75 The Pure White Witch
Selma Payne’s POV:
Aldrich hugged me tightly. He looked like he wanted to melt me into his bones and blood.
We fell into a sea of daisies, hand in hand, head to head, like newborn wolf cubs taking warmth from each other.
“Flowers in winter. This is amazing.” I picked up a petal. “Actually, sorcery isn’t completely useless, is it? At the very least, it allows one to feel the warmth of spring in the harsh winter.”
Aldrich plucked a purple daisy and put it on my ear, gently saying, “That’s right. How can there be so many good and bad things in the world? Unfortunately, there are only a few evil witches and wizards, just like the dead leaves in the stream.
“However, these rare dead leaves are the most eye-catching, so much so that when people mention streams, they think of dead leaves, and no one cares about the clear water and fresh fish.”
I thought of Dorothy, that silent but kind and determined girl.
She felt inferior about her blood, but the witch’s blood did not turn her into a bad person who would commit all kinds of evil. Instead, it gave her a delicate and sharp heart.
However, few werewolves liked witches, and even Dorothy’s family did not seem very kind to her. So the innocent girl could only carry the secret and move forward, constantly fearfully observing whether this not-so-warm world showed any malice toward her.
There was also Carolyn, the girl who might have been controlled or possessed by a witch.
I knew there was a reason for this. So no matter what, I couldn’t push the blame onto Carolyn. However, when I thought of her pestering my lover, I couldn’t help but feel annoyed.
Toward Carolyn, and toward the witches.
This was a form of venting my anger. I understood that, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“Speaking of witches, this is a sensitive topic.” Aldrich said, “You know the legendary wizard Fitch, right? The southern Duke became a famous warrior because he killed him.
“The demon who killed more than 300 werewolves in the Backwater War? Of course, I know. This notorious sorcerer is probably stuck under the feet of all the families.”
The Backwater War had been around for over twenty years. It originated from the old grudge between the werewolves and the sorcerers and the insatiable expansion mentality of some sorcerers. In this war, my grandparents, who were in their prime, died. At the same time, my father, the southern Duke, Duke Frank, and others were also famous for their heroic performance in the war.
“Actually, this is only part of the truth,” Aldrich said. “Do you want to hear what happened back then?”
Of course, I wanted to. Unfortunately, the dry praises in the textbooks were not relatable at all.
“Back then, my father was ordered to join the army with the southern Duke. On the way, he captured, or rather, saved a witch who was on the verge of death. She was a rare ‘pure white witch’, meaning that all the sorcery she had mastered was healing and not invasive.
“This ‘pure white witch’ saved many people, be it witches, wizards, or werewolves. Gradually, everyone let down their guard and sincerely accepted her, including my father and the southern Duke.
“However, the war was still going on, and there can never be true peace between the two races. When my father and the southern Duke let their guards down the most, Fitch secretly contacted a few of the radical sorcerers in the captive camp. They attacked us from the inside and outside, killing 346 werewolves, including soldiers and ordinary citizens. They caused our army to be defeated, and our capital city, also known as the Lycan Pack, was almost breached.
“It was also during this period that the relationship between the werewolves and the sorcerers worsened. All the captives were killed except for a pure white witch. She was spared after the southern Duke pleaded for her life. The price was that she swore to Moon Goddess and satan that she would never use witchcraft again.
“On the day of the final battle, the southern Duke used an arm, an eye, and a leg as the price to defeat Fitch and successfully killed him. However, his injuries were too severe, and he wouldn’t live for long.
“In the nick of time, the pure white witch broke her oath and used sorcery to exchange her life with the southern Duke’s to save him. She was killed by Moon Goddess’ blessings and satan’s punishment.
“When the southern Duke was young, he was an extreme radical. After the incident with the pure white witch, his attitude gradually eased. He became completely different from when he was young, at least in my father’s opinion.”
A pure white witch…
This was a story that was easy to understand. Although it was not explicitly stated, it was obvious that the southern Duke and the pure white witch were probably in love. Otherwise, who would plead for mercy on behalf of a witch who belonged to a hostile force that had killed hundreds of his compatriots? Who would be willing to use their lives as the price to save the life of a werewolf who caused their pack’s cause to fall short?
It was ill-fated and nothing more than this.