Nyla sat cross-legged on the floor of her candle-lit room, her fingers dancing in the air as she chanted an old tongue. Ancient scrolls surrounded her, their ink still breathing with the essence of forgotten magic. The room trembled slightly—not from the power she summoned, but from the closeness of something watching her. Something that hadn't blinked in centuries.
A knock at the door interrupted the incantation.
She stood slowly and opened it.
Amara stood there, the box in her arms, eyes locked and unreadable.
Elara was just behind her.
"I brought it," Amara said softly.
Nyla didn't speak. She just stepped aside.
Inside, the three of them gathered around a low wooden table. Amara placed the box down and opened it slowly. The Witch's Grimoire hissed like a living thing. The air thickened immediately, pressing against their lungs like wet cloth.
Nyla stared at the book, then at Amara. "You were wise not to burn it. Fools destroy things they don't understand. But you…" She reached forward and touched the book. "You want to understand."
"I need to," Amara whispered. "I need to know everything. About her. About me. About that child."
Nyla opened the book.
The pages turned themselves, flipping with a mind of their own until they stopped at one entry: a detailed sketch of a girl, naked under a full moon, hands held out in offering to a dark figure with a jackal's grin.
Amara's face.
Below it, in blood-inked script: Madam Amara. First Bargain: Fertility. Exchange: Five Years of Memory and Obedience.
Elara inhaled sharply.
"You gave up… your memories?" she asked.
Amara nodded. "I forgot who I was. Why I'd come to the school. Why I ever made that deal. I just woke up one morning, not knowing I had changed."
Nyla's hand hovered over the page. "The child wasn't yours. It was hers. A vessel. A key."
"A key for what?"
"The gate," Nyla replied, voice tight. "Between this world and the Witch's own. A child born at midnight, beneath a blood moon, conceived by magic and bound by desire—it would open the veil."
Amara's eyes filled with tears. "But I never gave birth."
Nyla looked at her carefully. "You will. That magic is still inside you. Dormant. Waiting."
Elara touched her arm. "We'll stop it. We'll end her."
Nyla closed the book with a snap. "It's not that simple. To end the witch's hold, you must return what you took."
Amara frowned. "What I took?"
"Power. Beauty. Influence. The love of men who saw your shine and wanted it for themselves. You must strip it away. Piece by piece."
Amara's breath caught.
"Even Damon?" she whispered.
Nyla's eyes softened. "Especially him."
Silence stretched across the room like a blade.
Then—footsteps.
Fast. Sharp.
The door burst open, and a figure stood in the threshold.
Liora.
Her eyes were wild. Her chest rose and fell with fury.
"I heard everything," she said. "You're still hiding things. You think you can silence the truth, but I see it. And now—so will everyone else."
Amara stood slowly. "Liora, please—"
"No." Liora raised her hand. In her palm was her phone. A voice recording blinked on screen. "I've been recording since you opened that box."
Elara moved, quick as lightning, but Nyla held her back.
"She needs to hear this out."
Liora stepped forward, her voice trembling. "You lied to everyone. You live in this school, teaching children, while hiding the fact that you made a child with a witch."
"I didn't make a child," Amara said, stepping closer. "I was a vessel. I was young. Desperate. Alone. And yes, I made a mistake—but I never wanted to harm anyone."
Liora's eyes glinted. "You already did. You hurt every girl who looked up to you. You betrayed every student who trusted you."
"And what are you doing now?" Elara said sharply. "Dragging her past into the light, for what? Justice? Or vengeance?"
Liora hesitated.
Amara reached forward. Her voice was soft, but unshaken.
"Liora… I know what you see. You see me with eyes no one else has. But I'm not your enemy. The witch still lives. In the shadows. In the halls. She's not done. And if you destroy me before we stop her—she wins."
Liora's fingers hovered over her phone.
The silence was excruciating.
Then—
She deleted the recording.
Amara exhaled.
"I'm not doing this for you," Liora muttered. "I'm doing this because I think the real war hasn't started yet."
She walked away.
The door slammed behind her.
Nyla turned to Amara. "The hour draws near. Blood moon comes tomorrow night."
Amara looked out the window.
The sky was already tinged red.