Oryen returned to the cottage late that night, her steps slow and measured as her thoughts buried themselves deep within her mind. The forest was quiet, unnaturally so, as though it sensed the weight of what she carried. She had missed her duties at the castle again, something she rarely allowed, but today had not been ordinary. She had spent the hours digging through half-forgotten records, listening to whispers of myths she once dismissed as foolish stories told to frighten apprentices. She was lucky—dangerously lucky—that she had remembered the spell when she did. If she hadn't, she doubted she would still be breathing.
In her old age, Oryen had stopped believing in legends. She had seen too much, learned too much, to accept myths without proof. Yet today, that belief had shattered the moment she witnessed the girl lift her into the air with no incantation, no conscious effort, no mastery. Raw power had surged from Dydra like a living thing. It was impossible. No common witch possessed such strength.
The power had to be inherited.
There was no other explanation.
For a witch to wield magic that vast, both parents would have to come from powerful bloodlines. Judging by the girl's features—dark skin kissed by the sun, ocean-blue eyes that seemed far too ancient for her age, and red-brown hair that caught the light like embers—there was little doubt. She was Okitu.
Oryen's chest tightened at the realization.
From all she had learned over the years, only two covens bore such remarkable power: the Okitu and the Inui. The balance of the world rested on them. One governed the natural forces—earth, growth, life itself—while the other commanded the supernatural, the unseen, the forces that bent reality. Alone, each coven was incomplete. Together, they maintained equilibrium.
If magic was performed without balance, darkness would bleed into the Okitu, intoxicating them, corrupting their gifts, turning protectors into monsters. The elders of both covens had learned this the hard way centuries ago. Unable to summon every member whenever magic was required, they created a law that could not be broken.
Darkness must walk with light.
Light must walk with darkness.
Each witch was paired—one Okitu, one Inui. No witch was permitted to stand alone. Without balance, their power would fluctuate, weaken, or spiral out of control.
Oryen was Inui.
The Inui were known for their snow-pale skin, raven-black hair, and ocean-blue eyes that mirrored the frost and night they commanded. Her Okitu partner had been murdered years ago by a night creature that still haunted her dreams. After that loss, her magic began to fade. It weakened, fractured, and eventually became unstable. That was why the spell she had cast on the wood-covered book had backfired. She simply wasn't whole anymore.
Now, she could only perform minor magic—teleportation, illusions, concealments. Powerful spells were beyond her reach. No matter how strong a witch was, without their counterpart, true magic was impossible.
That was why she had gone searching for answers.
How could a young witch, untrained and unaware, lift her into the air? How could Dydra wield magic she hadn't learned, hadn't summoned? And worse still—if Oryen hadn't intervened in time, the girl might have destroyed herself. The ache she'd sensed in Dydra's stomach was another warning sign. Power was building where it shouldn't. It was dangerous.
Oryen's feet touched the cold wooden floor of the cottage, the boards creaking softly beneath her weight. She paused in front of the door where she had placed the girl, lifting her hand and pressing her palm against the oak. Closing her eyes, she reached out with her senses, searching for Dydra's energy.
A frown creased her face.
The girl was right against the door.
Did she know she was coming?
If so, Oryen would need to act quickly. She snapped her fingers, and the world folded in on itself. In the blink of an eye, she vanished from the hallway and reappeared inside the room.
She expected screams. Panic. Fear.
Instead, the room was quiet.
Soft snores drifted from Dydra's lips. Oryen's shoulders eased slightly as her gaze fell on the girl slumped against the door, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Sleep had claimed her where exhaustion had won.
Oryen's expression softened.
She moved closer and squatted beside the girl, reaching out to lift her. The moment she tried, her arms trembled. Dydra was heavier than she looked. With a sigh, Oryen withdrew her hands.
Then understanding dawned.
Dydra was Okitu.
She was Inui.
Together, they could perform true magic.
Murmuring under her breath, Oryen shaped the spell carefully. Almost instantly, Dydra's body lifted into the air, weightless and serene, her breathing undisturbed. With gentle motions, Oryen guided her to the bed, lowering her as though she were made of glass. She tucked the covers around her, ensuring she was warm and safe.
Turning to leave, Oryen froze.
Whispers slipped from the girl's lips.
"No… no, no, not again…"
Her voice trembled with fear. Sweat beaded on her skin as her body shook, chest rising and falling erratically. Her face twisted in distress. Oryen's heart clenched painfully.
A nightmare.
Stepping closer, Oryen placed her palm against Dydra's forehead and closed her eyes. The spell flowed easily this time, smooth and balanced. Slowly, the girl's words faded. Her breathing steadied. The tension left her face, replaced with fragile calm.
Oryen leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
Blowing out a few candles, she added wood to the dying fire, ensuring warmth would last through the night. With one last look at the sleeping girl, she turned and slipped quietly from the room.
The balance had begun to shift.
And nothing would ever be the same again