2. Aniah
Aniah
I hugged my knees to my chest and stared up at the stars.
The past few nights had been cloudy, and I didn’t realize how much I would miss their light.
I’d grown accustomed to living my life in the comfort of the dark, like those I served, since my posting all those years ago across the sea.
Many celebrations took place under the night sky, where I, too, would dance and take part in the festivities.
As a Witchling, my mother often said we could recharge our magic in the moonlight better than in sunlight. She said that the sun was harsh and unpredictable, whereas the moon was smooth and dependable.
Long ago in my village, the moonlit nights were filled with lively gatherings, where we would dance around blazing bonfires that crackled, sending sparks into the night sky.
Oblivious to the woes in the world and the troubles beyond our shores.
The air was rich with the scent of wild herbs and baked sweets from the feasts that brought our village together.
The soft hum of ancient songs, sung by the matrons, echoed through the trees.
Their harmonies wove a tapestry of warmth and unity among the snow and ice that made up the Northern Realm.
How I ached to hear those songs now.
“You okay?” A deep male voice pulled me away from the memories. I turned toward my companion and offered a small smile.
“Just demons from my past.”
He settled on the ground beside me, hanging his head back to look up at the clear night sky.
“I know the feeling.” His long, wavy white hair was pulled halfway back and hung nearly to the ground. It looked as if his hair hadn’t seen a blade since we’d left home. Has that much time truly passed? “Want to tell me what’s on your mind?”
I chewed on my lip.
“You never told me how you got that,” he said, nodding toward the tattoo on my forearm—a melting rose.
“It’s not a pretty story. You know how Witches like me get those marks.” I ran my finger along the ink, my brows furrowing.
“Aniah, you’re nothing like the others.” His bright gaze locked on me.
A sigh scraped out of my throat.
“It was a long time ago. When the Coven Council snatched me for the Witch trials. I was only six. Of course, I didn’t want to do the trials.
The village tried to help my mother hide me, but a lesser Witch named Ophelia turned us in…
my whole village ended up burning to the ground—my mother with it.
” I swallowed thickly, casting my gaze away from his as I steeled myself.
“Looking back, I shouldn’t have survived the trials.
My emotions were erratic from the pain I carried.
But that raw emotion fueled my magic, and it awakened something great and devastating in me—a power tinged with darkness.
I let the hurt and rage consume me—fuel me.
In the end, I ranked second overall and was welcomed as one of the Four Sisters with open arms. It’s the highest honor to be chosen.
But I left the trials with my soul shredded. ”
A tear fell as the smoke from our small fire pulled me right back to my village when it was obliterated. And the fire spells I cast during the trials—the burning flesh—
I swiped at my cheek and nose, and suddenly, his large hand warmed my shoulder.
“After a year of training at the Dead Isles, where the Coven Council resides, they sent me back to the Northern Realm for a test. I was supposed to cast a curse I’d been practicing—a drought.
But the Coven Council was cunning. They sent me to the new village Ophelia lived in.
” I shook my head, the lesser Witch’s face branded in my mind.
“She was there with her daughter. And… I can’t explain it.
Rage fueled me. One minute I was watching them, the next I was running at her with ancient, dark words spilling from my lips—” more tears tracked down my cheeks, a gentle squeeze from his hand reassuring me I wasn’t stuck in the past. “I didn’t even understand them.
She didn’t recognize me until I was on her.
But when the words were done, I flicked my wrist, and her face went slack. ”
“What happened?”
“It was a curse. One that I created, and I didn’t even know. I let the darkness course through me, perverting my magic. It wasn’t until this,” I held up my arm, “burned into my skin that I realized what had happened.”
“What kind of curse?” He dropped his hand and shifted to face me.
“A memory curse.”
My breath hitched as I pressed on.
“I took every memory away from her, including who she was. I was so terrified of what I’d done that I faded into black smoke.
Shadowtraveling is what it was called. The shadows dropped me back at the Isle where the Council waited, pride etched on their faces.
” The fire’s heat faded the deeper I sank into my memories.
“I spent every day after that trying to find a way to reverse it. When I finally did several years later, I went back to that village to undo the curse—but I was too late. Ophelia was dead.”
My head fell forward.
“That was the day I vowed I would never cast a curse again.”
Popping and crackling filled the silence. He pulled me to him, and I took comfort in the embrace, resting my head against his inked shoulder.
“The past shadows us all—especially those of us touched by darkness. What matters is that we don’t give in to it.” Pain tainted his words. I knew he had said them for himself as much as he had for me.
“Aniah.” I wiped my face with my sleeve as I sat up. “We’ve been friends a long time. You were there for me in my darkest time. I’m here too.”
“I know, Ryker.” A small smile tugged at my lips.
“Here.” He handed me a water pouch. “Found a river a few miles south. I know we’ve been here before, but something felt… odd. ”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. As if there was something… familiar. I don’t know. My senses could just be off.”
My brows creased as I eyed him. Not much unsettled him, but whatever he’d felt surely had.
As I drank, the sting of the cold water in my parched throat grounded me in reality, pushing the memories back into the little mental box I kept them locked away in.
Neither of us spoke, but the silence that encased us didn’t bother me as much as it did three years ago. Ryker wasn’t much for words lately, but that’s not the silence I was forced to grow accustomed to.
It was the lack of song from nature.
Wherever he was, the crickets grew quiet, furry animals scurried for their burrows, and frogs ducked beneath the surface of ponds. Even the trees didn’t groan as loudly. Nothing made a sound in his presence. Everything feared him here, unlike back home.
“We have a lead,” he said finally.
A sigh brushed past my lips as I turned my attention back to the stars.