21. Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-One
Aidan
T he helicopter ride was tense. Amelia sat across from me, nervously twisting her hair, her unease palpable. I wanted to reassure her, but I didn’t want to overwhelm her.
I leaned forward, trying to meet her gaze.
“Hey, you, okay?” I asked gently, though I already knew the answer. She was far from okay.
Amelia turned to look at me, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and uncertainty.
“I don’t know, Aidan. This feels… wrong. What if this witch can’t help us? What if she’s part of the danger, or worse?” Her voice trembled slightly.
I took a deep breath and moved to sit beside her.
“Listen, I know this is scary. But we’re not alone in this. We have each other. We’re getting answers, and together, we’ll figure it out. You’re not in this by yourself. And besides this is a witch I have known for a long time.”
She gave me a small nod, though I could tell she was still holding onto her doubts. I placed a reassuring hand on hers.
“We’ll be okay,” I said, my voice steady, even though I knew the journey ahead of us would be anything but easy.
The helicopter landed in a clearing, and Fergus stood waiting, flanked by his army of vampires, all watching the area with wary eyes.
"Everything is in place, Aidan, the witch now stays in Sanvala forest, it’s a two-hour drive from here," Fergus said as he stepped forward, his expression unreadable but his presence commanding. “We’ve reinforced the perimeter. Your safety is our top priority.”
Amelia tensed beside me, and I could see her nerves were still high.
“Amelia, it’s going to be fine,” I said, squeezing her hand. She didn’t respond immediately, but her grip on my hand tightened, a silent acknowledgment that she was trying to steady herself.
After a long drive we finally arrived at the forest.
“We have to continue on foot,” Fergus said.
We all got out of our vehicles and then the vampires behind us began acting strangely, their pace faltering, eyes darting nervously. One by one, they started complaining.
“My throat,” one of them muttered, his voice strained. “It’s burning.”
“What the hell is this?” another one groaned, clutching his throat in distress.
Even Fergus seemed affected. His face was contorted with pain as he slowed his pace, hand pressed to his throat.
“It’s unbearable,” Fergus said.
Amelia and I were unaffected, our steps steady as we continued. I glanced at her, a silent question passing between us.
“But … we’re fine,” she whispered, though I could tell her nerves were only growing.
A voice, deep and commanding, boomed through the forest.
“Only Aidan and Amelia may continue,” it said, the authority in its tone undeniable. “Anyone who follows them will die.”
The vampires froze, their pain escalating, but they hesitated, retreating slowly, leaving us alone in the forest.
Amelia looked at me, her eyes wide with uncertainty.
“Aidan, what is this?” she whispered.
I shook my head, not knowing how to answer. But I knew one thing: the witch wanted us, and only us, to continue. So, we walked on, our path narrowing, the trees closing in around us.
“Now I am getting scared…” Amelia whispered.
“You don’t have to be, I’m with you and I won’t let anything happen to you, just walk beside me and don’t let anything distract you. The witch might want to test us.”
We walked for hours, the forest silent around us, until we reached a small hut with no door, just an open space, an invitation or a warning.
“Enter, but do not be afraid. The time has come,” The voice returned.
I gave Amelia a reassuring look before stepping inside. The hut closed around us, its dark interior illuminated by a soft fire. An old woman appeared, her eyes sharp despite her age, gesturing to the seats in front of her.
“Sit,” she commanded, her voice soothing yet demanding.
We sat, the weight of the moment heavy. An ancient presence hung in the air. Leaning forward, I spoke with steady curiosity.
“Do you remember me?”
She smiled, a slow, knowing smile that sent a chill through me.
“How could I forget? You are the one linked to both the cursed one and the chosen one.” Her eyes flickered between Amelia and me, her gaze lingering on our connected fates.
I straightened, my voice steady despite the weight of the moment pressing down on me.
"We’ve come for answers," I said, meeting the old woman’s sharp gaze.
The old woman’s smile faded as she studied Amelia, her gaze intense, searching for something beyond the surface.
"You seek answers about her reincarnation," the woman murmured, her voice soft but carrying an undercurrent of ancient power. "And about Alma... the past that’s been reborn through her. It is not as simple as you think."
Amelia shifted beside me, her hand trembling slightly as she gripped mine.
"Please," Amelia’s voice broke through the silence, filled with quiet desperation. "I need to know what happened to Alma... why I was chosen to be her. Why is her soul in me, and what that means for everything we’re facing. Is it fate? Or something darker?"
The old woman leaned forward, her eyes glinting with something ancient, something older than time itself.
"Alma was a powerful soul, very courageous, one that transcended the boundaries of death, she died while trying to prevent a tragedy," she began, her voice carrying a haunting weight. "When she died, the forces that surrounded her left a crack in the fabric of the universe. A crack that would one day be filled. And you, Amelia, were the one meant to fill it."
I felt a chill run down my spine, but I stayed silent, watching as Amelia’s face paled at the woman’s words.
"You don’t just look like Alma, Amelia," the woman continued, her gaze now focused entirely on her. "You carry the weight of Alma’s fate and the bloodline she left behind. The moment she died, her essence sought a new body to reincarnate into. And through certain... alignments, her soul found its new home in you."
"So, I’m not just... I’m not just a normal person?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
The woman shook her head slowly.
"You were chosen, not by chance. But by the forces of the bloodlines, the ancient ties between vampires and werewolves. A balance must be maintained, and your existence is both a blessing and a curse."
I took a step forward, my voice low and urgent.
"What does this mean? What do we need to do? Is this... prophecy real? The one Finn’s father wrote about, the one that spoke of destruction, of war?"
The old woman’s eyes softened as she regarded me, her expression unreadable.
"The prophecy is not a simple prediction," she said, her tone gravely serious. "It is a consequence of what has already begun. The child of the dual bloodline the one who carries both vampire and werewolf heritage will be the key to ending it all. But that child will also be the one who brings about the greatest destruction, unless both the chosen and cursed bloodlines can reconcile."
I clenched my jaw, my thoughts racing.
"And what does Amelia have to do with this reconciliation? What choice does she have in it?"
"The chosen one’s role is to bridge the divide," the woman said, her voice heavy with a foreboding finality. "But unless she finds balance within herself, the darkness will consume her. Alma’s soul did not return merely to live again. She returned to prevent the fall of both species, to end the war before it begins. But only you, Amelia, can make the choice to stop it."
I could see the weight of the woman’s words pressing down on Amelia, and I knew the path ahead would not be an easy one.
I turned back to the woman, my voice firm.
"And if she can’t find that balance? What happens then?"
The woman’s eyes darkened.
"If she fails, the war will ignite. And both vampires and werewolves will be wiped out, leaving only the humans to reign, unchallenged." She paused, her gaze flickering with something ancient. "But if Amelia succeeds, she will unite the two bloodlines and bring about peace. A peace forged from the blood of the chosen one."
I nodded, the gravity of her words sinking in.
"What do we need to do next?"
She leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing.
"You have to find the cursed one and end him."
“And how do we end him?” Amelia asked.
“Your blood and only your blood can end him,” the witch said.
“Does my sister Vera have anything to do with the cursed one?” I asked.
The witch's eyes flickered as I asked about Vera.
"In due time, you'll find out, but for now..." She leaned forward, studying Amelia with a mysterious intensity. "Would you like to know how Alma died?"
I hesitated, glancing at Amelia, unsure if we were ready to face the truth of Alma’s past.
I finally nodded.
“Yes. Tell us.”
The old woman handed us a wooden bowl filled with a dark, tar-like liquid. I exchanged a glance with Amelia, feeling the ancient power in the substance, knowing it would change everything.
“Drink,” the witch commanded, her voice firm yet calm.
Amelia hesitated but then followed my lead. We both took a sip, the taste harsh, like nothing I had ever known.
“Oh my … it burns so much…” Amelia lamented.
At that moment, everything around me shifted.
The world around us seemed to dissolve, and I found myself standing in the hall of a house I knew all too well.
“This is my house, but this was the interior design I had years ago.”
The memories came flooding back as I looked around: the grand wooden staircase, the dark, polished floors, the paintings of my family that lined the walls.
“This is where Alma and I lived, this is where our love blossomed.”
“I think we went back in time…” Amelia muttered.
And then I saw her—Alma. She was standing in the living room, moving with the grace I remembered, but something was off. Her expression was tense, like she was hiding something.
“Alma…” I called out to her, desperate, but she didn’t hear me. It was like I wasn’t even there. My heart twisted in my chest. I stepped forward, reaching out for her, but she passed right through me, unaware of my presence.
Amelia stood beside me, her eyes wide with shock.
"Aidan, they can’t see us. We can only watch."
We walked into the living room, and my younger self stood there, face red with frustration, arguing with Alma. He was demanding answers, his voice shaking with emotion.
"Where do you go every night, Alma?" I could hear my younger self asking, his voice strained. "Why can’t you tell me?"
Alma looked away; guilt written all over her face.
"I can’t, Aidan. There are things I’m not ready to tell you yet."
He stormed out, angry, while Alma stood there, filled with regret. I wanted to scream at her, but I was powerless to change anything.
What’s going on? I thought as the scene shifted, and now it was later that night.
Alma was sitting alone in the living room, her eyes tired and distant. The door creaked open, and Vera entered.
"I just wanted to check on you, Alma, do you need my help with anything?" Vera said, her voice sweet but laced with something darker. She stepped closer, and Alma looked up, startled.
"I don’t need your help, Vera," Alma said, her voice tight. "I know about your evil plans"
From the shadows, Lancelot emerged, his face hard and eyes cold, silently watching Alma like a predator.
Vera smiled, but it was vile, twisted.
"You won’t stop me, Alma," she said, her voice almost mocking. "You’ve already failed. You think you’re the hero here, but you’re nothing."
Alma stood up, her fists clenching.
"I’ll stop you. I will stop both of you. If anything happens to me, Aidan will know the truth. He’ll know what you’re hiding."
Vera’s smile turned darker, more sinister.
"Then let him know," she hissed, "but it won’t matter. He’s already too far gone."
In an instant, the room seemed to close in around Alma, and Lancelot lunged forward, grabbing her with surprising strength.
“What is he doing!” I snapped.
“They can’t hear you, Aidan,” Amelia said.
He held her down as Vera stepped forward, her hand raised. I knew what was coming. My chest tightened, and my breath caught in my throat.
Vera’s hand plunged into Alma’s chest, and she ripped her heart out.
“No!” I screamed as I watched Alma’s lifeless body collapse to the floor.
Tears filled my eyes, but I couldn’t look away. I saw myself watching, helpless, standing in the corner of the room.
“What’s happening?” I said.
The vision ended abruptly, and I was back in the witch’s hut, gasping for air. I looked around, disoriented, my heart still heavy with what I had just witnessed.
“Aidan are you okay?” Amelia asked as she held me.
My throat was tight, my mind reeling from the truth that had just been revealed.
"She didn’t deserve that," I whispered, my voice breaking.
The witch’s voice cut through the silence.
"Now you know the truth. The time to act is upon you."
The witch blew a powder on our faces, and we found ourselves where we left Fergus and the other vampires.