Chereads / The Darkness and light / Chapter 21 - witch of calamity 1

Chapter 21 - witch of calamity 1

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In the dark forest

In the dark forest, Malice glared at the glowing runes etched into the stone walls, frustration boiling inside her. She had studied them for months, extracting every possible scrap of knowledge, but now they were nothing more than useless symbols. No matter how hard she focused, she couldn't break through the barrier that separated her from her goal.

"Curse this wretched place!" she spat, kicking the wall. She was on the brink of becoming an Archmage—the highest rank of magic user in the entire Syria continent. But she couldn't advance. The runes held her back, taunting her with secrets she could not comprehend.

After letting out her rage She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes as exhaustion overwhelmed her. As she began to faint, memories surfaced in her mind that she had long forgotten

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The sun was setting over the quiet village, casting long shadows on the narrow dirt paths and wooden houses. A cool breeze rustled the leaves, and smoke rose lazily from the chimneys, filling the air with the scent of cooking fires. It was the end of another long day, and families were starting to gather inside their small homes, seeking warmth and comfort.

In a tiny, run-down cottage at the edge of the village, a young girl named Trissy sat by the window. Her face was thin, her cheeks pale, and her clothes were worn, but her eyes were bright with a child's innocent curiosity. She couldn't have been more than seven, her tangled hair falling around her shoulders as she stared out at the fading sunlight.

Trissy's parents were in the next room, their voices low and tense. She had heard them whispering more often lately, but she didn't understand why. The food had become scarce, and they seemed angrier and more tired each day. They spoke in hushed tones when they thought she wasn't listening, but she could feel the worry hanging in the air like a heavy cloud.

"Trissy, come here," her mother's voice called out, strained and shaky.

Trissy climbed down from the windowsill, her small feet padding softly across the creaky wooden floor. She peeked into the kitchen and saw her parents standing by the table. Her father's face was hard, his jaw clenched tight, while her mother looked... sad. There was something in her eyes that made Trissy's stomach twist with worry.

"Sit down, sweetheart," her mother said, forcing a smile that didn't look right.

Trissy sat on the worn wooden stool, fidgeting with the edge of her dress. She waited, her gaze shifting between her parents. They looked different—tired, nervous, as if they were holding back something important.

Her father cleared his throat, his hand gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. "We've made a decision," he said, his voice rough.

"A decision?" Trissy asked, confused. "About what?"

Her mother knelt down in front of her, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch Trissy's face. Her fingers brushed against Trissy's cheek, but then she pulled back, her eyes filling with tears. "We... we're going on a trip," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Trissy's face lit up a little. "A trip? Where are we going?"

Her father's face tightened, his expression cold. "It's not far," he said, not meeting her eyes. "But you have to listen and do exactly what we say. Do you understand?"

Trissy nodded, her excitement mixed with a strange feeling of unease. Her parents had never taken her on a trip before. Life in the village had been all she knew—a life of hard days, little food, and her parents' quiet, growing frustration.

Her mother's voice wavered as she continued, "It's time for something... new. Just get ready, alright? We're leaving tonight."

Trissy didn't understand why they had to leave so suddenly, but she trusted her parents. She went to her small bedroom and packed the few belongings she had—an old dress, a small blanket, and a tiny wooden doll her mother had carved for her when she was younger.

The doll's face was faded and worn from years of play, but it was her only toy.

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They left the village under the cover of darkness, walking in silence along the narrow dirt paths that wound through the forest. The trees loomed tall and dark around them, and the night air was cool and crisp.

Trissy's father led the way, his footsteps heavy, while her mother held Trissy's hand tightly. The grip was almost too firm, as if she was afraid to let go.

"Why are we leaving at night?" Trissy asked, her voice breaking the heavy silence.

Her father didn't answer, his eyes fixed straight ahead. Her mother squeezed her hand a little tighter, her gaze darting around nervously. "It's just... easier this way," she said quickly. "Keep close, alright?"

Trissy's excitement began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of unease. The forest was dark and unfamiliar, and her parents' strange behavior was starting to scare her. But she followed them, trusting that they knew what was best.

After what felt like hours of walking, they reached a small clearing at the edge of the forest. In the shadows, Trissy saw a group of strangers waiting—men with hard, unkind faces, dressed in rough clothing. They had horses and carts, their figures barely visible in the dim moonlight.

"Who are they?" Trissy whispered, her heart starting to race.

Her mother's face crumpled, and she turned away, unable to meet Trissy's gaze. Her father's grip on her arm tightened, pulling her closer to the strangers. "They're here to help us," he said, his voice cold and flat.

One of the men stepped forward, his face hidden in shadow. He looked down at Trissy with a sneer, and she shrank back instinctively, pressing against her father's side. "Is this the girl?" the man asked, his voice rough.

"Yes," her father said, his jaw clenched. "She's the one."

Trissy's eyes widened in confusion and fear. "What... what's happening? Who are they?"

Her father didn't answer. He pushed her forward, shoving her roughly into the arms of the stranger. Trissy's small hands reached out desperately, trying to cling to her father's sleeve, but he pulled away, his face hard and unforgiving.

"No!" Trissy screamed, her voice breaking. "I don't want to go! Please, don't make me go!"

Her mother's sobs filled the silence, but she didn't move to help. She just stood there, her shoulders shaking, her face hidden in her hands. Trissy's father turned away, his back rigid and unyielding.

"Quiet, girl," the man holding her snapped . He pulled out a gag, tying it roughly around her mouth, silencing her cries. Trissy's eyes filled with tears, her heart pounding as she struggled to breathe against the thick cloth.

She looked back desperately, hoping for one last glance from her parents, one last word to assure her this was all a bad dream. But they didn't look back. They didn't say a word.

The stranger dragged her toward the cart, ignoring her muffled cries. Her feet stumbled over the uneven ground, her small body no match for his rough strength. Without a word, he lifted her and tossed her into the back of the cart, her body landing hard on the cold, splintered wood.

Trissy's vision blurred with tears as the cart door slammed shut, trapping her inside. She was surrounded by other children, their faces pale and haunted, eyes hollow with the same fear that now gripped her heart.

The cart jolted forward, the wheels creaking as it began to move, taking her farther and farther from the only home she had ever known.

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