𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃 | 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈. 𝐀 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜

𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 cracked open, a groggy feeling flooded her mind. She groaned as she slowly sat up, trying to forget that her veins still felt as if they were on fire, even if the feeling had diminished compared to beforehand.

Althea jumped to her side. "Are you alright, mon ange?"

Celine flinched, but took a breath to regain her composition. "How long was I out?"

"Maybe half an hour," Althea suggested. "You began to stir once the hunting party reached the end of the forest."

"How could you possibly know that?" Celine asked, twisting her brow in confusion.

Althea hesitantly gestured to a puddle on the wooden floor of the wagon, formed by her own tears. Rather than showing their own reflection, the water revealed the location of the mob.

"So it's all true then?" Celine asked, her hopes falling. "Everything?"

"We should talk," Althea recommended, moving closer to her daughter's side.

Celine shook her head and scooted backward.

"Mon ange..."

Celine held up a hand. "I need time."

She ran her fingers through her hair, closed her eyes, and took another deep breath before opening them once more. Her gaze drifted to the glowing veins that ran up her arm, across the left side of her face, and back toward her chest.

"I know about the curse," Celine said as she slowly turned back toward her mother. "I know about papa too. I know you're a witch—or an enchantress, whatever the difference is. I know that you cursed a child and I know I was caught up in the effects..."

Althea was quiet before she lifted her eyes from the wooden ground. "You have to know I would never hurt you, mon ange."

Celine gently nodded her head, but extended her arms that she'd previously had wrapped around herself. "But you did: the curse, the secrets, and the way you've tried to control my life."

Althea winced at the reminder of the love potion on top of her other mistakes. "I've always tried to look out for you, mon ange. This world... it's full of darkness that would try to snuff out your light."

"Did you ever think to ask me how I felt about it?" Celine asked, abruptly interrupting before her mother could continue. "Did you think I had no right to know anything about who I was or where I came from before you tried to mold me into one of these bland villagers?"

"You want to know everything?" Althea's tone changed. "Then let's start at the beginning. Yes, I'm an enchantress, an individual blessed with magic by Mother Nature to preserve her world. Humanity, whether they intend to or not, is destructive and kills anything they touch. Raoul, your father, was one of these creatures, but I saw something different in him. He'd been sent to lead the crusades against our kind, but he did not have the same list for death in his eyes. You were born as a product of this love..."

"I know all of this," Celine admitted.

"True," Althea nodded her head in agreement. "But by the way you hold yourself, I know that you fail to understand the full implications of what I've told you. As our child, you inherited something from each of us: your father's kind heart and Mother Nature's blessing."

Celine's blood ran cold as she glanced down toward her glowing veins. "So..."

"You're an enchantress, Celine," Althea clarified. "Your magic has just been repressed, hidden from you for your own safety."

"What do you mean?"

"When I cast the curse," Althea slowly confessed, pain filling her gaze as she looked over Celine's veins, "you walked into the room. Now curses are different from most magic as they rely on the darkness—something that opposes Mother Nature, but desperate times call for desperate measures... But, a curse like the one I cast has consequences."

"What sort of consequences?" Celine asked, subconsciously moving closer.

"They require a sacrifice," Althea explained, "One that I had intended to pay myself. But fate is cruel. The backend of the curse fell on you when you entered the room, mon ange."

Celine's heart began to thud against her ribcage. "So I'm cursed too."

Althea nodded her head. "Should you ever return to the castle, the magic you within will kill you."

"So the beast was right?" Celine muttered under her breath, slowly connecting the dots. "He... he doesn't hate me. He pushed me away for my own protection."

"Celine?"

"I have to go back," Celine spoke up, rising to her feet as she approached the wagon door. "I have to warn him!"

Althea quickly moved to her daughter's side and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Mon ange..."

"I made a promise—"

"You don't understand," Althea interrupted. "Should you return to the palace grounds, you will die. I will not allow it."

"It's not your decision to make, Maman," Celine protested.

"Even if you could make it in time, you couldn't really save him," Althea contradicted. "The curse becomes permanent tonight—a curse that can only be broken by love."

"He's learned to love," Celine snapped.

"You don't know that." Althea shook her head.

"I do," Celine insisted. "He understands me in ways that no one else could. He's saved my life on more than one occasion—even though it would mean his own doom, he pushed me away to save my life."

Shock rested on Althea's face. Her voice was quiet. "You love him."

Celine slowly nodded her head, no longer fighting herself. "And he loves me."

"You're willing to give up your life just to save his?" Althea asked.

Celine didn't hesitate. "He would do the same for me."

"No." Althea shook her head. "No, mon ange. Please, think this through... I could—I could help you forget him. We'll go to Paris, travel the world like you always wanted. Just say with me, mon ange."

"Help me forget..." Another realization dawned. "You made me forget papa... You made me forget the first ten years of my life..."

"Mon ange—" Althea reached out to her daughter, but Celine stepped back, shaking her head.

A mixture of anger and despair twisted the girl's features. As the building of her repressed feelings grew, her veins glowed brighter. It was excruciating, but she was numb to the feeling. Her eyes hardened and she turned away from her mother, just in time to direct her outburst toward the locked door. As a blast of green magic shot out from her chest, the door was thrown from its hinges.

Celine fell back, down onto her knees, but didn't give herself time to feel the oncoming fatigue. She was running on pure adrenaline as she rose to her feet and stepped down from the wagon. Green ribbons of magic circled her wrists as if her veins were leaking. The girl ignored her mother's protests as she mounted Phillipe and rode back toward the castle. For the first time in her life, she was pulling the strings of her own fate.