I met evil when I was just a child.
Long story short: I survived.
🗡️
Cassia Mekhava, the princess of the witches. Tortured by her mother. Haunted by her past.
On the run for one-and-a-half year.
She soon discovers that she is not just a mere witc...
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The general pushes past me and rushes inside. Instead of going to Charles, he surprisingly goes to Bette!
"My Bette! Look how much you've grown.", he cries.
Bette looks flabbergasted. She manages to whisper, "Dad."
It was my time to be astonished. "Step aside, Reginald. She is no longer your daughter. You left her.", commands Merida's superior voice.
Reginald doesn't say a word. He just steps aside, slowly. He really was in shock.
Charlie keeps a hand on Reginald's shoulder. "So, this is your daughter?"
Reginald nods.
I rush to Bette. "This is your father?", I whisper as I lead her away from Reginald.
She nods. "He left me and my mum when I was very young. I have never forgiven him."
I had no idea what to do now. My brother needed me, and so did my best friend. On one hand, I had to save my brother's preserved fiancé and on the other hand, I had to support my best friend emotionally because she had met her father after many years. I really couldn't decide.
Bette breaks my thought process by thinking out loud.
"I just didn't think I would meet him again. He's done something, and I cannot forgive him for that."
I don't ask Bette what he did. When I couldn't tell her about mother, how could I expect her to tell me about Reginald.
"Are you happy to see him?", I ask her, softly.
After thinking for a long time, she finally replies. "I am. He recognised me after so many years. But I can't forgive him, Case. I just can't."
"It's okay, Bette. You don't need to forgive him right now. Take your time."
She lets out a deep breathe slowly.
"Dad", she says loud enough for him to hear.
"Bette, my darling, listen to-"
"No", she cuts him off. "Cassia, my friend, as you may have guessed is the daughter of The Sorceress and needs our help. I need you to help her. We will figure this out later."
Reginald just nods.
"Good", she says. "And don't tell anyone about this."
She turns to us. "Let's wear our cloaks and go to the meeting room, shall we?"
Her authoritative voice makes me so proud of her. She and I were so alike, yet so different. She hid her pain, through asserting power. Whereas I hid it by staying silent, fearing that if I'd speak a word, I'd either cry or scream at the world.
