spellbound | book #1 | completed

X L V

[edited: 21/03/2018]

The army had begun to emerge from the portals by the time that Hilda had used a tracking spell and climbed to the top of the cliffs. She could see them only as dots of red scattering themselves among the black cliffs and pouring out of bright portals, looking like beads of blood that were slowly turning into pools. For a moment, she felt overwhelmed and had to lean against a rock for support; this was her doing. She had been the owner of the key and the mother of the enemy. Now, a war was starting, and her children were in danger.

Above her, a green orb glowed, motioning for her to carry on into the cave opening in front of her, but she wasn't sure that she could. What would she find there? She already worried that her son was past the point of redemption, and the last thing she wanted was to see him again and remind herself of that. It wasn't just her eldest son she was concerned about, though; what if Maksim had been hurt, or worse? And Remy, too? She had never particularly liked the company of mortals, but Remy was different. In many ways, she reminded her of herself—bold, strong, stubborn—but where Hilda had always been cold and selfish, Remy was warm and selfless, and she did not know how Maksim would cope if anything was to happen to her.

There was something else, too. Ackmard's words niggling in the back of head from the time he had talked to her in the library: "Two of your children are filled with darkness."  She had known ever since then that he was somehow in contact with his sister, her daughter, and she dreaded having to face her if she was in there with Ackmard. She knew nothing about how Erika had turned out since she had given her up, and that was somehow worse. 

After taking a long, shaky breath, she pushed herself away from the rock and began to follow the floating orb into the cave. She did not get very far before a voice emanated from behind her and all of her fears came to life. The tracking spell's light wilted to the floor like an old flower before its emerald light was dispelled.

"Are you sure you want to go in there, Hilda?"

It was a female voice, sounding smug and amused. When she turned around to face the source of it, her stomach turned to water. She had not seen her daughter since she had been just a child with ringlets in her red hair and freckles dotted over her face. Erika had very clearly grown up since then; now her skin was as clear as a porcelain doll's and her hair cascaded into loose waves that floated in the cool breeze like snakes ready to strike. Her face was carved into a cruel grimace, and though her eyes were light, there was something black hiding just behind the iris.

"Ackmard would not be very happy if you intruded on him," she continued and inched slightly closer, her back straight and her shoulders down proudly. Everything about her was so familiar, so much like her and her two sons, that she felt as though she knew her. She had to remind herself of the darkness she held, though part of her was so tempted to gather her long lost daughter into her arms and apologise for ever giving her up. "He has a little bit of catching up to do with the better brother, I think."

"How did you find him?" she questioned, so quietly that her voice was lost in the wind. Still, Erika must have heard her, for her mouth carved into a smirk.

"What, you mean after you abandoned me to have your perfect little family?" 

 "It was not like that." A tear slid down Hilda's cheek as she inched closer to her daughter. "I thought I was helping you. I thought I was pulling you away from the darkness. You deserved better than a monster for a mother, Erika."

"You are the reason that I am like this." Her voice was venomous as she glared at Hilda. "I was born a monster because you were one first. Is it true that I was born with black eyes?"

Hilda gulped and nodded reluctantly, her red hair whipping around her face so that she could barely see. "My own darkness was too much a part of you. I had to give you up to give you a chance to have a better life. I am so sorry, Erika."

She could not help but gaze at the monster she had created. Erika was beautiful, radiant, completely incongruous with the dull grey rocks and cloudy sky behind her, but there was evil in everything that she did, and the more that Hilda looked at her now, the more she saw that. Perhaps her eyes were no longer black, and perhaps everything about her was filled with colour, but she had been consumed by shadows for too long—and it was all Hilda's fault. If she had not have fallen pregnant when she was practicing dark magic with the key always in the pocket of her cloaks, this would never have happened.

"You're sorry?" Erika gave out a short laugh as though there was something very amusing about the word. "Well, I suppose that makes up for it, then. Shall we have a tea party to celebrate the reunion?"

"Of course it does not make up for it. I was an awful mother to you and I do not ever deserve your forgiveness, but it doesn't have to be like this. I can help you, Erika. I found my way out, and you can, too."

"I do not want your help anymore. You are a few centuries too late for that now." She crossed one hand over the other, her elbows straight, and Hilda saw another piece of herself in her daughter. "If you really want to help me, you can pull that key from around the pathetic little mortal's neck."

"You know that I will not help you to do that. That key has cost me everything, and I do not want you to make the same mistakes as I did."

She tilted her head slowly, curiously. "Do you not think it is a bit late for that, Hilda?"

Hilda. As though she could not stand to even think of her as her mother. She knew, of course, that she did not deserve anything less, but it still made her heart strain painfully against her rib cage.

She shook her head aggressively, on the verge of sobbing now. Years of suppressing all of the pain she felt was finally coming back to the surface, and she felt just as she had when she had given up her first child. "No. You can find a way to be good, I know you can."

"I do not want to be good!" Erika shouted, and just like that her green eyes had been replaced by black ones, causing Hilda to shudder. "I am not good. I will never be good, and I will never wish to be. Look at Maksim! Look at the way you have treated him for so long, look at how he has lived with so much pain and neglect because his mother is cold and detached, yet he still cares and wants to do what is right! Why on Refilyn would I ever want to be good, when to be good is to be weak?"

"You could have a family again. We could start again, all of us—"

"Do you honestly think," Erika snarled, "that I want to be a family with you? You were supposed to love me unconditionally, not just when it suited you."

"I do love you, Erika. I have always loved you."

"No, you have not, because I am a reminder of the monster that lives inside of you. Of all of the things you did when you had the key, I am by far the worst thing to come out of it, and that scares you. You do not want me because you do not want to face the evil in yourself. You do not love me, Hilda. You fear me."

"No," Hilda cried. The cold bit at her cheeks and hands, and she was aware of shouting coming from somewhere in the distance, but she could not turn away to find out what it was now.

"Yes," Erika said, a sudden air of calmness replacing her frantic state. "It is you who is the true monster, Hilda, not me. You owe me much more than you can give, and that is why you will get that key from the mortal's neck. You will do it for all of your children. You do not want to find out will happen if you do not." 

Black smoke curled from Erika's fingers and slithered its way towards Hilda until it was close enough to coil around her torso. Hilda did not fight it; she watched her daughter, feeling so much guilt that she was not quite sure how to handle it, and allowed her final few tears to fall from her eyes. Darkness filled her vision, and then she found herself in a cave, though it took her eyes a few moments to adjust to the dim lighting before she could tell.

It was damp and cold, and on the other side of the room stood her two sons. Only one of them was shocked, and it was not Ackmard.

"Mother," he sneered. "I was wondering when you would show up—and I see you have even been reunited with your daughter.

"How exciting."