APPLE WITCH (girlxgirlxgirl)

34. My selfish desire

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⚠️ Mentions of death, bruises, abuse, wounds, exhaustion, suicidal thoughts ⚠️

It's dark at night when they finally arrive at the gloomy high towers of the witch prison.

Adar shakes with fear.

He has never been good at anything before, really. He's only been good at one thing, and that's rocking this amazing white hair hairstyle that he's got going on. His looks are something to admire, as handsome as he truly is. Taller than an average witch, magical white hair that contrasts his deep and charismatic black eyes, with soft cheeks but a sharp jawline. Somewhat feminine despite ultimately coming off as quite strong and masculine to everyone around him. Adar has never truly been confident in anything other than his looks. There is no power within him to talk about, and he isn't very knowledgeable of the world either. So truly, he's nothing special. It's odd that he's on this mission at all, when they can all fight and he can't.

Now Melora, his only teacher and best friend is locked up in the tower, whilst he is stuck with the rest of their glorious friends, feeling much more like a shadow behind light than he did before. Melora is lost to the tower, and unlike his friends he has no hope for her or for himself left. In fact, he would like to think that it was his own failure in the magic field that led them all down this dangerous and hopeless path. Had he just managed to learn how to use his powers like the other two seasonal witches, maybe Melora wouldn't have needed to sacrifice herself. It's a stupid thought, yes, but Adar can't help himself. He is tired of being a pretty face and nothing more, tired of constantly trying to improve while always failing and tired of pretending that he could ever be anything else than a background character in someone else's story. A shadow under someone's glorious light.

That's why this mission is doomed to fail. Adar knows that it's true, and yet he is still with them, hiding behind a tree in the dark forest that surrounds the tower grounds. He is still here, despite knowing that it's just going to end up with him being locked up in the tower within the next twenty four hours. The vampires have led him and Hilda to a death trap.

The wind blows coldly from the tower, and the entire place looks terrible from the outside. There are dark stone walls rising up towards the sky, with tiny holes up above where a golden light simmers through. Clouds surround the eery four towers that exist in the four corners of the square shaped dungeon, and Adar gulps at the sight. One of those towers will become his next home for life. There is light coming from the two other towers, one of them must be Melora's. She is up there, so very close and yet worlds apart. Whether dead or alive at this point, Adar has a hard time worrying for his friend in the same way his other friends worry for her. He can't feel bad for someone else's life when his own neck is on the cutting board. It's not pity or worry that he feels, no, it's fear.

Fear of ending up there despite promising Melora that he never would, despite all the stories she told him of how terrible and dangerous it is to live there. Despite everything, Adar has still allowed himself to be dragged up the twin mountains of the northern west, and through the forest of obitus winds. They have travelled long and far, knowing fully well where they were going, and somehow they haven't backed out yet. Adar is on the brink of losing it. He thinks of running away, but comes to the terrifying conclusion that he wouldn't survive a day out there on his own. The tower would find him after capturing all of his friends and killing the vampires.

So really, Adar feels nothing but pity for himself in this situation. Pity and fear, even as a worried Saint keeps a comforting hand over his shoulder, as they collectively stare out over the tower. Vallin and Hilda hug each other for warmth, as the nights in the windy and cold northwest are cruel to say the least. Not even the trees of the dark forest can protect them against the cruelty of Melora's home. Saint hasn't said a word since they arrived in the forest, but he's been shivering for a while now. It is truly cold here, a wet kind of cold that seeps into your bones and skin and doesn't go away, making you shiver without feeling calm in the usual frozen way. The icy wind worsens the situation. Adar has lived most of his life up on a snowy mountain, but even he begins to wonder how Melora managed to adapt to these circumstances when she was brought here as a child. It only intensifies his fear, too, because now he has to adapt as well. How could he ever?