Ch. 44

“The Warning”

“His name is Zanir,” I whisper, as if speaking it aloud would solidify something I am not ready to face. “He controlled shadows, not just commanded them, but wielded them as if they were threads of his own soul — alive and obedient to his every thought, for the most part. But he was… different. Powerful, dangerous, and so familiar, like a song I couldn’t quite place, but the melody teased in my mind knowing I have heard it before. Even when my instincts screamed at me to turn away, every step toward him felt unavoidable, like I was walking on the edge of a memory I could almost reach.”

I pause, my hands trembling slightly as fragmented images flit through my mind — a memory too visceral to ever ignore again.

—

His lips on mine. A sudden heat, like fire blazing in the cold. The press of his hands, firm yet reverent, tracing the length of my spine as if memorizing every curve. Blood — still hot, sticky, mine and a beast’s — binding us in a way words never could. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was something more, something eternal.

—

The memory fades as quickly as it came, leaving me breathless, my pulse thrumming. “I couldn’t resist him. It felt like I had known him, long, long before that moment.”

Oana’s gaze doesn’t waver. She watches me intently, her eyes keen, taking in every subtle shift — every breath that catches in my chest, every fleeting moment of hesitation. She knows me too well. I feel my pulse quicken under her scrutiny, but I can’t pull away. She has that effect on me.

“A force so strong you couldn’t turn away,” she says softly, almost like she is echoing my own thoughts. “How did it feel, truly, when you met him?” Her voice is steady, but there’s something else behind it — an understanding that forces me to confront more than I would with anyone else.

I glance down at my hands, gripping my knees to my chest as if that could how all my broken pieces together. My heart is pounding, and I know Oana can probably hear it. I breathe in deeply, my voice lowering. “Like being drawn to the night itself.” My words slipping into a quiet hum. “I can’t explain it… Every beat of my wings, something called to me. A part of me — something ancient — knew I had to follow. When I looked into her eyes, it was like staring into a reflection of myself, like all of time was crammed into that single moment. Like the wind whispered our name together long ago, and now they are yelling, calling us to find each other again.”

I can still feel the pull even in here — the intensity of it. Maybe it was reckless. Foolish, even. A part of me wonders if it was just that — an impulsive recklessness that comes from being starved for something real, something I didn’t even know I was missing. But that damn pull — Nyx, it was stronger than my doubt, stronger than my fear. It was as if every fiber of my being needed to follow him that night.

Oana arches an eyebrow, a playful glint dances in her blue eyes as her lips curl into a teasing smile. “Drawn to a man cloaked in shadows? Really, Mi? In the Endless Forest, of all places?” She shakes her head, the smirk never leaving her face. “You’ve always had a knack for finding trouble, haven’t you? I swear, you thrive on it. One of the reason I like you.” Her tone is light, but there’s an evident spark of amusement in her voice, as though she’s seen this pattern before. She pauses, her eyes tendering for a second, before she continues, like she is remembering something before her tone a touch more honest. “But I get it. He sounds intriguing, I’ll give you that. I can see why someone like him would leave an impression.”

Her voice trails off, and for a moment, I think she is lost in her thoughts, but then her eyes cut, locking onto mine as her nose flares. It is the kind of look that makes me feel like she’s leisurely peeling back layers I’m not ready to reveal. Sounds like someone else I know.

I run my hand over my shoulder and look away from her, trying to steady myself because I know she’ll get all out of me, eventually. “You always do this, don’t you?” I mumble, and she doesn’t miss a beat.

“I know you too well, Mi,” she says, “You’ve always had this way of gravitating toward… the unknown, the different, and, well, chaos. And chaos does have its appeal, I will agree. Maybe that’s why you’re drawn to him, to Zanir. The shadows — darkness — they’re not just a physical thing, are they? You thrive in them. Because that’s all you have ever wanted. To just be, to just exist within the background, within the shadows, not in the center of the goddess Sunna’s rays for everyone to see, to need, to rule.”

Her words settle in the space between us, an unspoken truth that I have battled alone, and of course she knew. I always hated being behind the wards to be truly alone. I would watch from my window, and wonder what it would be like to be just a normal person in the busy market, the baker making fresh bread, the little girl chasing some boys around the fountain, the sable boy guiding the horses before their training, not someone controlled by powers that threat to control them, or treated as a namesake to a dominating Queen. Just to be and live. The weight of her words and my thoughts make me hesitate, unsure how to respond.

Then, just as quickly as the moment passes, Oana's expression turns focused, her own thought racing to be the first one through her beautiful face. “But when you said he controlled shadows… What exactly did you mean?” she presses, the concern forming a harsh line between her brows.

I clasp my hands together, twisting them as if trying to wring out the words. “He threatened me, well, kind of… said I would make a nice snack.” I pause, the memory flaring to life, sharp and vivid, pulling at something deep inside me. A thrill and fear tangled together, inseparable. My voice falters, and I glance away. “Because… well, he was a vampire.”

Oana’s eyes widen, her composed demeanor shatters, like it does when I am around. “Wait — what?” she exclaims, her voice rising in disbelief. “You’re telling me that, out of all the things to find in the Endless Forest, you stumbled upon a vampire? And you didn’t kill him? Mihaela, you have the strangest way of finding the most dangerous things imaginable!” She throws her hands up, half in exasperation and in disbelief, but her tone softens, as a grin tinged with curiosity moves across her face. “A vampire… or was a vampire… so what happened?”

I can’t help the faint, wry smile tugging at my lips. “I almost did kill him,” I admit. “I could feel my power rising under my skin, all that secrecy and potential I have fought so hard to control. His life force called to me, and for a moment, I thought I would let it happen. But…” My voice drops, my hands twisting tighter as I try to wring out the truth. “I didn’t. I stopped. I don’t know why, but something made me hold back.”

Oana stares at me, her face a mix of awe and concern. “Mihaela, I… I don’t know what to say. You stopped. You could have ended him, but you didn’t.”

I nod, glancing away as I speak, my words spilling out in a rush, like they do when Oana is around. “And when I stopped, it was like something inside him broke. His shadows — those living extensions of himself — they disappeared. His vampiric strength, his speed, his… power — all of it was gone. He was just a mortal. Just a man. For a moment, it felt like I had stripped him of everything that made him what he was.”

Oana’s blue eyes narrow, that harsh line back between her brows. “That’s… different. That shouldn’t happen. Have you ever stopped before?”

“I was never given the chance.” I say quickly, a hint if unease creeping up my throat. “But he didn’t stay that way for long. He didn’t become a vampire again, but something changed. He started remembering things — memories from hundreds of years ago. He didn’t need blood anymore. I watched him eat food like it was something long forgotten, not tasting it in centuries. I don’t understand what I did to him, but…” I trail off, shaking my head.

Oana speaks her voice as soft like it normally is with me, and her thirsty curiosity woven into it. “And he just… let you do this? Let you take that power from him?”

“I wasn’t like that,” I say, frowning. “I think he was just as shocked as I was. He could’ve easily hurt me, but I feel like something was also holding him back. But after everything, we made a deal. I would bring him to the clan — to Mother. He would give us information about the vampiric clans, and what is happening around us, and in return, Mother might be able to give him his powers back.” I hesitate, the next words tasting bitter on my tongue. “I agreed because I thought it would show I could be useful. I could control myself, my powers. I can show my worth.” The next part nearly makes me gag, but I push through it because Oana will get it out of one or another, and this way is less painful than a hex doll. “I also thought this may be a way to learn more about him, what centuries of time could mean, about the draw I feel toward him, maybe even why I couldn’t just kill him.” The confession lingers in the air and it feels like it may burn me.

Oana studies me, “Mihaela…” she says, “You’re drawn to disarray. You thrive in it, and somehow you always find a way to make it more interesting.” She pauses, tilting her head. “But a vampire who controlled shadows, whose powers you took, has been around for hundreds of years, and as a pull on you? That is not just interesting — that is a mystery. One that needs to be solved.”

The storm behind claps and I jump. I am reminded that it could take over at any moment, but it is Oana’s blurry hand waving at me that brings my attention back.

“Mihaela, I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.” Oana’s voice is gentle, interweaved with the compassion that in ingrained deep within her. “I know what she would make you do and how that made you feel… But whatever held you back, made you choose not to do it… that is something you should listen to.” Her hand reaches out instinctively, even though she knows it will pass through me, and when her fingers do, she simply smiles — a quiet reassurance that her words carry their own weight. “Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was something more. But you followed that feeling, and that takes courage too.”

Her words stir something within me, and the storm changes, rain begins to fall on the distance mountains, loosening the knot that’s been coiled tight in my chest.

“You’ve always been strong, Mihaela. Even when you don’t see it. Even when everything feels like it’s falling apart. You have this strength — this stubborn, infuriating strength — that pushes you to keep trying.” Her voice dips, carrying a sorrowful undertone. “I know what she made you do. How she twisted your powers into a blade, wielding you to cut down anything that stood in her way, even if that was you.”

I swallow hard, images flash quickly in mind — unwelcomed memories of Mother’s cold orders her sharp mauve eyes, and her cruel intent. The lives I have taken because she commanded it, because she expected it, because I was raised to be a pawn.

Oana's voice pulls me out of the growing spiral. “But you are more than what your Mother required, Mihaela. And you proved it by choosing to stop, to pull back when you didn’t have to.”

I look up, meeting her grounding gaze. The storm’s rain pours, the sound filling the void around me, and I can breathe again.

Oana tilts her head, her lips curving into a faint smile. “And as much as you hate admitting it, you’re brave. Stupidly brave sometimes, but brave all the same.”

A breath escapes me, half a laugh, half a sob. She always knows exactly what to say, to remind me I am not just the monster, uncontrollable girl I sometimes see in myself.

I feel the knot inside me, even further as I press on, determined to tell her everything. “Before all that, I did follow him,” I admit, “I wanted to know what he was doing, why someone like him was in the Endless Forest in the first place.”

Oana raises an eyebrow, leaning forward. “And? What did you find?”

My words halt, catching in my throat. The memory feels alive, and just as unsettling as it did that night. “He was meeting with Muma Padurii.”

If Oana’s eyes could be any bigger, they would be. Her composure momentarily falters, and she leans back almost too far. Exhaling as if the name itself carried a chill. “The Muma herself?” Her voice drops to a reverent whisper, as if merely uttering the title could summon the forest’s matriarch. “Mihaela… do you understand what that means?”

I raise a brow, my tone dry. “More now than I did then.”

Oana’s eyes turn distant, as if reaching into her own vast knowledge, the inherited wisdom of generations of witches before her. For as long as I have known her, Oana has been more than just a friend — she is a light I can follow, someone with a deep understanding of forces most can barely grasp. And to her, Muma Padurii isn’t just a legend. She is a being of power that even Oana, with her considerable strength and knowledge, would tread carefully around.

“You saw her, Mi,” Oana says, awe woven in each word. “The mother of the forest, the one who commands it as if it were her own breath… the one who made it. To cross paths with Muma Padurii… it’s a sign, a warning, a test all at once.” Her icy eyes fill with worry as she pieces it together. “And you said she was with him? Zanir?”

“She spoke to him,” I say, recalling the moment. “Something about someone who would come to him, that they would forest would heal, and that they are more that they realize.”

“A prophecy, perhaps. One of her own design.” Oana leans closer, the intensity in her eyes piercing, as if her own magic sense what lies between my words. “You realize, don’t you, Mihaela? If Muma spoke this… then whatever she sees, it is bigger than either of us. And she’s aligning herself with this Zanir… and you.”

Her words trail off, but I know what she is thinking. Muma Padurii wouldn’t ally with just anyone. Her intentions are steeped in powers older and more complex than we can imagine.

Oana’s smile, “Now, keep going. What happened next?”

I try to keep my voice leveled, but I can’t shake the tremor that slips through. “And then there were the creatures I fought, Oana. A Samca… and a damn dragon, a Balaur. Both of them were out of place, and wrong. They had these strange markings — binding runes.” I extend my arm, revealing the haunting ink of the Samca permanently etched onto my wrist. “Whoever cast those powers…”

Oana’s eyes darken, her brow knitting as she lean in, absorbing every detail. “Binding runes…” she whispers, “they’re ancient, and the art of crafting them was said to be lost. If someone or something wields that kind of magic to bind creatures like that, they’re not just powerful — they’re dealing in forces few dare to touch because it demands sacrifices many aren’t willing to make, life and one sanity. This kind of power, this magic —” She pauses, her eyes darting as she works through her thoughts. “It goes far beyond what most witches or wizards would even think to attempt.”

Her words settle heavily between us, but there’s more I need to say. “That is not all, not even close.” My voice catches in my throat. “Zanir told us, people are also going missing… and creature are disappearing. It is as if something is pulling them away, taking them.”

Oana’s gaze grows distant. “What Muma Padurii said.”

I let out a slow breath, trying to keep up with Oana. “She told Zanir that she was sending someone to him. That this person would heal the forest… and that they were more than they realized.” My voice wavers, because I am trying to live in a delusion that this was all just so big a coincidence, but the way Oana is looking at me makes my chest fall. “Oana, the forest is breaking. Its creatures are being bound and taken, and so are creature elsewhere. Whatever Muma meant… it’s connected.”

Oana’s face freezes in mid thought. “Mi,” she whispers, her tone heavy with a realization I would rather ignore. “The forest called to you, didn’t it? When you left the castle, you told me it felt like it was… alive. Like it moved with you, responded to you.”

I nod slowly, “It did. It led me to Zanir. And since then, I have felt… like it tied me to something.”

Her eyes snap back to mine, her intensity nearly making me flinch. “That’s because it did. The moment you were free of your mother’s grasp, the forest finally had the chance to reach you. It’s always been calling to you, Mi. You just couldn’t hear it before.”

I freeze at her words, my breath catching in my throat. “Don’t say it.”

“Mi,” she cuts in, her tone firm. “I think Muma meant you. It’s not just about Zanir, or the forest, or even the people or creatures being taken. It’s about you. She was speaking of you.”

I blink at her, disbelief swirling in my chest. “Oana, come on. Me? Why me?" Of all people and even things.”

She leans closer, and I’m glad she can’t touch me because she’d be shaking my shoulders if she could. “Because the forest has always been tied to you. You read every book, multiple times, even. You dreamed about it. So, truly think about it. Use that beautiful brain of yours. The moment you neared it, it called to you, moved with you in the sky, led you where you needed to go. It’s as if it’s been waiting for you. And now, as your memories come back… as you begin to see who you really are… it all makes sense. Muma saw you for what you are — even if you didn’t let.”

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. “Oh, fantastic. Let’s just pile that onto everything else, shall we? Sure, why not? Fix the forest, Mihaela. Heal the ancient magical balance. No bid deal, right?” My voice is laced with as much sarcasm as I can muster up as I add, “Can we maybe choose someone else? I think I’ll pass.”

Oana’s lips twitch into a faint smile, but her expression remains earnest if though my voice tickles a foreign humor within her. “You might not have a choice in this, Mi. And yes, I know that’s not fair. But the forest isn’t just breaking, it’s begging, and it reached out to you. And maybe it always has been.”

I let out a shaky sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. “If you’re right — and I am not saying you are — but if you were… What does that even mean? Where does one even start? How am I supposed to help a forest while people and creatures are being taken? Bound even. I can’t even remember part of myself, of my life, and I am expected to just take this on, too? I don’t even know where I would even begin.” The storm rain still falls, but I can hear the thunder starting to boom again.

“You start by being exactly who you are — someone who doesn’t give up, no matter how overwhelming things get. You’ve already faced creatures bound by ancient magic, stood before Muma herself and a vampire, you are piecing your past together, you are not being defined by you powers, and you have made it this far. Be the dragon. Untamed and wild. Like you have always been when everything else told you not. That tells me you have everything you need to figure this out. And you’re not alone in this, Mi. I with in this. Always. Plus, I have some built up rage that needs an outlet.” She laughs, one of her genuine laughs that makes me smile.

“Of topic, but not truly. I took your words to heart. I fought the Baluar… as a Baluar… a dragon.” I look down at my curled knees close to my chest and laugh at how exhilarating it felt shifting and having my form filling something so potent and free.

Oana's laughter grows. “See Mi, you have alway been strong and mighty. Too bad I wasn’t there to see it.”

Her laugh steadies, as it always does. I nod, taking a deep breath. “There’s more. There are powerful players in this world, Oana. And they are seem to be pretty closely connected.” I whisper, feeling like I am still unearthing a forbidden truth. “Devlyn mentioned that Mother met with Leshy. And after I stumbled upon a vampire and Muma Padurii… it feels too deliberate to be coincidence.”

“Devlyn told you that?” Oana raises her eyebrows, surprise flashing across her face. She hesitates, her fingers drumming against her arm. “Devlyn’s loyalty has always been to the clan and to your mother. If she’s sharing that with you, that’s… strange. Suspicious even. She’s not the type to spill secrets lightly.”

“Oana. It’s like she… fear me now. Like I’ve become something she doesn’t understand, and that scares her. The way she looked at me when I told her my powers were changing — like I’m not myself anymore.” I hate how my voice falters, how small that admission makes me feel. “She has always been there, but now it’s like she is keeping me at arm’s length, and it feels like a betrayal.”

Oana’s ice-blue eyes narrow. “Mihaela,” she says carefully, mixed with anger and empathy. “That fear isn’t about you — it’s about her. She’s hiding something. I can feel it. Maybe she’s afraid you’ll uncover it. Maybe she’s afraid you already have.”

“I reached for her mind… I didn’t mean to. It just happened.” I say, my voice breaking, fighting the tears that threaten to break through my walls.

Oana's eyes move over my blurry face, searching for my eyes. “Did you see anything?”

Oana knows, she knows almost everything about me because it has always been so easy to just be open with her. She knows how my mind drifts, how Mother made me search through creature’s minds, even though I can’t remember if I found anything. But people. I could never do people, or maybe I refuse until I couldn’t contain my power, and recently it has been reached and grabbing without a second thought.

“I told her to stop saying his…” I trail off, not a topic I want to be reminded of anymore. “I didn’t look, I snap the connection as soon as I realized what was happened.”

Oana's face scrunches, and her nose wrinkles. “She thinks you know something. She thinks you found something. So we are going to find out what it is. Be careful around her.”

I look at Oana, startled by her conviction. “You really think so?”

Her expression darkens, her confidence unshaken in her eyes. “I don’t just think so. I know so. Maybe it’s just my witchy intuition, but there’s something about Devlyn that’s never sat right with me. I don’t doubt she cares about you — I think she does, in her own way. But that doesn’t mean she is being honest with you. There’s something off, something she’s not telling you, and she is afraid you’ll find out, and I’d bet my last spell it’s important.”

“You never liked her,” I mumble, almost accusing.

Oana lets out a bitter laugh. “No, I haven’t And I won’t apologize for that. But this isn’t about liking her. It’s about trust, and I’ve never fully trusted her. She’s too close to your mother, too deeply bound by loyalty. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am.” Her voice hardens, and the next words come out cold, as if she also had ice in her veins. “And your mother? Don’t get me started on her. Yes, she gave me refuge when I had nowhere else to go, and yes, I have played nice for your sake. But the way she treats you, the way she breaks you down, and builds you back up to be something you’re not… I can’t forgive her for that, Mi. She’s a master at hiding things, guarding secrets no one’s meant to uncover. And I’d bet my other last spell she’s hiding so much about you.”

The words slice through, each one hitting a nerve I didn’t realize was still so raw. “You really think all of this is about me?”

“I think this has always been about you,” Oana says bluntly. “And whatever it is, it’s bigger than the forest, bigger than Muma Padurii, bigger than fate. You’re at the center of this, Mihaela. And I think your mother has been playing the long game, keeping you in the dark for as long as she could. But it’s all coming together now.”

She reaches out, and again her fingers fall through me, but that doesn’t stop her. “You may feel like you’re standing amongst giants, Mi, but don’t forget your own strength. And remember, the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

A tentative warmth flickers in my chest, though the path ahead feels as dark as the Endless Forest. But sitting here with Oana, with her fierce sincerity and boundless insight, I feel a spark of hope. Her strength runs deeper than spells or knowledge, it is woven into the very fabric of her being, of who she is and she believes in. She is a witch — my witch — powerful in ways I can barely fathom, and she believes in me.