Dark Enchantment

10

Asher

The moon was high in the sky as I grabbed Elara by the arm, dragging her backward through the darkened graveyard.

“You’re not getting away from this, Elara,” I spat, my grip tight as I pulled her toward the chapel. Once inside, I slung her onto the blood-stained star pentagram that had long ago been carved into the floor, the sigils glowing faintly in response to her presence.

“You think you can just walk away?” I whispered, my voice low and dangerous as I ignited a fire around her with a click of my fingers, the flames dancing hungrily, keeping her trapped. She scrambled toward the center, but it was too late; the flames roared to life, their heat wrapping around her like a serpent.

I knelt beside the flames, flicking a silver coin between my fingers, a nervous habit I couldn’t shake. “You’re not leaving this chapel unless you’re dead or you complete a sacrifice,” I declared, my tone dark and unwavering. But she just glared at me, defiance etched into her features as if she could will me into submission.

“Damn it, Elara! This is not a game!” I shouted. But she remained silent, her eyes fixed on the flames, ignoring my words as if they were nothing more than the wind.

Just then, I heard my brother Andre’s voice cutting through the tension. “Asher, come here.” I turned to see him leaning against the chapel wall, a contemplative look on his face. “I think I have an idea.”

“What?” I snapped, irritation flaring.

“If we had someone to use as leverage, it might push her to make the choice. Make her choose who to sacrifice,” he suggested.

I opened my mouth to protest; there was no one to leverage, no one that mattered to her. But then an idea struck me like lightning. “Wait,” I said, my mind racing. “There is someone. But it will take all of us, a collective power.”

I turned to the rest of the brotherhood, urgency coursing through me. “Get ready for a temporary resurrection spell. I’ll be back.”

Without another word, I stormed out of the chapel, my heart pounding with adrenaline as I drove back to Elara’s dorm room. I had to find a picture of her dead mother—something that would strike at the heart of her resistance.

-

Once I arrived, I rifled through her draws, searching for anything that could tether her. When I finally found it, a worn photograph tucked away in a dusty corner, I felt a rush of satisfaction. This would be the key to breaking her. I could feel the magic swirling in the air, ready to be unleashed, and I was determined to make her face it. Elara would have no choice but to embrace the darkness, or I would ensure she’d never leave the chapel alive.

With the picture tucked securely in my pocket, I left Elara’s room, and took a walk back to my own room, locking the door behind me.

“Anima in tenebris, levate vis, ignis in ferro, puritatem in sanguine.” I whispered, allowing the cloaking spell that had hidden my athame collection to lift like a veil.

Tonight’s sacrifice would be unlike any other. It had to be special; it had to be memorable for Elara. I envisioned her holding her own blade, a pristine weapon untouched by the sins of my past.

But just as I began to prepare, a sound shattered my concentration. The doorknob turned, and I spun around, heart pounding. My roommate stood there, eyes wide with shock, having entered without my awareness. Panic surged through me. He couldn’t leave with what he had seen, it would have been the end before we’d begun.

In one swift motion, I grabbed another blade from the collection, the cold metal glinting in the dim light. I hurled it with all my strength, and it struck him squarely in the chest. His eyes widened in disbelief as he staggered back, and I was on him in an instant, hovering over his crumpling form.

I pressed my hand over his mouth, and yanked the blade free, blood blooming like a dark flower on his shirt, and in the same fluid motion, I sliced his throat, silencing him forever. As the life drained from him, I felt a surge of triumph. This was a ritual that demanded precision, and I would not let anything— or anyone— disrupt my plans. Elara would have her blade. She would remember this night, and it would be etched into her mind like this crimson stain on my hands.

Elara

The heat was suffocating, each second feeling like an eternity as flames licked at my skin. It was as if the fire itself was alive, hungry, and I could feel it creeping closer. Just then, Asher appeared, his smile wide and unsettling. Where had he been?

I strained against my bindings, desperate to see what was happening at the altar, but Leon stepped in front of me, blocking my view with an almost predatory gaze. “Don’t fret, little witch,” he said, his tone smooth but creepy. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Then, a scream pierced the air. My heart raced, pounding loudly in my ears as worry settled in my stomach. Was it Millie? Had she woken up? Asher had dismissed her so easily, and though I’d never cared much for her, the thought of her in danger gnawed at me. She was someone’s something, after all—someone who might care.

The flames began to die down, and as they did I was yanked forwards, pulled toward the stone table where I had once been helplessly strapped down. But this time, I wasn’t the one bound.

There was Millie, not looking so much like a barbie as dirt covered her flawless skin, her eyes wide with terror, strapped down and gagged just as I had been. And beside her, my breath caught in my throat as reality crashed over me like a wave: my mother, the woman I had mourned for years, was alive and bound beside her.

“No… this can’t be happening,” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper as a whirlwind of emotions threatened to consume me. Confusion and disbelief tangled with a deep-seated rage. I had thought she was gone forever, lost to the depression that had taken her from me. But here she was, in front of me.

What had Asher and the brotherhood done?

I was trapped in a nightmare, caught in a web of their making, and now I had to face the consequences.