Episode8
1279 Words
Lilian’s POV
I woke up with a slow sigh of exasperation, as my brain registered the smell of burning fabric. This was the third time this was happening–I don’t know if this is as a result of me changing rooms, or maybe it's just PTSD. Regardless of what this was, one thing was certain: Lalita is a witch, and one of her elements was fire. I wonder what other mystery there was to her, aside from her being a witch, and being hunted down by a group of occult.
“Witch assassin,” Sidra corrected.
“Same thing,” I replied, rolling to the side, as I got out of bed, and staring back at me was two scorched hand prints shapes on either side of where I’d been sleeping.
I didn’t waste anymore time, and just stripped the sheets off the mattress, balled them up, shoved them under the bed with the other two sets I’d already ruined. I had one last spare in the wardrobe, and I hope to the goddess I wouldn’t burn this one also.
“” We need to figure out how to control this,” Sidra said, as I began laying the new sheets. “The earlier, the better.”
I sighed in response, knowing fully well that she was right. We need to figure out how to control this fire, or we might end up burning this entire building one day, or even worse, burning ourselves to crisp.
A cold shiver ran down my spine at just the mere thought of it happening–for a second, it felt like I was at the stakes once again as I watched the two people I trusted most burn me alive.
Sidra didn’t say anything and just pressed herself closer inside me, which was her version of a hug, and for a moment since I got reborn, I let myself feel it.
The loss. That deep, unsettling emptiness that the real Lilian—me, was gone. I would never see my face in a mirror again, never see my olive skin, or the pair of eyes my mum always told me reminded her of her mother, my grandmother. Everything was gone. Forever.
I had been Lilian for over twenty-three years, but now, it's only a memory–To myself, Hector, To Raven, and the entire members of StarRidge Pack.
A tear slid down my cheeks, and I quickly wiped it off with the back of my hands–now wasn’t the time to be wallowing in self-pity. I needed to make the most of this chance at life I’ve been given. But first things first, I need to learn how to control the powers of Lalita, and hopefully learn any other things she might have. And there’s only one way to find out a thing or two about witches—books.
The time was 4:39 a.m., but I didn’t mind. I know where the Pack’s library is, saw it on my way to this new room. I quickly put on joggers and a hoodie, and made my way out.
My walk to the library was a blur, but thankfully it was open at this time of the day.
I moved through the shelves quickly and quietly, reading spines, pulling texts with care and replacing them exactly as I'd found them.
I found an aisle that had several books on other species–Vampires, werebears, witches, faes, etc, and In about a minute or two, I found several books on witches.
An excited squeal escaped my lips as I found books on Fire elementals. Elemental magic theory. Witch power structures and their physical manifestations.
Never in my wildest of dreams did I imagine getting excited over this. But hey, I didn’t imagine getting killed or even reborn, so at this point nothing should surprise me anymore.
I found three texts that had what I needed and took them to the table at the far end, away from the door, and opened the first book, and the words on the first page called out to me in ways I couldn’t explain.
"Fire is not the most destructive element — it is the most alive. It does not merely consume. It transforms. It is the only element that can unmake a thing entirely and breathe something new into the ash. To carry fire is not a gift. It is a responsibility the universe grants only to those it has already decided can survive being remade."
I read under my breath without thinking, and the moment I read the last words, the temperature in the library dropped, giving me instant goosebumps.
I sucked in a deep breath, and exhaled shakily, but that did nothing to help with the cold I was suddenly feeling, and neither did the flickering lights in the library.
Instead, my heart began to pound, as fear slowly creeped its way into it. I didn’t know what else to do, so I slammed the book in front of me.
And just like that, everything returned to normal.
“Please tell me that wasn't a figment of my imagination,” I said to Sidra.
“Nope,” she responded.
I closed my eyes for half a second, and breathed in slowly.
And the moment my eyes peeled open, an old man putting on a black cloak with DarkHarrow insignia on it, was leaning lazily to the side with the help of a dark wooden can, and standing three feet away from me.
My heart skipped an unhealthy beat as he had not been there one second ago. I had looked at the entire library when everything went creepy, and no one was there.
The creepy old man was looking at me so intently, or through me, can’t even judge whatever it was those cloudy eyes of his were doing.
“Do you need anything?” I managed to say, keeping my voice as steady as I could.
But he didn’t respond, and just stared at me for a few uncomfortable seconds, before shuffling away without a word.
“What the f**k was that?” Sidra asked wearily.
“I don’t know,” I said, releasing a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “But I don’t like him.”
“Elder Marren hasn’t been in here in over four years,” Alaric’s voice suddenly cut through, startling the s**t out of me.
What is it with DarHarrow Pack members and sneaking up on people?!!!
“Alaric!” I bit out, unable to mask my frustration.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized.
I exhaled slowly, and sat back down, picked a different book, and just opened to some random page.
“What brings you to the library so early?” I asked, intentionally changing the question as I didn’t want to talk about that old man that gives me the creeps.
“There are fewer people who want things from me at 5.a.m,” he responded, and sat down opposite me.
I didn’t know what else to say, and just nodded, before turning my attention back to the book I was clearly not understanding a s**t from.
Alaric and I sat in silence, each buried in their own thoughts, and after a few minutes, Elder Marren, showed up again, and stopped just beside us.
The library that was already quiet, felt eerily quiet.
He stared at me for a long moment, and not a single glance at Alaric who was looking between both of us.
Then in a voice so cold that it sent shivers down my spine, he said…”There are two of you in there.”
- Writer
