By the little memory flashes, Penny knew the witcher wasn’t lying and was speaking the truth, “Were we friends?” she asked him.
“We were,” the man answered her.
This time it was Damien who commented by saying, “Your taste in friends is bad.”
“Apologies, Master Damien. I didn’t have any to compare to,” she retorted back earning a grin from Damien. The man continued to look at Penny and now at Damien, listening to their conversation.
Lord Alexander stared at the male witcher, his appearance shifting from black witch to human before it finally settled on the human skin, staring at the couple in the room who were back in their own bubble-like little children. Leaving them be, he took a step forward to observe the man closer.
“You are a black witch who was chased by her mother. What do you know about the woman? Was it the reason that you liked Miss Penelope or was there something more?” asked Alexander, his dark red eyes calculatingly staring at the black witcher whose eyes had shifted from the couple to the Lord of Valeria.
“You aren’t normal too,” he said sniffing the air.
“Congratulations on finding that out,” Alexander praised him, “Do you think I care if you know what I am or what she is?”
“Of course, you don’t. You will have me killed before that,” came the solemn answer, “Isn’t that what you do? Son of the white witch.”
“That’s true,” Alexander agreed to the black witcher, “So tell us about her mother.”
Even Penny was interested in knowing about it. She already knew some versions of what her mother showed and some of which she found out herself. To know from an outsider’s perspective would surely give another story.
“Penelope’s mother…she was a kind woman. She worked very hard for her daughter’s sake, day in and out always away from home and tired without anyone’s support,” okay maybe this was not what Penny wanted to hear, “At least that is what I saw and noticed until Penelope one day told me that she remembered something which wasn’t aware of. Telling her mother had hit her.”
“She didn’t tell me anything but I understood that it was the curse of the memory which her mother had placed on her. It was only after learning about her memory erase did I understand that there were witches apart from me. What I didn’t understand was how she didn’t turn out to be a witch but eventually, she did,” said the black witcher, his eyes falling back on Penny.
“You didn’t help her?” asked Damien, for someone who liked the girl he didn’t do a good job in keeping her safe.
“I tried to but Penelope didn’t tell me anything and headed home telling me she would return the next day, but that day never came,” Penny took his words as a sign that she must have confronted her mother which had led to another erase. It made her question on, how many times did her mother actually do it? The amount of patience to save herself from Penny who still didn’t know what she must have seen that had scared her.
Alexander then questioned, “If a black witch can identify another black witch, how come her mother didn’t get a whiff about you? Or didn’t you get one from the family?”
“We have a talisman that helps in covering our entire appearance from the black witches,” the witcher continued to explain, “A few months ago, the talisman crumbled itself to dust. Whoever has ever owned one they all withered away and I don’t know why. Penelope never came to see me and I didn’t get to confirm as I have witch hunters who were too keen on hunting me down. After that, I had more hunters. By the time I returned back it was told her mother died and she didn’t live in the village anymore. So I decided to search for her.”
Penny realized she didn’t know his name and she inquired, “What is your name?”
The black witcher looked a little disappointed to know that she didn’t remember him but it was her mother’s doing, “It is Isaiah…” he said locking his eyes with her beautiful ones.
“How long did we live next to each other as neighbors, Mr. Isaiah?” she asked him.
“Must be around nine months. The house next to you had only turned vacant as the old man passed away. So I moved in there for a temporary time,” answered the male witcher named Isaiah.
“Did you ever speak to my mother?”
“No,” he shook his head. Then that would mean that her mother had taken him to be a threat where she might have blurted out to what she had done to bring back the box of memories which were hidden from her, “It isn’t hard to know it was her who tipped the witch hunter because, in less than two days, I had left the village. But I am glad to hear she died, was it a witch hunter?” he asked to see Penny smile.
“She’s still alive.”
“What?” he turned his head, looking confused at her, “But there is a grave of her and the villages were happy about her death.”
Damien chuckled, “Some graves are not filled but left empty witcher. The woman is still alive and breathing. She faked her death,” he turned the metal rod, rotating it before asking, “Do you know how to unwind the memory? To bring it back?”
The black witch shook his head, “If I knew I would have helped her that day. With the way it happened in the past, I don’t think her mother did a good job of hiding her memory because if I am not wrong, Penelope must have already had episodes of her past slipping through the cracks of the wall. It is only time until everything opens up.”
Damien gave some thought about it, his eyes staring at the man and asking, “Do you love your life witcher?”
“Yes, why?” The pureblooded vampire smiled, a scheme already forming in his mind.
