╔════════════╗
My vision...
Life continues whether we want it or not,
She continues to flow like a torrent.
Be ready to navigate murky waters,
Because she will carry you away
╚═════════════╝

The light of the crescent moon fades softly over the forest. The air caresses my cheek, stripped of its usual essence. The magical vibrations it once carried are gone.

Alone at the entrance of a subterranean refuge, I felt lost in this unfamiliar forest. The sturdy roots anchoring the ground growled and trembled around me, reshaping the path ahead of me where the galleries had been just minutes ago. A tree, seemingly unbothered, stood sentinel at the entrance, lingering at the edge as if guarding some ancient secret. The surrounding area felt distinctly different from any place I'd encountered in the past few days.

My head spins with too many thoughts. This place feels unlike any of the others I've passed through in recent days. Here, the bare trees and tall conifers stand in eerie silence. It's unsettling, a stark contrast to the constant rustle of the forest I grew up with. Each tree back home had its own behavior, its own voice. I knew them all, having befriended them as the only child in the area. They rarely spoke to magicians, not even the powerful ones. I was fortunate to have such wise and willing companions.

Here, in this distant land, the trees stand unnaturally still, as if some ancient magic had long since washed their souls clean. I can't help but wonder : who wields such power, and why would they use it this way? Every witch needs nature to restore her strength. Where I come from, we nurture the land. But here... how do witches survive?"

A tightness coils in my chest. My eyes sting. Once, it was an unfamiliar sensation until we left the Wolf Realm. Back then, I rarely cried. But now... now I understand the word that's settled in my bones these past few days: anxiety. This journey has worn me thin, and being surrounded by others carrying the same fear has only made it worse.

Worse still, my dad had gone a different way a while back. Being hunted by fully trained men with skilled trackers was bad enough, but trying to run while protecting younger kids was even harder. I had to stay behind with another group. The woman, who my dad told me to call my mother, was the leader. She said I had to stay here and hide with the others. She had to go back to look for him.

Dad and I... we always felt like we were living on two sides of a line. He was always coming or going, like a shadow slipping past the edge of my life. I'd only see him once in a while, a few times a year if I was lucky. He always said his duty came first. I used to nod like I understood. But all I really knew was that he never stayed.

Still, I waited. I always waited. Even when the days got long and quiet, even when no one said his name, I kept a part of myself ready, longing, wishing he would come back. Because when he was there, everything felt different. Softer. Like I mattered. He was the only one who looked at me like I wasn't just a soldier or a mistake. He saw me. And in a place where I had to be strong all the time, that meant everything.

Back there, I was surrounded by soldiers: tough ones, cold ones. They never smiled, never asked if I was okay. To them, I was a warrior in the making, not a child. There was no softness. No comfort. No space for feelings. Just orders. Just silence. Just duty.

The truth was, I missed my dad. I missed him more than I could say. And I wanted a mother. THE mother he once told me about. The one from his stories, the one he showed me in a small, worn photo. She had kind eyes and a warm smile. But the woman he told me to call "Mother" wasn't like that. Not when he wasn't around. She was sharp, quiet, always thinking ten steps ahead. Cold, like winter stone. Not at all what he'd promised.
Where was he now?

Dad... where are you?
I whispered it in my mind, over and over.

While the other children cried, I stayed still. I didn't let my emotions take over. I wasn't supposed to. That's what they taught me.

But still, the tears came.
They burned at the corners of my eyes, and shame sank my shoulders.
So weak. So frail.
I hated feeling this way.

I stepped away from the others, into the moonlight, trying to breathe.
I wouldn't let this ruin me. I wouldn't let it touch my magic.
Ridiculous, I scolded myself. Enough.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed my cloak. I tried to run, but strong arms lifted me clean off the ground. I gasped, ready to speak an incantation, but a hand clamped over my mouth before I could even whisper the first word.

How dare he? Such disrespect! This men had no idea how to treat someone of my rank. Just foolish, clueless guard. If only Grandpa knew! He'd be running like frightened sheep. And if fate really wanted justice, Uncle Davon would make sure their heads rolled right to my feet.
My heart pounded wildly in my chest.

"Shh," someone whispered in my ear. "Your mother will be here soon. She told you to stay hidden. Why are you out here?"

His voice was low and stern as he set me down and guided me back toward the others.

I catch a glimpse of his eyes. His pupils are wide, edged with a glowing red crescent. His wolf is close to the surface, restless, ready to emerge at the first sign of threat.

A wolf, trembling like a sheep. I almost laugh.

A true warrior would never let his eyes give him away. What was so terrifying about this journey, anyway?

Aside from the plunge down the waterfall in those sealed barrels... yeah, okay, that was a little dramatic. But since then? Nothing. Not a single real adventure.

A sudden movement ahead startles me, and I instinctively slap at his arms, trying to break free. Figures are crawling out of the hole... men and women, they are moving backward on all fours, their limbs bending in unnatural ways. Their cackling grows louder with each step, and the ground shakes beneath us, pulsing with the rhythm of their chants.

Among them, I see her: my mother.
The tree roots stir, reaching out to one another like fingers, weaving across the forest floor. They twist and stretch closing the space beneath.

The forest falls still. The adults are collapsing where they are, drained and trembling. I watch them, sprawled on the ground, chests heaving. How could they recover in a place like this, where the land holds no magic? Still the enchantment isn't done. Some are still singing the melody.

The children, who had been hiding until then, suddenly ran to the man's legs, trembling with fear. I stepped back a few paces, feeling cornered by the chaos. The adults, they weren't to be disturbed. I knew that well. Their magic had to be kept carefully contained, or it could spill out and hurt even their own.

The others didn't seem to know that. But the one meant to keep us safe. He stopped them from getting too close.
Only one other child stayed still. A boy.
Our eyes met, and something in his quiet stare made my heart slow. He wasn't panicking. He wasn't afraid. Just watching like me.

But then the ground cracked beneath us again, a deeper song rising from the earth, and I turned away from him. From a distance, I scanned the shifting bodies, the strange ritual still unraveling. And there, among them I saw her. The woman I was told to call Mother.

Finally, the entrance was gone. It was swallowed by earth and silence.

The adults rushed toward their children, arms open, voices cracking. My mother's hood slipped from her head, and for the first time, I saw her face clearly. There were no commands on her lips only grief. She ran to me and buried her tear-streaked face against my chest.

Kneeling in the dirt, she wept, her warm tears soaking through my clothes. I froze, my muscles stiff and unwilling. Slowly, I peeled myself out of her grasp. The feeling wasn't mutual. I had only just met her hours ago and followed her because my father told me to. Nothing more.

She let me go hesitantly, as if breaking from a dream. She covered her face with both hands, sinking to the ground. Her sobs were quiet now, muffled in her palms.
Dazed, I looked around. The forest spun gently in my vision, but my eyes never landed on the one I needed. The one I was waiting for.

"Why are you crying?" I asked, my voice thin. "Where is Papa? Where are we? How will he come back now? "

I repeat the questions over and over, like a broken record, but the words feel distant, slipping from my grasp. Consciousness tugs at me, calling me back, but the images around me fade, dissolving into shadow. I can't let it slip. This dream... it's the same one I've had before, but something's different this time.

I can feel it! The pull of my younger self, lingering just beneath the surface, reaching out. That younger me is desperate to show me something. Something important. Something I've forgotten, but I need to remember. It's there, just out of reach, like a whisper I can't quite catch.

I struggle to hold on, to bring it into the light. It's as if I've known this truth for so long, yet now it's slipping away, like sand through my fingers.

I let out a sigh of defeat, my chest heavy. My diary was filled with countless entries about that dream and the slight differences in between, each one more elusive than the last. Had I really made those changes myself? Or had something else been shifting? Too many things about those dreams seemed impossible. The more I tried to make sense of them, the more they twisted in ways I couldn't explain.

Suddenly, the sound of the coffee machine echoes in the hallway. I rub my eyes. My heart races with anticipation as I hurriedly walk to see my mother. "Mom!"

Last time we crossed paths was a week or so ago. She has been quite busy, her eyes have dark circles and she has dropped a dew pounds. Yet, she hasn't slowed down.

My eyes are still adjusting to being open for the day, and I stumble against the wall. I rub them with one hand to steady myself and search for the ramp with the other, my vision is blurry. On the top step, I finally see her. Her body is thinner than before and despite her beautiful long brown hair covering her frame, she looks frail.

Our eyes lock. My heart skips a beat. It has been a while since I have seen her look at me in such a way.  I have missed her.

I rush down the remaining stairs, hoping to catch her and hold her for a few minutes, but she is quick to move away. A heaviness settles in my heart making my shoulders heavy.

Her hand gently caresses my hair. My heart flutters with joy but soon her touch fades. A kaleidoscope of emotions tint my eyes and face, but before I can muster a word out, she was already gone.

Things gad been changing. She has been away more often than not. Even though I had had more asthma crises, she hasn't been spending more time around. Somehow, the more I have needs, the less she is around. Finally whenever she is around, the only thing glinting in her eyes is ressentiment.

Did she resent me for being frail? Or perhaps she did only because I was putting a string on her budget. Still, I was doing my best caring for my siblings while she was away.

The alarm on my watch jolts me out of my dark thoughts. I sigh.

it's time to get going. I walk up the stairs, slapping my face to relax my muscles. I smile as I enter my mother's room, where Julie is still fast asleep.

Today I get to play Mom again.

I pull the blinds aside and look at the green leaves on the tree in front of me. Today is the last day of school and life as I know it, since I won't be attending college next year.

I lie down and crumple the sheets on Mom's side of the bed. I don't regret my decision. I can always pick up where I left off later. I take a deep breath and run my hand through my little sister's hair. Someone has to look after her after all.

"Wake up, beautiful," I say to Julie. She looks so much like Mom, except for the curls.

Like me, she inherited them from Dad. I smile and kiss her forehead before tickling her.

——
Mom
——

Today is a sad day. I've already said goodbye to the younger ones while they slept, but I wanted to see her eyes one last time. Neither gray nor blue, the colors would change depending on the emotions she felt. I could lose myself in those eyes, they reminded me of their father and the life that was taken from us. The button machine pressed. All I could do was wait.

My heart grows unbearably heavy with a cruel, flickering hope as I hear her fragile steps echo toward me. Each one is a soft and unaware wound. Little does she know this is goodbye. My throat constricts, strangled by the weight of words I cannot bear to speak. The audacity of life. It gave me back what I lost only to tear it away again, not by fate, but by my own hand. I mourned her for years, a hollow ache in every moment. I dreamed of reunion, clung to the idea of one last embrace.

Would we ever have our happy ever after ending? It felt more distant now than ever before. It was but a dream slipping through the cracks of time. She could still find hers, perhaps, a life full of warmth and light. But I would never be part of it. That was the truth I carried like a stone in my chest. The cruelty isn't in the loss itself, but in the choosing. In knowing that I walked away. That I had to. For her own good.

I shake my head and see her hurrying down the stairs.

I take a sip of coffee, taking the cup with me as a token of this day. I brush her hair one last time and leave her for good. It's about time.

Julie and Luc will grow up well with Annie around. She's a good girl. They will be fine.

I turn without a word and leave the apartment, clutching the cup, hiding the emotions she can't see, hoping to keep up the pretense.

At the top of the outside stairs, my eyes catch the driver, tense and fully alert, his posture rigid as he waits for me. The team is already in place, a quiet swarm of shadows surrounding the split-level apartment, their presence a reminder of the stakes at hand. Without a word, I make a swift gesture. One that says everything, that I'm still in control, still calling the shots. Then I turn, urgency rising, and hurry toward the car, my fingers shaking just enough to spill the rest of the coffee, its dark contents staining the grass beneath me.

The driver opens the door and bows.

"Madam."

I nod and get into the car, noticing the hairs on his hand bristle as I pass him.

I take one last look at the building through the window and wave to the driver through the magic-proof glass, noticing his shoulders relax a little as we pull away.

Note:

Please note that this book contains no sex.

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