in his eyes.

“I called the hospital to check on Fleur,” Ouray began hurriedly, “and they told me she left earlier this morning... that her sister Rose signed her out!”

Ouray's words hit Hadrian like a bolt of lightning. Before he could react, his friend continued:

“I also got a call from Redwaters High. Zain skipped math class and never returned…”

A shiver of apprehension ran down Hadrian’s spine.

The feeling of anxiety that had left him for a brief moment had returned, more oppressive than ever.

————————

Fleur nestled further under the blanket, tucking herself into the farthest corner of Rose's childhood bedroom. Around her, frames and posters from the early 2000s adorned the walls, while figurines and other knickknacks littered the dusty shelves. It was evident that Rose hadn’t spent much time there, neither during her adolescence nor her adult life. The decor testified to a bygone era. But who could blame her? With Marsha as a mother, fleeing must have been a necessity rather than a choice.

The room reminded the red haired witch of her own childhood bedroom, a time when her life still bore the mark of innocence. She remembered the days when she and her mother were inseparable, before her world was turned upside down, after she discovered Carolina’s lifeless body in the woods.

Fleur couldn't believe it. After all these years, the mysteries surrounding her mother's death were finally resolved, and she was now in the very apartment of one of the killers.

Rose, her half-sister, had a monster for a mother. Sheriff Tucker and Marsha had deprived her of a normal life, ripping Carolina away from her at such a young age, so brutally. Tucker had already paid for his crimes, but Marsha was still free, untouched.

Fleur clenched her fists under the blanket, determined that justice would soon be served...

Fleur remembered the horrible void that had took over her after Carolina’s funeral. It was during that time that her grandmother Darcey had moved in with her. Darcey used to often come see her in her room, awkward but well-meaning, and would say: "Your mother didn’t want to talk to me either. I doubt we have much in common given your age, but know that I’m here if you need to talk or just gossip for a bit... Your mother did enjoy that!"

Those words always made her smile. Despite her apparent coldness, Darcey was deeply affected by the death of her daughter, and the striking resemblance between Fleur and Carolina only amplified the pain of her loss. Yet, beneath her snobby and uptight exterior, Fleur knew deep down how much her grandmother loved her. The vulnerability hidden behind that tough façade made every small gesture of affection of hers even more precious.

What a shock it had been for Fleur to discover, just a few weeks ago, that Darcey had had an affair with Ouray. She would never have seen such a scandalous revelation coming...

The door suddenly opened, pulling Fleur from her journey through memory lane. Rose entered the room, looking at her sister with a kind smile. Seeing Fleur in that bed filled her with emotion. Rose never had good memories in this loft, always feeling terribly alone there. Discovering Fleur's identity and learning that she had a sister, was like a childhood dream come true.

She was deeply grateful that Fleur had agreed to come with her. The prospect of bonding, getting to know each other, and helping Fleur overcome the trials she had recently endured on the hands of her dreadful mother had become her top priority.

Rose, the charming little brunette, pushed her glasses back up her nose and said to Fleur:

"I'm going to get us some junk food for movie night. What flavor of ice cream do you want?"

Though emotionally and physically exhausted, Fleur couldn't help but be touched by this unexpected support, born from the equally unexpected bond with this half-sister she barely knew. Rose's evident efforts to bring them closer warmed her heart.

"Raspberry chocolate!" Fleur replied without hesitation, a small smile appearing on her lips.

"And don't worry, Sienna is gone. I don't think she'll bother you today... I'll be back in twenty minutes tops!" Rose added before leaving, gently closing the door behind her.

Fleur slowly emerged from under the blanket, a strange and oppressive sensation gripping her gut. Something was amiss in the loft. There was a dark energy hanging in the air, foreign to Rose's kind presence. Was it simply because this place belonged to Marsha, that crazed witch now possessed by an equally vengeful entity? Did the malevolent energy of these two witches taint the surroundings? Fleur doubted it. No, it was something else, someone or something seemed in great distress, though she couldn't discern who or what.

Every creak of metal in this industrial loft seemed to echo a muffled scream.

Fleur felt her heart race. She wasn't sure anymore what was imaginary and what was real. Yet, the growing anxiety within her couldn't be ignored.

————————

Electrifying, that was the word.

Zain felt an unparalleled exhilaration, soaring through the air on the back of the massive and majestic albatross that Garth had become. They glided high enough to be invisible from the city below. The icy wind slapped his face, bringing a strange but familiar sensation, as if he had flown by himself before. Perhaps it was a remnant of his lost past, erased by the amnesia that had haunted him since arriving in this mysterious world. Memories slipped through his fingers, but in this moment, suspended between sky and earth, he felt alive, confident.

Fragments of memories still managed to resurface, piercing through the thick veil of his amnesia. From where he came from, Zain knew he was surrounded by unconditional love. He vaguely remembered celebrating his nineteenth birthday before being torn away from his world. He also recalled a sport similar to Earth's rugby, which ignited crowds in his original universe but bored him to death.

And then, there was this intimate, almost painful detail: he always had a weakness for men with gray eyes... like Hadrian's. Each memory found its place, gradually illuminating the mystery of his past as he soared through the air, his heart beating to the rhythm of adrenaline.

Garth began his descent, nosediving downward with dizzying precision. They were heading straight for the roof of a small building, the one housing the Abundance bookstore and Marsha's loft. Zain gripped the albatross's feathers tightly to maintain his balance, feeling the wind whistle past his ears as they plummeted at breakneck speed towards their destination. His heart raced at a frantic pace, each beat resonating in his temples, yet he felt no fear. Just the pure, raw excitement of the moment, an absolute trust in Garth, and a burning anticipation of what awaited them.

The royal albatross finally landed on the concrete rooftop, in a motion so abrupt that Zain almost got thrown off. The boy found himself on trembling legs, still electrified by this extraordinary journey.

He gazed at Garth, this majestic creature, with a mixture of fascination and disbelief. Suddenly, the bird began to fold in on itself, its vast wings retracting gradually. Under Zain's astonished eyes, the albatross smoothly metamorphosed, gradually shaping back into its human form. Soon, in place of the bird stood once again the slender young man, his body sculpted and covered in tattoos, completely naked.

Zain averted his gaze, his cheeks flushing. Garth was undeniably very attractive. He recalled the first time the Kinnara had transformed in front of him in the manor's library a few weeks ago, a rather unforgettable entrance...

Noticing Zain's discomfort, Garth smirked. "You'll have to get used to seeing me with not much on, you know."

"What?!" Zain replied in a squeaky voice, already embarrassed by the situation.

Garth burst into laughter. "I might end up transforming in front of you often is what I meant ..." he added, clarifying, well aware of the innuendo.

Zain felt his heart beat faster, torn between embarrassment and irresistible curiosity. Regaining his composure, he grabbed his high school backpack, opened it, and pulled out a t-shirt and shorts. He tossed them towards Garth with a smile.

"You're in luck, I came straight from practice. I still have my gym gear!"

Garth caught the clothes and quickly put them on. He was now dressed in Redwaters High colors, which didn't exactly thrill the punk in him.

Zain couldn't help but smile at the striking contrast between Garth's nonconformist persona and the ordinary high school attire.

"I kind of dig the look," Zain teased, amused.

Garth grunted slightly, but a smile spread across his lips.

"Don't get too used to this sight, I’d rather still be naked."

Zain smiled, remembering Hadrian in his training attire, shirtless, in his tight jersey shorts leaving very little to the imagination. " Redwaters boys and their aversion to clothes..." he thought, amused.

Returning to reality, he asked Garth:

"Let's not waste any time, how should we proceed?"

Garth approached Zain, a serious glint in his eyes: "What do we know for starters ?"

"This is where Marsha lives and practices magic with the Abundance sisters, according to what Fleur told me. If Marsha was drawing energy from the missing high schoolers, there's a good chance she’s been keeping them here."

"And you also said that Sienna, Fleur's ancestor and Hadrian's ex, now possesses Marsha's body…so we'd have a free rein?" Garth asked, analyzing the information they had.

"Not so sure," Zain replied, with a grave tone. "According to Hadrian, Sienna has a shady past and a tendency to see her plans through to the end, with little regard for collateral damage. If her possession of Marsha's body depends on the energy she draws from these high schoolers, we'd better keep a low profile if we want to get them out of here unharmed."

”So, basically, we're up against a centuries-old witch reincarnated into another witch fueled by the energy of star rugby players?" Asked Garth, a mixture of sarcasm and apprehension in his voice.

Zain smiled as he approached the rusty door, blocked by a padlock, leading from the rooftop to the lower floor of the loft. "Yes, and?"

Garth smiled in turn, positioning himself behind Zain who faced the door. The boy placed his hands in front of the padlock and closed his eyes, concentrating, trying to tap into his being, as he had done every time he had successfully manifested his gifts. The padlock began to tremble gently before abruptly swinging open. Zain looked at Garth, visibly impressed by his feat, then opened the door. "After you!"

Garth stepped ahead, a determined smile on his lips. "Okay, that was hot…" he murmured, his tone filled with newfound confidence.

————————

Ouray navigated through the dark corridors of the manor, frantically searching for the components needed to exorcise Marsha from Sienna's specter. With a determined gesture, he slid the coveted vial of holy water into a bag, under Hadrian's worried gaze.

"Where could Zain have gone if he's skipping classes?" inquired the immortal, his anxiety palpable.

With a smirk, Ouray pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and looked up at Hadrian. "Sometimes, modern technology is more useful than magic," he said conspiratorially. "I shared his location with myself just in case something happened to him."

Hadrian, surprised, exclaimed, "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because, it might be a bit tricky for you to keep an eye on someone you're in a relationship with," Ouray explained, eyes fixed on the screen of his phone. "Fortunately, that's not my case."

Hadrian nodded, concealing his relief behind a stoic facade. Knowing where Zain was at all times reassured him much more than the concern of being seen as clingy.

"Is it really that tricky if the person I'm seeing is the target of demonic pursuits across worlds?" he quipped sarcastically.

Ouray finally lifted his eyes from his phone, his impassive demeanor showing through. "It's still definitely stalker-ish," he admitted, before diving back into his quest to locate Zain.

Ouray's face froze in a surprised expression, immediately caught by Hadrian. "Do you know where he is?" he asked hastily.

"It seems he, along with Fleur, is at Marsha's place. But what could he possibly be doing there?" Ouray pondered, perplexed.

Hadrian replied without hesitation: "No time to dwell on that, let's get them out of there, right now!"

Hadrian sensed the danger lurking for Zain and Fleur if they crossed paths with Sienna down to his bones. The witch wielded formidable evil power, even more menacing if she discovered Zain and Fleur's crucial importance to Hadrian. Sienna's vengeful designs, forged by a painful past, loomed like dark clouds ready to destroy all who mattered to the immortal. Despite the burden of his own guilt, Hadrian categorically refused to let Sienna harm his loved ones.

Enduring torments and curses by himself was one thing, but letting his close friends, his family, fall into harm’s way was the limit we wouldn’t allow anyone to cross .

————————

Sienna wandered among the shelves of the Abundance bookstore, this feminist literary sanctuary that concealed Marsha and her coven's secret activities. Every step she took among the book racks echoed in the hushed silence of the shop. The book covers intrigued her, their contents belonging to a time so different from her own that it took her breath away.

Although she had inherited memories from the witch whose body she now inhabited, the confrontation with these social changes left her stunned. The provocative attire of Redwaters' inhabitants, the daring themes of the books on display around her, everything seemed like a fever dream.

Back in her time, discussing taboo topics like postpartum depression, fluid sexuality , or any spirituality outside the confines of imposed religion was unimaginable. These discussions were relegated to the brothels where she had spent most of her life, trapped in a dark and cruel reality. But here, everything seemed possible.

Sienna's resurrection in these strange times might have been a blessing in disguise, a chance for a fresh start. If only she could reclaim her own body and resurrect her sacrificed witch sisters on the altar of despair, this new beginning would be the miracle she desperately needed. Hope ignited within her...

Marsha's body, much older than her own, became an unbearable burden for Sienna. Every movement was a cruel reminder of the youth she had lost. The witch's clothing seemed in stark contrast with her advanced age, especially those high-heeled shoes that tore at her feet with every step.

Each day spent in this worn-out envelope was a trial. The constant pains mingled with the frustration of being trapped in a body that wasn't hers. Sienna felt confined in a too-tight shell, the marks of time and suffering etched into every fold of skin.

Sienna knew that to reclaim her body, resurrect her sisters, and exact her vengeance on Hadrian, she needed help. But despite her efforts, Marsha's other Abundance sisters seemed to have vanished into thin air, and she had no leads on the strange magic that had brought her back to life. Furthermore, Fleur, her last descendant, was not inclined to lend her any assistance.

But Sienna was a survivor, THE survivor, and her choices had always been driven by that instinct; today was no different. She recalled the time she hadn't hesitated to falsely accuse a dozen nobles of witchcraft, sending them to burn at the stake instead of her own coven, in London, five hundred years ago. That masterstroke had proven her determination and cunning and had secured all of their places aboard the ship bound for the New World.

It was time for her to snap out of the lethargic state in which this resurrection had plunged her and to reclaim what was rightfully hers, without caring who she would trample along the way. As always, she was ready to do whatever it took, prepared to crush anyone who stood in her path. Vengeance bubbled within her, an unquenchable flame eager to ravage those who had wronged her. The moment had come to awaken the relentless witch she had always been.

The little bell above the door jingled, signaling Rose's arrival, two large grocery bags in her hands. Sienna turned to her, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

"The two of us need to have a little chat" Sienna said.

Rose stepped closer, her pace quick, replying :"I've got ice cream starting to melt in the bags, can we do this later?"

As she moved to pass by her, Sienna blocked her path, facing her firmly, determined to have the conversation.

"Do you remember what you promised me, Rose? When you asked me to reveal the truth about Fleur's identity and why your mother hated the Willards? To tell you what your mother had kept from you all these years?" Asked the witch , her piercing eyes fixed on Rose.

Rose looked at her, intrigued. What could she possibly want from her now?

"I'm glad you’ve reunited with your sister, but you see, my sisters and my body are rotting away somewhere forgotten. And you, my dear, you promised to help me fix that!" Sienna continued, her voice sharp as a blade.

The atmosphere in the bookstore tensed, each word from Sienna resonating intensity. Rose felt the weight of the promise she had made suddenly uncomfortable than her dripping grocery bags.

"What do you want?" Rose asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.

"Where are the other sisters from your mother's Abundance witch group? I've tried to contact them, to no avail..." Sienna asked, her gaze fixed on Rose.

"I have no idea," Rose admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "My mother has always been very secretive about it, especially in recent years. As far as I know, they've all jumped ship because my mother is completely insane, and they'd be right to!"

"I need help Rose. If these women remain untraceable, you'll have to ask Fleur about the origin of my resurrection, about the magic that brought me back to life." Sienna looked at Rose with an intensely, her eyes burning with fierce determination.

Rose furrowed her brow, perplexed: "Why do you think Fleur knows anything about it?"

"Since my resurrection, the only informations I've gathered around town were that Fleur and my lineage have remained powerful witches in Redwaters," Sienna explained in a tense voice. "They've allied with Hadrian and his Native American sidekick. They seem to know what's goes on in town, moderate the changes... rather ironic coming from Hadrian considering the chaos he once caused here.
My return, this new magic appearing in our universe... Fleur must know something!"

"I've barely just met my sister," Rose declared with a hint of anger.

"Fleur lost her child and all trust in anyone thanks to you and my mother. I don't want to manipulate her into giving me information!"

Sienna stared at her, her cold gaze reminiscent of the one Marsha used to give her. In that moment, it was as if her mother, unpossessed, stood before her, in all her cruelty.

"Rose, all I'm asking of you is to get that information," Sienna insisted with a frosty voice. "I'm doing this out of grace for you and Fleur, it’s a simple request. But you must know that after this only gentle approach, I won’t hesitate to extract that answer in a much less civilized manner."

————————

Garth and Zain quietly descended the stairs from the rooftop into the loft's interior. They first reached the hallway leading to the living areas, and as they were about to continue their descent towards the loft's main room, Zain froze in front of the long corridor. Garth observed him in silence, his senses on high alert.

"What's wrong?" Garth murmured, his voice barely audible.

Zain remained silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on the dark corridor lined with black canvases on both sides. An ominous tension hung in the air. Garth felt his heart rate quicken, ready to react to any sign of danger.

"This hallway... there's a sinister energy here," Zain murmured.

With Garth's intrigued gaze upon him, Zain approached the paintings hanging on the walls. He studied the artworks, black canvases with some degraded reliefs, appearing worn out , feeling an inexplicable emotion washing over him.

"It's like they're pulsating with despair," he said, still gazing at the paintings.

"I don't think now's the time for an art critique, Zain," Garth retorted, not understanding where he was going with this.

"There's something supernatural about these paintings..." Zain replied, still captivated by the artworks.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by the opening of Rose's bedroom door at the end of the corridor. Fleur emerged, alerted by her own sinister feeling. The boys froze as the red-haired witch stepped out of the room to face them, all three shocked to find themselves face to face.

"Garth? Zain?! What are you two doing here?!" she exclaimed, surprised to see them.

A sigh of relief escaped the boys at her sight. Zain rushed towards her, relieved to finally see his friend safe and sound, after learning about the trials she had been through.

"Fleur! What are you doing here, I thought you were in the hospital!" Zain exclaimed .

"I was discharged this morning..." the witch replied, her anxiety palpable, but a smile lighting up her face at the sight of familiar faces.

"Glad to see that you seem better, Fleur,"Garth said, his features relaxing slightly.

"We're here because we believe Marsha is responsible for the disappearance of last year's rugby team players," Zain began, his tone serious. "I had a vision: someone is holding them captive and draining their life force. All signs point to Marsha."

Fleur, visibly troubled, admitted in turn:

"Since I arrived here, I've also felt something strange, hard to explain. I went out of the room to check it out..."

"And you were already here…because?" Garth asked, curious about why the witch was in the loft in the first place.

“I found out that I had a half-sister, Marsha's daughter, but she's nothing like her mother, so not an evil sociopath. Long story..." Fleur summarized as quickly as possible to provide context. Garth looked at her, stunned, while Zain, seemingly in a trance, now ignored them, moving from one painting to another, scrutinizing the black canvases.

"I think it's these artworks..."Zain affirmed, his voice tense.

"You think the players are hidden in a room behind these?" Garth asked, trying to keep up.

"No, within the paintings themselves ," Zain replied.

Fleur and Garth exchanged incredulous glances, their eyes widened in surprise. Before them, Zain, his eyelids closed, seemed to delve into a concentration so deep it was almost palpable. His hands rested on one of the black canvases, and immediately a mysterious energy surged beneath his fingertips, vibrating softly before completely enveloping him. Mystical pulses ran through his body, plunging him in a whirlwind of sensations.

Suddenly, flashes of images struck him forcefully. Blurry visions succeeded one another at dizzying speed, pulling him into a visual maelstrom. There, in the brilliant clarity of his visions, he saw Marsha, surrounded by her circle of abundance witches, engaged in ancient and powerful rituals. The scene shifted, revealing Marsha conversing with each witch individually, in that same corridor where the canvases were once pristine white.

The visions grew darker and more oppressive. Zain saw Marsha, a malevolent gleam in her eyes, imprisoning the witches one by one, magically trapping them within the canvases. With each imprisonment, the color of the paintings shifted from white to black, a sinister sign of their capture. These images were so vivid and suffocating that Zain felt the darkness of the canvases pulling at him, as if their curse sought to take over him as well.

"Marsha... she trapped them," he murmured, his eyes still closed, his face contorted with the effort of maintaining the connection. "Not just the players, before that... all the abundance witches... to fuel her own magic... they're all dead."

Fleur and Garth, shocked by the gravity of Zain's revelations, drew closer to him, their eyes fixed on his movements. Zain approached one last painting, its shades of black tinged with orange, and placed his hands upon it. Once again, he was assaulted by the same visions as before.

In this new vision, he saw Conrad at the center of a dark room, surrounded by several members of the rugby team wearing their high school jackets. A candle burned in front of each of them, arranged in a circle. He could feel the life slowly draining from their bodies, and a sense of death washed over him. Zain pulled away from the painting, shattered, and opened his eyes to face Fleur and Garth, both transfixed by the scene.

"They're in this canvas, trapped," Zain declared, his voice trembling. "They're living their final moments. We have to get them out of there!"

"Easier said than done... We don't know what kind of magic she used to trap them..." announced Fleur, her stomach twisted with the extent of Marsha's cruelty, trapping and killing members of her own circle of witches.

"It's a portal..." Zain realized , illumination in his eyes. "I came here through a portal. My body, my powers... I think my essence must have retained a trace of that magic..."

Fleur and Garth looked at him, concerned. The Kinnara asked, "Do you think you could enter the painting and get them out?"

Zain looked at them, his face marked by the pain of the horrifying visions, and replied:

"I have to try..."

He placed both hands on the canvas again, concentrating intensely, recalling the night he arrived in Redwaters, his fall before crashing onto the grass in the clearing. He closed his eyes, trying to feel the same emotions he had experienced when he was transported out of his world. That feeling of nothingness that once took over him... Suddenly, his eyes began to glow with a violet halo, as did his hands against the painting. The violet energy intensified around him, enveloping him completely. Fleur and Garth, stunned, stepped back as Zain's body was traversed by the mysterious mystical wave.

Suddenly, Zain's hands penetrated the canvas, and he was pulled inside the painting, disappearing before the eyes of his friends.

"Wow..." Garth gasped, impressed.

"Let's hope he can manage it..." Fleur murmured , worried about how things were unfolding.

Footsteps echoed on the stairs. Garth and Fleur quickly turned around. Rose appeared, her arms laden with grocery bags, her face pale and visibly upset. She froze in her tracks, stunned upon seeing Garth.

"Fleur, who is this?" she demanded sharply.

"A friend, he came to visit me… Garth, this is my sister, Rose" Fleur replied quickly, her eyes flashing with worry.

But Rose didn't seem to pay attention. She rushed toward her sister, panic etched on her face.

"Fleur, we need to leave … fast !"

"What's going on?" Fleur asked, her heart pounding.

"It's Sienna. She's starting to show her true colors... She wanted me to extract information from you about her resurrection. I don't think you're safe here..."

Rose's words hit Fleur like a slap. Without hesitation, she decided to reveal everything.

"Listen, you might as well hear the truth... it seems Marsha was using the Abundance witches and the missing high school athletes to drain their life force and generate powers..." Rose's eyes widened in horror as Fleur continued. "She's trapped them in these paintings..." She pointed to the canvases hanging on the walls.

Rose stared at them, petrified.

“ it's too late for the Abundance sisters, they're all dead...” Fleur added in a somber voice.

“My God! That's why Sienna was desperately searching for them in vain…” Rose muttered , disgusted.

“But the high school athletes still stand a chance. A friend is trying to get them out of there…”

“You mean he's inside the painting?” asked Rose, stunned.

Garth and Fleur nodded, their anxiety evident.

“We need to leave before Sienna realizes that your friend is trying to cut off Marsha's connection to her magic generator…” Rose insisted , as panic was rising.

Fleur tried to gather her thoughts, but Garth took the lead:

"Fleur, I’ll wait for Zain here. We’ll evacuate the players as soon as they come out of the painting. Rose, you and Fleur need to go immediately!"

"He’s right, Fleur. Let’s go!" urged Rose.

Garth locked eyes with Fleur: "Don’t worry about us. If we’re not back in half an hour, just alert Ouray and Hadrian!"

Fleur stood frozen for a moment, but Rose grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the stairs. The red-haired witch followed her sister, casting one last look at the long corridor lined with paintings where Garth awaited Zain’s return.

————————

Fleur and Rose rushed down the spiral staircase, their hearts pounding. As they entered the expansive main room of the loft, they found Sienna standing before them, halting their progress. The witch, inhabiting Marsha's body, fixed them with a suspicious gaze and asked:

"Where do you think you're going in such a hurry?"

"The ice cream melted, we need to get more!" stammered Rose, pulling Fleur's arm to urge her towards the exit. But Sienna blocked their path again, declaring:

"Not so fast. I'd like us to have a little chat, the three of us..."

Fleur stepped forward, with a defiant look in her eyes, and replied:

"I thought I had already made myself clear on the matter, I’m not interested..."

Sienna shot her a dark look before retorting, "I believe it's time that i made myself clear as well. I'm not giving you much of a choice."

Fleur stood her ground, her confidence unwavering, while Rose began to panic. The redheaded witch then addressed Sienna with a tone of unmistakable resolve:

"Listen to me carefully . You might have been the origin of my lineage, but today, you're nothing more than a purple specter squatting in the body of a deranged woman whose powers are dwindling before our eyes. I, on the other hand, am a Willard witch. So you better step aside before I make you regret your return from the dead."

"Let her go, Sienna!"

That voice echoed through the room, striking Sienna like a thunderclap. She turned, her heart pounding wildly.

Hadrian and Ouray stood there, their imposing presence filling the space. She had never thought she would see Hadrian again, the one who had marked her past with such indelible wounds. A flood of bitter memories overwhelmed her, plunging her into sharp, icy pain.

"My cursed lover..." she spat through clenched teeth, her eyes blazing with rage. She glared at Hadrian, the men she had once been so close to…and now hated like no other.

Hadrian was stunned. More than five centuries had passed, but he could easily recognize Sienna's hateful gaze, even concealed behind Marsha's features. The last time they had seen each other, that same look had pierced him to the core.

Taking advantage of the diversion, Ouray rushed to Fleur, concern etched on his face. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Fleur sighed in relief at the sight of her mentor: "Yes, but we need to buy time for Zain to get the missing high school players out of here. They're the source of Marsha's power…" she whispered urgently.

Sienna, however, couldn’t not take her eyes off Hadrian.

"How dare you stand before me after everything you put me through, myself and the entire colony!" she screamed, her voice breaking with anger and pain. Hadrian lowered his eyes, crushed by the weight of his past mistakes.

"Sienna, I'm sorry. I didn't know what would happen, I never meant to hurt you or anyone else ..." he began to explain, but Sienna cut him off sharply.

"Shut up! You're nothing but miserable scum! You destroyed my life, my only chance at happiness!" Sienna's words were daggers, and Hadrian felt each blow with painful clarity. He longed to apologize, to explain, but he knew nothing could ever erase the suffering he had caused.

"We mean you no harm!" Ouray interjected, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "It's Marsha we're after!"

Sienna whirled around to face him, her eyes blazing with defiance.

"Unless you have my original body to offer me in exchange, we’re about to have a problem!" she declared with chilling determination.

Sensing the urgency of the situation, Ouray turned to Fleur and ordered firmly: "Get out of here, now!"

Sienna's eyes turned pitch black, an evil veil enveloping her gaze. She screamed, her voice echoing with a dark power: "No one is leaving!"

Without missing a beat, Ouray frantically rummaged through his satchel and pulled out a vial of holy water. He hurled it with all his might at Sienna. The vial shattered against her skin, releasing a cloud of steam as the sacred liquid made contact. Raising his arms toward her, Ouray began chanting with intense fervor:

"Incipit exorcismus!"

Sienna collapsed to the ground, her body convulsing under the grip of unseen forces. Ouray stepped toward her, relentless, his arms extended in a gesture of dominance. Continuing to chant in a resonant voice, he issued the sacred command:

"Discede ab hoc corpore, spiritus!"

Meanwhile, despite the chaos around him, Hadrian scanned the loft, inspecting every corner with feverish precision. His heart pounded, a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. Where could Zain possibly be?

————————

Zain was plunged into total darkness, the suffocating smell of sulfur saturating the air so heavily that it made him dizzy. Each step was measured and cautious as he tried to discern any clue in this oppressive void . The distress emanating from Conrad his team mates, trapped somewhere in this dark labyrinth, was palpable, yet he couldn’t reach them yet.

After what felt like an eternity, a flickering light appeared in the distance: a circle of candles casting a weak and trembling glow. Zain quickened his pace, hope rekindling within him. As he approached, he finally discovered the boys from his visions, lying on the ground, unconscious. Their pale faces betrayed the shadow of death hovering over them.

Zain rushed to them with a pounding heart. He went straight to Conrad, determined to wake him up. But as soon as he crossed the circle of candles, a violet flash erupted from the candelabras, and the flames turned purple. Zain collapsed to the ground, feeling a dark force siphoning his life energy, draining his powers just like it had the other players, weakening him significantly.

Despite the overwhelming fatigue, Zain didn't lose sight of his goal. He gathered his remaining strength and moved closer to Conrad, shaking him gently. Exhaustion gripped every fiber of his being, but he knew they had to escape this cursed place as quickly as possible.

At the same moment, in the main room of the loft, Ouray stood over Sienna, who lay sprawled on the ground, the shaman still chanting with his arms outstretched towards her:

"Libera hunc corpus!"

Marsha's body twisted convulsively, on the brink of releasing Sienna's spirit when suddenly, a violent purple mystic wave surged through her, infusing her with an unprecedented power. The sorceress, disturbed and surprised, was then bombarded with various visions. Zain's face appeared to her in violent flashes, showing her his arrival in Redwaters through the portal, the violet wave that had emanated from him upon landing, the resurrection of the white wolves, as well as her own resurrection, and various glimpses of Zain's life. She could see the boy's first encounter with Hadrian, their first kiss, and their dance in the speakeasy and feel the magnitude of their connection.

The visions and waves of power overwhelmed Sienna like chaotic shocks, causing her to waver as she struggled to maintain control. Ouray, Hadrian, Rose, and Fleur watched, mouths agape, while uncertainty hung in the air.
Was all this the effect of the exorcism attempt, or was something far greater and more terrifying unfolding before their eyes?

Suddenly, Sienna regained control of her senses, her body pulsating with renewed energy, her eyes shining with a hypnotic violet glow.

She scrutinized the anxious faces of the group around her and declared in a voice charged with mystery: "I believe the rules just have changed."

With a powerful yet simple gesture, she sent Ouray flying across the room, crashing violently against a wall. Fleur rushed towards him, checking his condition while Rose stood frozen in fear.

Sienna then finally turned to Hadrian, a mischievous smile playing on her lips, and declared with a voice filled with challenge:

"It's time for a real reunion!"

Sienna extended her arms towards Hadrian, her eyes burning with a ruthless glow as she targeted his legs.

With a swift and brutal motion, she snapped his tibia in a horrible crack, tearing a scream of agony from the immortal as he collapsed to the ground.

A demonic laugh escaped Sienna's lips as she advanced towards him, watching with delight as her victim writhed in pain.

"I finally understand now…why your curse seemed to be soothing …weakening…" she sneered, her gaze glinting with cruel satisfaction.

"I saw it! That boy is truly extraordinary, he holds incredible power! I can feel it coursing through my veins! It's exhilarating!"

With another swift motion, she extended her hand towards Hadrian once more, this time breaking his arm with yet another abominable cracking sound. Hadrian let out another cry, writhing on the ground as Sienna looked at her handiwork with a wicked smile, savoring every moment of her revenge.

Gasping for breath, Rose rushed to Fleur, who was crouched beside Ouray, his face smeared with blood as he gradually regained his senses.

A sudden revelation struck Rose, as she urgently articulated :"I think that in trying to free the boys from the painting, your friend has become a channel for Marsha's magic too, and now Sienna must be using his powers. We need to get him out of there immediately!"

Fleur and Ouray locked eyes, alarmed and acutely aware of the imminent danger now that Zain's immense powers were in Sienna's evil hands.

————————

In the hallway upstairs , Garth paced in anguish , the echoes of the battles below reverberating around him. The urgency of the situation gripped him, as he felt his fear mounting at the monumental task that lay before Zain: to free all those high school students from the painting. What if the boy himself remained trapped within the canvas, unable to escape?

The Kinnara approached the painting, placing his hands on the darkened surface, but was met with its impenetrability.

"Come on, Zain," he murmured, worried. "You can do this..." he repeated to reassure himself.

The tense silence was punctuated by Hadrian's screams from below, as the painting suddenly seemed to come to life, causing Garth to step back. His face lit up as he saw a first student emerge from the canvas, visibly battered, followed by a second, then a third, and finally a fourth, before Conrad appeared, accompanied by Zain, visibly exhausted, his face pale but imbued with the satisfaction of a duty fulfilled.

The staggering high school students, guided by Garth and Zain, made their way to Rose's room, where they collapsed in exhaustion.

Garth was watching Zain all along, in awe of his resilience.

In the main room, Sienna, in a demonic trance, relished the physical pain she inflicted upon Hadrian. Once again, she extended her arm towards him, aiming to break another limb, as he writhed in excruciating agony, but much to her surprise, her gesture was pointless . She repeated the motion, again in vain; no power seemed to emanate from her anymore.

The change did not escape Fleur, Ouray, and Rose’s notice, who understood that Zain must have succeeded in his endeavor, and that any magical connection to Marsha's body was finally severed.

Ouray rushed behind Sienna, while she was still facing Hadrian, and even though her magic no longer worked, she didn’t need any to still deliver violent kicks to her ex lover’s abdomen as he writhed helplessly on the floor. The Shaman saw in her blind rage towards him his last chance to finish the exorcism, and stretching his arms towards the witch, he yelled:

"Anima statim libera!"

A powerful flash of lightning pierced through Sienna, catapulting her spirit out of Marsha's body, which collapsed abruptly on the floor.

The spectral silhouette of Sienna, freed from her corporeal prison, stood before the group, electrifying the atmosphere with her unsettling presence.

"One last chance it seems!" she whispered with a devilish smile, advancing inexorably towards Rose. Her spectral hands seized the young girl as she intoned the incantation: "Possidere!"

As Sienna's spirit infiltrated Rose's body, the girl was seized by violent convulsions. A cry of despair escaped Fleur as her newfound sister's eyes snapped shut, only to reopen, now tainted with a sinister purple glow.

Sienna, now mistress of her new vessel, casted one final malevolent glance at the group, a twisted smile curling her lips, before hastily fleeing the loft, her footsteps echoing like an ominous reverberation in the oppressive sudden silence.

Zain dashed down the stairs with desperate fervor, his heart pounding, each step echoing like a war drum. As he entered the main room, the scene before him left him speechless : Hadrian, the indomitable immortal, laye nearly unconscious on the floor with terrifying wounds.

Without any hesitation, Zain knelt beside him, his hands trembling with fear as he gently cradled Hadrian's head in his lap. Infinite tenderness imbued each of his movements, his own heart constricting at the vulnerability of the man for whom he had developed such strong feelings for.

Despite the pain crushing him, Hadrian's eyes lit up at the simple sight of Zain. A soft, comforting light passed through the immortal's eyes, soothing his suffering. Zain's hand naturally found its way to Hadrian's bloodied cheek, delivering a caress as light as a feather yet as powerful as a promise.

"It's going to be okay," Zain murmured , his voice gentle but filled with fierce determination. "We're getting out of here..."

"I know... you're here now..." Hadrian replied, breathless, but his eyes gleamed with relief and unwavering devotion. As Zain continued to tenderly stroke his cheek, the unusual bond between them strengthened.

Fleur and Ouray cast disdainful glances at Marsha, still unconscious on the floor.

Rage simmering within her, Fleur turned to her mentor and asked:

"And what are we going to do with her? The police aren't equipped to handle a monster like this!"

"Don't worry, I've taken care of it..." responded Ouray, his tone chillingly confident.

As Fleur stared at him in disbelief, the sound of heels echoed in the hallway. Darcey, Fleur's grandmother, then entered, surrounded by men in black suits, guns in hands.

Darcey moved with a cold elegance, while her men were already seizing Marsha, who was slowly regaining consciousness and being roughly dragged out of the loft towards the unknown.

"You alerted the Order?" Fleur asked, incredulous.

Hadrian's heart tightened in his chest at the sight of Darcey and her men. He knew he had to keep the Order as far away from Zain as possible. The secretive organization for which he and Ouray had carried out several paranormal missions had obvious hidden agendas, and the arrival of someone as special as Zain in their universe would undoubtedly pique their curiosity, something he was desperately trying to avoid.

Darcey cast a grateful glance at Ouray, who had given her the opportunity to handle herself this matter so dear to her heart. Moving towards her granddaughter, she gently took her by the shoulders, her eyes reflecting a mix of relief and a tenderness only known to few.

"It's over... I'll take care of it now. Carolina can finally rest in peace. It's truly over." she murmured with infinite gentleness, as if to soothe the pains of the past.

Darcey finally hugged Fleur, and at these words, the young witch bursted into tears. Justice had finally been served for her mother, and in the comforting embrace of her grandmother, she felt the weight of the pain lighten. For the first time, she realized that vengeance was complete, and a new peace was beginning to dawn on the horizon...

————————

On the other side of the portal - Zain's dimension

Beyond the endless stretches of sand, past the majestic mountains sculpted by time, far from the splendor of the Royal Palace, lay the territory of the Dazaris. Their imposing silhouettes moved in a tumultuous ballet, clad in desert-hued leather armor, their faces masked by clay ornaments. At the heart of this seething chaos, roaring forges created formidable weapons, their gleam reflecting the fierce determination of these barbarian warriors.

Like an ocean of restless ants, hundreds of thousands of soldiers bustled about, their concealed features lending them a menacing aura. Every gesture, every movement, was imbued with unwavering conviction, for behind their masks burned the flame of vengeance and conquest.

Across the wild expanses, where the skies merged with the lands, marched this tribe of nomadic warriors. Their footsteps echoed on forgotten trails, carrying with them the fervent will to fulfill the prophecy. Once flourishing kingdoms had crumbled under the weight of their tireless quest, and distant lands had been subjected to their relentless will.

The Peris, so named for their destiny marked by perpetual flight, had wandered through the ages, bearing the burden of the birth of the Decipherer. Their steps had touched the scorching sands of deserts and the dark forests where the whispers of their ancestors echoed. But it was on a fateful night that their destiny had shifted.

Bashar, once revered king of the Peris, had betrayed his own. In the shadows, he had conspired with dark forces, offering his own blood to seal an unholy pact with the Dazaris. Alongside his eldest sons, he had plotted to deliver his own child, Zain, to those who coveted the power of the Decipherer.

Yet, amidst this tableau of betrayal, Queen Uma remained the last bastion of hope. In an act of unwavering bravery, she had orchestrated the escape of her beloved son, concealing him from the relentless trackers. And thus, Zain had vanished into the mists of oblivion, elusive to the greedy eyes of those who sought to unravel the mystery of his powers.

But for the Dazaris, with the king of the Peris and his two eldest sons now among their ranks, the hunt persisted. They were merely regrouping, impatient and determined, awaiting the moment to locate the fugitive prince.

In the hollow of a dark mountain, a mystical green fire crackled, casting its eerie glow on Bashar's violet eyes. The fallen king of the Peris, with his imposing stature, bore features reminiscent of his son Zain, yet more matured and hardened by a life of power. His graying hair was wrapped in a keffiyeh the color of the sand.

Bashar looked deeply into the flames, in silence, a deep resentment burning within him.

He blamed Zain and his wife for leading him into exile. Peace would only come once his son was delivered to the Dazaris, thus saving his people from an inevitable war should they refuse to submit.

Bashar could never understand how a being as insignificant as he viewed Zain could possess such incredible powers, nor why his wife harbored such an unwavering maternal affection for their son. He envied their unbreakable bond, Zain's undeserved gifts, and the desperate situation he found himself in as a result of their choices.

Suddenly, a soldier with a clay-masked face approached Bashar, pulling him from his contemplation.

In a voice deep enough to make the mountains tremble, he declared without delay: "The Decipherer’s dark magic seems to have been activated! We have a lead on his location!"

For the first time in weeks, a smile appeared on Bashar's lips. It seemed that even Uma couldn't keep her precious Zain hidden forever.

Soon, he would reclaim his rightful place, and his son would become nothing more than a distant memory, erased by time.

 

————————

Thank you for reading!

Can’t wait for your feedbacks!