Chapter 5

"Calamity is it?" Fenrin's voice lingers in the air.

His eyes changed and reverted before she could even register what just occurred...

"A long silence stretched before Fenrin finally spoke, his gaze still fixed on the infant. "This child neither possesses a calamity seed nor is she a calamity herself," he said, calm as still water.

"This child is indeed a witch. But why was it born... I do not know."

It is an anomaly. "What should have been bizarre was entirely normal."Excitement drips from his voice

To Fenrin, it was nothing more than a game, and he was savoring every second. He smirked at her drenched face and carried on speaking.

What a fate... Your fear was pretty meaningless. There is a certain disappointment in his voice.

If you had hidden this child, no one would have come to know your endearment, and in my belief, no one else should know about what has transpired. His eyes are staring right through Arghet.

Arghet can understand what he means, and he is telling her not to tell another soul about it, but she can't understand why.

Is he trying to hold a leash on me, making it impossible for me to ask for help even in the future? Her thoughts start drifting widely.

Arghet looks at Fenrin to figure out the answer, but to her worry, Fenrin has already looked away.

Fenrin's eyes were now once again fixed on the child.

What an intriguing child you are. You are an abnormal one to be born without your given constraints.

He reached out to the child in Arghet's embrace, his long fingers lightly touching the baby's forehead.

"Since this child was born using my kin's essence, this is the minimum I can do. Be blessed to grow into the most magnificent specimen you can be."

Arghet could only stare helplessly.

BUT

A blessing from one of the World Enders was something every mortal and immortal lusted after.

Yet this gift was also a curse. No... to Fenrin, this was merely a game. She and the child were nothing more than a fleeting wonder, existing solely for his entertainment.

Before she could breathe a sigh of relief, Fenrin dealt his final strike—a truth spoken plainly for the first time.

"Raise the child, but never utter the secrets of its birth. Do so, and not even the Mother of Witches can protect you."

Until now, it had been nothing more than an indication, but hearing him put it into words turned the warning into a sentence.

She wanted to protest, but her voice didn't come out.

Begone from my sight... Fenrin taps on her head.

As it's lost all its value, Fenrin gets ready to toss them out.

The atmosphere starts twisting as it folds itself to make a way.

A hex gate tore open in the icy air, swallowing both her and the infant before pulling them back to her sanctuary.

Left alone in the freezing silence, Fenrin looked up at the sky. "The date was drawing near."

His body shuddered as he unravelled back into his massive, monstrous shape.

The child never woke; it is more likely to say that it was not allowed to wake up by both Witch and Fenrin.

The third cycle is coming to its climax. The gods are no more... What will it be this time? Fenrin voices his thought, but no one is there to receive it.

"Let it be the most significant of my days. I was merciful enough." His eyes darkened as he transformed back: a part of his white fur became darker as it was dipped in void.

The entity that brings an end to all things has granted a way to live. It was, in itself, the greatest mercy—making him the most merciful being alive, even while remaining the cruellest.

The great wolf backed away, retreating into the deep shadows of his cave until he vanished into the dark.

__

Back inside the witch hut

Space tore open as the Hex Gate formed in the air.

Spitting Arghet out alongside the child.

Arghet was back home, the baby resting in her arms. She looked down at the child held close to her chest.

Distancing herself from the infant She lays the baby down gently.

"Still asleep."

"The spell is still in effect." She sighs in relief.

The moments that felt inevitable had passed, overtaken by a brief moment of rest.

But

There is a deafening silence in the house.

"The mana is distorted." Arghet's hand cuts the air as she senses the shift.

"There is a gap,"

The feeling of urgency takes over as she dwells further, casting a spell.

But there is no response.

She tried to call the spirits, but their existence has already faded into nothingness.

"They have ceased to exist."

Induced with horror, the chilling feeling ran down to her spine.

When the result deviated from her expectation, she was prepared to deal with it. But that newborn is a witch; killing the child is not possible without getting caught by other witches.

She chose her only remaining option: Fenrin, who is closest to that calamity.

But is it the only option? Arghet asked herself

Her thoughts spiraled out of control

Everything that had been shrouded in doubt was finally coming into focus.

With each passing thought, new questions began to spout along with their answers.

"No, that was not the last option." Arghet's thoughts get more fragmented the more she questions her past.

Why do I choose it? No, the question is why I even think about it.

Mother Witch is a safer bet, even if she gets punished.

But she chose...

The Arghet voice failed her.

Clarity shone upon her as the pieces formed the picture, yet she couldn't voice it, unable even to hold onto the thought itself.

She couldn't form the syllables.

The simple concept of him.

Just being the fleeting shadow of his name in her mind was enough to induce a suffocating terror within her.

Surfaced with fear, she fell to the ground.

Her existence pains her with each passing breath, asking for banishment in that darkness.

In that suffocating darkness, her eyes lay on a single flicker of light, anchoring her to sanity.

Arghet's eyes lingered on the tiny life that had now become her shackles to bear.

In Arghet's eyes, the infant lay in peaceful bliss, quiet and undisturbed, having not yet opened her eyes to the world.