Chapter 135: Circle Of Sisterhood
Aveloria felt something loosen in her chest. She felt the urge to move closer to the iron gate and order the guards to remove her restraints. But she did not. She stayed where she was rooted to the spot.
"I thought that would be the end. I thought I would be free. My father did not die." She gave a small, broken laugh.
"He sealed my tongue with magic. He had me confined in chains for months. He kept coming. He kept doing what he had always done. And each time I fell pregnant, he would wait. He would feel the child’s energy growing inside me. And if he sensed it was a boy, he would use dark spells to kill it before it was born."
Aveloria’s eyes widened in shock. She couldn’t bring herself to utter a word.
"He wanted to be immortal. That was his goal. He had made a pact with a spirit called the Witch-Queen."
A knowing look registered on Aveloria’s face.
Eirene continued. "In exchange for immortality, his female child born of his blood had to become a vessel. So each time I carried a boy, he drained his soul and used it to renew his own mind. And by so doing, he never aged. He knew I would never succumb to being a vessel; that’s why he chose to use me as a source."
Aveloria felt her skin turn extremely cold.
"I carried many children, mostly male, and none survived. I lost count of how many he used to renew himself." Eirene sobbed. "I...was nothing...but a breeding mare to him."
Silence reigned for the longest. Neither of them said a word until Aveloria broke the silence.
"How did you escape?" she asked quietly.
Eirene blinked as if surprised by the question. "I gained my freedom when he left to seek more power from a great witch." Her voice was barely a whisper now. "I was pregnant again. My handmaid, the same one who had served me for years, helped me escape. Turned out, she was a witch hiding from those who wanted her dead in her homeland. So she had come to Drakwyne to seek protection. We fled. I used every spell I knew to cover my tracks. And I gave birth far from Drakwyne. And my child lived for the first time."
Eirene fell silent. More tears streamed down her face.
The dungeon was quiet except for the low crackle of the torches strapped to the walls. As Aveloria looked down at Eirene in her broken state, she saw not the manipulator from her past or present life, not the enemy who had orchestrated her fall, killed her mother, and bewitched her father. She saw a woman who had been used and broken long before Aveloria was born.
Aveloria felt the weight of what she just heard settle in her bones.
Eirene lifted her head slowly after some time. She continued. "I stayed in hiding for many years." Her voice was steadier now, though her eyes were swollen from crying. "I moved from village to village. Never staying long and never putting down roots. I used different names. I learned how to use my power properly. I studied. I practiced. I sought out isolated witches who never asked questions. I needed to understand my power so I would not lose control. I waited until Rowena grew older. I made a promise to myself that I would never let my child embrace the darkness the way it was meant to be. I would never let her become a wanderer, always running, always hiding. I did not perform the ritual required to bind her to that path. I refused to let her carry that mark. I kept her separate from that life."
Aveloria listened. Her face showed no emotion this time.
"When Rowena turned fifteen, our location was discovered. I do not know how. I had been careful. But one night I felt it. A presence. My father’s magic is distinct." She paused briefly. "We ran again. I was so tired, Aveloria. So tired of running my entire life. I thought about the best way to secure our safety. Not just for a month or a year. Forever. Her shoulders slumped slightly. "And that was when I thought of Lycanthria."
Aveloria felt a faint chill move across her skin, but kept her expression hard.
"A place protected by strength and tradition. Lycanthria was one place I knew no wanderer would ever step foot in. We were taught to avoid it. But for me, it was a perfect hiding place."
She looked directly at Aveloria. "I disguised myself completely. I altered my scent. I hid what I was completely so that even other witches could not sense me. And I joined the Circle of Sisterhood. That was where I met Lyra, your mother."
At those words, Aveloria felt goosebumps rise along her arms. She felt cold spread through her chest. Without thinking, she charged forward and gripped the iron gate.
"Stop! Do not mention my mother’s name!" Her voice echoed sharply in the dungeon. "You do not get to speak of her!"
Galen rushed to Aveloria. He tried to pull her away from the iron gate, but she held on. Her knuckles were turning white.
"I’m sorry." Eirene moved. The chains burned brighter against her wrists.
"I am sorry," she whispered.
"You are the reason she is dead!" Her voice shook despite her effort to control it. Tears burned down her cheeks.
Galen managed to pull her away from the iron gates. He held her shoulders and led her away from Eirene. "Lori...look at me. You don’t have to do this anymore. We should go."
Aveloria shook her head in disagreement. She knew Eirene still had so much to say.
"If you want to stay, then you have to stay calm to listen to whatever she has to say. I don’t want you getting worked up and hurting yourself." Galen said, his voice calm and soothing. "Breathe in. Breathe out."
Aveloria took in a deep breath and exhaled. He stepped closer, wiped her tears, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. She returned to where she had stayed all along.
Eirene looked up at her. "Lyra was my friend. A good one. She was kind to me from the moment I entered the Circle. The Circle of Sisterhood was not political. It was a gathering of witches who practiced pure magic. Healing. Protection. Guidance. They taught discipline. We learnt to use magic to help humanity. That was the purpose. Never use magic to gain power or for selfish reasons. That was the oath. But I joined for a different reason. I wanted knowledge. I only wanted to learn enough to protect myself and my daughter. I wanted to learn how to build barriers strong enough that my father could not cross them." She took in a sharp, deep breath.
"Lyra taught me. I showed her a few magical tricks I had learned, too. She trusted me. She confided in me. She welcomed Rowena. She gave me a good place to live. She never questioned my past beyond what I allowed her to know. She had no idea what I really was."
Aveloria gritted her teeth, her fists balling until the muscles in her knuckles burned.
"But I began to envy her. I envied her so much cause she had everything I wanted and needed. She had a kingdom that loved her. Everyone respected her. She had a mate who adored her. She had children. She had safety. She had peace. She had the full backing of Lycanthria. Armies. Alliances. Structure. She was Queen."
Aveloria stared at her in disbelief.
"I wanted to be her. I thought if I could be her, if I could sit on the throne of Lycanthria, I would have all the armies at my command. I could build more. If I had that power and authority, I could finally fight my father. I could end him for good. And I would protect Rowena forever. No more running. No more hiding."
"So you hatched a plan to kill my mother," Aveloria said flatly.
"Yes," Eirene admitted. "But it was only a thought at the time. One I didn’t accommodate cause I had formed a bond with Lyra. One that was real."
"So what happened? Tell me!" Aveloria demanded.
