Penny read the carvings on the wooden box again before she looked up at Father Antonio to ask,
“What does this mean?”
“Damien had spoken about the alignment of stars, I think this is what it indicates,” replied the witcher. There were three of them, one who had gone on vacation and the second one was her and the third one…they were not sure if it was Belle Adams as they had not verified it so far.
“I can read the scripts written in the previous book but I don’t think I have the ability to do the same when it comes to this,” it was a different language than what Penny had come across before.
Father Antonio’s dusted eyebrows scrunched together, “I thought you could.”
“It is a whole different language. When did you start working in this church and find this?” she questioned him.
The man gave a thoughtful look as he tried recollecting when he had turned to a priest here, “Two decades ago I believe. There were other priests who had been assigned here in the past but I doubt anyone ever found out about this little box.”
Penny knew that the age of the witches was somewhere similar to the vampires only that the witches could manipulate their age while the vampires couldn’t. He had been assigned here before she was even born into this world.
“After reading what was written in the box, I came to believe that this must be an important piece, and seeing that I couldn’t read it, I brought it to this room. I would still like you to keep it,” said Father Antonio to her, “Keep it because you are the only one I believe can crack what is written in here that might come in use.”
Penny pursed her lips, wondering where she could decipher it when she knew no one who could. She doubted the black witches had their own language because if there was one, the council and the others would have coughed it out of them.
Folding the piece of paper and putting it in her pocket, she said, “I will see if I can do something with it,” the man nodded at her.
“We will be leaving the church in two weeks, it would be a shame to not give things that might come in use for you or the others. Come up with me to the secret room. I have a few books that might add up to your collection,” saying this, they left the cold and empty room. Blowing the lights from the lanterns and going back up the stairs and then to step into the room of books and potions.
“Will people be able to find it?” she asked him. As the church was going to shut down, there was a possibility that the council would make a check before closing the doors of this church in a span of fourteen days.
“I doubt they will be able to find it. The room shows itself only to the witches and mainly the white witches. We never had a black witch to test it,” Father Antonio turned to explain it to her and then turned back to look where he was going, “It has been a cycle where we have often let the new white witches who we can trust to take a look at this place and that is what happened when and before I came. The knowledge has been passed over the years and with the church closed. It will remain a secret.”
Father Antonio then gave her the books that might come to be handy for her one after another, filling up her arms. And while the man was searching for other books, Penny’s eyes fell on the number of potions that filled the shelves in this room. They were colorful, forming different shades of light on the floor and the walls when the light of the lantern touched the flasks.
It was a shame how these potions couldn’t be used but at the same time, if there was one person who could come here even after the lock was placed on the doors of the church, it was Damien. With that thought, she took the books from Father Antonio but didn’t take it along with her when she stepped out of the church.
Instead, the books would be sent to the mansion directly to avoid suspicion on her.
The carriage had been parked on the other side of the street as Penny wanted to visit the local cemetery here. With a bunch of flowers in her hand, she stepped into the cemetery where Damien’s mother rested right now.
Penny had only seen the woman in the portraits and in the memory of Damien which he sometimes spoke when his mother’s topic arose. She was sure that if the woman was still alive, Penny would never be next to Damien. For someone who stuck on to the principles of the pureblooded society and who believed that there was no one higher than the night creatures.
Both Penelope, as well as Damien, shared the same sentiments when it came to the thought about it and somewhere they were glad on how things turned while also sad that she could never meet and while also thinking with ‘what if’ conditions.
Stepping close to his mother’s grave where the headstone was made of marble, Penny could tell that even though the woman was cruel to the public people, she treasured her family and in return, her family loved her back. Senior Mr. Quinn must be missing her, thought Penny to herself.
The wife he had then and the wife right now appeared starkly different. Bending down, she placed the flowers on the headstone.
“We haven’t met and we will never be able to meet or greet…but I am here because I have a few things to share with you,” said Penny looking down at the marble stone, “I love your son and I hope that wherever you are, you come to accept me as his partner. I am not a pureblooded vampire but a white witch…I know your hate towards them.”
Penny paused her words, staring at the marble as her sentences came out to be awkward, “No matter who or what I am, I will treasure your son as much as you have treasured him when you were still next to him. Rest well…” Penny murmured the last few words and stood up. She wondered if she had to say something more and when she turned around, she saw a man who stood behind her.
