The Weight of Returning

The Journey Begins

The week was hell for everyone of them, it was an endless cycle of frustration and failure. Mary and Kelly were determined to awaken Cara’s dormant powers, but every spell they tried seemed to fade into nothingness just like a string of gibberish. Each day, Cara sat in the makeshift training room—a sunlit space in the Morgan estate’s courtyard—going over the ancient grimore that Mary had kept hidden for years. Mary’s voice was steady and clam as she tried to teach her, but even her patience was beginning to fade away.

“Let’s try this again,” Mary said, holding up a small crystal that shone faintly in her palm. “Repeat after me: Lux veritas ignis!”

Cara nodded, herdeeply concentrating. “Lux… veritas… ign—wait, ignis? Or ignire?”

“Ignis!” Mary corrected, her tone filled with frustration.

“Ignis cara Ignis” she added. “Are you paying attention at all? Or do you need a break again?”

Cara sighed, pressing her fingers into the side of her head. “I don’t know why I can’t get this. It’s like the words just… disappear the moment I try.”

“One more time,” Mary urged, though her voice betrayed a hint of weariness. “Feel the magic inside you. Channel it into the words.”

Cara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her lips moved hesitantly, “Lux veritas…” She paused, the final word slipping from her grasp. When she opened her eyes, the crystal remained dim. Defeated, she dropped her hands into her lap. I can’t do this she said breaking into tears

Kelly stepped forward, her voice softer. “Magic isn’t just about words, Cara. It’s about intention. You’re overthinking it. You cant control the magic, let it flow naturally. It’s only when you let it flow that it comes to you.”

But even she Kelly demonstrated a simple illumination spell, Cara could not replicate it. Her attempts were clumsy, the words slurred, and the results nonexistent. On one occasion, she mixed up a levitation incantation with a cleansing spell, causing the training crystal to shatter in a burst of glittering mist and settle uselessly on the floor. The more she tried, the more disheartened she became, and defeated she felt.

Prince Aviv observed silently, his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe. On the seventh day of their efforts, he finally spoke up, his voice cutting through the frustration and tension. “This isn’t working. We’re wasting time.”

Mary turned sharply to him, and snapped, her frustration spilling over. “And what would you suggest, Your Highness?”

Aviv ignored her tone and looked directly at Cara. “You need to be somewhere with stronger magical presence. The Mystic Forest lies on the border between the uplands and hinterlands. The magical elements there might help you cultivate your abilities.”

“The Mystic Forest?” Kelly echoed, her brows furrowing. “Have you forgotten magical elements are not the only thing there, and speaking of the magic there, it is wild and unpredictable. And it is called a forest because no one stays there except for monsters, rejects and criminals.”

“It’s also neutral ground,” Aviv countered. “She can’t go to Eryndor, atleast not yet. Selvya’s forces are still searching for her. And the demon territories are off-limits to witches.”

At this, Mary nodded in agreement. “After the war that led to the separation hundreds of years ago, the treaty clearly stated that witches cannont go into Umbra’zar and demons also cannot step into Eryndor. Too much blood had been spilled on both sides and i’d prefer not to add ours into the mix.”

“And Selvya’s spies are everywhere,” Aviv added. “The forest is our best bet.”

After much debate, they agreed to go into the Mystic Forest to continue Cara’s training. It wasn’t an easy decision—the forest was notorious for its erratic weather, dense thick bushes, treacherous terrain and most especially the monsters. Legends spoke of wild magic running rampant, disrupting spells and drawing these creatures that thrived on chaos. But it was their safest choice, a place where they could hide and train without interference.

The day of their departure came quickly. Cara stood in the doorway of her room, this was where she had both her worst and best memories. The Morgan household has been home to her for as long as she can remember, and the governor has been the only father she ever knew. Her heart was heavy as she prepared to leave. Governor Joseph, stood beside her, his face a mixture of pride and sadness.

“You’re really leaving,” he said, his voice filled with emotion.

Cara nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “I have to. There’s so much I need to figure out about who I am.”

Joseph placed a hand on her shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. “You’ll always be my daughter, Cara. No matter where you go or what you become.”

She threw her arms around him, clinging tightly. “Thank you for everything. For raising me, for loving me… I’ll never forget it.”

He hugged her back, his voice breaking as he whispered, “You make us proud, okay? And come back to us when this is over.”

“I will,” Cara promised, stepping back and wiping her eyes. She turned to her siblings, Mark and Ellie who stood nearby, their expressions somber. Her younger sister Ellie handed her a small charm she had made—a simple token of protection. “Take this. Maybe it’ll help,” she said, her voice trembling.

Cara smiled through her tears and tucked it into her pocket. After tearful goodbyes with them, she joined Mary, Kelly, and Aviv outside. The group set off, their path leading them toward the unknown dangers of the Mystic Forest.

Far away, in Eryndor, Selvya sat on the throne, beating her fingers against the armrest. The throne room was silent except for the flames of the fire in the grand hearth. She stared at a map spread before her, marking the uplands, hinterlands, and the borders of her own kingdom Eryndor.

“We’ve lost their trail,” a subordinate reported, bowing low. “The witches who went on the mission to the uplands, they have vanished without a trace.”

Selvya’s lips curled into a cold smile. “They’re dead, I can no longer feel them. Besides, I doubt they can survive in the uplands for that long, they’ve never been to the surface.”

The subordinate hesitated. “Your Majesty… there’s something else. The seers said the magic we felt the other day is royal magic. It’s faint but unmistakable.”

Selvya’s eyes narrowed, and a dangerous gleam appeared in her gaze. “So, the little heir has awakened,” she murmured, her voice laced with venom. “Good. Let her come. I’ll make sure she meets the same fate as her mother.”

She rose from her throne, her movements slow and deliberate. The determination in her eyes burned brighter than the fire in the hearth. Selvya was ready. The game had begun, and she would not lose