It was also funny how the very same people visited the church every day, coming with hope and prayers which was looked over by the white witches who took over the roles of the priest and priestess while also making the medicines which were used by them.
Now that she thought about it, she realized there were some things that were being followed through. Right now both Damien and Penelope were here because she was a white witch. If everything in Wovile had gone through right without her mother putting her up for sacrifice, they would have never come here to discover more about herself or the people. Maybe even finding the children would take time but that wasn’t all.
The magistrate would have given the package of the spitgrass which would have led to more families being put up for corruption. It made her question and wonder if this was what it meant to be part of the alignment stars. To drive what life wanted from them or her.
“No!” they heard suddenly the high pitch voice of the magistrate who shook his head in disbelief.
“We would ask you to oblige and come with us so we can start the proceedings.”
The magistrate stepped away from them, “I did nothing wrong! I was saving my son.”
Lord Alexander looked tired over the matter and said, “We might understand where you are coming from but what you did was protect your son while putting the entire race of vampires in jeopardy. It would have in the process killed humans and your family too.”
“I don’t agree with this! I want to go through the court council for this! I am liable to it,” the man continued to revolt their words to whatever they had come down to.
The councilwoman turned to her younger brother, and councilman Sylvester suddenly turned the magistrate’s hand, twisting it behind his back to say, “We would request you to follow us so that we can come to a further decision after speaking to the higher-ups with the head council. Until then you stay in the cells of the town.”
“NO! My son!” the man thrashed, trying to escape from the hold of the vampire who had caught him but to no avail, “I need to meet my wife and see my son buried. I need to see him again.”
“You will be brought here again,” Lord Alexander gave his word to the father of the dead boy, “When the ritual is done you will be brought here to see him be cremated. We expect your coordination in the matter. The more you try to revolt the more difficult it will be for me to bring you here to see your son later this evening,” he said knowing how much time it would take for the exorcism to take place.
Gone was the man who Penny had met yesterday who had been holding himself back from breaking down. His hair was a mess and his eyes looked tired and exhausted. Right in time, a woman came running through the gates of the cemetery.
“Oh no! What happened to him!” the woman cried looking down at her son. She was the magistrate’s wife.
The woman’s cries could be heard in the cemetery, her eyes smeared with tears. Her husband who had been with the councilmen and councilwoman ran to console his wife, “Our son!” his wife cried in his arms, unable to look at the state of how their little son was found now.
Penny’s heart broke seeing this. Gulping down the sadness which bubbled up her throat and eyes. It was too sad to look at as both of them cried. The council members gave him a few more minutes before he was being pulled away from there.
“Where are you taking him?!” the magistrate’s wife questioned, her eyes wide in fear. This time Sylvia had stepped in to stop the lady, holding her to console the woman.
“Madame, please calm down. Your husband needs to go through some questioning before he would be released,” Sylvia said as the sibling council members both of them took her husband away from the cemetery. The woman looked torn, one where her son laid dead and the other side where her husband was being taken away.
Lord Alexander walked back to where Penny was, looking at her frown over what was happening, “This is just the beginning,” she heard him say to her, “With the other parents who are yet to come there will be more tears being spilled and more vengeance being fueled where other races will be held guilty even though they aren’t,” he said his hands in his trouser pockets with a sullen expression on his face, “Do you want to go back home?” Lord Alexander was being considerate enough to give her the option of going back to the mansion where she wouldn’t be able to deal with it.
“You think I cannot handle it,” she commented hearing his words for him to twist his lips before he said,
“I am sure you can handle more than what the rest of us can. But it isn’t about if you can handle it or not, you have already stepped into this world but you’re still at the entrance and you still have the ability to turn back, to look away and not know how bad the world is.”
“Wouldn’t that be me ignoring by closing my eyes and telling everything is fine,” Penny replied back, a small smile coming on her lips.
“Maybe. But haven’t you heard a saying by the humans on how ignorance is sometimes a bliss? The more you step in the more pain you will find. I say it because I find certain similarities between you and my mother.”
So that was what it was, thought Penny to herself. He was worried that she would end up with the same fate as his mother.
“True that you have Damien with you but the way you are right now, you need to acquire more knowledge. And that knowledge will need bending rules even if they are set by your loved ones. Will you be able to do that?” he asked her, seeing Sylvia continue to console and hold back the woman who was in fits of tears, “We might try to ignore it but the truth might be that my mother tried tapping into forbidden magic which was why she was able to write down the spells in detail. I am a person with mixed blood, two different races which turn me to a different race again. But you have two types of blood of different races.”
Penny tried to grasp what Alexander was saying. After a few seconds, she asked him, “Are you saying it is okay if I tap into the forbidden magic?”
“I don’t know. Is that what I was saying?” Lord Alexander, in turn, asked her question. A characteristic which even Damien possessed when she asked him a question.
