WITCHES OF WOLF CREEK: TRUTH

WITCHES OF WOLF CREEK: BLOOD

1. Levenach



It was a day in March, at dusk. The cherry trees were in bloom, the birds were singing, the intoxicating scents rose from the forest and the magic of spring colours filled my eyes with admiration. I was holding Neeve’s hand. We weren’t talking. For a long time already, we no longer needed words to understand each other.

As we lingered on the path that led us to her house, I remembered our meeting.

It was in my first year at the Wiccard Academy. We weren’t six years old. I have always had a touchy and lonely character. In the courtyard, I often remained alone, intimidated, until the day when a red-haired child with hazel eyes approached me, flanked by her two best friends. Sixine and Elinor stood a little behind, while the prettiest girl I had ever seen introduced herself.

"I’m Neeve," she said in a thin voice that immediately enchanted me. "Do you have any Magic Mallows?"

I shrugged my shoulders without replying. She intimidated me, and her friends watched me carefully, waiting for my response. I then lowered my head for fear that they would realize that I was disappointed not to have the sweets they so desired.

"Come on, Neeve," the white-haired girl had told her, "we’ll pick some up at old Barns’."

"Would you like to come with us to the shop?" Neeve asked me without looking away.

I looked up, my cheeks burning. It was the first time that my presence was requested anywhere.

I lived with my parents on the outskirts of Wolf Creek. I had never been to school before Wiccard and had been home-schooled. Isolated, in my world, I have never had any friends. And when I tried, the contempt I inspired in others was hard to accept.

And that day, as if what she was asking of me was quite natural, this kid named Neeve was interested in me. It was so unexpected it took my breath away.

"What’s your name?" inquired her friend with black hair, adorned with blue highlights.

"Levenach," I replied timidly.

Neeve’s eyes widened. At that moment, I hadn’t understood that even though I didn’t have Magic Mallows, even though I was just a pale and skinny kid, this girl saw in me someone fascinating. But it was only much later that she admitted it to me.

We were fifteen when we first kissed. It was behind the Wiccard arts building. A furtive and awkward kiss. Since our meeting, I had thought only of her, every day, and finally having her in my arms had made me tremble to the point of having trouble breathing.

Neeve never got tired of hugging me, kissing me. We were so well… in harmony. Happy and in love.

Then… there was that day. Or rather, that evening, and everything changed.

It was the year of our twenties and the ascension ritual of sorcerers that marked the end of our studies. During this very special moment, our powers are taken away from us, to allow us to be better reborn.

One day.

And my heart broke forever.

We were walking in the forest, late, after dusk. We hadn’t heard them arrive. After all, we weren’t used to being wary of humans. Normally, it was so easy to subdue them with a simple spell. We had planned to come home early, in case there were any vampires around. The wolves didn’t roam around here, and they only turned out to be really dangerous at full moon, so...

Carefree, we hadn’t thought of the most basic of creatures.

They were five.

When two of them fell on me, I recited a spell automatically, forgetting that I no longer had my powers.

Then the other three tackled Neeve.

They grabbed her by the hair. Seeing her hair soiled by those morons made me scream with rage. I took a fist in the face and fell to the ground, my arms still restrained by the two iron-fisted boys, while one of these pigs slapped Neeve hard. I received some kicks in the stomach. My ribs broke. The pain in my stomach made me vomit.

"Well, what’s wrong with you, beautiful?" called out a woman I hadn’t seen before.

"Let me go!" Neeve shouted at one of her attackers.

He swept her leg and she collapsed, her head slamming into a stone. Blood streamed down her pretty face. And I remained pale, unable to act. I struggled, but nothing helped. I was too weak… It was that evening that I understood this.

Recognizing this fragility still haunts me. Not being able to do anything, and feeling helpless before the suffering of those I love is my greatest torment. It’s unbearable. Because I loved her. I loved her so much.

My body was shaking as one of our attackers grabbed Neeve’s hair to lift her head.

"Levenach, help me," she pleaded.

And I struggled again and again, and I could do nothing, pitiful, miserable, a sorcerer without powers.

My hatred was so devastating that I felt like I was on fire. Then Neeve’s gaze shifted to me. Tears flooded her face. I screamed like a madman, my lungs bursting. And I was struck again with feet and fists before I managed to crawl up to my beloved.

"Levenach, run!"

These are the words she spoke to me before I was knocked unconscious. I passed out for a few minutes and when I looked up, it was the woman who saved us from the worst.

"We don’t have to do this!" she spat at her troops. "Take their money and we’re off!"

They stole our money and left us there, in the middle of the forest, wounded and humiliated. I reached for Neeve’s hand. It was close, but she was in too much pain to lift it to me. She could only reach out her fingers, moaning in pain. My head was heavy, but I found the strength to hold her hand in mine.

We didn’t speak.

We never needed it.

We probably should have…because this silence…

This silence...

It is this which broke us.