Chapter 18

  THE FAREWELL

  Cristina’s footsteps echoed against the cobblestones as the rain fell without mercy. She ran quickly, trying to avoid getting soaked, until she reached an ancient greenhouse. Inside it, a great flower—white as the moon—emitted a faint glow that illuminated the path toward an imposing door carved with golden runes.

  —Blood, flesh, and soul; magic endures while Hecate sleeps —Cristina recited firmly.

  As the words left her lips, the runes flared brightly, and the door slowly opened, releasing a soft whisper, as if centuries of silence were being set free.

  Beyond it stretched a dark corridor, dimly lit by bioluminescent fungi glowing in blue-green hues. At the end of the passage, Cristina found a hidden camp. The area was illuminated by plants of vibrant colors that radiated their own light, creating a magical atmosphere. Above her, an enchanted ceiling displayed a night sky that seemed as real as the one outside.

  Breathless, Cristina hurried toward one of the camp’s cabins. She threw the door open, dropped several heavy books onto the table, and bent over to catch her breath. Max, who had been waiting anxiously, stood up the moment he saw her.

  —What did you find? —he asked, unable to hide his excitement.

  —I managed to get the oldest books that exist on records of witch families —Cristina replied, gesturing toward the bulky tomes. Her eyes shone with the hope of having found something useful—. I also have news from my contacts: they found a lead in an old cabin south of the city. They’re investigating it right now. If everything goes well, we’ll know more soon.

  Max felt a knot tighten in his chest, a mix of excitement and nerves. Could this be the key to uncovering answers about his past and his family?

  They spent hours reviewing the books. Candles burned down slowly as pages rustled beneath their fingers. Just as exhaustion began to weigh on them, Max stopped short, pointing at a passage.

  —Here it is: the Hotsson family, a lineage of powerful witches linked to the Raven Clan. Respected by all covens, even by the Witch Council. It says… —he paused, reading carefully—. Eighteen years ago, the last witch of the lineage disappeared.

  Cristina took the book from his hands to check it herself.

  —It must be your mother —she affirmed, reading closely—. It says her disappearance happened right at the end of the War of Shadows.

  —What was that? —Max asked, feeling each new discovery raise even more questions.

  —Eighteen years ago, an archaic demon, one of the seven children of Lilith, tried to conquer the Mortal Realm. Ludlavon, Beasts, and angels formed an alliance to defeat him. It was a brutal war, with betrayals on both sides and countless losses. In the end, the Angelic Tribunal and the Witch Council found a way to contain DecHal. After his defeat, his followers scattered, hiding like rats in the shadows.

  Max frowned, trying to grasp the scale of what Cristina was describing. He couldn’t understand how a war of that magnitude had remained hidden from humanity.

  —Maybe your mother knew you would have magic and wanted to protect you from this world —Cristina ventured, looking at him with empathy—. It’s possible she sacrificed herself to keep you safe.

  Max lowered his gaze, clenching his fists.

  —Sometimes I wonder… if I had grown up knowing about my magic, would I be stronger now? Would I be able to face Sabine? —he said, frustration bleeding into his voice.

  Cristina placed a hand on his shoulder.

  —We haven’t lost this war yet, Max. And you don’t have to fight alone; we’re a team. We always will be —she assured him, pulling him into a gentle embrace.

  Max took a deep breath, letting her words bring him a measure of comfort.

  —Let’s keep going. What is the Raven Clan? —he asked, clinging to the new information.

  —It was a group created centuries ago by the Witch Council. They were witches trained in infiltration and the elimination of high-level demonic threats. If your mother belonged to that clan, it would explain a lot. Think about it: a lifetime spent hunting powerful beings, even princes of Hell, would have put her on a blacklist. If they knew about you, as her son, you would have been an immediate target.

  Cristina’s words struck him like a torrent. Max covered his face with his hands.

  —The more I learn about this supernatural world, the more I want to go back to my life as a human. A normal life… —he admitted in a devastated whisper.

  Cristina looked at him with sadness.

  —I’m sorry… —she said before leaving the cabin, leaving him alone.

  Some time later, exhausted by the intensity of the day, Max let himself fall onto the bed. Darkness wrapped around him as fatigue overtook him, carrying him into the refuge of sleep.

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  Max awoke abruptly. Laura, agitated and torn between excitement and nerves, was shaking him insistently.

  —Get up, now! You have to see them —she said, barely giving him time to understand what was happening.

  Without wasting another second, they left the cabin. As they crossed the threshold, Max froze at the sight before him: three majestic figures with enormous wings of radiant white. The light surrounding them made it hard to look at them directly. Madame Liona, with her characteristic composure, stepped forward and greeted them politely. The woman leading the group—clearly the leader—returned the gesture firmly, though her eyes soon settled on Max with a gaze that filled him with intrigue.

  —Mom… —Gabriel’s voice broke the silence. He emerged from among those present and took his place beside Max.

  The woman looked at him, and her face—serene until that moment—hardened into a mask of fury and disappointment.

  —Gabriel Berht —she pronounced his name harshly—. It’s fortunate that the spell on your headmaster dissipated in time to alert me, but you, from the very beginning, should have rejected that absurd offer.

  Gabriel lowered his gaze, like a child caught in a misdeed.

  —I just… I just wanted to know my father’s world —he said, his voice full of insecurity.

  Those words seemed to surprise his mother. She hadn’t known of that longing, and for an instant, her expression softened.

  —Relax, your boy knows how to defend himself —Melody interrupted casually, trying to ease the tension.

  The woman let out a sarcastic laugh that echoed coldly.

  —Defend himself? My son shouldn’t even be in a situation where he needs to. Since he arrived here, he’s faced dangers that nearly killed him. I don’t understand what kind of chaos is unfolding in the Mortal Realm, but this ends now. Gabriel, we’re leaving.

  The severity of her tone made it clear there was no room for discussion.

  —Wait… —Max’s voice rose, slightly trembling. He knew he shouldn’t interrupt, but something far more important was at stake—. I understand Gabriel has to go, but before that, could we talk about Sabine?

  Ann, the leader of the angels, fixed her gaze on him, as if trying to read his soul.

  —Who are you? —she asked, not bothering to hide her distrust.

  —Max Hotsson, pleased to meet you —he replied, extending his hand with a formality that felt out of place in that moment.

  The gesture went unanswered. Something about the name darkened Ann’s expression.

  —Hotsson? —she repeated, almost with disdain—. I don’t know who Sabine is, and she’s not our problem. It’s a war of witches, not angels.

  Max frowned, unable to comprehend the indifference in her words.

  —What? You’re just going to leave us alone? —he exclaimed, his voice heavy with disbelief—. Innocent women are dying at the hands of Sabine and her followers. You can’t just ignore that.

  Ann looked at him coldly.

  —I am Ann Berht, member of the Angelic Tribunal. My priority is the protection of Heaven and our own. Mortals die every minute; it’s inevitable. Even if I could intervene, I will not endanger my realm for witches.

  Her words fell like a hammer, freezing the air. Gabriel stepped forward, desperate.

  —Mom, please… We can’t leave them to die here. —He turned to Miriam, the second angelic figure, seeking support—. Miriam, please, make her see reason.

  The woman, with a firm bearing and curly hair, remained still for a moment before replying in a deep voice.

  —Gabriel, your mother is right. I’m sorry, little one, but this battle is not ours.

  Without further preamble, Miriam approached Cristina and, with a swift movement, fastened golden cuffs around her wrists, glowing with divine light.

  —Cristina Collins, you are under arrest by the Angelic Tribunal for the crime of treason, for using your magic against an angelic being.

  —Hey! Can we talk about this? —Laura demanded, stepping forward, her face blazing with fury. Her nails lengthened, turning into sharp claws.

  Ann looked at her with a warning that was more threat than advice.

  —Girl, I suggest you control yourself, or you’ll go with her.

  Laura stepped back, though her eyes still burned with contained rage.

  —It’s alright, guys. This is my punishment. —Cristina offered them one last smile before Miriam shoved her toward the portal.

  —Mom, please… stop this. She’s my friend. —Gabriel’s voice trembled as he pleaded, his eyes full of desperation.

  Ann, unmoved, stared at him sternly. Her patience, already worn thin, finally snapped.

  —I’m tired of talking, Gabriel. Step through now, or I will drag you back to Heaven.

  Her words allowed no argument; the firmness of her tone was an unbreakable sentence.

  Watching Gabriel’s anguish, Max felt a knot tighten in his chest. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and wrapped him in a tight embrace, as if that gesture could stop the inevitable.

  —I love you. Don’t forget that. —His voice was a whisper heavy with restrained emotion. Then, before letting him go, Max cupped his face and gave him one last kiss, laden with farewell and unspoken promises.

  When they parted, Gabriel looked at him with eyes shining with tears he refused to let fall.

  Ann, who had watched the exchange with a mix of disbelief and contempt, fixed her burning gaze on Max. Her eyes seemed to blaze with silent fury, as if she wanted to destroy him on the spot. Without a word, she extended a hand toward Gabriel, who took it with resignation.

  The portal—a structure of white stone etched with glowing runes—began to shine intensely as they stepped through it, and as it started to close, Ann, without taking her eyes off Max, made it clear that this farewell would be final.

  The portal left behind only a massive stone and a shattering silence.

  —How are we going to save Cristina? —Laura asked, her voice rough and resolute.

  —Laura… —Melody looked at her with eyes full of sorrow—. There’s nothing we can do. Interfering with Cristina’s sentence would start a war against the angels. Our hands are tied.

  —No! —Laura shouted, claws bursting from her hands as her eyes ignited in furious red—. There’s always a way! —After taking a deep breath, she returned to normal and, without another word, withdrew, slamming the door of her cabin shut.

  Madame Liona sighed, watching her go.

  —She needs time. In the end, she’ll understand —she said, her tone a blend of resignation and hope.

  Max, meanwhile, remained motionless before the now-inactive portal, his eyes studying the golden runes. Melody and Madame Liona watched him in silence, understanding that he was trying to decipher the undecipherable.

  —Max, don’t strain yourself —Madame Liona placed a hand on his shoulder—. Those are angelic runes. Only angels can activate them; not even the most powerful witch can make them work.

  Madame Liona’s voice wavered slightly as she continued.

  —Loss hurts, but we need everyone focused on what’s coming. Many have died: Tory, Julia… so many sisters who fought bravely. We cannot allow their sacrifices to be in vain.

  Max nodded, though inside, his heart burned with the need to act.

  —Alright, Madame Liona —he replied, hiding his true intention.