Her Broken Spell

Chapter 33

Dark magic was like a drug.

The more a person consumed it, the more the person depended on it. So while Dionne still had some wits with her, she decided to move to a town three hours away from her grandmother's house. Ylona did not have any qualms with her decision as long as she goes back at least twice a month and visits her.

She would take that any moment rather than living with the woman for the rest of her life.

She started to live like how the humans did even if she had a lot to catch up on their culture. She was able to rent a very tiny apartment near her workplace. Her employer accepted her as a utility worker in a building that humans call a hotel.

Changing sheets, mopping floors, and scrubbing the toilets were a huge achievement for her if she was to compare that to her old ways of stealing.

But, she had years ahead of her. She was a sorceress who knew how to wield strong magic. So, being a cleaner was only supposed to be her stepping stone, not a permanent way of living.

All the employment that she had was never for the money but for experience and for helping the humans. It was her way of atoning for her sins to their kind. She was especially active in volunteering in orphanages and teaching little kids.

Her fighting skills also benefited the youth because she gave free lessons so that they could defend themselves, unlike those children who were helpless to her and her grandmother.

Her grandmother. Even after all the years that she tried to steer clear of Ylona, the dark magic was always there. Lurking. Reminding her that no matter how many times she tried to be of service to humankind, she was still a fraud.

So she moved from town to town, acting like a good samaritan in the hopes of finding a coven that would take her in. She still visited her grandmother on several occasions so that the old woman would not be suspicious of her intentions.

But instead of finding a coven, she found a best friend—a sister she never had.

"I cannot help but notice that you always come to our donation drives but you never interact with other volunteers. I am Esmeralda, by the way. What is your name?" The young woman with tanned skin and wavy black hair asked.

"I am Dionysia Yvonne. But most people call me Yvonne nowadays," she replied as she shook Esmeralda's hand.

"But, I can tell that you want to be called Dionysia Yvonne instead?" The woman's brown eyes glittered with understanding.

"That is correct. My two names hold a special place in my life. But, I know that it is quite long."

"Agree. Can we shorten it, perhaps? How about..." she paused and made a thinking gesture. "Dionne! I mixed your two names. Pretty, is it not?"

"Alright? But Esmeralda is also quite a mouthful."

"You can also shorten it if you like?"

Because she wanted their conversation to be done and over with, she said the first thing that popped into her mind. "Esme?"

"Perfect! Now we can shake on it," they shook hands. "I am Esme!"

"I guess I am Dionne, then."

"It is our special name to each other," she winked.

At last, their conversation was over. Or so she thought.

Esme always found a way for them to meet in voluntary works and donation drives. If Dionne did not show up, Esme would visit her in her work at the library. She sometimes went to her tiny apartment and brought snacks for them to share.