Chapter 6:confrontation

The room finally reached normal temperature. Alphi was trying to stay as calm as possible, trying not to raise her emotions again. But she thought to herself, Is this how I will live on? Do I have to fear my own emotions?

No, there has to be a way to control it. I could have died a few minutes ago. Imagine being killed by my feelings. She shook her head, trying to get the thought out of her head. She finally spoke, "It's just one problem after the other."

Alphi tried to think of her next course of action. Let's see… still no idea what to do with the ring. I found out that it glows when brought to my necklace, but no leads whatsoever. She took a deep, heavy breath. The whole thing was just too much—too many questions and no answers. Alphi was already irritated with the fact that after one week, she had no leads, and then the whole power mishap that occurred just made her feel worse. She sighed, "Maybe I missed something. Should I go back?"

Alphi was at war with her mind. She didn't know what to do, neither did she like going to that house. The house that she endured so much pain in. The house that was devoid of love. A cold shiver ran down her spine as memories of her childhood flowed through her mind—her unhappy childhood, the one in which she hardly smiled. It's not like she was overly happy now, but at least she was free. Free from torture and sad violence.

Alphi clenched her fist with resolve and determination. For some reason, she was afraid. She knew what she wanted, and she was going to get it—even if it meant confronting the man that made her life a living hell.

She suddenly felt hungry. She hadn't had a proper meal since she devoted her time to searching the books. She craved some stew—the flavorful stew that her aunt made while she was still here. Alphi used to love the stew so much—the flavor, the aroma, the heavenly balance between spice and herbs. Alphi suddenly exclaimed, "Well, seems like we're making stew today."

Alphi had seen her aunt make the stew multiple times, but of course, she had never made it. She went to the kitchen, trying her best to recreate her aunt's dish from nothing but her memory. At last, she was done, and of course, it looked nothing like her aunt's. She served herself the stew as she sat at the kitchen table. The stew wasn't good, but it wasn't terrible—at the very least, it was edible.

As Alphi ate it, tears ran down her eyes. The memories were so clear—memories of her aunt serving her the delicious stew as she eagerly waited at the kitchen table. She missed her aunt—the only person that cared, the only person that kept her sane.

Alphi declared, "Tomorrow, I shall continue my search."

She finished the stew and washed the dishes. Her body was a mess, so she had a bath. Alphi was drained and tired; she slept off almost immediately she lay on the bed. It was a long night—longer than most nights—but she didn't think much of it.

The next morning, she felt well-rested and determined to carry out the day's mission. She got dressed in an orange gown and wore some matching earrings; it went well with her red hair. Alphi admired herself in front of the mirror for a while and then said, "Time for the search."

As usual, she waited to hear her father leaving the house.

Bang! That was the sound the door made whenever her father left. As soon as Alphi heard it, she knew it was time. She waited a few more minutes to be sure he was out of sight, and then she went straight into action.

Alphi rushed out of her aunt's house and into her old home. As she opened the door, she was greeted by the usual unease. The house seemed to never change—the same rough orange paint, the same messy rooms, and the unforgettable smell of alcohol she could never figure out where he got from.

She went back to his room and searched it once more—nothing. Then she noticed the messy mattress wasn't sitting properly on the bed. Alphi tried to adjust it. As she did, she noticed there was something keeping the mattress from sitting on the bed.

What was it? Could this be a clue? she thought.

Her heart raced as she slid her hand beneath the mattress. She felt something—paper. Carefully, she pulled it out, trying not to tear the fragile sheet. It was an old application letter for a job at a bakery. The name at the bottom was slightly torn, but the beginning read "Eric—". She scanned the other documents, hoping to find the rest of the name, but it was pointless.

"Eric, huh," she said quietly. "So that's my dad's name. At least I've learned something."

From the document, it seemed he once owned a large restaurant and earned a lot of money. But the life he lived now was a sharp contrast to what the papers described. Alphi couldn't help but wonder—could her father be secretly rich? Was that why he never seemed to run out of alcohol?

More importantly, if he had that kind of money, why was he living here—like this—alone?

It didn't make sense.

She flipped through every single document. They all told the same story.

"This isn't going anywhere," Alphi muttered.

She didn't know what to do with what she had just discovered—or if any of it even mattered.

She took the ring out of the tiny pocket on her gown, just staring at it.

How can something so little cause me so much trouble?

Alphi began to play with the ring again, whispering to herself,

"Imagine me... the little poor girl who lives in the woods, the girl who barely ate each day, the girl who knew nothing about her parents—not even her own name until recently. A witch… with a rich father."

She smiled softly, but behind the smile was pain and tears.

"I don't even know where I stand… or what this mark on my shoulder means," Alphi said quietly.

She lay there, lost in thought, reflecting on her life—from the time in her father's house to the time in her aunt's. Everything she had discovered, she had done so on her own.

Time slipped away. It was almost as if she had fallen into a trance, wandering through another world—her own mind.

When she came back to her senses, it was already night.

She jumped up from the ground, realizing how much time she had lost. The place was a mess.

"I have to put everything back in place," she said, springing into action.By the time she was done, it was already too late.

As she reached for the handle, the door suddenly swung open.

Her eyes widened. Standing there was a figure she knew all too well—one she had hoped to avoid.

It was him.

Her father.