Book One – Chapter 6

Yves’ path of life had been crossed, entwined, directed, and twisted by a myriad of witches. These encounters had ranged from fleeting glances and negotiations to outright battles, once even culminating in the binding power of an Unbreakable Oath. He was one of the few wizards on the continent who had acquired a witch tear and, in one unavoidable twist, also a disturbing form of comradery. At Emery Thurm, he had delved into the craft, customs and covens of witches deeper than any other novice, learning to navigate the treacherous landscapes of these perilous engagements. Yet, this extensive repository of understanding, gathered from books, mentors, comrades, fellow travellers and firsthand ordeals, held no answers on the annihilation of Vichae.

Could a witch destroy her own creation? The Vicha emerged from the depths of vengeance, but could the curse be retracted if the witch forgave the wizard? Unlikely. The Vicha was materialised malice that acted autonomously from the moment of its conjuring.

The disparity between wizardry and witchcraft was stark. The distressing abilities of witches were not grounded in logic or bound by recognisable rules or systems; they were incomprehensible, disturbingly impossible. Regardless of a wizard’s spectrum and disposition, his magic required conscious sustenance, either directly or through encapsulated energy, as provided by energy crystals. Witches wielded a more elusive power. Their spells were self-sustaining, moving and perpetuating themselves. Curses, such as the Vicha, were one aspect; equally terrifying were summonings that drew energy from the environment. While a wizard impacted the world for as long as he lived, the continent held an amalgamation of magical traps, forsaken places, and even cursed dungeons that long-dead witches had created centuries ago. The most potent among them drew from recurring forces like wind or rain, or from ever-growing natural entities, such as the root systems of vast forests — a link beyond the reach of wizards.

Everlasting spells were those connected to Teharun, invoking its sinister energies to replenish their relentless existence every night. They would not fade from the world as long as the dark moon rose to shroud the sky in its dark veil.

For this night, the witch hour had passed. While the black veil of Teharun had faded, is was the Vicha’s sheer mass that now threatened to devour even the stars.

And it was closing in to devour Yves.