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Henrik had been living with Dhalia and Freya for around six months, and he had formed a strong bond with Freya. To Henrik, Freya was like a second mother, always there to comfort him when he was hurt or feeling down, especially when Dhalia was harsh on him for not meeting her expectations.Henrik's journey with his magical abilities was not without its challenges. A moment of lost control had led to a devastating earthquake, forcing them to relocate. Dhalia, recognizing Henrik's potential, began to monitor him closely, and her expectations were often surpassed. Yet, she still held his inability to produce his magic against him.
Henrik's dedication to swordsmanship was paying off. His skills had sharpened to outmatch several men; even those Dhalia had pitted against him. These surprise sparring sessions, a regular occurrence, were designed to keep Henrik on his toes to prevent him from growing complacent in his abilities.
Henrik's strong bond with Freya grew over their six months together. Despite occasional uncontrollable magical incidents, Henrik found solace in magic, which became his refuge. Freya dedicated herself to teaching him various spells, focusing mainly on cloaking and defense spells. Meanwhile, Dhalia focused on honing Henrik's combat magic through rigorous training sessions, during which he had to defend against her magical attacks.
"Protect yourself! Look at you. This isn't even my strongest spell. If this is all it takes to defeat you, you might as well give up now," Dhalia taunted, using her magic to force Henrik to kneel. Henrik attempted to retaliate with his magic, but it was futile, like trying to sail over a monstrous tsunami.
Henrik struggled against Dahlia's overpowering magic, his attempts to counter her spells proving ineffective. As he knelt under the force of her enchantment, frustration and determination surged within him. Despite Dhalia's taunts, Henrik refused to yield.
With determination, Henrik focused inward, sensing the magic around him. Taking a deep breath, he absorbed the potent magic in the air and unleashed a powerful burst of magic.
"Hmm, good," Dhalia said with a smirk. "Do it again," she instructed, launching another attack. She aimed to make defending against such magic second nature to Henrik. As Hegan (Dahlia and Esther's Coven name) witches, they refused to be at the mercy of anyone else's magic and were determined not to bow down to any adversary.
Dhalia was relentless in her training of Henrik. As a Witch, she instilled in him the ethos of resilience and independence. She wanted Henrik to develop an instinctual response to magical threats, ensuring that he would never be vulnerable to the spells of others.
After several hours of Henrik defending himself, Dhalia decided to change tactics. "Now, attack me with everything you've got. Give it your best," she commanded, ready to assess Henrik's offensive abilities.
Henrik paused, momentarily taken aback by Dahlia's unexpected instruction. He had grown accustomed to defending against her relentless assaults, but the prospect of unleashing his magic against her was thrilling and daunting.
This routine continued for months. Each morning, Henrik began by practicing swordsmanship. After breakfast, he delved into magical studies under Freya's guidance until midday. In the afternoons, Dhalia took over, teaching him advanced combat techniques and refining his magic.
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Their year had passed, and Dhalia wanted to connect Henrik to herself and Freya. She had taught him well enough for the year they were together. She prepared the spell, got the herbs and supplies, and waited for the moon to reach its peak.
"Do not be scared, Henrik. As I am connected to Dahlia, so shall you," Freya reassured him, gently tucking his long hair behind his ear before hugging him and whispering to Henrik. "Do not worry, nephew. I will find a way to save us," she promised, though deep down, she knew she lacked the power and knowledge to free herself and Henrik from Dahlia's hold.
"I promise you, always and forever," Freya declared, sticking out her pinky. Henrik smiled and wrapped his pinky around hers. "Always and forever, Auntie."
Dahlia's voice interrupted them sharply. "Quit messing around over there. The moon is about to hit its apex. We don't have much time."
Freya, Dahlia, and Henrik stood in a moonlit clearing, hands joined beneath the full moon's apex. "Repeat after me," Dahlia instructed, her voice filled with ancient resonance.
"Nos sub hac plena luna ligare animas nostras magicas per saeculum, dormire et per annum balsh evigilare."
As they chanted, Dahlia cut both her palms, then passed the knife to Freya, who did the same, and finally to Henrik. They each offered their blood, joining Dahlia as they continued the chant. Henrik felt a deep connection forming, sensing Dahlia and Freya's magic intertwining with his own. He realized at that moment that this bond would endure until Dahlia's demise; there was no escaping it.
After the spell subsided, Dahlia spoke up, her voice carrying authority. "Let us go. We need to prepare for our sleep."
Freya reached for Henrik's hands but paused when she noticed their wounds had healed. She glanced at her hand, realizing that the contact with Henrik's blood had also healed her injury. Suppressing her surprise, she composed herself. "Let's go, little one."
As they walked, Henrik couldn't resist asking, "How long are we sleeping for?" He already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it again.
Freya looked at the young boy with pity in her eyes. "The spell we performed has linked us in magic, strengthening and granting us immortality. However, to maintain this immortality, we must sleep for a century. Then, for one year—and only one year—we awaken, our magic renewed and amplified."
After a silent walk home, Dahlia instructed them to retire to their cots. Meanwhile, she cast potent cloaking and invisibility spells around the house, binding them to herself. As long as Dahlia lived, these protective enchantments would hold.
Henrik sighed, the weight of exhaustion settling upon him like a heavy blanket. He wasn't sure when it happened, but his eyes grew heavy, and his breathing slowed to a steady rhythm.
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𝔒𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔖𝔦𝔫|ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ᴅɪᴀʀɪᴇꜱ
Fanfiction"Love the sinner, hate the sin" wasn't a motto Henrik could follow, for he was both. As a Tribrid, an abomination in the eyes of many, he embodied the very essence of contradiction. His existence was a paradox, a living testament to the blurred line...