The Cursed Number

The raging man continued struggling against his binds, whilst West and the other witches found themselves dumbfounded by what he had told them.

The man wore a pained expression, it was beyond the effect of being tied up and experiencing Veritas. It was pain caused by a memory, maybe death or torture. And from what he had said, witches were the one at fault for his sufferings.

The reason why he had turned out like this.

"Royce and Sybil, your mother was already looking for you."

The witches turned from the infuriated man to their elder at the doorway. Nelle was beside him, holding close a scared Ruben. Sir Duncan nodded at everyone in the room, but focused his gaze on the new recruits.

"Evelina, come with them because Miss Delphine also wanted to speak to you."

The vampires narrowed her eyes towards him. "Excuse me?"

"You did not help the fixing of the counter because someone," he raised an eyebrow at West, "stole you away. That, however, does not mean that you are free from your duties you agreed upon."

"I- Well, all right. I mean, who would like staying in a room full of accusations, right?" sneered Evelina.

Guilt struck West. He was partly at fault, he knew it. He assumed something big from her, only to be held disappointed. He should have been the one who was first to understand her, yet he left her on her own. And when everybody concluded that it must be her that the man held a grudge with, he did not stand beside her. It was for the same reason that the others have. He did not trust her.

"Freeda, you may now go, too."

"Oh," the lady frowned, not surprised but disheartened. "Alright. But I was one of those who did the spells."

Sir Duncan smiled at her. "Don't worry, I would be able to do it myself. But...I must ask, where is the other boy? Patrick, was it?"

West watched Evelina and Freeda share a knowing glance.

"He is- he told us, I mean me, that he would...uh..."

The lady refused to continue, sighing to herself.

Evelina shook her head. "He decided to quit."

"What?"

Shock was an understatement when they heard that. Of course, their recruits were allowed to quit- not this early though. The test was done to prepare them of what's to come, but West believed it to be quite easy.

"Do you know about this?" Hellen looked at Nelle in question. She was, after all, the one assigned to the young witch.

But Nelle only blinked in response, somewhat detached. "No. He was...well, he did tell me that he had done that before, perform in public. Pretending to be a little boy wasn't that hard for him so as his mentor, I didn't notice anything that could make him want to quit."

"That's laughable," Evelina commented, lips pulled in a smirk, her voice taunting. "He was disappointed in us, but do you think it was our fault?"

Ah yes, the vampiress had spoken again. Really, so much for trying to get along with others.

It was obvious that she was overjoyed how she had found a way to rile Nelle up. And his friend, being the one who never backs down, stepped on the huntress' pleasure trap.

"Did I say anything about it being your fault?"

"You tell me. You were the one being questioned earlier and yet you shove it off you. You knew who was next since we were the only ones with him. So I only told you the truth. He decided to do what he did because he was disappointed in us. But who, do you think, is at fault here?"

"Miss Evelina!"

West didn't know what she was getting into, neither did the others. But whatever she was doing, she was succeeding at irritating Nelle. Big time.

"No one! It was his decision to leave."

"Do you want me to tell you?"

Nelle glared at her, aware of what she was getting into.

"Miss Evelina!" Sir Duncan snapped, his tone aggrieved. This caught the vampiress' attention, with her rolling her eyes in annoyance before pressing her lips together. "Kindly go back to your room. This goes for the other recruits, too."

The three nodded obediently whilst Evelina only let out an exasperated sigh. The group walked to the stairway, the lady trailing behind them before pausing.

"You do not trust me, but I think you should also not trust yourselves. This, after all, would not have happened if you did not make us do the challenge when we were obviously not ready. You cannot throw the blame to anyone but yourself."

Then, she followed the others upstairs.

West made a move to go after the lady, but Sir Duncan stopped him.

"She cannot yet understand," he advised. "But I do sense that you lot have done something to inflame her mood."

They did.

Everyone was silent, and if they did not hear the stool chair fall and Leila groaning, they would have forgotten about the strange man who was in the room with them.

West turned his head to where Mitchel was seated, only to see him already free from the binds. He was holding Leila down, her feather out of her reach.

"Let me out of here, then I let her go."

"I'm afraid that we cannot do that, sir," Sir Duncan said calmly. "You have known what we are." The elder tapped his staff twice. A signal both West and Nelle knew what for. "How about we offer you an alternative?"

West unnoticeably moved. Slight steps, silence coming from his foot.

The man shook his head, his grasp tightening around Leila's neck. "It's that or I kill her. Although, I believe it to be nothing for you considering how your kind are meant to torture us."

What was he saying? When had witches become killers, when it was humans who were getting rid of them.

"Do you really think you can kill a witch in a room full of her kind?"

As if on cue, West pushed himself on the man, knocking him off Leila, as both fell to the ground. Mitchel let out a pained cry, and tried shoving the male witch off him, but West elbowed the man to his stomach. He held out his candle, weight shifting as he tried to relax, readying himself to chant. "Dear Fire-"

Dear fire what? He searched his mind for a spell. For the right set of words. But their spell earlier had proven itself weak even if it was casted by three witches, him included. What if what he would conjure now be the same as before? Now what?

Blast it, he didn't have a spell for everything!

"Dear Fire," he repeated, pushing himself. "we utter our-"

But he had been thinking too much that Mitchel had already regained his strength, struggling and kicking West off him. The man rolled over to him, pinning him down.

The witch watched his expression, mad and worn out, while attempting to break free from the man's grasp.

"...tire him of his contempt."

It was Nelle who casted the spell for him, the strong smell of burnt mugwort circling the room. The smoke directed itself towards the man, knocking him senseless.

"West?" Giles called out to him.

But the witch was caught in his own mind, staring at nothingness before his gaze flew back towards Mitchel.

"He is frail," he said. West noticed how exhaustion was the one powering the man's aggression. "Let him rest, please."

Mitchel had been blaming them since the moment he found out that they were witches. And what he had been saying may hurt because they weren't the one who was causing him his wounds, but they still could not condemn him for it for the heaviness of his statements wouldn't come from nothing.

"And you?" it was Giles who was helping him up.

"I would-" he paused, turning to face Sir Duncan. "Can we decide what to do with him now? I'll start."

The elder nodded, shooting the others a glance.

"I want him to join us."

"What?"

"Not again, West!"

Of course, he would understand where they were coming from.

"West!" Hellen cried, infuriated by his decision. "You can't just keep adopting those who are threatening the members of our group!"

"No! I'm not! I'm just saying that maybe we get to give him another chance?"

"You wouldn't be the one to decide this one again, West," said Leila. She was always on his side so it's new to him that she was going against him. "You weren't the one who he was strangling earlier, just like you weren't the one who were attacked by the vampire." She shared a look with Nelle. "Don't you think it's pretty inconsiderate of you to say that?"

Leila's point had struck him mute.

They were right. It wasn't fair for them that he always gets a win when deciding who should join and who shouldn't, considering that he had only been at the sidelines. He had been selfish.

West sighed, ashamed, "I'm sorry."

But…

No. No buts this time.

"Then, we get to decide on that when he wakes up," Sir Duncan finalized. "He doesn't like witches, and we already have three humans with us here. He could betray us anytime."

"There's also another point why he couldn't join," Hellen stepped in. "Thirteen. Letting him be one of us would make us thirteen."

"That would be if Patrick were still with us."

"Even if he is not, we have to avoid reaching the number."

"Then?" Giles questioned.

"It is not our problem now," said Sir Duncan. " Maybe tomorrow, but this day may be too much for all of you. Nelle, take Ruben. The child had been waiting for you all day and he found this. West and Giles, keep the human in a room where he cannot escape. I will put a barrier myself later."

The members nodded in obedience, but the number did not leave their minds. Thirteen. What bad luck must be waiting for them, then?