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Her breathing began to shallow as anxiety picked up in her chest.

My father is not a human?

“I can tell you are confused and do not believe me. Fine, I will show you him. Perhaps it will help me to unlock your memories if you know the truth. Knowing you are under a spell helps with breaking them.”

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her along the hallway to the left of that main room door, leading her to a curving staircase. There were two windows on their climb, one low to the ground and another halfway up, giving just enough light to see each step.

At the very top, was a distressed timber door. He didn’t open it, instead he turned to her.

“The door is unlocked, but I have my own ward in place.” He motioned to the orb in his hand. “You may speak with him while I take care of the WitchSlayer. You have until then.”

He left by walking back down the stairs.

Amalia faced the door with apprehension, causing sweat to make her palms slick, and slowly opened it. She peeked her head inside.

She saw a man sitting alone on the other side with his hands bound by chains. His hair was blond, but was tight with curls, not loose how hers were. The moment he lifted his head up to see who entered, Amalia ran forward and crashed into an invisible barrier that only shimmered when she was bounced back.

“Daddy!” she exclaimed with bewildered eyes.

He leapt to his knees to crawl forward.

“Amalia, you should not be here,” he answered quickly, his voice hoarse like he hadn’t used it in a long time.

He placed his bound hands on the ward, and Amalia noted that he was covered in dirt and dust. His brown pants were worn while his white shirt tattered around his unusually lean frame. He looked frail and weak, as though he was half-starved.

“I was taken here.” Then tears began to pool in her eyes before quickly falling. “I thought you were dead.”

“No, sweetheart. I am not dead.” His eyes were such a dark colour of blue that it was easy to mistake them for brown from a distance. “I have been a captive.”

“Why did she lie to me?” She placed one of her hands firmly on the ward while the other covered her mouth. She bit back a terrible sob. “Why did Mum tell me you died? She told me soldiers came to the house to tell us.”

“She needed to in order to protect you.”

“Where is she? Why did she leave me?”

Amalia’s looked behind him with hope that she might see her in the prison cell with him. It was empty except for some fur bedding, a chamber pot, and a wooden plate.

Her mother had never even said goodbye before she left, nor did say a word to Amalia that she was leaving. She just woke up one day suddenly alone in the world.

“She is dead. He told me he found our cottage and then killed her.” Then he quickly looked around her to see she was alone. “Run. Run while you have the chance. You must leave. You cannot be here.”

“Why?” She hiccupped through her tears, confused and hurt. There was a painful swell in her heart. “What is happening? Are you really not a human? Who is he?”

She had so many questions, and she fell to her knees to be level with him.

“I am like you, Amalia.” So, he really was a Witch. She had been lied to. “We changed your memories to think I was human. It was easier to hide. I am so sorry, sweetheart. We saw no other way.”

“But why? Why did you do these things?”

What in her memories of her childhood were real? Her mind felt like it was shattering, like fragments of glass cracking along her skull. Reality felt skewed, and she didn’t know what to believe anymore.

“Because... tonight you are to become corrupted.” The shock of his words stopped her tears. “There is a proph-”

Before he could finish, the door behind her opened. She gasped and turned to find the stranger.

Rurik laid shackled, bound, and unable to move.

His neck had been chained to the wall by a large metal collar while all of his feet were shackled together by chains, forcing him to lay down permanently. Even his dangerous tail hadn’t been spared of chains.