Welcome to Redwaters - 5. Chapter 5

Fleur was pale, her complexion perfectly reflecting the turmoil within her. The young witch sneaked discreetly into the Creeks, which had been closed for several hours, to access her secret room, a sanctuary where she could assimilate her recent discoveries in complete privacy. Having already informed Elliot that she would spend the night at Hadrian's to comfort him over his supposed breakup, she was determined to use this time to follow this new lead that had presented itself.

Fleur was now convinced that her mother was genuinely trying to convey a message to her, urging her to open her eyes in her subconscious. The spell she had performed with Ouray revealed to her that Carolina had been associated with the witches of Abundance. She was certain that this group held crucial information about the circumstances surrounding her mother's death, and perhaps even the reasons that might have driven her, if Garth's theory proved correct, to create the magic-free zone where she had tragically taken her last breath.

Fleur was astounded by the lack of consideration Ouray and Hadrian shown her. She, who had judged Darcey so harshly for her absence, was beginning to reassess her opinion of her. At least her grandmother had the honesty to distance herself from her instead of feigning a false sense of closeness, as she felt the Shaman had done with her.

"Ouray and Darcey together... what an absurd idea, and why so many needless secrets?" she wondered, exhausted by this never-ending evening as dawn approached. But Fleur didn't have the luxury of analyzing in detail all the reasons fueling her anger towards her two friends. She had work to do, a spell to cast, and this time she knew where to start.

Fleur took the large city map she had already used to locate the clearing, as evidenced by the charred hole that had indicated the location in question. Placing the unfolded map on the magnificent Persian rug, she lit a candle and burned sage all around her, just above the city's representation. Her anger made her more confident, her actions precise, her concentration heightened. Fleur took the small pink mini army knife, nestled in her pants pocket, and cut her palm. A grimace of pain contorted her face, as she noted, disenchanted : "it really seems less painful on TV." Her blood flowed onto the map as she began her incantation with a determined voice: "Abundatita maleficis, iter revelatum!"

Drops of blood began to trace a path on the map, following their route until they stopped at a specific point at the edge of the city. Fleur sighed. She would have to drive a long way, but she had managed to find the lair of these witches her mother had once seemingly frequented, and she was about to get the answers to her questions. She didn't need Ouray or Hadrian's help, she could very well ride solo, and was about to prove it, she thought as she left the room, her face filled with renewed determination.

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Hadrian parked his Jeep a few meters from the rear entrance of the Willard's old residence. Darcey had finally given in and sold the property several years ago, overwhelmed by the painful memories associated with it. The immortal had spent a sleepless night, unlike Zain, who, after going through his wardrobe, had finally fallen into a deep sleep. Hadrian, on the other hand, had chosen to investigate, unable to find rest.

He cast a nostalgic glance at the abandoned house, where life seemed to have violently frozen, a place suspended in time. It was where Carolina, that free spirit and caring mother to Fleur, had lived. Hadrian felt overwhelmed with emotion as he took one last look at the dilapidated building. He was determined to explore the area in the wake of their recent discoveries. He wanted to delineate the perimeter where magic had supposedly lost all effect and potentially find clues that had eluded them in the past. The mystery surrounding Carolina's murder seemed to be finally unraveling, and Hadrian was determined to solve it. He owed it to Fleur, he thought as he walked the path at the entrance to the forest, just a few steps away from his friend's former home.

Hadrian ventured into the forest, recalling the shock he had felt upon learning of Carolina's death. At the time, he and Ouray had already left town for quite some time, but they regularly kept in touch. They had actually spoken to Carolina just days before her murder, and she then sounded so happy on the phone, rediscovering a zest for life she had lost since her divorce from Fleur's father, that insignificant man who had since abandoned his daughter.

Suddenly, Hadrian's heart raced, but it wasn't anger at the injustice of his friend's tragic disappearance that triggered this reaction, he realized for the first time. He had crossed the invisible threshold of the magic-free zone. To confirm the discovery, Hadrian took a few steps back, which immediately calmed the frantic beating of his heart. It was incredible!

He knew he couldn't linger inside the perimeter. Being sustained by occult forces, the absence of magic would eventually have a fatal effect on him. But Hadrian knew he could inspect the area for a few minutes, as he had done in the past. The experience had been unpleasant, even painful, but not fatal, assuming he didn't stay there too long, thought the immortal as he approached this place that exerted an undeniable fascination over him.

Indeed, he, burdened by his curse every day, condemned to perpetual suffering, weighed down by his guilt, was facing the possibility of ending it for the first time, thanks to this place that had the power to eliminate him. Hadrian was ashamed to admit that he had considered the idea since he had discovered the existence of such a place...

His heart raced faster, and Hadrian continued his advance, his breath becoming increasingly short. His gaze suddenly fixed on a wooden cabin slightly hidden behind the trees to his right. It was the first time he had seen any kind of structure there, he was certain of it.

Hadrian straddled the fallen logs on the trail in his way and pushed through the tall grass, stepping over it to reach the cabin. This run-down shack must belong to hunters, thought the immortal as he approached to learn more. He walked toward the old makeshift structure's front door and tried to open it, but in vain, a lock blocking his entry.

Hadrian, growing weaker due to the magical barrier, felt his strength wane. Despite that, he circled the cabin in search of a window that would allow him to peek inside. His face was dripping with sweat, his breath was uneven. As he moved forward, he noticed a porthole covered in a layer of dust obscuring the view, making it impossible to attempt to see what was inside. Realizing that in his current condition, he was unable to force the door open, Hadrian began to look for a stone to break the small window and attempt entering the cabin.

As he crouched down to pick up a suitable rock, a shadow fell abruptly upon him. A violent blow from a rifle butt smashed against the back of his head, causing searing pain. The impact’s frce was so great that Hadrian immediately lost consciousness, collapsing onto the green grass, his skull covered in blood, as darkness engulfed him, plunging him into unconsciousness.

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Fleur finally arrived at her destination, a surprised look on her face as she parked her car in front of the location indicated by the spell. Before her stood a small bookstore named "Abundance." A sense of confusion overcame her. How could she end up in front of a bookstore specializing in what looked like fertility books when she was looking for the gathering place of the Abundance witches? Had there been an error in the spell? How could she have gone wrong? She had used a powerful location spell, not a faulty phone app... Had she missed a step in her casting due to fatigue, or had she simply been mistaken in thinking she could do it on her own?

Discouraged, Fleur rested her head on the steering wheel, letting out an exhausted sigh. At that very moment, her car's blaring horn jolted her, making her jump in her seat and bringing her back to reality. If she had come all this way, the witch felt she should at least explore this lead to its end, resigning herself to leave her vehicle and head into the bookstore, albeit with little conviction.

Fleur entered the shop, triggering the chime hanging above the door. The main room of the store was small, bathed in a delicate dim light. Rustic shelves held a variety of books on meditation, spirituality, grief management, and other similar subjects, surrounded by various plants that created a serene and calming atmosphere. The exposed brick walls were adorned with canvases displaying inspiring and positive quotes that seemed to exude a benevolent energy.

A young woman in her twenties, with glasses perched on her nose and brown hair tied up in a messy bun, was leaning behind the counter, opening a box at the back of the room. Startled by the chime, she looked up and was surprised to see Fleur.

"You're up bright and early, aren't you? We're not open yet. Come back in an hour!" she exclaimed toward the witch while continuing to open the box with a cutter.

Fleur continued her approach, feeling uncertain about how to obtain the information she needed, increasingly convinced that she had taken the wrong path.

"I don't want to bother you. I'm not here for a book; I'm just looking for some information about this place," Fleur said, uncertain.

The young woman raised her head from the box to look at her, seemingly not understanding her question.

"Has this always been a bookstore?" Fleur asked.

"It would be presumptuous to say always, but this space has been in my family for over forty years, if that's what you're asking," she replied while taking several books out of the box she had opened a few moments earlier.

Over forty years...I must indeed be mistaken thought Fleur... She attempted one last approach.

"Is there a nearby meeting place for..." she began.

"If you're looking for the Narcotics Anonymous meeting, it's down the street, and it doesn't start until one o'clock," the young woman interrupted, without looking up from the books she was carefully examining.

"I'm looking for the meeting place of the Abundance witches. Does that ring a bell?" Fleur asked, finally determined to ask bluntly as a last resort.

The young woman finally raised her eyes from her books and gently placed them back on the counter, looking at Fleur, clearly intrigued by her question.

"Who are you?" she asked suspiciously.

"My name is Fleur Willard, and I have reasons to believe that my mother used to come here when she was younger..."

The bookseller stared at her closely, suspisciously. Fleur could sense that her question had elicited a strange reaction from this woman.

"I think I may be able to help you," she finally uttered.

Fleur was stunned; it seemed she hadn't made this journey for nothing after all. The young brunette quickly opened the drawer in front of her, below the cash register, searching for something.

"Really?! I thought I had really gotten the wrong place..." Fleur began to confess, but before she could finish her sentence, the stranger blew a green powder that she had gotten from the drawer in Fleur’s face, causing her to immediately lose consciousness.

Fleur collapsed, unconscious, on the floor of the bookstore.

The mysterious woman then hurried to the front door and carefully locked it, then turned the sign indicating that the store was open, before lowering the blinds to cover the glass part of the door, plunging the already dimly lit room into total darkness.

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Elliot had spent a restless night and woke up equally as troubled. He was convinced he had seen Fleur through the window of their apartment, arriving at Creeks in the middle of the previous night, while he was smoking a cigarette - a secret habit that he occasionally indulged in, unbeknownst to the young woman.

In the past two days, Elliot hadn't seen much of his fiancée, especially since Hadrian returned to town, and it weighed on him more than he was willing to admit. He had never been a possessive or co-dependent man, but he had also never been so deeply in love with someone in his life, and he terribly missed his beloved, as if he hadn't seen her in weeks.

Elliot had grown accustomed to spending all his free moments with her, sharing their days, laughing together at the most absurd details. The fact that she was absent so often while he was starting a new phase of his life as a police officer left him with a devastating sense of emptiness. "You're being silly," he reasoned with himself. He could perfectly understand that Fleur needed to reconnect with her best friend back in town, to console him after his breakup with his boyfriend. Hadrian would probably do the same for her, and there was nothing abnormal about it.

But that didn't explain why Fleur would show up at the Creeks so late, well after it closed, if not to come home? And why couldn't he reach her this morning when he tried to call her? Was he right to be worried, or was he just jealous that she decided to spend time with anyone other than him?

His world revolved entirely around Fleur, making him irrational. Perhaps she had just come to pick up a bottle of alcohol from the Creeks' stock for her night with her friends, he tried to reason with himself. And her phone must be off because of their late-night party. There was no reason to think that something had happened to her, especially since she had warned him in advance that she might spend the night at Hadrian's.

Elliot needed to learn to respect her space, to avoid becoming the cliché of the suffocating fiancé who would inevitably push her away. He suddenly realized that he was far from his wild college years being a player to all the girls on campus. But at that time, no Fleur Willard had crossed his path yet. He remembered with vivid clarity their first meeting. She exuded confidence and nonchalance, a natural charm that required no effort, and she was so beautiful. He was immediately captivated, while she barely seemed to notice him.

He recalled their first date, how he felt both at ease and disarmed in her presence, her contagious laughter, and the pretty pastel blue dress she wore, which made her green eyes stand out, making him blush like a child every time they settled on him.

Asking Fleur to marry him was the best decision he had ever made, Elliot had never been so sure of anything in his life. That's why he was so disappointed when his mother, Patricia, disapproved of his choice, deeming him too young for such a commitment. This arbitrary stance had created a glacial atmosphere and a great distance between her and Fleur, depriving his mother of the opportunity to truly get to know her.

Elliott's mother even refused to give her son the family ring that his grandmother had left to him in anticipation of his future marriage. But the young man eventually had his way, not caring in the least about his mother's opinion of the woman who, without a doubt, was the love of his life. Patricia Samuels was the last person who could offer advice on love or relashionships, given the endless list of idiots she had chosen to marry one after the other. Elliot never missed an opportunity to remind her of that whenever she made disparaging remarks about Fleur.

Elliott was eager to start his own family with his fiancée. He hoped that one day he could offer their future children the stability that had been sorely lacking in their respective childhoods, so they could finally turn the page on their painful pasts, together. The young officer quickly finished his cup of coffee before heading out. He would give Fleur space starting tomorrow, but today, he had to make sure she was safe.

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Zaîn woke up with difficulty, his eyelids slowly lifting to confront the intense morning light now flooding the guest room where he had finally collapsed hours earlier.

The young man's mind was filled with a certain confusion. "Where am I?" he wondered, struggling to recognize the outlines of the space around him. Was his incredible adventure from the night before even real? Had he really been transported to this new world through a magical portal? Had he been pursued by a ruthless giant spider and then rescued by a group of mysterious strangers who, initially hostile, had eventually taken him in? And had he truly lost a significant portion, if not all, of his past memories? But above all, was he left to his own devices in this improbable adventure?

A brutal feeling of panic seized him, twisting his being as if fear had suddenly struck him. The boy, who had been lying on the bed until then, sat up, placing a trembling hand on his chest and attempting to take deep breaths to calm his anxiety, step by step. His heart, which had been racing like a wild symphony, gradually began to calm down, as did his breathing, as Zain slowly came back to himself. What a dreadful awakening, he noted nervously.

He was at Hadrian's. Hadrian... Hadrian, Ouray, and Fleur had saved him. Zain had remembered that it was his nineteenth birthday the day before, and he had discovered his magical abilities that he hadn't yet mastered... A good start, all in all...

His mind was beginning to clear, but his body still bore the marks of the events from the previous day. Although this new world had only one sun, the lonely celestial body was performing its role as well as the two he seemed to be accustomed to, intensifying his headache and flooding the room with its dazzling light.

Zaîn painfully left the bed, furrowing his brows to protect his eyes while massaging his temples. He felt an urgent need to freshen up to dispel the fog clouding his vision.

The young man now stood in the bathroom, letting the cool water caress his face, slowly reviving his mental faculties, piecing together the missing parts of the puzzle of the events that had led him to this precise moment.

Zaîn looked at his reflection in the mirror when his attention was drawn to a bright green sticky note attached to the glass, bearing an inscription in black ink. Intrigued, he peeled off the piece of paper and tried to decipher its content.

In the same way as when he first had heard Fleur, Ouray, and Hadrian speak in their language for the first time, the inscription on the small piece of paper initially seemed completely incomprehensible. But as he stared at the mysterious characters etched on the green paper, he felt as if these enigmatic symbols were magically levitating in the air, penetrating his mind, lifting an invisible veil, and eventually allowing him to understand their meaning.

"Coffee in the kitchen" he finally managed to decipher. The word was signed with a simple "H."

Zaîn flashed a smile. He had no idea what that "coffee" Hadrian was referring to in his note was, but he hoped it might help alleviate his pounding headache.

The young man adjusted the blue silk pajama pants borrowed from Hadrian, tightening them around his waist and shortening them slightly by rolling the elastic band, to avoid tripping over the oversized piece of clothing, then left the bathroom.

Zain walked into the spacious kitchen and made his way to the imposing beige marble central island. On it sat a filled coffee pot, a gray mug, and a sugar bowl. Similar to the sticky note he found on the bathroom mirror, post-it notes were attached to these items, identifying them for his use.

The boy settled awkwardly on one of the stools surrounding the massive stone block, the silk of his pajamas sliding his body clumsily down the seat. He then poured a steaming cup of coffee, brought the beverage to his lips, and took a sip, which he almost immediately spat out, surprised by its extreme bitterness. Zain grimaced as he placed the cup back on the island, shocked by the unpleasant experience. Did the people in this world actually enjoy this dreadful drink, or was it another one of Hadrian's ideas of a joke?

He stood up from the uncomfortable stool and picked up a sugar cube, now eyeing it with suspicion after this disastrous first tasting. Finally, he decided to put it in his mouth. The sugar began to pleasantly melt on his tongue, delighting his palate. "Finally, some sweetness," he thought as he chewed on the piece then swallowed it , washing away the bitterness.

Zain hesitated for a few seconds before taking the sugar bowl with him, seemingly enchanted by the soothing effects of its contents on his body, before going searching for a suitable outfit for the day among the pile of clothes he had requisitioned from Hadrian's wardrobe the night before.

He left the kitchen and headed for the stairs to return to the guest room, taking a fresh look around as he went. The striking contrast with the previous night made the daylight-flooded atmosphere now seem almost unreal. Every detail, from the well-lit walls to the delicate contours of the beautiful rosewood front door, appeared to come to life before his astonished eyes.

Interrupting his contemplation, the sound of the doorbell suddenly rang through the air, piercing the silence. Zain jumped, his heart leaping in his chest like a wild animal seeking to escape its cage. The doorbell echoed throughout the manor, amplifying the uncertainty and apprehension that filled the young man's soul.

Frozen in place, Zain began weighing his options. Should he answer this mysterious call or retreat into the shadows to avoid this intrusion? Hadrian hadn't left any post-it notes on the best way to handle this situation, Zain lamented, now deeply confused.

To regain some semblance of calm, Zain delicately placed yet another sugar cube in his mouth. The soothing effect of the small white treat was quickly felt, gradually dissipating his anxieties. However, he remained uncertain about the course of action. With hesitant steps, he finally made his way to the front door, but the uncertainty persisted. The doorbell rang once more, demonstrating the determination of the person on the other side of the door. A bigger doubt took hold of Zain. Perhaps it was an emergency... Taking a deep breath, he finally made up his mind and opened the door, coming face to face with Elliott.

"Hello" Said the lieutenant Samuels, surprised to see Zain open the door.

"Hello," Zain responded, his expression one of surprise, still not knowing who this man was or what his intentions might be.

"I'm Fleur's fiancé, Elliott Samuels" he introduced himself.

Nice pick, Fleur, Zain silently acknowledged, admiring Elliott's undeniably attractive physique.

"I'm Zain," he introduced himself in turn.

Elliott observed him for a moment in a slightly awkward silence. Who was this boy? Had he come to the wrong manor? They were in Redwaters, not Beverly Hills where the mansions were competing in numbers; so there was little chance of that... Suddenly, Elliott noticed Hadrian's initials embroidered on the long silk pajama shirt Zain was wearing, which led him to hastily deduce : "You must be Hadrian's ex-boyfriend!"

"Ex-boyfriend?" Zain repeated, astonished. Did that word really mean what he thought it did?

"I mean boyfriend, since you apparently spent the night here and are wearing his pajamas this morning," Elliott noted, briefly interrupted by a moment of embarrassment before continuing, "Does this mean you two have gotten back together?" He couldn't help but add, mixing embarrassment and almost juvenile excitement at the prospect of a possible reconciliation between Hadrian and his ex, which would allow him to go back to his usual routine with Fleur.

"I'm not sure what's going on... I just got here last night..." Zain replied, struggling to process the informations resulting from this disturbing exchange.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be intrusive..." Elliott quickly apologized, realizing that he was already bombarding the young man with personal questions that early in day . Professional deformation...

As he observed Zain more, Elliott couldn't help but add : "It's weird, you don't look much older than my little sister..." He said surprised by the boy's youthful appearance and, by extension, at the age gap between him and Hadrian. Thinking back, Fleur had indeed told him that Hadrian's ex was younger when Elliott had asked her if Ouray and the Englishman were a couple. But younger than Ouray, he then thought, not trophy boyfriend young…

"I'm nineteen" Zain retorted almost mechanically, feeling quite annoyed. No one was going to pass judgement on who he could supposedly date or not, not here or anywhere else. He wasn't a child anymore.

"As long as it's legal, it's none of my business" Elliott quickly regained his composure, though his somewhat judgmental look betrayed him. The lieutenant added finally, having strayed from the topic that had originally brought him there : "Is Fleur still here?"

Zain easily understood that Elliott was unaware of his fiancée's activities and that he needed to keep his responses as vague as possible to avoid further complicating the already intricate situation.

"No, she's gone... with Hadrian... to get something to eat! They'll be back later," Zain stammered as a quick excuse, feeling extremely uncomfortable. But where was Fleur if her fiancé was looking for her?

"Could you tell her I stopped by and tried to reach her?" Elliott asked.

"Of course" Zain replied curtly, now impatient to end the conversation and assess the situation.

"Welcome to town, Zain. I hope things work out between you and Hadrian," Elliott said as a goodbye.

"Me too..." Zain mumbled, barely hearing him, already absorbed in his thoughts.

Elliott waved and headed back to his car, while Zain closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a long sigh, confused.

Hadrian had an ex-boyfriend? Zain's emotions were all over the place, and he couldn't seem to control them. He popped another sugar cube into his mouth, realizing that he was clearly becoming addicted to this devilish sweetness. He wasn't sure if discovering Hadrian's orientation overwhelmed him, or if he actually got jealous at the mere mention of the immortal's ex. Zain felt ridiculous... Did this mean he found Hadrian attractive? "No, enough with the nonsense, Zain" he stopped himself : "Would Hadrian really date guys?" Zain couldn't help but smile at the thought, but immediately snapped out of it. Amnesia or not, this wave of disturbing emotions felt way too premature. "Stop thinking about his gray eyes," he tried to convince himself, "Stop thinking about it!"

There were more urgent matters at hand.

What concerned him the most were Fleur's whereabouts, missing since the argument the previous night. Finding the manor deserted upon waking up, Zain had deduced that Hadrian and Ouray must have gone in search of the witch early in the morning, had probably already found her, and that it wouldn't take long before they’d all return... A bad feeling began to creep over him. "Had they run into trouble? Had they put themselves in danger?" "Stop worrying so much, especially since there's nothing more you can do other than wait for their return," he reasoned with himself.

"They're all fine."

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Just the day before, Tucker had watched Hadrian jump into the air, ready to confront a gigantic creature. But now, Hadrian seemed far from his heroic exploits. He was clearly defenseless, and for Tucker, that was a source of satisfaction.

Hadrian began to regain his senses. The interior of the cabin was dark and damp, making it difficult to perceive his surroundings as he laboriously tried to lift his head. The immortal was at the end of his strength, having spent nearly half an hour inside the area devoid of magic, slowly draining the curse that kept him alive. His body was on the verge of giving in, forever.

Finally, Hadrian could discern Tucker's silhouette, standing in front of him, with his back to the door, clutching a hunting knife in his hands. A malevolent smile spread across his face.

"Sheriff Tucker... What does all this mean?" Hadrian asked weakly.

"Hadrian Archer, we finally have the opportunity to talk, without pretenses..." Tucker replied in a tone devoid of any humanity.

"Is it you who is responsible for all this? For these senseless massacres of innocents?" Hadrian inquired, seeking to understand.

"Innocents? Those abominable creatures that hide among us and attack our children!" Tucker retorted, his anger coming through in his words.

"Attack? Attack?! These creatures you speak of are peaceful, most of them entirely harmless! YOU are the real monster in this story!" Hadrian replied, rejecting Tucker's accusations.

"If I'm the monster in this story, what does that make you, the hero?" Tucker gave a mocking smile before approaching Hadrian, delivering a powerful punch that split his lip, causing a burst of blood. Hadrian held his gaze defiantly, his composure not wavering as Tucker continued his discourse.

"I know who you really are, Hadrian. I've done my research on you. The records with your name date back as far as the time of the town's creation, even before that..."

"I know, I was involved in the creation of this town" Hadrian replied calmly.

Tucker continued, "You've done more than that; we have more in common than you seem willing to admit... You're the Englishman behind the bloody battle of Redwaters. You're the reason we exist today, why the city bears its name."

Hadrian lowered his head, consumed by guilt. He couldn't deny the facts presented by Tucker.

"I was young, stupid, jealous! I made a mistake for which I've been paying for every day for hundreds of years, a mistake I can never repent for! But you systematically go after defenseless creatures in the name of a ludicrous ideology!" Hadrian tried to justify himself, referring to the parallel Tucker drew between them. Tucker's words brought him back to his conversation with Ouray the night before. There was a significant difference between the two men: Hadrian was aware of the wrong he had done, while Tucker refused to acknowledge his responsibility and seemed determined to continue perpetrating it.

"There's nothing absurd about wanting to protect our own, and if you hadn't been turned into one of them, you'd be fighting alongside us today, I'm sure!" Tucker shouted insistently.

"I have nothing in common with you and your gang of degenerate and barbaric fanatics. I know what I've done, and I live with that burden on my conscience every day." protested Hadrian against his accusation

Suddenly, Hadrian noticed the photos of faces displayed on the cabin's walls around him. Hundreds of pictures of men, women, and children, all marked with a red marker cross. These snapshots represented their victims, all supernatural creatures slaughtered by this group. They proudly displayed their murders. Hadrian was overcome with disgust as he recognized some faces while also deploring the youth of other victims on different portraits. His disgust grew even more when he saw the familiar photo of Carolina Willard, igniting a blaze of rage within him.

"Carolina" he muttered.

"She was our greatest catch, until you today! Most of the vermin in Redwaters lived their miserable existence in solitude, but she was different. She helped other creatures, bringing them together, strengthening their community, even integrating them into our respectable society!"

Hadrian was beside himself. It was precisely all these human qualities that had made Carolina an exceptional being that had tragically led to her demise. What was worse, it was because she had helped other creatures in need, as Hadrian should have done himself, that she had become a target for these despicable individuals. But how had this bunch of idiots managed to take on a witch of her caliber?

"How?" Hadrian asked in a dark tone, fixing his gaze on Tucker, who displayed a sadistic smile in the face of his suffering.

"I guess that since you're dying anyway, I could tell you… Carolina might have thought of herself as different, but she shared a common weakness with all women. She wanted to believe in love. Stupid fool."

Fleur slowly regained her senses, feeling the cold touch of the concrete floor beneath her body. She founf herself in what appeared to be some kind of industrial loft. She cautiously got up, scanning her surroundings. The room was spacious, with walls covered in vibrant esoteric symbols. In the center of the room, a spiral staircase seemed to lead to a second floor.

"What happened to me?" Fleur wondered, on guard and sensing an unpleasant earthy taste in her mouth.

She vaguely remembered her conversation with the young bookstore owner. The woman had claimed to be able to help her learn more about the Abundance witches and her mother's past before she plunged into total darkness. It was evident that that girl was responsible for this trap, and Fleur needed to escape quickly or find a way to contact her friends.

She took a few cautious steps in search of an exit, but was suddenly violently pushed back by an invisible force, falling to the ground from the impact of an electric shock. Looking around her at the ground level, Fleur noticed that she was surrounded by black crystals, forming a magical circle on the concrete, keeping her captive at its center.

"Fuck" Fleur muttered as she got up, quickly searching for a solution to get out of this predicament.

The sound of heels echoing on the metal stairs announced someone's imminent arrival.

"Think fast" Fleur thought, suddenly panicking.

"Destruam circulus," chanted the witch, her arms outstretched towards the crystals that imprisoned her, hoping to break the magical barrier, but in vain.

A woman in her fifties, with brown hair cascading over her shoulders, dressed in a long black leather coat matching her thigh-high boots, appeared at the top of the stairs. She confidently approached Fleur, her steely gaze expressing unwavering determination, and spoke in a hoarse voice:

"Don't tire yourself out. Your magic doesn't work within this circle."

"Yet another magicless place? It seems to be the new trend," Fleur retorted, annoyed.

"It's just a circle of Peruvian crystals, effective enough but incomparable to the scale of the spell you seem to be referring to. I deduce that you've finally discovered the magic-free perimeter in the forest. I had tried to dissuade your mother from performing the spell back then."

"You knew my mother?" Fleur immediately became excited, unable to hide her interest.

"Yes, we were Abundance sisters. My name is Marsha, and I apologize for the forceful intervention of Rose; my daughter tends to panic under pressure," she explained in a calm, almost reassuring tone.

"So, that was your daughter? Personally, when I panic, my first instinct is not to magically incapacitate the first unarmed person I come across..." Fleur exclaimed, exasperated by this bizarre situation.

"It had been a long time since anyone showed up with knowledge of our existence," Marsha justified.

"Where are we exactly?" Fleur asked, scanning her surroundings again for clues about their location.

"Right behind the bookstore. This is where we used to gather back in the day, all the Abundance sisters," Marsha replied.

Fleur couldn't help but silently congratulate herself on her tracking spell working, even though she had doubted her abilities when she first arrived at the bookstore. Of course, now that she was being held hostage by this woman, she might have been better off if the spell had failed, in hindsight.

"Alright, now that you know who I am and that I pose no threat to you, can you release me?" Fleur cautiously suggested.

"Not so fast. You came seeking information about your mother, about what happened to her. I'm willing to tell you what I know, but on one condition" stated the charismatic speaker, displaying a suspicious demeanor.

"What do you want from me?" Fleur asked, on her guards, aware of the traps that might be hidden behind such an offer.

"Today, the number of sisters is so reduced that it's nearly impossible for me to perform the spells I need..." the stranger began.

"You want me to join your sisterhood? You have a odd way of asking!" Fleur replied with a hint of amusement, finding this aggressive recruitment approach unconvincing.

"Join us? And have your friends Hadrian and Ouray on our trail, or even worse, your grandmother? Poking their noses into my business... certainly not! We're not looking for your physical presence. I need what's essential for the successful execution of any ritual of significance, the very thing that led you to us today," the stranger explained, maintaining an air of mystery.

"You want my blood?" Fleur concluded, incredulous at this deduction.

Marsha snapped her fingers while incanting : "Sella" conjuring a chair on which she sat comfortably in front of Fleur, still trapped within the circle of black crystals. The brown-haired witch crossed her legs, getting comfortable, while a mischievous smile appeared on her lips before she asked : "So, Fleur Willard, what do you say?"

Fleur knew very well that she had no guarantee that this woman would use her blood wisely if she agreed to give itto her, but she was so close to getting the answers she had been waiting for. She would find a way to circumvent this dubious agreement in due time, but for now, she needed to hear what Marsha could reveal.

"Very well. But first, tell me, why would my mother create this magic-free zone in the woods so close to our old home?" Fleur asked, eager to uncover the truth.

Marsha displayed a victorious smile before answering, "If that's truly what you want... What do you know about your parents' love story?"

Fleur felt a lump forming in her throat, a slight apprehension gripping her.

Fleur looked at her, taken aback. "That's a strange question..." She felt vulnerable, as if Marsha was trying to dig into her intimacy. But it was too late to turn back.

"I know what i remember from my childhood, and some stories they told me... My father was a foreigner who came from France to Redwaters as part of an exchange program. My mother was very young, and they fell in love. It was a passionate love with its ups and downs, more downs than ups in my memory..." Fleur lowered her gaze, reminiscing about the difficult moments in her parents' relationship. She was torn between the love and pain that had marked their lives.

"'Fleur' was the first French word my father taught my mother. He had drawn a sunflower with a marker on her hand, which later led to the idea of giving me that uncommon name. In hindsight, it could have been way worse if they had named me 'Sunflower' instead..." Fleur gave a shy smile as she shared these intimate details, clearly affected by what would come next. A hint of sadness crossed her eyes, recalling the painful memories she had buried inside.

"My father never expressed the desire to be a part of my life after my mother's passing. Given that we had never been close before due to their frequent separations and his trips back and forth to France, I didn't try to hold onto him either. It wasn't my place; I was just a child..." Fleur's words were tinged with bitterness and disappointment. She still felt the sting of her father's abandonment, a wound that had left an indelible mark on her heart.

"What does my parents' story have to do with all of this?" Fleur asked, regaining her composure and becoming somewhat suspicious again.

Marsha stared at her, hesitant, before deciding to reveal :

"The reason I'm asking you this, is because your father is the reason your mother created this magic-free zone."

Fleur felt her stomach knotting.

"What do you mean?" she asked in a trembling voice, her curiosity mixed with concern.

"When your father discovered that your mother was a witch, he freaked out. He questioned their entire relationship, even going so far as to believe that his feelings for her were artificial, the result of a spell..."

Fleur felt a pang in her heart as she imagined the distress her mother must have felt in the face of her father's doubts.

"Your mother used to sneak out to the woods adjacent to your old house to meet him for secret rendez-vous since the beginning of their romance. So, she decided to remove the magic from that area they cherished, to prove to him each time they would meet there that magic played no part in their relationship. It became their sanctuary, away from everyone, a place where not even Darcey could locate them."

Fleur felt a wave of sadness and understanding washing over her. She could almost imagine her mother, desperately trying to preserve their love.

"Oh my God" she murmured, absorbing Marsha's revelations. Her thoughts filled with compassion for her mother and a certain apprehension about her own future as well.

"But you can understand her better than anyone, can't you? You find yourself in a similar predicament today, engaged to a man who knows nothing about your condition. What makes you think he would react any differently from your father? Carolina, despite her many attempts, couldn't bridge the gap that discovering she was a witch created between your parents, and that zone that was once the stage of their romance ultimately became her grave."

Marsha's words struck a chord with Fleur, reminding her of her own fears and the fragility of her happiness. She cast a dark look at Marsha. The woman had touched upon an extremely sensitive issue. She feared more than anything that Elliott would reject her upon discovering her true nature as a witch, and this revelation only exacerbated her anxiety about losing the man she loved. It was clear that her mother had made considerable efforts to shield her relationship from the consequences of a similar revelation, but it had been in vain, and it had cost her life. Marsha's harsh words, lacking compassion on this delicate subject, seemed to indicate some resentment towards her mother. Fleur felt a compelling need to uncover the cause of this antagonism in a woman who yet presented herself as one of Carolina's friends.

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Resting on the window seat in the guest room, Zaîn casually flipped through the pages of a fashion magazine he had found. It was a collection of images featuring increasingly extravagant outfits. A discovery that fascinated him, though he couldn't concentrate.

Dressed in a slightly oversized gray tracksuit, Zaîn wondered how this same outfit could fit the much larger frame of Hadrian, from whom he had borrowed it the day before.

But where was Hadrian?

Worry washed over him. Neither Ouray, nor Fleur, nor the immortal had shown any sign of life, and his sense of foreboding grew. They were in danger. However, Zaîn felt utterly powerless about it. He knew nothing about this world and had no means to help them.

He placed the magazine on the bench and gazed out of the window at the garden. Zaîn closed his eyes, attempting to clear his mind. Perhaps he unconsciously possessed the power to locate Hadrian and the others with the abilities he had discovered the day before but still knew little about. He tried concentrating, however, despite his efforts, he couldn't locate them. He reopened his eyes, frustrated, unsure of where to start.

Memories of the previous night came flooding back. He remembered how he had miraculously lifted Hadrian off the ground when the giant spider had captured him, harnessing his fear. Then, it was his concentration that had allowed him to propel himself out of the car and stop the vehicle as it sped toward him. Emotion and concentration, that was finally a starting point.

Zaîn closed his eyes again, focusing his efforts directly on Hadrian this time. Long seconds passed, but still nothing. He opened his black eyes, even more discouraged than before. What use were his magical powers if he couldn't use them when it mattered most?

His gaze wandered again through the window, lost in thought, searching for another course of action, feeling more limited than ever.

Suddenly, he saw a shape emerging from the trees surrounding the manor. It was the translucent specter of a white wolf, bathed in a purple glow similar to the one that had left his body upon his arrival in Redwaters. The phantom animal moved towards his window, fixing him with a benevolent gaze, as if trying to convey a message.

Zaîn felt an inexplicable connection with the creature and immediately understood that its presence could help him find the others. As the wolf let out a long howl toward the window, clearly calling him to join, Zaîn felt a sudden urgency. He quickly put on a large black blazer over his gray tracksuit and slipped into a pair of Gucci Pricetown burgundy mules, the only shoes in his size he had found in Hadrian's closet. He then rushed down the stairs, descending them at breakneck speed to reach the supernatural animal that had appeared in the garden.

Zaîn finally found the wolf, standing still at the back of the property, waiting for him. The boy stood in front of the animal and stared at it for a moment. The wolf exuded an aura of goodness mixed with an inexplicable and communicative sadness, which overwhelmed Zaîn. Something horrible had happened to this harmless creature, and it made his stomach churn.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you," he whispered, his words filled with empathy.The wolf looked into his eyes before turning around and heading toward the gate at the back of the manor. Zaîn hurriedly followed, calling out : "Wait for me!"

The phantom creature continued on, leaping through the gate effortlessly, its immaterial body passing through the rusted metal.

Zaîn watched the scene in disbelief, struggling to open the weathered gate, which finally gave way after several attempts. He joined the wolf outside the manor, on the stretch of road that ran alongside Hadrian's property, surrounded by the forest.

The purple wolf casted one last glance at Zaîn before emitting a mystical howl toward the woods, beckoning the young prince to follow. Without hesitation, Zaîn sighed determinedly and ran after the animal, reassessing the uncanny situation he was putting himself in. He was about to follow a phantom wolf through the woods in an unfamiliar world, hoping to come to the aid of people he had just met. His mind was filled with uncertainty and apprehension, but also with a natural determination. He may have forgotten who he was, but he could instinctively feel what he was not: the type to back down in the face of danger.