Lost Secrets (BWWM)

Chapter Twenty

The pain in my chest strikes like lightning in a dry field, setting my body ablaze. Jolting out of my sleep, I grab at the spot, fully expecting a gaping hole to swallow my fingers up. My hand grazes over my chest, my heart, and instantly I know what the problem is.

"Warin!" I call, my voice cracking with fear. When I'm met with silence I call for him again only to receive the same treatment.

"No no no no," I murmur under my breath as I scramble out of bed. There's no way.

My feet hit the wood floors with a thump that echoes throughout the house, reminding me of just how empty it is. Pointlessly, I run from room to room, desperately searching for Warin even though I know he's not here. Usually I wouldn't even worry about it, but his absence never causes me pain like this, something about this time is just different - I can feel it.

As I run through the kitchen I hear the distinct whip of paper flying through the air and stop in my tracks. Turning to the counter I just passed, I search for the source of the noise, finding it on the ground where it must've landed. Quickly, I bend over and grab the paper, struggling slightly from how badly my hands are shaking.

Taking a deep breath, I flip the page over and read the note in Warin's chicken scratch handwriting. Apparently, he left to his hometown to find the final ingredients we need for our spell and will be back around one or two. The tension in my shoulders ease slightly but clench again as soon as I see the time on the microwave. The numbers three, three, and zero stare at me in blatant disrespect, daring me to react.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm down. In doing so, my eyes wander to the table and I see the remnants of a spell he left behind. My breaths come a little easier at the realization that he cast a cloaking spell, so he should be okay. It's little consolation but it's all I have right now.

To busy myself, I start cleaning up the mess Warin left, reasoning with my running thoughts as I do. There's a million reasons why he could be late. He could've gotten caught in traffic. He could be swept up in nostalgia being back home again. He could be catching up with old friends. He could be -

My ideas are instantly silenced only to be overcome by piercing pain. It feels like my head, no, my brain is on fire. Like every firing synapses is overcharged and exploding my mind from the inside out. I can't think, I can't move, all I can do is feel this incredible agony radiate from my head through the rest of my body.

Without my consent, my body drops down to my knees, causing even more pain when I land. Suffering is my existence now, it seems. My hands jolt up to my head of their own volition, trying to hold it together as it struggles against being ripped apart. I want to think of a spell or to perform some kind of magic, but I can't focus long enough to do anything. My mouth opens, in an attempt to either try to use my magic or scream - I'm unsure of which – but neither work.

It's in that moment I see him. Right in front of me, the scene is set. Warin, tied up, bound by a sick looking casing that glows red with dark magic, in a dank, wet looking room. His head is slumped forward, he's unmoving and I can't tell if he's breathing or not. Then I see her - Marion. The pain in my chest from earlier begins to make sense as the organ inside it beats wildly with fear and rage at the sight of her face.

She smiles wickedly, her thick full lips forming a grin that could make flowers wilt. Dark brown eyes alive with mischief and treachery gleam brighter as she motions for me to come forward.

I try to propel my body towards her, but the pain is too great. I only manage to fall flat on my face earning a dark laugh from her wicked lips.

"You want to keep your beloved alive little witch? You bring me what's mine," her voice feels like it's surrounding me, amplified by her magic and the hold she somehow has over me.