GAVRILA'S POV

I was always good at getting myself into trouble. But this- this was beyond any sort of trouble I could've ever imagined.

I had come to Romania to have another of my infrequent, awkward visits with my uncle. Nikolai was never sure how to act around me. After all, his brother was the one who'd murdered my mother, and kept my locked in a basement for the first three years of my life. His brother, my sperm donor, was an absolute monster, and Nikolai didn't realize it until I'd already accidentally killed him. He never stopped feeling bad about that.

After the visit, I took some time to wander aimlessly through the Carpathian mountains, camping in caves at night. I spent my days contemplating our uncomfortable relationship. Though I didn't hate my uncle or his wife, I could never fully stop resenting them. Not only had they not realized what my abuser was doing, or even that I existed, despite being high ranking council officials, they refused to take me in when I was found. When I heard I had family, a word I was only vaguely familiar with, I had desperately hoped to find people to love me like my mother did. But they said they couldn't do it, and I was left as an orphaned council ward.

I knew now that it was the right decision. Nikolai and Aveline would've been horrible parents. They're uncomfortable with kids, they travel constantly, they party frequently, and in general, neither one of them has a parental bone in their body. But still, the rejection did its damage.

Eventually, I decided it was time to head back to my house in Alaska. I was wandering down toward the city of Piatra Neamt when I caught the faintest hint of magic energy. I reached out with my mind and quickly located its source. Enhancing my speed, I moved rapidly to investigate. The magic seemed to be coming from some kind of underground bunker.

When I arrived at the spot I looked around for an entrance. There was a strangely mangled tree that caught my attention. A simple touch showed me that it was a very ancient gate. The magic was intricate, excessively so. I recognized this type of cast from what I'd seen from artifacts, old witches, and old books. This space was also untouched, untainted by modern times. The seal on this hideout hadn't been tampered with since it was cast. And it was at least 2 and a half thousand years old.

I gnawed on my lip. Technically, as an information broker and council informant, I did have the authority to investigate on my own. But something about this felt off. I weighed my curiosity against the bad vibes. As always, curiosity won.

First, I implanted a record of the seal's construction and aura and an image of the tree in my mind. I wanted to make sure everything was documented. Then I carefully assembled the sequence required to break it.

My unique spell casting method, which only I used, was particularly useful for ancient seal breaking. Most witches used magic based on long spell sequences that were specific to every spell. No two formulas were the same. I, on the other hand, casted spells that were built of a collection of formulas, allowing my magic to be far more customized. Ancient seals were far more intricate than modern seals, and often varied wildly in their construction, so being able to build a unique counter spell meant an easier break.

Whoever cast this was relatively powerful, but more than that, they were subtle. There were a number of seals layered on top of each other, all with highly specified powers. They all worked together to make it nearly impossible to find this place. I deduced that I only found it because the magic was so similar to my own that it resonated with me in a similar way it would to the original caster.

With a quick flash I found myself in an underground cave. I created an artificial light to radiate inside. The space was large, and was clearly a residence at some point. The construction was similar to what I'd seen in records of the long destroyed witch villages. Sitting on the small kitchen table was an ornate box. I gasped in shock.

It was a magic tool. As the engineer behind most modern magic tools, I could recognize it instantly. And the seals on this were even more tailored than the ones on the bunker itself. Once again, I felt like I shouldn't interfere. Once again, my curiosity won out.

The seal didn't even need to be broken. I saw at once that my magic was nearly identical to the ancient caster. Beyond that, I could see the woman, Arisaia, clearly in my head. Though over 2700 years separated us, her image and power gave proof of our connection- I was her descendant, her great granddaughter. And now her memories, the last fragments of her very being were filling my mind, and all her thoughts became my own.

She'd lived here, hiding from someone. I caught the name- Ravena. And then a familial connection there; she was hiding from her own sister.

She also had a family. They'd lived in a city that I'd only ever found vague illusions to. A secret witch city, known only to its highly skilled residents- Pellion. Her memory was of a grand city, made of marble and fine granite. The buildings were grand and magic tools I hadn't imagined were a part of everyday life. And my great grandmother lived in the very center of it all. An apartment overlooking the city square, where she lived with her son, and a newborn daughter. I gathered that Arisaia held a high position in this place.

In this memory, she was looking out the window at dusk. The baby was in her cradle, and Lorran rested in his mother's arms. A wave of shock rolled through me as I recognized the large statue in she looked at. It was Alunara, the Grand High Witch.

And then a horrible pain coursed through Arisaia. Her son screamed out. Quickly she shut his mind off to protect him. A strong barrier kept her inside her home. And then there was Ravena. Tall, dark haired, and clearly crazed.

Though I didn't recognize the language they spoke, my mind translated automatically. "I heard about your daughter, little sister," a surprisingly smooth voice said. "Baby Olimpia. So precious." The mad woman was now standing above the cradle. Arisaia struggled to stand, to cast, to think, but the pain was too great. "I'm afraid I need this little one. I've got monsters to build, and I've found that only the babies are able to survive the procedure. I'm sure history will thank you for bringing her into this world."

An agonizing grief muddled the following years. Throughout the remaining two decades, I caught only brief moments. Ravena had a horrifying creature at her control. Now two. Three- and each one was stronger than the last. And the fourth, oh the fourth. Refugees flooded the city, now revealed, and the government officials demanded every citizen's aid in creating seals. The Ancient One, Alunara was searching for the beasts- the Hellions they'd been dubbed.

Hellions. Oh no. I was learning the origin of the Hellions. The most secret piece of knowledge in existence. There wasn't supposed to be any remaining evidence. Al and Olly were supposed to be the only ones who knew. Intentionally investigating this was strictly forbidden. Desperately I tried to pull out, but Arisaia's mind had joined so closely with my own now that it was impossible. Her last spell made us one.

The destruction of Pellion was gruesome. The four Hellions, Olly, the late Stephan and Sisily, and one I'd never seen or heard of, slaughtered their way through the city. My predecessor had started to help defend the citizens, but she quickly realized it was hopeless to spread herself that thin. So she gave up and instead focused on concealing herself and her son in an alley, tucked beneath the rubble of a collapsed building.

She watched as the Hellion I'd never seen before tore through a desperately pleading woman. And then suddenly, the man collapsed to his knees gripping his head. She felt him gather magic power, just as Olly ran into the square.

"Anghel, what's wrong?" Olly cried, rushing to his side.

"Olimpia," the man choked out, "you have to break free."

A wave of shock rushed through Arisaia and myself. Holy crap. Olly was my great aunt.

"What are you talking about? Ravena? You know there's no hope. We can't maintain control if we try."

"I know that Olly. But I know it. I know that you can save yourself, save Stephan and Sisily, as long as you're free."

She shook her head. "There's no chance. We should leave. The city and its people are gone. Ravena will be waiting."

Suddenly the man, Anghel, grabbed Olly's head tightly and began constructing a seal breaking sequence. Arisaia read it in his mind. Silently she called to her son to lend her his power, which she would join with hers and pass on to this man who was trying to save her Olimpia. At the final stages of the spell, the man's power was increased exponentially, as my ancestors drained themselves to aid him.

Olly gasped and Anghel began to shake. "You know what you have to do," he pleaded. "I don't- I can't- please!"

The newly free Hellion shook her head. "No, I can't. Anghel, my brother, please, I can't," she begged. "I can't kill you. I can't."

Their eyes met. Olly wailed. And then a horrific battle ensued. Arisaia and her son didn't stay to watch. They were the only survivors. A long journey brought them close to a village that had a high witch population, near the mountains. As they made plans to take up residence there, my great grandmother realized that her son wouldn't be safe if he knew who he was, what he saw. And so as he slept one night, she destroyed his memories of his life. Of her, of his home, of everyone he knew. And she built him a new life in his mind.

She left her son, who now thought her was a traveler from the North, who'd lost his parents years ago, sleeping alone in the mountains. For some time she wandered, eventually building this bunker, growing weaker and lonelier every day. After ten years, she finally gave in, sealing away the bunker and her memories, somehow knowing they'd be found someday.

I was in the present day again, and my phone was in my hand. My only hope of survival now was to admit everything I knew to the high witch privately and beg for my life. The fact that I didn't know what I would find, and my official clearance level were the only grounds I had legally.

I desperately rang three times before a very annoyed Grand High Witch answered. "I'm busy, Gavrila," she said shortly.

"I have to talk to you," I pleaded. "Immediately. I'm so sorry. I didn't know, and now- now I know too much."

"What are you talking about?" Her voice was sharp.

"I- I found a bunker with an ancient seal. I've searched places like it before, so I didn't think too much of it. There was a sealed box inside. Apparently it was the home of- of a witch named Arisaia. I, well, I saw, um, some of her memories."

A gasp came from the other end. "What memories?"

My reply was rushed. "The ones I shouldn't have. Please, just let me come there and show you. I promise I didn't know, I didn't mean for this to happen. I tried to stop seeing, I did, but-"

"I've opened the untethered gate for you. Meet me in the library now. It's clear we have a lot to discuss." The line went dead and I obeyed my orders immediately, silently shooting a prayer to my mother, hoping I'd come out of this.