Chapter 25: A War of Perspectives
Dani stood near the edge of the gallery, arms crossed, observing Joy and Carter from a distance. While his primary task was keeping an eye on Joy, he found himself drawn to the artwork. The human culture of this world fascinated him, especially their interpretation of history.
As he wandered deeper into the gallery, a large painting caught his attention. Its grandiosity and vivid imagery demanded it.
It depicted the infamous witches-and-humans war: humans adorned in gleaming armor, their faces resolute as they drove witches—twisted and monstrous in the painting’s portrayal—into a fiery abyss. Smoke and flames framed the witches, their gnarled hands clawing at the air as if begging for mercy. Above, a human warrior raised a banner of victory, his expression noble and triumphant.
Dani snickered, shaking his head. The audacity of this version of events was laughable. “If only Wardell and Willard could see this,” he muttered. "Wardell would probably combust with indignation, and Willard… well, he’d probably write a sad poem about it.”
“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”
Dani turned to see a woman standing beside him. She had a radiant beauty, with light brown eyes framed by long lashes, her head wrapped in a vibrant turquoise turban. Her voice was warm yet laced with a sharpness that hinted at her intellect.
“The painting,” she clarified, nodding toward the grotesque depiction. “It’s not just silly; it’s deeply offensive. To those of us with magic in our veins, it’s a slap in the face.”
Dani’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “Couldn’t agree more. But that’s history for you—written by the victors. Or at least the loudest.”
The woman chuckled, her laughter soft but genuine. “True. Still, it makes you wonder how much of what they call ‘history’ is just... propaganda.”
“I’ve wondered that many times,” Dani admitted, glancing back at the painting. “Especially since my father’s part of the Council.”
Her eyes flicked to him, curiosity evident. “Ah, you’re connected to the Council. That must give you a unique perspective on this… revisionism.”
Dani shrugged. “It does. But it also gives me a headache.”
She laughed again, and for a moment, the tension in Dani’s shoulders eased. He realized he hadn’t felt this comfortable in a conversation with a stranger in a long time.
“I’m Kiran,” she said, extending a hand.
“Dani.” He shook her hand, noting its firm yet delicate grip.
“Well, Dani, it was nice to meet someone who sees through the nonsense,” Kiran said, her tone light but sincere. Before Dani could reply, a group of people called her name from across the room.
She sighed. “That’s my cue. But I hope to see you again.”
Dani nodded. “Likewise.”
With a parting smile, Kiran joined her friends, leaving Dani standing alone with a strange warmth in his chest.
The moment of tranquility was shattered as Carter came running into the room, Joy limp in his arms. Dani’s eyes widened, and he immediately stepped forward.
“What happened?” Dani demanded, his voice sharp with concern.
“I don’t know!” Carter exclaimed, his expression frantic. “She was fine, and then she just… zoned out in front of a painting. When I shook her, she collapsed.”
Dani placed a steadying hand on Carter’s shoulder. “Calm down. Let’s get her somewhere quiet and figure this out.”
Together, they carried Joy to a secluded corner of the gallery. Dani knelt beside her, checking her pulse and examining her face. Her breathing was steady, but her expression was tense, as if she were trapped in a vivid nightmare.
“She’s been under a lot of stress lately,” Dani muttered. “It could be a magical trigger or something tied to that journal she’s been obsessing over.”
Carter’s eyes widened. “You think this is connected to the journal?”
“Possibly,” Dani replied. “She hasn’t exactly been forthcoming about what she’s found in it.”
As they spoke, Joy stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. She looked between Dani and Carter, disoriented.
“What... happened?” she murmured.
“You tell us,” Dani said gently. “You passed out in the gallery. Are you okay?”
Joy sat up slowly, her hand going to her necklace—only to remember it wasn’t there. Her expression darkened. “I saw her again. The woman in the cloak.”
Carter and Dani exchanged a glance.
“She’s connected to the journal,” Joy continued, her voice trembling. “She knows about it. And she wants it.”
Dani’s jaw tightened. “Then we need to find out who she is and why that journal is so important. No more secrets, Joy. If we’re going to protect you, we need the whole story.”
Joy hesitated, but the urgency in Dani’s tone left her no choice. “Fine. But I don’t think we’ll like what we find.”
As they helped her to her feet, Dani couldn’t help but glance back at the painting of the witches-and-humans war. It felt like an omen—a reminder that the past was never as simple as it seemed. And for Joy, the battle was just beginning.
