The lies Gates Tell

The healing hut reeked of blood and burning herbs. Annie moved between cots, her boots sticking slightly to the blood-soaked floorboards. Each witch she tended to stared at her with the same hollow gaze—not just from pain, but betrayal. 

"They blame me" 

Her fingers trembled as she pressed a vial to a young witch's lips. The girl had third-degree burns crawling up her arms like twisted vines. 

"Drink," Annie murmured. Mira obeyed, but her eyes screamed accusations. 

Behind them, a sudden commotion. Two witches nearly came to blows over the last pain tonic. "My sister needs this more!" one snarled. 

Annie intervened with a sharp click of her tongue. The sound froze them mid-grab. Without a word, she split the vial in two. 

"This is what's left of us."

Dawn painted the wreckage in gold, making the devastation almost beautiful. Annie hauled a collapsed beam aside, her muscles screaming. Nearby, Lunara whispered to a group of children, distracting them with floating wisps of violet light. 

Then came the voice that cut deeper than any blade:

"You let this happen." 

Elara stood framed by the ruins of her home, her face a mask of soot and fury. The gash on her cheek wept fresh blood. 

Annie didn't flinch. "I know." 

"Lilith died for *nothing*—" 

"Enough." Annie's voice cracked like a whip. "You think I don't see their faces every time I close my eyes?" She gestured to the wounded. "You think I don't *know*?" 

For the first time, her composure slipped. The ground at her feet blackened slightly, tendrils of smoke curling from her clenched fists. 

The witches nearby recoiled—all but Elara, who met her glare. 

"...Then make it right," Elara whispered. 

A memory flashed—Lilith's hand on her shoulder, years ago: *"Leadership isn't about being perfect. It's about being accountable."* 

Annie exhaled. "I swear to you all—no more witches will die because I failed to protect them." The ground stopped smoldering. "But I need you *with* me. Not behind me." 

Slowly, Elara nodded. 

While on the healing room ...

Menma woke gasping, claws unsheathing before he fully registered the daylight. 

*Lilith's body hitting the stone. The Purgatorist's laugh.* 

His demonic veins pulsed black for one terrifying second before receding. The tree he'd leaned against now bore five parallel slashes in its bark. 

"Easy." Lunara's voice came from his left. She didn't flinch at his claws. "Breathe." 

He forced air into his lungs. The flower she'd given him last night—a crushed bluebell—still sat in his palm. 

*"Menma! Stop lazing about!"* Lilith's voice echoed in his memory, so vivid he turned his head expecting to see her. 

Instead, he found Lunara studying him. "You heard her too, didn't you?" 

His throat closed up. 

Lunara tucked a fresh bluebell into his shirt pocket. "She'd hate this moping. *'Get up, you idiot! We've got work to do!'*" Her spot-on imitation startled a wet chuckle out of him. 

For the first time since the massacre, something in his chest unclenched. 

While on the meeting hall...

The meeting hall's patched roof let in spears of moonlight. Annie stood before her people, the map of Lulusia spread across the table. 

"We go at dawn," she stated. 

The backlash was instant: 

"Suicide!" 

"They'll slaughter us!" 

Annie silenced them with a raised hand. "Zayne slaughtered *them* for us. That means something." 

"But he's *human*," spat an elder. 

"And we're out of options." Annie's nails bit into her palms. "I won't order anyone to come. But I *am* going." 

Silence. Then— 

"I'm with you." Lunara stepped forward. 

Menma appeared at her shoulder, golden eyes glinting. "Obviously." 

Sybil, Saphyra, and Sylvara moved as one. "We guard both of our queens ," Sybil said simply. 

Annie's breath caught. These weren't just followers—they were *family*. The kind Lilith had died protecting. 

She turned head in the direction of the witches " I swear it to you! No other witch will be killed, while im still alive!" She sealed the vow into her bones. 

And they got ready to go to Lulusia Kingdom, even bringing some potions with themselves, in case of need...

While the other witches stayed and rebuilt their village.

In dawn they got ready and started walking, when the other witches stopped them...

Elara hesitated, gripping the hem of her tattered cloak. "We… we were wrong."

The other witches stood behind her, shifting uneasily. Some still bore resentful glares, their wounds—physical and emotional—too fresh to ignore. But others, like Mira, had eyes filled with something softer.

Regret.

Annie swallowed hard. "You don't have to come," she said, her voice steady. "I don't want you to follow out of guilt."

"We're not," another witch—an elder this time—murmured. "We spoke in anger. Fear. But you're right, Annie. If we let our pain divide us, we'll all fall alone."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the group. Even Elara, though stiff, nodded.

Annie's throat tightened. These were the same witches who had cast doubt on her, who had questioned her leadership when she had needed them most. And yet, they were still here.

She let out a shuddering breath. Then, before she could stop herself, she stepped forward and pulled Elara into a tight embrace.

The other witches followed, surrounding her in a tangle of arms and quiet, unspoken forgiveness.

" Can we come with you? " asked the witches 

Annie started crying tears of joy " Thank you all for your support, but I think i have put together quite a team , and also i don't want the humans to think we are going overthere to cause problems "

" Okay then , come back safely and bring some help with you , so that we can avenge Lilith and all the other witches"Said a witch 

" We will do!"Said Annie with a beautiful smile,and then started walking as the witches prayed for their safe return.

Annie hugged the group , and said " thank God i have you."

2 days later...

The trek through the forest was long, the air thick with damp earth and lingering ash. Even though the fires had died, the ghosts of destruction remained—charred trees, scorched grass, the occasional skeletal remains of a hut.

Sybil scouted ahead, her movements swift and silent. Saphyra walked beside Lunara, whispering incantations under her breath, ensuring no hidden threats lurked in the underbrush.

Menma trailed behind, hands clenched. The fresh bluebell in his pocket felt heavier than it should.

Annie glanced at him. "We're going to need you sharp when we get there."

He exhaled slowly. "I know."

A rustling in the distance had them all stopping in their tracks. Sybil's ears twitched.

"Just a deer," she confirmed after a moment.

But Annie didn't move. Something about the wind had changed.

She turned her gaze toward the horizon. Lulusia's silhouette was beginning to take shape—a distant wall of stone against the early dawn.

We're really doing this.

She tightened her grip on her sword.

"Let's move."

Lulusia's walls loomed like a mountain range carved by giants. The sheer scale should've been intimidating, but Annie found it... welcoming. Strange. 

The massive gates swung open before they knocked. 

Zayne leaned against the archway, cleaning his nails with a dagger. "Took you long enough," he drawled—then froze as his gaze landed on Menma's claws, still half-unsheathed. 

A slow grin spread across his face. "Ohhh, you're *interesting*." 

Behind him, the city buzzed with life—but Annie's focus zeroed in on the castle's highest tower. A shadowed figure watched from the window. 

*Not a villain,* she reminded herself. *But not quite an ally either.* 

"Stay sharp," she murmured. 

As they crossed the threshold, the gates groaned shut behind them. 

And a ' no witches ' warning was seen when the doors shut down, but the group didn't see it , as they continued walking with Zayne's guide.