Cursed

26. Noctur's Betrayal

A long, long time ago in a faraway land a young witch loved a warlock. They were not to be together however, for it was forbidden.

As long as anyone remembered, witches and warlocks were at war. Witches were creatures of respect and order. They ruled their Witchdom as a representative democracy, each high family placed a head at the Witchdom Committee which convened whenever necessary.

Warlocks were conniving creatures of greed and mayhem. They fought for power among themselves and had very little integrity. They were a danger to themselves and the beings around them, that is why the witches took it upon themselves to rule. This inevitably caused a terrible animosity between the two species. A hatred that would last for centuries.

Miranda, a young witch of only 16 witch years found herself yet again waiting on her own for her beloved to make his appearance. He was late. He was often late. She could not blame him, he was a warlock after all and it was to be expected. They had not the virtues that witches had, among them punctuality.

Miranda scolded herself for her abasing thought. She mustn't belittle her beloved nor his origins. If she wished to fulfill their future together, she must first learn to put away her prejudices. She allowed her thoughts to wander to his lovely physique. How she loved his deep amethyst eyes that saw through her every facade. How she adored his gentle kisses. How could a creature so gentle be vile? She refused to believe he was so. Yes, he could be rough around the edges, but she refused to believe he was evil. How she yearned for his touch. No sooner had the thought made itself apparent in her pretty little head, did she feel it.

"Miranda, my love," he whispered in her ear as he caressed her neck delicately. Miranda sighed blissfully as she leaned into his touch with dreamy eyes.

"I missed you," she replied, eyes closed, "we were apart for so long this time."

"Indeed we were," he paused to kiss each of her closed lids and it was like a feather brushing over her skin, "I had important Underkingdom business to attend to. It was pertinent that I finished it before I could free myself to you."

"I wish you had not so much that keeps you away," she replied sadly.

"My sun and sky, you are young still, with little responsibility," he scolded, "In a few years you will be put on the Witchdom Committee and you will see how it feels to have the weight of the world on your shoulders." She hated when he became self important. It mattered not that she was but a few years younger than he. He needn't constantly remind her of it.

"Noctur, I shall not be admonished like a child." He was heir to the Underkingdom throne and many a time did it go to his head. He had his faults and she loved him for them, but that did not mean she was oblivious to them.

"My apologies, that is never my intention," he took her into his arms then and kissed her fervently. This was unexpected to her but she accepted it graciously, devouring his touch like she had not in all the time they were apart.

"Love of my existence," he began when they resurfaced from drowning in each other's embrace, "I come with a purpose more than to simply see you." His eyes grew sad and his already thin lips pressed into a grim line. She apprehended his next words.

"We have been found out," and her throat tightened at the thought, "Phantasm, he knows. He said we must end this and never meet again or he will report of our affair."

"No, what do we do?" her heart sped in fear and had she been human, tears would have slid down her cheeks. Phantasm, Noctur's younger brother was always looking for a reason to gain the title of heir apparent. If he brought their affair to light, he would succeed. Both her warlock and herself would be shunned by their families and banished dishonorably. It could not happen.