A Fall of Secrets

I stared down at it. Then, holding my breath, I went the final step and popped open the coffin’s lid. It was empty. The sheet that had likely once enveloped Lilith’s body was crumpled up in one corner.

I’d come to this place in hope of finding answers, but now my mind was flooded with more questions. I could only conclude that the connection Lilith had made with this place had not been permanent and was created at her will.

Lilith had once been buried. Had she actually been dead? Or had she faked her death? I could hardly believe that it could have been the former. I didn’t think that it was possible to bring someone back from the dead.

Frustrated, I covered up the coffin with earth and replaced the slab.

What now? Go back to The Shade and try to invoke some more memories? Memories that might just lead me on another wild-goose chase…

I was beginning to feel more hopeless than ever. I found myself wandering around the tombs nearby, kicking dirt as I racked my brains for my next move.

As I walked along, my eyes fell upon the etchings on the graves. They were only just visible beneath the grime that coated all the Ancients’ tombs. The writing was old witch tongue.

The names of the witches within the tombs were scrawled in large font, and beneath them were lists of between three to five departed friends or family members. It was witch tradition to spell out which late loved ones one wanted to rest with after death. I walked back to Lilith’s tomb, curious to see whose names she had wanted etched upon her grave. Although I had visited this tomb before, at the time I had been in too panicked a state to pay attention to what was written on her grave. Heck, I hadn’t even made the connection that this was her grave to begin with.

I scraped away the moss, and was surprised to see only one name. And not even a full name. It just said:

“Magnus.”

As it was the custom to write both birth and death dates of the departed witch who lay within the tomb, it was also the custom to inscribe the birth and death dates of those loved ones whom they wanted to rest with.

I began scraping away beneath the name Magnus, now curious to see when he had lived.

But just as his name was incomplete, so were his dates. There was a birth date… but no death date.

Odd. Very odd.

Who was Magnus? I could only assume that the lack of death date meant that Magnus had still been alive when Lilith was buried. Although his birth date was far before even Lilith’s birth. He would have been a very, very old warlock.

I furrowed my brows, trying to recall if I had ever learnt in history classes about anyone significant called Magnus. I couldn’t.

I realized that I was procrastinating. I shouldn’t have been taking so much interest in something that was probably irrelevant, but right now I was parched for ideas, so I let my mind continue on this tangent.

I found it bizarre that Lilith would have requested someone to be written on her stone who was not even dead yet. I’d never heard of a witch requesting a living person to be written on their slab. That was considered bad luck.

My mind felt like one big jumbled-up puzzle. Too many pieces with no rhyme or reason as to how to put them together.

I have wasted enough time here already. I should just return to The Shade and try to invoke more memories that will hopefully be of more value than those graveyard ones.

Still, as I kept staring down at that single name with no death date, I couldn’t help but feel that this might be the closest I might come to a clue, no matter how many liters of memory potion I drank.

Chapter 32: Mona

I felt crazy even for thinking it, let alone acting on it. But I did. I decided to stay overnight in that terrifying graveyard. I just couldn’t bring myself to leave The Sanctuary—the only place where I had any chance of discovering some clue about this Magnus person—until I had at least tried to find out about him.

It was custom for the caretaker to come early each morning and clean away the moss from the newer graves up front by the gates. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was still old Shamus on duty.

So there I found myself, huddled against a tree as close to the front gates as possible. Of course, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t shut my eyes even for a moment without feeling jittery. I just kept my gaze on the gates, waiting patiently for the caretaker to walk through once the sun peeked above the horizon.

As it turned out, I was waiting longer than dawn. At least sitting here wasn’t so unbearable once the sun was shining. I was actually starting to enjoy the view. The graveyard was situated on a hill and it overlooked the sparkling ocean.

Judging by the position of the sun, it was almost noon by the time the gates swung open and an old warlock appeared. Indeed, it was Shamus. He looked no less grumpy now than he had all those years ago. Once he had closed the gates behind him, he made his way toward the first grave. I stood before him and relinquished my invisibility spell. His face paled as if he had just seen a ghost.

“Y-You?” His face scrunched up as he squinted at me.

Clearly, he recognized me as the outcast and traitor that I had been labeled again by the white witches. Before he could vanish and inform anyone of my presence, I arrested him with a spell, pinning him to the spot.

I held up my hands. “I am not going to harm you, Shamus,” I said. “I just need to ask you a few questions. Then I promise that I will leave this place.”

He glared daggers at me, but since he had no other option, he nodded.

“I’m going to give you control of your mouth again, but you must promise that you won’t scream or shout. If you do, I’m going to be forced to shut you up again… and perhaps take more drastic measures. Do you understand?”