The Longing

Chapter 55

The forest held a heavy, somber air, its depths cloaked in shadows that seemed to warn away strangers that entered here.

Above, the moon cast a cold, silver radiance upon it, a solitary sentinel illuminating the dark, while a faint breeze stirred the leaves with a ghostly, rhythmic sigh.

An array of lights inside the castle danced their flickering light against the tapestries, casting a warm, golden brightness across the stone hallways.

It was an abundance of activity as the servants hurried in all directions, some were in charge of clearing the bedrooms, while others worked on the feast for the evening.

The king and queen sits upon their raised throne, a golden crown above their head. A chalice on their hand as they spoke to one another.

The staff in the room was cleaning up, making sure everything was spotless, well aware that the Queen's eye allow not a single speck of dust.

A sudden, rhythmic pounding fell upon the twin oak doors. The sound reverberated like a thunderclap through the now-hushed expanse of the hall, catching the attention of everyone in the room.

With practiced fluidity, the two guards stationed at the threshold heaved the heavy timber open with ease.

"Your Majesty."

The King turned to the voice, his eyebrows raising.

A figure approached the dais, the loud thud of his dark leather boots marking his steady progress across the hall.

He was shrouded in a heavy black coat that swept the floor, concealing his form from neck to toe in a column of midnight wool. As he drew near the crown, the torchlight caught his gaze, revealing eyes of a deep, unyielding brown that betrayed nothing of his intent.

With a flick of his hand and a cold, wordless command, such an imperious gesture, the King clears the hall. The courtiers and attendants vanished into the shadows of the corridor, retreating in a hushed procession with their valuables in tow.

The man now kneels with his right knee, his arm resting atop of it.

"I assume you have good news for me, Damien."

The man nodded, bowing. "I do, sire. We have captured the people on the run. We managed to hunt them down before they happen to go back to their world."

This brought a smile on the king's wrinkled face. "Then we shall return them to their daughters."

The queen clapped her hands twice. In response, a concealed door to their right swung inward, and a woman clad in furnished armor strode across the stone.

With the practiced clatter of metal on floor, she dropped to one knee before her monarch, her head bowed in a gesture of absolute fealty.

"My Liege, it is a pleasure to be summoned by you."

This brought a smile on the queen's lips, arrogance reflected behind those dark eyes.

"Hazel, my dear. I need you to do something for me."

The queen dismissed the man with a swift wave hand, signaled the man's departure. The stranger inclined his head in a deep, formal bow before turning on his heel, his footsteps fading into the distance until the heavy doors once again sealed the chamber in silence.

"Anything, my lady." Hazel declares, her sword clinging to her waist.

"As my husband's greatest warrior, you are to deliver something to Titus."

Hearing his name spiked the woman's heart. Titus. The man she looks up to, the man she wants to become and the man who she claims for herself.

"I will do it, my lady." Hazel's lips curved into a triumphant smile, a flash of white against the dim hall that suggested she had already tasted victory.

To any observer, her expression was that of a loyal soldier honored by a prestigious charge.

In truth, the mission was merely a convenient shroud.

Her resolve was fueled not by duty to the crown, but by a singular, private ambition: to finally stand before the Dark Alpha and offer him her hand—and her life.

Delusional scenarios started to play inside her head. What a glorious wedding it would be once they marry. And what beautiful children they will have once she bears an heir for the Alpha King.

The sensation sent a sudden shiver racing across her skin, raising goosebumps beneath the cold weight of her armor.

The distance between them felt like an eternity. She was consumed by a singular, desperate hunger to stand in his presence once more.

And once more, she shall.

The king chuckles in amusement.

"Go."

Death is inevitable for everyone, it's simply something that cannot be changed. It's not planned but it will happen, and when it happens, we all just wish we're not on both the receiving end of its effect.

"Your death."

I woke up in surprise, startled by what the witch had said. My heart rate sped up, but I find no reason behind it.

It just kept beating.

I turned the lamp on the table beside me, giving light to my surroundings. It was still dark outside, which means I only had a few hours of sleep.

I sigh heavily, putting away the sheets and getting up, stretching a little bit. It's cold yet it was warm inside my room that it didn't bother me.

I went to the table a few feet away from me, grabbed the water on it and took a sip, quenching my thirst. I groaned in satisfaction, the drink restoring my energy and soothing my nerves.

I put the glass down and took a seat in front of the desk, fatigue leaving my body. I haven't been this exhausted ever since my first rodeo in the military.

Flicking on the lamp on the table to brighten up the room, I stared at the paper in front of me.

There's this thing that keeps bothering me when I dream.

So I wrote everything down right from the beginning, when the witch first started visiting me in my dreams.

It wasn't always like this, but I had this feeling that whatever riddle she keeps throwing at me, she's trying to cover up the real answer she's trying to make me see.

I can feel her desperation whenever she appears, her anger and dedication. I have no clue why she's feeling those things but I think it's time I find out.

I grabbed the paper and picked up the nearest pen. I wrote down what she said to me today, aligning it along with the other ones.

Why was she hiding it though? I don't think anyone is capable of accessing one's brain unless they're powerful enough.

But in my time here, I don't think anyone is stronger than Titus.

That man is a living, breathing menace. Just the thought of him made my heart race. His warm touches, the way he gets close, his calm breath brushing my ears when he whispers so only I could hear it.

Pause.

I shook my head, I will not let that man distract me from my thoughts again. I need to find out who the witch is.

I tried recalling my dreams, the situation, the atmosphere, everything. But I can't remember if she told me her name.

I just hope it's written in here. I spread out the paper after writing down the last word, my eyes roaming around the paper.

The first thing I noticed was that everything she said made sense, except the last one. Out of everything, the last one still has to happen.

Your death.

Except, maybe it did. But she was there that day, she helped me wake up from comatose and the next thing I know, Lennox was there and so was Lazarus.

Am I about to die again? Fuck, I hate dying, honestly.

I brought my eyes back to the paper, realization dawned upon me when I read the first letters from her riddles.

What she kept saying wasn't just about the future, she was a seer, I gathered that much. What I didn't catch up on was the memo from her riddles.

It is inevitable.

Across the river.

Monster.

Nourish her.

Only one queen may remain

The Castle.

Treasure him.

"Help.

...Forest..."

Earn it.

Eagerness leads to nothing.

Never surrender.

Edge of the cliff.

Mutant.

Your death.

It's all she said, the words that stuck with me ever since I felt unease inside my own head.

I wrote everything.

I AM NOT THE ENEMY.

Huh.

From the start, I knew she wasn't, so I warmed up to her. But for her to hide this from me, something doesn't add up.

My decisions should've turned her off by now, actually. I mean, dying twice, almost dying, getting locked up and got beaten up.

I am such a wreck.

I'm still not convinced that's what she was trying to say, if she's smart enough, there's gotta be something in her words.

I'm surprised with how many books I've read I still don't know what I'm looking for.

This is giving me a headache and I just got better.

I hit my head on the table, annoyed with my lack of knowledge about this.

Honestly, I'm good at riddles, I won a school tournament with it, I even play escape room with my friends and those have lots of puzzles and riddles.

So how come I can't see anything on this paper?

I stayed in that position for a while, my head on the table while I play with the pen on my left hand.

For a moment, I thought about everything that happened when we entered this world. It made me think how we got to survive in it even.

I mean, most would just move on from their life never knowing something like this exists, that something this magical and jaw dropping is a few hours drive from the road.

But I got up a few minutes after my back ached. I know it won't appear now but I'm gonna find something soon. Not later.

It'll be too late by then.

I laid down once again on the bed, the soft, warm covers sinking beneath me. I sigh once again in relief.

My eyes settled at the ceiling, my thoughts racing one another as I try to make sense of the riddle.

As a certified nerd, my sister always said that there's words inside the given words itself.

And as a certified sister of that nerd, I jumbled the letters inside my head. I tried to create something out of it rather than what she said.

Methane?

Aynie?

Amenity?

What the hell am I doing?

I was about to throw myself from the window when suddenly, it clicked. I startled up and grabbed the pen, writing down the word I manage to finally build.

Anthemy.

Those books back at the cabin, when I was alone with Titus and was having the best rest of my life, I read a book about the fantasy world and how it affects the delusions of the readers.

I remembered the word because it was my first time reading it and seeing it, so I took note of it and forgot to search it up.

I grabbed my phone on the table and googled it, the loading screen feeling like an eternity with its roundabouts.

It read,

Hidden bower; an overgrown, botanical dwelling where a hedge witch might hide her cottage behind thickets and blooms.

Fuck.

I grabbed my things and left the room. It was night so I have time to sneak out, if anyone saw me right now, I won't be able to find the witch.

Especially Titus, he's a dictator and he'll stop me because it's dangerous.

I know it is. I don't care anyways as long as I get my answers.

I hid behind a wall when I heard chatter, I witness two guards roaming, they're probably on patrol right now.

I took a deep breath and looked around the room, it was one of the kitchen's in this huge ass house, which I still can't map for my life.

The window was open with the cold wind seeping in. The guards heavy footsteps were getting closer to my place.

I groaned inwardly and crossed the room, threw myself out the window as an opportunity to escape.

I landed with a thud on the perfectly cut grass, my body was still sore but it'll hold, hopefully.

My legs took off and ran straight to the trees, and I continued till my feet were about to give up on me.

No matter what happens tonight, I'll find her. I'll cross rivers, climb mountains and fight fucking bears if I have to.

I'm in deep into the forest by now yet I still have no clue what to do or if I'm going in the right path.

Right.

My ears picked up the whisper of the wind, goosebumps trailing in my arms. I sigh in relief as I recognize the voice of it.

You better not confuse me, witch.

I followed her directions, followed where the wind blew and listened to her voice.

You'll feel my barrier surround you as soon as you cross it. Don't fret, it'll let you in.

By the time I reach her hidden home, I was sweating a lot and needed to take a break.

And oh fuck, I forgot to bring at least an apple or sandwich. I'm hungry as fuck.

I stood at the edge of the clearing, my breath catching as the Anthemy revealed itself. It wasn't just a house; it was as if the forest had exhaled a cottage.

Walls of thick, ancient stone were barely visible beneath a living tapestry of moss, ivy, and vibrant wildflowers that seemed to glow with an unnatural, internal light.

Holy hell.

I stepped forward, my shoes clicking softly on the smooth river stones of the path. To my left, a small pond rippled, a wisp of ethereal blue magic spiraling up from the water like frozen smoke.

Might take a whiff of that, I don't know.

I drew closer, my eyes wandering to the massive tree guarding the entrance, its bark etched with glowing golden runes.

I felt a strange pull, a mixture of trepidation and intense curiosity, I think.

I reach the heavy, rounded wooden door, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

I took a steadying breath and raised my hand, curling my fingers into a fist to knock.

But before my knuckles could graze the wood, the door swung inward with a silent, heavy grace.

I let out a sharp gasp, jumping back so quickly I nearly tripped over a stray root, fucking embarrassing.

Framed by the warm, amber glow of flickering candlelight and the scent of dried herbs, stood the witch.

Woah.

She didn't look like a creature of myth, but her eyes held the stillness of a deep well, watching me with a knowing, faint smile that suggested she had heard my footsteps long before I had even entered her property.

Finally, the woman of my dreams.

"Katie."

"Hello, witch." She chuckles at my response, guiding herself to the side and encouraging me to set foot in her home.

I gulped, the door clicked shut behind me as soon as I entered. The interior of the cottage was a dizzying defiance of geometry, it kinda felt significantly larger inside than it had appeared from the path.

I hate illusions.

The air was thick and warm, humming with a low, harmonic vibration that I feel in my teeth. The witch didn't say a word, only beckoned me with a slender, pale hand, her cloak trailing behind her.

We moved through a narrow hallway where the walls were lined from floor to ceiling with shelves. My eyes darted around, trying to take it all in.

The witch pushed aside a heavy curtain of interlocking wooden beads that clattered like falling rocks. "In here," she murmured.

I shiver inwardly. So far, she's proven herself to be creepy.

The brewing room was a cathedral of alchemy. In the center, a massive iron cauldron sat nestled in a stone hearth, but there was no wood fire beneath it, the pot hovered over a cluster of violet flames that gave off no heat.

I'd dart out of here if I felt anything hot near me, not today. The walls here were not stone or wood, but racks of thousands of tiny drawers and hanging bundles of drying flora.

The witch stopped by the cauldron, the violet light casting long, dancing shadows across her sharp features. She gestured toward a high-backed stool made of twisted willow.

"Sit, Katie," she said, finally meeting my gaze.

"The tea is almost finished, and this conversation is long overdue."

I obediently sat on one of her wooden chairs, preferably the one closer to where she was.

"Tell me why you speak in codes." I began.

She looks up, her eyes landing on mine as she pours the tea. "There are too many ears from where you are. It is dangerous to share everything when she's there."

"Who?"

"The queen."

My eyes widened in shock, "What about her?" She hands me the cup she just filled tea with and I took it gracefully.

Feels criminal to decline it even though I don't drink tea. I tried it once and I gagged so I never felt the need to repeat the action.

But she didn't seem to notice my discomfort as she pours one for herself. "You are well aware of what she is?"

I nodded, setting the cup beside me. "A seer, a rare species of your kind, like you."

The witch chuckles, "She is not rare. She is a common bitch pretending to be a gem."

My eyebrows furrowed, "What?"

"We have many seers, and when I mean many, eighty five percent of most covens are born with seer capabilities."

"Oh."

"Your so called 'queen' is a master manipulator and one who is hungry for power. "

Her tone was full of mockery, as if she doesn't believe the queen to be true.

"But she saved my life, and so did the king."

"You call that saving?" Her tone was ominous, the playful one gone.

"They treated you well because she foresaw your arrival. They gave you a home as profit for their intentions when the time is right."

I froze, "She knows who I am long before I stepped foot into their territory, didn't she?"

The witch nods which broke my heart into tiny little pieces. All those warm hands, soft eyes, it was all for show?

"What about my brother?"

"Your brother is nothing but a pawn in their game, and he will do anything for them."

"If you have not perceived it, they raised your brother when you lost him, they took that chance to gain more power."

"Power?"

"You are ignorant as you are smart. How else did your brother survive the fire?"

"He was born to control and consume the flames, and so the fire did not harm him. The crown does not know of this, only your brother does."

"A wolf in sheep's clothing."

"Your sentences are quite contradictory." I hummed.

She rolls her eyes at me but didn't answer, so I asked her again.

"How do you know everything?"

"Apart from being born a seer, some of us witches are gifted with the vessel of memory. It is power granted to us by the goddess that glimpse the past of someone as soon as we astral project into their dreams."

"Percentage?"

"Fifteen."

"Fuck."

I should be really careful.

"How do I know you're not the one lying?"

"Look into the smoke." The witch throws something into the cauldron, it exploded loudly, the flames raised higher than before.

"The past is never truly gone, Katie. It just waits for someone with the right eyes to wake it up."

I gazed upon the violet cloud, I didn't see a regal protector; I saw a puppet master.

"She is the reason you're here."

I watched the spectral image of the Queen standing over a map, her eyes cold and calculating, sacrificing wolves like pawns and weaving a web of lies that had led me directly into this forest.

All those wolves that attacked us, it was because of her command. Their lives on my hands because they were following orders.

She planned for me to be by her side.

I surged to my feet, the willow stool clattering against the stone floor. The awe that had filled me moments ago was incinerated by a white-hot flash of betrayal.

This changes everything.

"She used me," I spat, my voice trembling not with fear, but with fury. I turned to the witch, my hands clenched into fists.

"All that talk of 'divine duty' and 'the greater good'... it was just a script. She's not saving the kingdom, she's just clearing the board for herself."

The witch remained eerily still, the green firelight dancing in her hollow eyes. She didn't offer comfort, which only fueled my rage.

"And you," I pointed an accusing finger at the basin.

"You sit here in your Anthemy, watching the world bleed through your little windows of time, playing the 'neutral observer' while she pulls the strings. You knew! You knew she was a manipulative seer, and you let me walk right into her trap."

I was speaking erratically. I wasn't in my right mind, I am angry.

The witch tilted her head, a stray lock of hair falling over her face. "I am a record-keeper, Katie. I show the truth, I do not choose how you feel about it."

My voice raised, "Truth? Choose? Those things that are taken away and hidden from me? Go shove it up your ass. Because of this bullshit, I'm still searching for the two important people in my life."

She reached out with a slow, deliberate motion and rested a cool hand atop the obsidian rim of the basin, stilling the water and silencing the ghostly echoes of the Queen's treachery.

"The fire in your blood is honest, Katie," the witch said softly, the green flames beneath the cauldron settling back into a calm, steady violet.

"But rage is a blurred lens. If you walk out now, you walk into the wind."

I took a deep breath.

"You need to calm down."

"I know." Groaning, I pulled the willow stool back toward me and sat, though my posture remained as rigid as the stone walls.

I looked at the witch, really looking at her this time. I needed to know the price of the truth, and more importantly, I needed to know how to strike back without being seen.

"She told me she'd help me find my parents." I murmur, shame in my eyes.

The witch sighs in disappointment. "She has said thousands of lies in her life, what's one more to ensure her victory and the kingdom?"

I took a steady breath and looked the witch in the eye. "If she sees so much," I started, my voice now dangerously low, "then tell me... what is the one thing she refuses to look at?"

She chuckles at my question, "My name is Greta."

Confused, I waited for her next words. "I forbade speaking my name to individuals unless I concur that they are worthy of it."

"Am I now?"

"With that question? You are more than."

"And to answer, it's her death."

I snorted, of course it's her doom she refuses to look at.

"Can you see it?"

"Yes."

"Tell me."

"If I speak of it, it will refuse to take place. I want her gone."

"Then I'll kill her myself." I stood up, the willow stool scraping harshly against the stone. I didn't look back at the cauldron or the shimmering basin.

"Whatever it takes."

My gaze was fixed on the heavy wooden door, the exit to a world I was about to set on fire. As my hand gripped the iron latch, I paused.

"I'll save everyone from her wrath," I said, my voice a vow that vibrated through the very foundations of the cottage.

I pulled the door open, but before I could take a single step into the mossy clearing, a horrific, wet sound tore through the room.

I spun around. It was Greta, gasping as if she were drowning on dry land. She was bent over the table, her fingernails clawing at the wooden sides.

Her eyes had rolled back, showing only a terrifying, milky white, and her body jerked forward aggressively.

"Greta!" I lunged back toward her, but the witch's hand shot out, gripping my wrist with a strength that felt like a vice.

"She knows you're here," She whispers, her voice breaking.

"She sent an army of wolves the moment you crossed the tree line. The army... they reached my barrier already."

"What? No, I—I have to go back," I stammered, pulling away, but Greta didn't let go.

"It's too late, Katie. Titus... he just opened his door." Greta's face contorted in pain as the vision forced its way into her mind.

"There are two boxes on his doorstep. A gift from the palace."

The world tilted. The smell of mint and ozone vanished, replaced by the imaginary, metallic stench of death.

"Your parents... their heads were delivered to your pack's doorstep."

My knees hit the stone floor.

The words 'heads delivered in a box' looped in my brain, a grotesque image that shattered the last of my composure.

"No," I breathed, a small, broken sound. "No, no, no."

It began as a whimper and developed into a jagged, primal cry that appeared to knock the jars off the shelf.

It was the sound of a soul breaking in two, not just anguish.

They're dead.

I hear shuffling somewhere so I looked up, my eyes lacking their usual light. Tears blurring my vision.

Greta quickly casts a shimmering veil over the cottage, weaving a spell of redirection and silence to hide us from the approaching hoofbeats of the Queen's men.

She pulled the grieving girl—me, into the shadows of the brewing room, but I was already gone.

They're fucking dead and you're here drinking tea.

Greta's touch felt horrid so I shook her hands away, falling to my knees once more. My strength was no longer present.

I spoke with a monotone voice, "Show me everything."

But Greta looked hesitant on doing so, I repeated my words more strongly this time.

"I will cut your throat if you deny me my right to those visions."

"Katie..."

"It's okay."

I wasn't sure if I was reassuring her or myself. Either way, it won't erase what she just said. Nor will I forget it.

Tears continue to flow from my eyes, never seeming to stop. Greta stood with unease, not knowing what to do with a girl who just lost her parents.

It fueled my bloodlust, a feeling I long since forgot about after winning the war. But in this moment, I vowed to pick up my gun and bring chaos to their kingdom.

The girl who wanted to save everyone had died in that moment.

No more others, no more saving strangers. No more heart racing memories, no more lost hope for the future.

No more peace.

In her place, huddled on the floor of the witch's hidden lair, was something far more dangerous.

The Queen hadn't just secured her victory; she had created the very monster she was too afraid to look at.

Not her future, not her death.

Me.

And I shall be both.