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Merle was going on a trip for the first time with Nemredith, The Resident Witch of Wynestria, who she worked for. And it was to La casa oscura.

The house blew their humble abode at Wynestria, The Black Hut, out of the waters. The Hut would have paled in comparison to the grand structure that stood before them.

Merle could only gape at the larger-than-life doors and windows. The fountains spouted waters of gold and the trees shimmered in the blinding sunlight.

Whatever had possessed Nemredith to bring Merle along, Merle would forever be grateful for it.

Even though she was going to be stuck cleaning after Nemredith and floating in her shadows, Merle wouldn't trade this experience for anything.

Despite her excitement, Merle had a thought nagging her at the back of her mind.

It had been weeks since she'd been at The Court of Silvers with the angel Kafziel and the demon Clisthert.

They still didn't have a plan to approach the Witch, Xiomara. But Merle took some comfort because Xiomara was Spanish and now she was in a Pocket Realm in Spain. Which was also where the event they had come for was.

If this event was for witches, she was bound to meet Xiomara.

As they got down from their horses, a valet came to tend to it, while another came for their very light luggage. Nemredith didn't want to stay for the entire event.

"Two days will do just fine," Nemredith had said.

They had walked up to the grand doors, where a large witch stood. Merle assumed she was a witch from her clothes.

The woman was dressed in a fitted purple gown of silk material and it must have been enchanted to glow in the sun. She had around her a shawl of white fur and her slender fingers had black laces over them.

When they reached her, the woman smiled at them. It was one that entranced Merle at once and she found herself smiling back.

"Welcome. I am so glad you could make it for the event, Nemredith. And you must be Merle of Thorne."

Merle's eyes widened, but the shock hadn't ended there for her as The Witch introduced herself.

"I am Xiomara Guerrera Bardales and welcome to La casa oscura. My house, but also a house for all witches."

"Always one for a grand introduction, aren't you?" Nemredith said bitterly, yet Xiomara only smiled.

"Come now. I believe Nemredith would want to rest. Merle here, however, would love to take a tour, right?" Xiomara indirectly asked and Merle found herself nodding, but before she could answer, Nemredith spoke.

"No, she wouldn't. She is in my service and I say she shall not."

It was the most Nemredith had said at once, and Merle's smile dropped at once.

They left Xiomara at the door, and on their way to their chambers, Nemredith spoke. "Do not trust Xiomara. Even Witches know better than to trust her."

Merle was trying to understand if Nemredith had just warned her and why. She'd thought about it until they arrived at their chambers, but the door burst open before they could enter.

Out came some men dressed in uniform, and she assumed them to be guards. In the next moment, they seized Nemredith by her arms and took her away as she yelled and shrieked in protest.

Merle stood shell-shocked and alone in the hallway before an icy hand rested on her shoulder. She knew who it was before she turned.

"I know why you're here, Merle. Why you're really here. But it doesn't have to be that way. For how long, Merle? For how long will you continue to slave and toil for humans who care nothing about you? They despise you, and they mock you.

"They laugh at you despite everything you do. And Nemredith, you have been in her service for more than a century, and what does she give you, scraps of human energy and one day in a year for yourself?"

Merle's eyes widened. How did Xiomara know this?

"I've known you for a while now, Merle, and together we can get what we want. Humans have tortured us, chased us out of our lands, and we have stayed hidden. Suffering. But never again!

"Now we must reclaim what is ours, what is rightfully ours. The humans have had their time in the sun; now it's our time. Join me, Merle of Thorne, and together we will restore our people back to their rightful place in the whole of Dhilavir." Xiomara finished and stretched out a hand.

"Wouldn't you like to see your kind again, to be a Fae again?"

Merle took a look at The Witch's exposed palm that was covered in black laces that blended into her skin.

Years of torture, years of struggle, years of prejudice. Discrimination from all kinds of humans, sailors, privateers and commoners.

All humans were the same; they were vile creatures who had robbed her of the ability to live and develop with her kind and made fun of her for not being one of them.

Never again.

Merle glanced at her own palm. The angel and the demon expected much from her. The Court of Silvers expected much from her, but what did she want to do? What did she really want to do?

In the next moment, the two palms met and Xiomara's lips spread into an enchanting smile.

"This is the best choice you can make. Welcome, Merle of Thorne, to the darker half of the year."

How did the saying go again?

To err is human, to forgive is divine, and to reclaim is supernatural.

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