Chapter 3 : Origin

I looked at the book in awe, realizing where it all started and how it all started. I tried to open it, but it was locked and wouldn't open. Not to my surprise, I giggled, "Everything here has to be locked." Without wasting a minute, I turned the back of my hand and placed my beautiful insignia on the book. A pattern formed on the book, opening it up.

I sat down, hoping and at the same time knowing that my history lay here. I closed my eyes for a minute before starting to read. I did this because I was kind of scared and jittery about finding out what the book contained. Without further delay, I opened my eyes with an abysmal conviction and started to read:

"Witches are humans and also not humans. These rare beings have been created to withhold balance in the world, mystical entities—more than one—bedecked with immense magical attributes. The mother witch, Madame Claire, was the first-ever witch consigned to Earth to help prevent the spasms of evil creatures called Ozyrx.

These magical beings are known for their destructive allegory. They are the epitome of evil, the paradigm of rancor. In a world where these devils roamed free, the gods decided to cleanse the world by creating these powerful beings called witches. The first-ever and most powerful witch in history is Madame Claire.

In the year 560 XC, Madame Claire single-handedly wiped out more than 2,000 Ozyrx from badgering the world. The gods became so happy, but they knew that, unlike the Ozyrx—who could live for more than 500 years—only Madame Claire couldn't and wouldn't be sufficient in preventing the besieging process. The world needed more witches.

Ozyrx can never be wiped out completely, not by only one person. At best, the gods decided to create humans who, unlike witches, have no magical attributes and can either be male or female. The humans soon took over the world, and everything blossomed perfectly. Madame Claire passed down her insignia to her bloodline, and all this happened without the humans knowing.

Madame Claire was a powerful being—an all-powerful, all-knowing entity. The witches are cursed never to talk about the Ozyrx, because, you see, the Ozyrx's existence must be kept at bay, secretive to only those who bear the crest. The more the Ozyrx are talked about to non-witches, the more it hastens their spawning and multiplication.

As Madame Claire did a perfect job keeping the Ozyrx a secret, the Ozyrx were in a state of unperturbed quiescence. Only Claire's little witchlings were cognizant of their existence. Life thrived in this new world, free from evil, as they all thought—unknowing of what was bound to happen."*

A few years passed as news reached Madame Claire's household on an ill-starred day about the passing of her husband. Her heart stuttered and shattered into a million fragments as her beloved was said to have been massacred by a ravaging beast on his hunting odyssey.

The heartbreak resulted in depression, as her love for her deceased husband became her greatest weakness, causing her magical attributes to slowly weaken and wane. Magical attributes come from a witch's personality. As Madame Claire was the first witch in existence, her magical attributes were all-encompassing. But the love she had for her family was its compass; it was what made her a force to be reckoned with.

So, you could put it in your own little subtle way: an all-encompassing, powerful mage with a love attribute preserving her strength and simultaneously extirpating it.

In a world where you can't remain a widow forever, the Burgess matchmade Madame Claire with a total stranger. As things were done, as ignorant as ever, Madame Claire was left with no choice, as it was part of the statutes.

In the new world, humans are gifted with intelligence and curiosity. The same intelligence—leading to ignorance, which they proudly vaunt—was what led to their immutable destruction.

Months flew by as Madame Claire wasn't still accustomed to her new life and hadn't been intimate with her new consort, Theodore. This aversion and rejection of intimacy made Theodore chafe with displeasure, annoyance, and anger as he did the unthinkable, which ended up causing the destruction of the first half of the world.

One unfortunate night, after being refused intimacy once more, Theodore reached the point of exceeded boundaries as he went into one of the witchling's rooms—Alicia's. Alicia was the eldest of the witches, at 17.

Theodore barged in with no constraints as he forced himself on Alicia. Alicia, in a state of shock, muttered dreadfully, "Pa, no, please, no."

Alicia was weak in comparison to Theodore as she hadn't been crested.

"I'm not your father. Your mother has refused me intimacy, and now you're going to bear all the pain she has inflicted on me!"

Alicia, confused, kept telling her supposed father to stop, as what he was doing was wrong. Theodore had had enough. He pinned her down and had his way with her as Alicia cried and sobbed.

Theodore went on for hours, denigrating her pride and dignity. Alicia couldn't take all this anymore; as the sobbing became so intense, Theodore cuffed her mouth and continued the devilish act, ultimately claiming her life.

Claire witnessed all this in a nightmare. She sprung up and beat her feet toward Alicia's room, praying that her dream-like presentiments hadn't come into materialization.

Her racing mind ended up twisting and metamorphosizing into a cold glare. Her breath caught in her throat—a scream that refused to come—as her knees buckled beneath the unbearable weight of what her eyes were forced to witness.

The world moved in slow, cruel motion, each second stretching into an eternity of anguish. Her fingers clawed at the air, powerless to shield her child from the unspeakable violation. Her heart fractured with every desperate plea she couldn't utter.

The light in her eyes dimmed, replaced by a raw, searing torment—a hollow stare carved from unrelenting despair. It was not just her daughter's innocence being stolen but her own soul being torn apart, piece by piece, as she bore silent witness to an atrocity that no heart, no mind, could ever reconcile.

All this, as she watched Theodore continue to ravish her obviously defunct daughter."