The Dark Witch Chronicles Book One: The Curse of The Cymmerien Dragon

Iris sat on the branch of the sprawling, aged banyan tree, her gown playing softly along her ankles as her gaze fixed on something far in the distance. She listened to the beautiful melody of a flute coming from somewhere inside the woods, Iris didn’t know where, but her guess was those were the nimble fingers of Sienna working their charm. Erasmus had once told her that Sienna was flawless at playing the flute. The calming sounds that the flute created made her want to close her eyes and concentrate on nothing else but that. It was beautiful, and after all the mind numbing incidents that had taken place over the past two days, the music was gently healing her soul.

Nicholas didn’t cry in pain anymore as it had begun to subside. Erasmus was bustling around the room taking care of him, helping him around and getting him back to how he was. So Iris was mostly left on her own. Although Amara was being co-operative and helping her meditate, she was left by herself most of the times with nothing much to do.

The wind was blowing gently around her, making her shoulder length hair move in the blustery weather. As she rested her head on the tree, closing her eyes, her mind began to wander, settling in the strangest of places. She saw a mass of water break out from under huge rocks, the figure of a brawny man sliding down with the flood. Flames of Fire danced upon a castle that was being burnt down. Then she saw a storm approaching and taking a few humans away in its cruel grasp. Iris cringed to herself and distracted her thoughts, focussing on the sound of the flute. But her mind continued to remain a muddle of things that she could not decipher. As she was about to open her eyes and leave, a vision rushed into her mind.

***

“LET ME GO!” she screeched, pain immediately travelling up to her head. The burning sensation ran up through her feet to her skull, stinging every bit of her soul inside. She struggled within the chains tied around her, her leg savagely glued to the floor. Tears streamed down her eyes, her heartbeat going wild as he placed a nail over her ankle, holding the hammer right above it. She screamed louder and louder, the sound rang through the walls making them shudder. But he didn’t stop even though her screams were ear splitting. He didn’t stop himself from hammering the nail into her ankle.

“I don’t know! I don’t know anything – LET ME GO! LEAVE ME!” She bellowed yet again, tears falling furiously down her eyes as she sobbed and pleaded in pain.

“Where is the boy?” Zeidan asked with a murderous look. His voice was calm as still water. Zeidan was one of Leo’s servants, who had also been a part of torturing her.

“I don’t know. I d-do-don’t kn-know,” she whimpered.

Amara struggled harder to get rid of the chains. He started hitting the hammer on the nail, piercing the skin below her ankle. As he hit it harder, she screamed again, the cry creating trembles in the chamber.

“He will save you,” Thomas had said to her hours ago, before he had escaped. He possessed the power of invisibility and could set himself free. In all the time that he had been in the dungeons, he had gathered up his powers. They were not too strong, but enough to help him escape. Amara had wanted to stop him, or go with him but he refused. Thomas had told her that there was someone that would save her, and that going with him would only bring her more sufferings.

“My journey is difficult, Amara. I have to go alone,” he had said. In the end, she had let him go, hoping that at least the fifteen-year-old boy would find a way out for himself. And maybe someone would come and save her. Someone would help her.

Her screams never went silent as the tears slipped down her eyes effortlessly. She was dying. Her will to survive and to save herself was all fading away. She had no strength, no way of rescuing herself. The only thing that she wanted now, was Death. She wanted to embrace Death. The pain shooting up from her ankle was unbearable, but less agonizing than what Leo had done to her for three long weeks. He had gotten no information out of her, yet he kept tormenting her, damaging the very soul inside her that longed to set itself free. She needed Death. That was all she was capable of hoping for.

As Zeidan began to hammer the nail deeper into her ankle, a strong current of air slammed the window of the chamber open, and the shadow of the storm that was gradually building on the outside entered in. Rain splattered across the room and drenched the floors. The shadow wildly began to approach where Amara and Zeidan were. Zeidan’s hands stopped, and Amara’s eyes – blinded by her tears – searched for clear vision. She blinked as the shadowed figure coolly made its way inside and Zeidan was suddenly thrown onto a wall, his body crashing on it and collapsing on the floor. The blurred figure of a man standing in front of Zeidan appeared. Amara quickly blinked the tears away.

Her vision got clearer and a hooded figure dressed in dull red robes stood tall with his back to Amara. He grabbed Zeidan by his collar and pulled him up to standing. Taking a step back, the man dragged him forward, holding him by the throat in a tight grip. They were talking about something, but Amara heard nothing due to the sound of the storm. The man slammed Zeidan’s head into the wall, blood spluttering out of his head as he fell to the floor. Amara stared at the scene in front of her with her eyes wide. Not a single thought crossed her mind as the walls shook with the force Zeidan was hit by. The man retreated, still not facing Amara as he raised his arms in the air and Zeidan ascended along rising up to the ceiling, his body limp and unresponsive.

The storm around refused to calm down and continued blinding her vision. She saw Zeidan being lifted higher and then suspended in midair, his face covered in blood and it beheld a horrid sight. Amara wanted to shut her eyes but before she could, a dagger flew out of the man’s robes and with great force, ascended towards Zeidan’s body. Before her mind could gauge what was happening, the dagger had slammed into his throat, travelling straight through and fixing him to the wall behind, just below the ceiling. Amara stared in horror, her eyes wide and jaw dropped open. The man turned around, his face still covered in a hood and started walking towards Amara. She was glued to her spot, her mind too disturbed to react in any way.

The man crouched down before her, tracing his hand towards her ankle, the nail halfway in. Amara felt nothing as her senses were numb and he gently pulled the nail out without even touching it. Blood dripped out of the wound and spilled onto the floor. The raging storm continued to drench the chamber. Amara was covered in blood and rain. The man raised his head and glanced at the chains that were around Amara’s wrists. A moment later, she was free of those. Yet her mind refused to react, even when he offered her a hand, and without a question, she placed her bleeding fingers onto his extended palm. The man stood up, helping her to her feet and Amara trembled, and fell back onto the floor. Before she could try to stand up again, her vision blurred and she collapsed on the floor.

Her strength had vanished somehow and she could only feel that the man had now picked her up and was approaching the door. She heard voices and through clouded eyes she saw the doors of the prison being opened, letting many other prisoners out. Clashes of weapons were heard for a long time as she felt the movement of the man who was holding her. A few moments later when she was able to open her eyes, she felt herself being dropped to the floor, her head hitting a hard surface. The man was now pulling a sword out and slashing it across someone’s neck before dragging Amara away with him.

Once again, her eyes heavy from the fall, her head in a near state of concussion, she became semi-conscious and the sounds faded away. The only thing she felt now was the realization that she was free. She was out of the dungeons. As the cold wind and rainwater fell upon her half-conscious being, she silently faded into nothingness.

***

When Iris opened her eyes, she was lying on the ground. Amara stood before her, offering a hand. Iris blinked, grabbing Amara’s wrist and stood up. She stared at the wrist she was holding, which, moments ago in her head, was bound in chains. Iris shuddered inside, thinking of how Amara might have felt with the chains and the nail ruthlessly being hammered into her leg. How can one person endure such an amount of pain? She asked herself again.

“Are you alright?” Amara asked, raising her eyebrows.

Iris’s head shot up to look at her. She wanted to ask if Amara was okay, but it had been over a hundred years that this had happened. Iris was new to it, Amara was not.

“I’m fine,” Iris replied, looking down, unable to meet Amara’s gaze.

“I didn’t want to let you in today. I was going to wait but your meditation skills were very good. Usually new witches take at least a year to be satisfactory but you did it in six months. Even then, I was stopping myself from giving you permission, without you asking for it. But somehow I felt it was time for you to know the whole story,” Amara said, turning to walk towards the woods. Focussed, Iris blindly followed behind.

“Who was it that saved you?” Iris attempted as they walked deeper into the woods.

“It was the Lord. After he saved me, he took me to the mountains of Carvelli. That’s where all the new witches were trained before being brought to the castle. Of course, now it has changed, but training does take place in those mountains in the beginning. The castle had not been built properly enough then. The Lord made Soter heal all my injuries, but physical harm wasn’t the only barrier. I was emotionally broken. I had no will to try to become the witch that the Lord wanted me to. When my injuries were gone, Nicholas trained me in combat. I learned archery, sword fighting and other war strategies. It took years for me to be perfect in the physical training.

“Meanwhile I read books on witchcraft and everything that was essential to be a good witch. When they were sure my physical strength was sufficient, the Lord began with the spiritual one. To purify my soul and heal it from the damage that had been done. At that time, after ten years of physical training, meditation began. I don’t remember how much time I took in that but soon enough I was taught the nature of all the elements and how witches are supposed to tame them. Three years later, I became what they made me. I turned into the witch that they needed, the one that they had created out of the broken shards that I was. I owe my existence to the Lord, I’m indebted to him for saving me and making me what I am today,” said Amara.

They were now seated on the ground, the lake below their feet. Iris sat there listening to Amara silently, her eyes focussed on the water below. Now, she realized why the Lord was so important to Amara and why she had this amount of respect for him. He surely deserved it. And as Amara relayed the story to her, Iris could see the narration happening right in front of her in the calm water. She saw Amara being healed, her physical training, her meditation, the familiar spots of the mountains of Carvelli and the vulnerable, weak girl turning into a strong and beautiful witch, who had the stoic expression across her face that was always there since Iris had first seen her. She didn’t know what to say. Whether to express the immense respect she felt for this great witch, or tell her that she was over-whelmed. She didn’t quite put her emotions to use. Maybe her expressiveness would not go down well with the blank witch next to her, who had lost all kinds of emotions making her void of every feeling.

Then again, had Iris gone through all of that, she would never have had the will to get trained in being a witch. She would have wanted to kill herself somehow even after being saved. Going through all that pain and then coming out strong, Iris could never imagine herself doing that. Amara was different, she was exceptional, extremely strong willed and brilliant in every way. Iris could only wish to be like her, but never attain that goal. Because Amara wasn’t someone anybody could be like. It required strength more than one could ever imagine. Amara was in herself, the most astonishing being Iris had ever come across.

Yet, all of that didn’t answer the question of the task that Amara wanted Iris to help her with. She was still in the dark, and she didn’t know when and how Amara was going to tell her what it was. But she decided not to ask her since she had always said that she would reveal it to her when the time was right. Iris would wait for the right time and be patient. Meanwhile, she could keep her concentration on other things that were important.

“But how were you so strong? Didn’t it haunt you every now and then?” She asked, unable to contain her questions.

“For a while it did, but then I became immune to it. I used to have a lot of nightmares. I even tried to drown myself once, and tried setting myself on Fire because the memories of the pain stabbed me inside every moment. But the Lord didn’t let me fail and after a while I became used to it. The pain began to subside and I started forgetting about it. It’s the power of the mind, you learn to face it,” she replied. Iris’s heart shattered thinking of everything that Amara had been through and come out stronger than ever.

“How difficult was it? The spiritual training, I mean. Did it take much time?”

“Well, it wasn’t easy. I had to keep my mind focussed on one thing, which was difficult given my condition at that time. Then as I started to think about how important all of it was over the past, I began to learn to control the emotions getting in my way. That helped me to become stronger and I learned to sustain the pain. After I learnt to meditate properly, I could focus on things easily and it all started to become what I wanted to achieve. I made it the only goal I wished to reach.” She paused for a few moments, her palms joining at the tips as she surveyed Iris and then said, “You know, Iris, the pace at which you are adapting to this world and learning everything, it amazes me. I have not seen a witch so determined and focussed to achieve a goal. I’m sure you might make a great witch someday. Your determination reminds me of someone.”

“Who would that be?” Iris asked, perplexed.

Amara tilted her head to look at Iris and a tiny smile grazed her lips, before she said, “Me.”

Iris looked at her with wide eyes silently, blinking once to digest the fact that Amara was actually smiling. It made her want to squeal in joy thinking that she was the one that brought that smile onto her face. Although the smile was so little and almost non-existent, Iris was delighted at the mere notion of it. In all the time that she had known her, Amara had never once genuinely smiled, not even a hint of it. For a witch who was devoid of all feelings, who could not express any emotion apart from anger and coldness, a smile as tiny as this was something extremely joyful for Iris. But, once again, her expression went back to how it was before, the smile vanishing. That didn’t change the fact that Iris had made Amara smile. It would stay with her for the rest of her life as a happy memory.

“Was everyone set free that night? All the prisoners,” Iris asked curiously, wondering what exactly had happened since Amara was unconscious and didn’t know much.

“The Lord told me some of them died fighting, but most managed to escape,” she replied.

“And that boy Thomas, ho-how did he escape?”

“He had the power of invisibility. During the eight months that he was in the dungeons, he had learnt to invoke all his powers. Being the son of a powerful sorcerer, he possessed a few powers since birth but he didn’t have proper control over them due to lack of training. He also had the power of premonition, because of which he told me that someone was going to save me. His powers were not that good, and the invisibility could last only for a few minutes. He didn’t need much time to escape out of the prison but once he was out, the invisibility would stop working. Then he would have to save himself some other way. He managed to escape in time while the powers were working. It was a day before I was set free,” said Amara, her mind going back to how vulnerable she was when he left. Thomas was her only hope but he had promised her that she would be rescued. She had believed him.

“But what happened to him?”

“I don’t know. I tried to find out but they said he was captured by witch-hunters and was probably dead. But some said he went into hiding and no one was able to find him.” Amara shrugged.

Iris wanted to know more about the boy. He possessed similar powers to hers and she wanted to know if he was still out there. Maybe if he were alive and if he belonged to the same coven, he could have helped her. His powers, in a way matched hers and maybe he could have understood. But, thinking about that is not going to be of any use, she thought. Pushing the thoughts out of her mind, she concentrated on the other question that she wanted to ask.

“How difficult is it to handle the element of Fire? Erasmus told me you’re very skilled at it,” Iris asked, now sticking to the numerous questions that she had. She didn’t want the conversation to end. If this was the way Amara was going to open up to her then be it. There were so many things that she could find out. And Iris was in no mood to pass up on that chance.

“Very difficult indeed!” Amara answered with a glint in her eyes. “The element of Fire is extremely tricky to tackle. All the elements are, but Fire holds a different place, altogether. Given the fact that it is the most dangerous one of them all and if you lose focus for just a second, it can become highly destructive. I was given a choice to pick the two elements that I wished to handle. They suggested Water and Air but I was interested in Fire. It was challenging and I wanted to tame it. The reason Fire is difficult to handle is because the other elements: Earth and Wind are at your beck and call when you want. To conjure up Water, it does not take as much patience. But if it is Fire, one has to be cautious enough and focussed to conjure it with proper strength of mind. Because even while you are summoning it, you cannot lose focus.

“If you do, it can get extremely destructive. It is dangerous. It took a lot of time for me to learn the nature of that element. Focus is the key and that is where your meditation comes in. The concentration that you practiced can be used here to tackle Fire. In the beginning, it was hard to deal with and I almost burned down a forest once, but after a lot of practice, I could handle it and keep control over it. The secret is that the element of Fire is like the human mind, complex and wildly unstable. You know the phoenix bird is born out of Fire, and that is why Phoenix Blood is said to be as confusing as Fire itself. It is dangerous and if you cannot contain it, it can make you go insane. The way Phoenix Blood is in connection to the mind, Fire is also directly related the same way. Yet if you learn control; it serves you the way you wish.”

Iris let out a sigh as though she was holding her breath awhile, as Amara had been speaking to her. The amount of complexity the world of Conjurers had would make her think that she was actually going mad. But the world was like that, if you had control over yourself you could survive. If not, destruction would occur. It was how the universe maintained its balance. However, witchcraft had its own different perquisites to offer. In addition to being interesting and challenging, it was also the most intriguing world one would come across. Iris was beginning to like it despite all the disadvantages.

They sat in silence for what seemed like hours before another question started nagging Iris’s mind. She was confused whether to ask it. Maybe it was a bad idea and it would infuriate Amara. If I am supposed to know her story, I should know everything, right? She pondered. Yet, something stopped her from asking that question and she held herself back while Amara playfully moved her feet in the water, gently splashing it around. She was careful not to get them drenched.

“We should go back into the castle. It’s getting late,” Amara spoke suddenly, starting to get up.

The feeling of asking the question refused to leave her and Iris wanted to know the answer. Maybe Amara would tell her and not get angry like she was thinking. There were a lot of things she already knew and knowing the answer to that little question wouldn’t kill her. So gathering up all her courage, Iris stood up to follow Amara as she had begun walking back in the direction of the castle.

“Amara, wait,” she called out, running a little to catch up with her.

Amara turned around, her eyebrows raised in question and waited for Iris to catch up with her.

“Yes?” She questioned, as Iris remained dead silent.

“I have one last question to ask you,” she said slowly, choosing the words wisely in her mind so as not to make it sound like she was being nosy.

“Go on,” Amara urged.

“Um…What happened to Leo?” She finally managed after a long moment of silence.

Amara went silent for a while, she surveyed Iris, and Iris realized that she had asked the wrong question at the wrong time. She wanted to run back into the castle for she was sure that Amara was going to get angry and probably torture her. But what Amara said next made Iris stop dead in her tracks, and her jaw fell open.

“That is exactly what you are going to help me find out.”