The Ouiums Journey: Hell Broke Loose (book 1)

Chapter 4

I visited them whenever I could after I finished work and practised magic. It was a delightful change to my typical days as it wasn't anymore gloomy. Even a few people commented that I was glowing. I found it hard to maintain a balance between them both. Kaspar revealed some secrets to me. I learned that Skylar used to be a representative of this coven. However, he started dabbling in dark magic and was driven to resign. He had to leave behind all of his companions for an unknown reason other than his use of dark magic. A select few trusted Skylar, and for a good reason. Though, I did not have any reason not to trust him. And just as we were experiencing progress with a few setbacks, Akin was also doing the same. He continued to bother us with his purist beliefs and started gathering more followers. We were afraid this might lead to something more, like a cult, or even a war.

Estelle desired to rebuild her coven, but that was easier said than done. I offered my support, and hopefully, in time, we can do it. No longer shall we be separated because we need to unite as one.

With this new discussion, it brought back a memory of my mother. I wished things could go back to the way they once were when I was happier.

Long ago, as a child, before Hell and before the dark magic consumed me, I remember my mother watching over me as I tried desperately to revive my dead marigold. It had died on the windowsill in the kitchen, and I wanted to bring it back with my magic.

I turned to face my mother with tears in my eyes as I cried to her, "Mother, can you revive my marigold? My magic is no good. I've tried saying the words with the hand movement, but I cannot do it."

My mother, then at the time a newly accepted witch of a coven, replied with a smile on her face, "Esa, you're doing fine. You must fail before you succeed. Learning magic is no easy feat, but I assure you, my son, it gets better as you practice."

Tried as I could, I simply could not master the spell to bring my flower back to life. After multiple tries and failures, with several tears and pleas from me, my mother cast a spell and raised the flower back to living form, a soft white glow around it.

I looked back to my mother as she said, "Esa, I know you may not believe me now, but you have great power within you. Even if you're young now, you'll grow to be a powerful witch. I believe in you."

"Mother, it's too hard. All these spells, all these things to remember, how am I supposed to get better at it if I can't even do such a simple spell?"

Little did I know then that the spell was more difficult than I believed it to be, and that my mother was teaching me to overcome difficulty. After all, she was born to an elder witch, how could she not have such great capabilities?

Looking back on it, it was such a wonderful memory. I was such a brat with my mother secretly doing magic alongside me to help encourage me. Here I was now, a confused being at a crossroads in my life, just trying to find my way in the world. Gone were those days when I looked up to her for guidance or help. Now, I was all alone by myself, facing whatever trials and tribulations that came my way.

These new memories filled me with uncertainty that things may not go back to the way they once were.

Is it too late? I need a distraction from this. There is bound to be something to take all this away from my mind, and I knew what to do.

I decided that I needed to look for Skylar, but I have no idea of his whereabouts. I toyed with the idea of divining his whereabouts, but if I could not master a simple spell, there was no way I would be able to locate him easily, if at all. Divination required an object, something that had touched the individual on the last day. The longer the object was touching the person, and the frequency, the stronger the magic was. I walked through the steps I had previously taken, looking around the area for any semblance of an object that could lead me to him. Even with the winds whistling through the grasses, the hallowed halls dripping with the memories of possible choices. Nothing seemed to fit the sense of urgency. I gave in. I was defeated, so I searched out Estelle. She sat comfortably over a desk, pouring through manuscripts before her. My presence was known by the creaking of the library doors opening.