88 Settlement
Dorothy’s POV:
Even though I’d been training for half a year, I still felt intense nervousness when I entered the king’s reception room as a servant.
Winking, speaking riddles, going in and out of the room while providing service, and setting up magic circles were done very well.
I racked my brain to remember these obscure and rigid scribbles. I only hoped to finish them quickly before my memory messed up.
Just as I was about to wrap things up, I was interrupted. The head servant brought me bad news. Carolyn was already suspicious.
I had to quickly end the curse-breaking process to prevent her from finding out.
Fortunately, the elders’ cooperation bought me enough time. After that, I successfully helped the southern Duke remove the surveillance spell and replaced it with a reverse interference spell.
The mission was completed perfectly. The King complimented me kindly and suggested that I transfer to a sorcery academy.
“Your talent is very rare even among the orthodox witches,” the kind elder said, thinking for me. “It’s your freedom to make full use of it. I hope it can become your wings to fly high.”
A pair of wings that spread its wings and flew high?
I lowered my head and thought to myself.
Perhaps, it was just a shackle deep in my bone marrow.
“Thank you for your kindness, but I’m interested in history,” I declined politely. “I think it’s more suitable for me to be a historian.”
The Lycan King did not try to persuade me anymore. He only told Selma to send me home.
We walked on a small road on the outskirts. Selma looked as if she wanted to say something but stopped herself. I waited for a while, but she did not know how to start. Thus, I said first, “Do you have anything to say?”
“Oh…” She nodded in a dilemma. “Yes, Dorothy.”
“Then, there’s no need to hold back. Please speak.”
“Well, I don’t mean to point fingers,” Selma tidied her hair and said softly. “But why don’t you accept the Lycan King’s suggestion? You’re very talented, Dorothy. Even I can see that, not to mention the werewolf grandmasters who are full of praise for you. You’ll make great achievements in witchcraft.”
I smiled and shook my head. “This isn’t really pointing fingers. I didn’t choose this path because I didn’t want to. Talent doesn’t decide everything, right? The path of history is more suitable for me, and my family thinks so too.”
“But you like to study sorcery. I can see that,” Selma said. “Do you know when I see you smile the most? During the sorcery class. Be it listening to classes, practicing, or doing research, there is always a smile playing on your lips. This is completely different from you in the Sivir Academy. You love magic from the bottom of your heart because it makes you happy.”
‘Does witchcraft make me happy?’
I was stunned.
This was a question I’d never thought about.
From the moment I was born, my witch’s bloodline seemed only to bring me pain. The scolding from my family, the cold looks from my classmates, the self-loathing, and the tragedy of my life were all because of my body’s half-witch bloodline.
How could magic make me happy?
I should hate it. I should hate this derivative of the witch’s blood.
“Did you find anything? You always unconsciously pay attention to everything related to magic.” Selma continued, “Before your bloodline awakens, you loved to read books on philosophy and history. However, after your bloodline awakened, you always held all sorts of research notes and books about witchcraft in your hands, so much so that Mara and Avril thought you’d chosen to take classes in this area!”
“That’s just… Just some books I picked up… ” I mumbled.
This wasn’t right!
I suddenly felt very frustrated.
Witches and witchcraft only brought about pain in the past nineteen years of my life!
Why would I like it? What was this? Stockholm Syndrome on an academic level?
The depression in my chest was getting increasingly intense, and I realized I was gasping for air like a fish in the desert. Selma was frightened by me. She quickly helped me to sit on the grass by the side of the road and helped me rub my chest.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She said anxiously, “I shouldn’t have told you this. Oh my god! Just take it as I’m talking nonsense and forget it, Moon Goddess. I’m such an idiot!”
I tried my best to suck in every bit of oxygen in the air and suddenly laughed out loud.
“You’re not wrong, Selma. It’s just that I’ve been avoiding it.”
That was right. I’d been running away. I’d been running away from my bloodline, talent, and the scales that had long tilted in my heart.
I always find many excuses for myself, such as my father, whom I’d never met, my irascible grandmother, and the memory of being tortured by hot silver when I was a child.
But did these excuses make me feel any better?
No, they didn’t.
They were just a match on a winter night, disappearing after providing a little warmth. I still had to face this icy cold world of wind blades and frost swords.
It was too cold and too tiring. I didn’t dare to fight against the wind and snow, so I could only pretend that I didn’t have the ability and silently wait for the judgment of the harsh winter.
However, the wind was already so cold, and the snow was already so heavy. So why didn’t I stand up, give the raging blizzard the middle finger, and say, ‘Go to hell’?
I should reconcile with myself.
I thought.
I’d listened to what many people had said and been a marionette for so long. Now, it was time for me to listen to myself.