Court Of Shadows and Lies

5. Secrets of Witchblood

I hurried to my room, closing the door behind me with a soft click. As I dropped my side bag onto the floor, my hands trembled with anticipation. I quickly rummaged through it and pulled out a heavy, ancient tome—its leather cover worn and embossed with intricate patterns that hinted at the wealth of knowledge contained within. Thankfully, Rylan hadn’t seen me, or he would have asked questions.

Aunt Elowen gave me this book, a treasure trove filled with everything about witches and their bloodlines. I opened it to a page that listed the various witch bloodlines, my heart racing as I took in the names, each one carrying a legacy of power and mystery.

I traced the names on the ancient page, my fingers lingering over the intricate symbols that marked each bloodline. The weight of the tome felt heavy in my lap, not just because of its age and size, but because of the knowledge it contained—the legacy of power that had shaped the world I now found myself entangled in.

This is it. This is what I need to break free, to finally gain control.

The Nyxarëal bloodline seemed almost untouchable, their mastery over dimensions and time unparalleled. But power like that came with consequences. Even the most powerful witches had their weaknesses, and I would need to be careful how I approached them.

As for the others, each bloodline possessed something unique, something I could use. The Eryndor witches’ healing magic would be invaluable in mending both body and spirit, while the Valandis warriors could turn the tide of any battle with their control over fire. The Lysaera witches with their illusions and manipulation would be key in crafting deceptions—tools I could wield to outsmart my enemies.

The psychic abilities of the Vilyara bloodline intrigued me the most, their ability to influence thoughts and manipulate dreams offering endless possibilities for gaining power in court. I could already picture the advantage they would give me over those who stood in my way, especially Father.

I paused, my gaze landing on the Dravyr bloodline. Necromancers. Their power was dark, but the idea of summoning the dead to aid me wasn’t entirely unappealing. They could offer guidance or become weapons in their own right, walking the fine line between life and death to serve my cause.

Then there was Isólde—the masters of time. The thought of manipulating time itself sent a shiver down my spine. If I could align with them, the possibilities would be endless. I could rewrite my future, undo mistakes, and bend fate itself to my will. But I knew such power would come at a cost, and I couldn’t afford to risk everything without fully understanding the consequences.

The Thalorian witches, with their control over water and weather, might be less immediately useful, but their ability to heal and purify could balance the darker forces I would undoubtedly be aligning with. They would keep me grounded, ensuring that I didn’t lose myself entirely to the pursuit of power.

As I delved deeper into the book, I stumbled upon the section dedicated to the Zerane bloodline. They were once a powerful lineage, holding a significant place among the witch families, but their envy of the Nyxarëal lineage’s immense power ultimately led to their downfall. The Zerane witches were never satisfied with their strength; they coveted more, yearning for the abilities that made the Nyxarëal lineage unparalleled.

In their greed, they called upon spirits from the depths of hell, seeking a curse to siphon the powers of the Nyxarëal witches. They believed that by doing so, they could elevate themselves to a status of unparalleled might. But the Nyxarëal lineage was not so easily subdued. Instead of losing their magic, they fought back against the spirits, refusing to be cursed or have their powers stripped away. This act of defiance angered the spirits greatly, and they turned their wrath toward the Zerane bloodline.