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

It was early morning when they reached the castle. The sun was shining brightly above their heads as they entered through the doors. The morning was fresh, and it made Iris feel better after the long journey to the mountains of Carvelli. But Amara and Azrael were a different story. They seemed exhausted and had no idea why it was so. Amara had thought that maybe it was because they had passed out the night before and had to go through a long journey, but she had to admit that she had never felt this tired. It was unusual and she didn’t like it.

Nicholas, on the other hand, was experiencing a strange feeling. His heart had nearly begun to constrict at times. Whenever he breathed a bit heavily or did anything exhaustive, he would feel as though there were pieces of him breaking inside of him. It was strange. Ever since he had returned from the caves after almost summoning the spirit of Lilith, he had started to have a very strange feeling that something wrong was going to happen; and how much ever hard he tried, that feeling would not go. Even though nothing had happened since, there was something that made him paranoid. And somehow it was affecting his physical being; about which he had no idea.

The night before when Nicholas had reached the cave where Amara and Azrael were lying unconscious – after having given them both a few drops of the Fire and Ice potion – they had woken up in a while. Iris had taken extra care to give Amara the Healing Potion and make her normal again. Amara had become extremely weak. Iris had never seen her that way. It saddened Iris. Azrael was experiencing something similar, his eyes felt heavy and his throat kept going dry every now and then. When they revealed the story about meeting a possessed body in the Dark Falls, Nicholas went rigid.

Something told him that he knew about the spirit, yet he could not put a finger on it. He explained the cause of Azrael’s condition after. The reason that his throat kept going dry was because the grip that the spirit had was impeccable. It had sent a wave of poison inside him through the grip on his throat, which is why it kept going dry owing to the mild poison. Although harmless, the poison had a potential to make him weak. The remedy for that was to have the Fire and Ice potion once a day. They had then left the caves after Amara had thoroughly checked her bag of supplies to see if everything was in place. Azrael had given her a warning that he had seen someone when he was half-conscious. Whether it was a dream or reality, he was unsure. Yet for safety purposes, Amara had ensured everything. There was no damage and nothing seemed to be out of place.

Azrael reflected that maybe it was a dream after all. Yet, he could not get the image of the hooded figure that sat next to him, out of his mind. It felt real, but blurred enough to be a dream. After a while he had let go. All four of them had then left to return to the castle on foot. Nicholas tagged his horse along as they strode in the direction of the castle. Amara and Azrael were strangely quiet which worried Iris immensely. Although they were usually not the ones to talk, the atmosphere seemed to have altered with them around.

She hadn’t known Azrael as much, but she knew that there was something wrong that kept Amara at bay. There was a missing link that could not be connected how much ever hard she tried. For a fact, she could figure out that something had happened where had been to; something that had made her aloof from not just Iris, but everything else. It was not normal and Iris wanted to know what it was that changed things all of a sudden. No one uttered a word except for when necessary until they reached the castle. Amara had retreated to go to her chamber and Azrael had done the same, leaving Iris and Nicholas at the door, wondering what was wrong. Nicholas was busy speculating what it was that was bothering him so, but Iris had only one thing in mind.

Iris couldn’t understand what had happened to Amara. Letting out a sigh, she started walking to her chamber to get some rest.

Nicholas left through the castle doors and went up to the tower. He stood there with his hands resting on the railing when his eyes fell on the fairy carved out of soil. Lea’s creation stood in the tower even after a few months had passed. Strangely enough, it kept changing its position. Each time Nicholas or Amara saw it, the fairy had either taken a flying stance, or that of hiding herself. He had made it a point to ask Lea the reason for the movements. He always seemed to forget about it.

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In the castle, Amara sat inside her chamber after taking a cold shower to calm her nerves. She still felt weak. She had never been this weak. When it became unbearable, she rushed to the kitchen to energize herself with something to eat. Impatiently she grabbed all that she thought would get her back to normal and began feeding herself. She sat inside the kitchen on a chair, all the food placed before her on the table. Her eyes seemed to start watering all the sudden. She could not understand what was happening. It had never happened to her before. How much ever she ate, she just did not feel active enough. It was the same, a little better but all the same and Amara didn’t like it at all.

Frustrated, she threw the plate on the floor and held her head in her hands. Whatever was happening to her, it wasn’t good. Amara stood up to go out of the kitchen when she turned around and blindly hit her head on someone’s chest. Azrael stood there with his eyebrows raised, clearing his throat since it felt dry. He grabbed a glass of water and gulped it down while Amara took a step back. He then looked at her. The frustrated expression that she held didn’t go unnoticed. He frowned.

“What’s wrong with you?” He said, grabbing an apple from the table beside him.

“Nothing! I have to go,” she replied, unable to meet his piercing gaze and walked across from him to go out of the kitchen.

“You should get some sleep,” he said softly to her, following closely behind. He didn’t know why he was going behind her but something made him want to. Amara was wondering the same and yet she wanted him to accompany to her. Being alone was exasperating when she was on the verge of setting something on Fire.

“I don’t feel like sleeping,” she said, swiftly treading ahead. She had unknowingly taken the back door that led to the woods behind the castle. Her feet had led her there all by themselves and she didn’t know what she was going to do next. Azrael was still following her, unaware of the reason. He didn’t feel as weak as Amara did. Maybe it was because of the Fire and Ice potion that he was taking, and he felt as though his brain was functioning better than ever. It felt as though he had a strange but good feeling inside him that didn’t make him as serious and grave as he was before. In a way, he felt sort of alive; something that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Amara stood in the woods outside the lake, her head flooded with a million questions as to why she was feeling that way. Her whole body seemed to be on a sabbatical. It felt as though none of her organs were in working condition, more so her mind. It seemed to be playing tricks on her which she didn’t appreciate. She wanted to kill someone. She wanted to get rid of that feeling.

“Amara!” said Azrael for the third time when she hadn’t paid attention even once. He was standing in front of her, clearly annoyed. He didn’t seem to like the fact that she was frustrated. He wanted her to be okay, the reason to which he could not figure out. It was strange but that didn’t stop him. Amara looked at him quietly with her eyebrows raised. She hadn’t heard him until now.

“You need to calm down,” he said.

Amara stared at him silently for a moment, her breathing becoming a bit normal again. She closed her eyes for a long while before looking at him again.

“I do.” She breathed, letting out a sigh.

Azrael gave her a slight smile and a nod before taking her hand and leading her to a deeper part of the woods. Amara blindly followed without questioning him once. When he was sure about where he was, Azrael let go of her hand and asked her to take a seat on the grass below. It was a bit moist and cool, which made Amara’s nerves a little calmer than they were before. She did not feel like slamming her head on a wall. Azrael then sat in front of her.

“Now tell me what’s wrong,” he said to her softly.

Amara was puzzled whether or not she should tell him. After contemplating her choices for a while she gave in. There isn’t much I can do now, she thought before letting out a breath. “It’s strange. My head feels like it’s about to explode and I’m capable of doing absolutely nothing. I feel like a mortal with no powers,” she revealed.

Azrael internally chuckled at the word ‘mortal’. Amara was far from mortal. She was the perfect witch. There was nothing even remotely mortal about her. She had the distinct ability to stand out in a crowd of great Conjurers.

“You’re not even close to being mortal. You know that. Also, the capability that you have is a gazillion times more than that of a mortal. Why don’t you try out something? Use your powers. Try conjuring some water,” he told her.

“I don’t think I can,” she replied pathetically. She felt worthless.

“One day of unconsciousness and you feel as though you can’t do anything. Have you really forgotten who you are, Amara?” He raised an eyebrow disbelievingly.

Amara looked at him for a moment before glancing away, only to stare at the lake. With her eyes focussed on the water, she concentrated her mind and a wave started to rise up. A smile threatened to hit Amara’s lips when suddenly the water fell back in. A disappointed look etched upon her face. That had never happened to her. Her powers seemed to be dying; which was not good.

“Don’t lose hope. Try again,” said Azrael, giving her an encouraging nod. But Amara felt that there was something really wrong. Why did her powers seem to have faded away like that? That was something out of the usual.

“This doesn’t happen,” she said to herself but he heard her.

“There’s a first time for everything. You can’t give up so easily, oh great witch. They know you for your brilliance. You can’t protect the prophecy and the treasures if you sit here doing nothing. This is only because of the long journey we had. It was exhausting, mentally as well. So you just have to try a little harder.”

Amara regarded him silently. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do or say. It was different being in the woods with Azrael. But in a way that felt natural to her. All she was worried about was her powers that seemed to have gone somewhere.

Azrael hoped that his words had made some kind of difference to her. He watched as she looked away from him and towards the water again. She let out a sigh, closing her eyes for a moment before turning back to him. “Do you think meditation would help? I haven’t gotten a chance to meditate in a while,” she told him hopefully.

“Of course it will,” Azrael replied, with an encouraging nod in her direction. Amara bit her lip, she knew that she wanted to meditate. She needed rest. For her, rest had always been meditation. Sleep could not give her the peace that she needed; but meditation could.

“I’ll leave you alone then,” said Azrael, getting up.

Amara looked up at him thankfully and smiled for his help. Maybe if he had not calmed her down, she would have set the woods on Fire again. Her frustration was at its peak when she had left the castle. But after Azrael helped her get her mind alert, she felt lighter. Her head didn’t seem as heavy as it did before and she could peacefully meditate. She didn’t say anything to him, just smiled; and Azrael smiled back, taking steps backwards and then turning around. Moments later, he vanished out of sight. Amara was still staring where his footsteps had been. Something she had failed to notice was that the one person that she had disliked the most had suddenly changed and was helping her. In her frustration, she had let that go unnoticed. Her attention was elsewhere.

She then stood up, making her way closer to the lake. Letting her feet drop into the cool water, she placed both her hands on her knees. Her eyes closed again, the sun shone above her face as she let her mind drift into a meditative state.

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Iris stood in the potions chamber with Leandra as the latter practiced her skills of creating different kinds of potions. As Lea chatted away about what ingredients she was adding into the potions, Iris barely listened. Her mind was crammed with thoughts of why Amara was behaving oddly. It had been only a few hours that they had returned from the mountains of Carvelli; yet her worry had not faded even after Erasmus had assured her that it was just exhaustion that was holding Amara back. He had told her that she would get back to normal soon. But Iris wasn’t listening. Her intuitions said to her that something was wrong. It wasn’t just because Amara was acting strange, the reason she thought that way was because the moment they had returned, Azrael had become something she had never thought he would be. His presence was cheerful; which Iris noticed wasn’t the case before.

He had a similar kind of behaviour as Amara, yet a bit different. The aura that he gave off was of Death. Why had suddenly all the darkness inside him vanished? When she talked to Erasmus about it the hour before, he had told her that those were the side-effects of the Fire and Ice potion. It had the ability to jumble up one’s thoughts. If the brain was stalled or a person was under shock, the potion would restore the workings back to how they were. But if consumed in excess amount for some reasons, it behaved like alcohol did for humans. Although the Fire and Ice potion was far from alcoholic effects, it gave an exhilarating sensation. It made changes in one’s behaviour.

But Iris refused to accept that it was because of the potion he was consuming, owing to the effects of the evil spirit that had nearly killed him. There was something she wasn’t ready to accept. Suddenly all the trust that had developed for him was starting to go away. She had no explanation as to why that was happening. She did not have a reason to do so, but it still worried her. She was holding Azrael responsible for the changes in Amara’s behaviour. The changes that were only going to stay for a while, yet she refused to accept the fact that it was just because of the exhaustive journey that the two of them had been through.

“Hello, dear sister of mine.”

Iris snapped her attention to Azrael’s deep and husky voice as he entered the potions chamber and stood next to a babbling Lea who had not quieted down for the last half hour. She turned to look at him, grinning as she did so.

“Look what I made; its the Filoris potion,” she told him, holding up a vial of the potion.

“And what is it used for?” He asked.

“I was just telling Iris about it. She’ll explain it to you while I look for that pesky book of Unusual Potions that I haven’t found in ages. I’m going to the library,” she said before dashing out of the potions chamber.

Iris was amused at the amount of energy that girl had. She was always this fast and impatient.

Azrael looked at Iris, waiting for her to explain what the potion was about. She turned to him after Lea had gone. “Well?” He probed, raising his eyebrows. He had never really spoken to Iris properly. Whenever he tried, something came in between. Iris didn’t exactly like his presence, now more than ever. His behaviour lately was very confusing for her. It seemed to her that suddenly the air around the castle had changed. Even Nicholas was acting aloof all the sudden which was frustrating Iris.

“Are you going to tell me or should I just make you do it?” He said when she didn’t reply. Iris blinked. What was his question again?

“I’m sorry. I uh. . .I don’t really know what Lea was talking about. I wasn’t listening. She talks a lot,” she told him. A nervous chuckle escaped her lips as she said the last bit, in the end biting her lip. She was half-expecting him to get angry.

“As a matter of fact, she does. Half the time I don’t listen to her at all,” he replied, chuckling along with her. And all the sudden Iris felt comfortable, something which she had never felt around him before. But that didn’t change the fact that she suspected him of having done some sorcery over Amara’s mind to make her act strange.

“Besides, I know what this potion is used for,” he said lifting the vial of the Filoris potion.

He looked at its contents – a subtle yellow with a hint of smoke swirling in its neck – intently for a long moment before placing it back on the table. Iris’s eyes were stuck on the vial as well. It seemed rather common yet unusual. The transparent yellow liquid stood out of all the potions. There were various other yellow coloured potions but Filoris seemed an entirely different one from those.

“It helps in reducing the fear of something. When a terrifying incident happens; for instance, you experience a nightmare that doesn’t leave your mind for days on end, this potion helps in recovery. It restores the adrenaline to a normal level. Quite useless if you ask me. I don’t think reducing fear requires a potion,” he told her, shrugging in the end.

But Iris felt intrigued by that tiny vial. It seemed interesting even though its usage wasn’t that great. Although, she did agree with Azrael on some points; she did not think the rate of fear would be so high that it would need a potion to get rid of.

They began walking out of the potions chamber when they were both done discussing about the potion. As Iris and Azrael walked ahead after closing the door of the chamber, Iris’s mind went numb for a long moment. She stopped walking. Her feet stumbled and she involuntarily rested her hand on the wall for support. It didn’t help. She fell to the floor as her insides went completely numb. She could not move. And then suddenly her senses went back to normal. Azrael was crouched down before her with his hand on her shoulder.

“Are you alright?” He asked, with a look of concern. Iris nodded silently. She pushed herself up to standing, unable to understand what had happened. For a moment, she looked at Azrael suspiciously. He had done that before. He had paralyzed her. But what she had felt then was different. It hadn’t made her mind numb as such. Azrael was just manipulative, but could he have done this? She wondered and started walking further, leaving Azrael behind. He shrugged to himself and walked in the opposite direction.

Iris reached the entrance of the great hall where Nicholas was sitting with Erasmus and someone else beside him. She frowned. The man in front of Nicholas was someone she failed to recognize. Is he a new addition to the army? She wondered. Taking a step forward, she tried to look at his face closely, but could barely see it. Erasmus then looked up to find Iris standing there with her eyes stuck on their visitor.

“Iris, come in,” he told her. Iris snapped her head towards him and without a thought, headed in further to where they were sitting. The visitor was now looking at her when his conversation with Nicholas was interrupted. His eyebrows were raised as he watched Iris settle herself on the chair in front of him.

“Iris, I would like you to meet someone,” said Nicholas. “This is Eridanus. He is joining the coven,” he told her. “Eridanus, this is Iris. She is brilliant at reading minds,” he said to the visitor, smiling. Iris looked at Eridanus and he grinned, which she returned.

“You were the one that paralyzed me just now,” she said to him. Her eyes were solely focussed on him and she suddenly had a vision of him connecting his mind to hers without her knowledge. Eridanus looked at her, amused as well as impressed. Iris observed that he was rather similar to Nicholas in behaviour. Although she had known him for less than a minute, she could make out how he supposedly was.

Eridanus had hazel eyes, dull yet magnificent. They were his most attractive feature. His hair was brown, with a hint of blonde in them. He had a square jaw, a tiny nose, broad shoulders and a tall frame as far as Iris could judge since he was sitting. A smirk was covering his features as he observed Iris and she noticed that he had a manly build, with a boyish charm. It was a strange blend, but not unpleasant to look at.

“He paralyzed you?” asked Nicholas, frowning as he looked back and forth between the two. Iris nodded, without taking her eyes off of Eridanus. They held a piercing gaze.

“He has similar powers like me. He created a connection between our minds. I think it’s probably because there was no other mind that he thought was weak enough to invade, since all of you here are quite experienced in blocking your minds and protecting them, unlike me. I’m still the mastering the art,” she said. Her gaze was still focussed on him.

“Brightest witch indeed,” said Eridanus, smiling.