CHAPTER 318: A NEW COVEN

If Atlas was to find out the truth... he would be beyond heartbroken. The poor man has swallowed pain raw, believing that he had given up his life for the happiness of the woman he loves. But it turns out that Circe who couldn’t bear to see his death put him to sleep for his sake while out of anger had sacrificed so many lives for him.

She had given up everything.... Even if it means cursing her entire coven and turning her own people against her.

Lastor then held his hand with a small smile, "But she was loved."

Arabella could see how Lastor seemed to notice how she had felt saddened for Circe and spoke as though to ease the sadness she had sympathized toward the witch.

"Was she? But the coven, they hated her," she whispered and Lastor shook his head in response.

"Only Morpheus hated her," answered Lastor with a sigh, "Of course with a few others and by that I mean a few other sorcerers who followed Morpheus’s side as they had always been frustrated by Circe’s teaching of never going against humans. The rest? They wished that they could have helped her or tried to understand her more. After all she had saved them so to their eyes she’s a goddess."

Arabella briefly wondered if that means that even in the sorcerer palace there are two polarizing factions. Perhaps if Ariel was lucky she could find the right faction and perhaps could stray far away from Morpheus bad’s intention.

"They must be willing to follow you as well," Lastor then continued, reaching out his hand to her fingers. "Some of them would like to retire from the palace for good while some others, they would not think twice to help you."

"But I’m not Circe nor am I her granddaughter," she said with a frown but Lastor smiled.

"Magics have traces Princess. Yours especially have the same trace as her. The other sorcerer would soon notice and when they do, you can finally be at ease with followers who are loyal to you."

Arabella blinked as she reeled something in, "Was this what you have planned from the start, Lastor?"

Lastor went quiet while her eyes studied him, "You wanted me to learn magic not only to prevent my magic from exploding but also to make the other sorcerer realizes that they could move to follow another witch?"

"Yes," Lastor answered with all honesty, "My priority is you, Your Highness. The second priority is the fellow sorcerer in the palace who has lost all reason to be alive. They had done nothing but stay in the palace for such a long time, at such a loss as they had lost the only person who had lead them out of their darkness. I don’t want them to... perish."

"But I don’t plan on becoming a leader, Lastor. I don’t think I can control a coven," she said with a frown of concern. It wasn’t anger as she knew that Lastor was truthful in his mission to help and protect her. His other goal of protecting his own people wasn’t harmful at all and if she could she would want to help him but to... lead a whole coven on her own?

She didn’t think she was capable for it.

"I don’t have it in me, I’m just a village girl."

"That’s where you are wrong princess," Lastor pulled her hand into a tight hold, as if to share his strength, "You are powerful. Not only your magic is limitless but the kindness in your heart and the strength to overcome difficulties for the people you care for, that’s something a leader need. And, you won’t be alone anymore."

He gently looked to her green eyes, his own emerald eyes brimming with a sense of hope, "I will help you as you reach your goal and there are many others on your side who would be willing to lend a hand as well."

Arabella felt the overwhelming hope coming from Lastor but she didn’t feel it to be burdensome. She didn’t feel frightened, rather this heartbeat feels as though she was about to open her birthday present, clearly excited and eager yet a little afraid of disappointment.

Deep down, can she do this?

To lead a coven, to protect them, to stand by Cassius as a fellow leader.

"It’s still a conversation to be talked again soon," Lastor slowly pulled his hand away, "therefore you should take your time and think about it. Even if deep down I wish for you to take the place of Circe, I wouldn’t want to impose you or force you into taking such a heavy role."

"I understand," she answered Lastor with a faint smile. Then briefly she looked at him again, "Did you loved Circe?"

Lastor was momentarily stunned. He parted his lips and words choked on his throat. He slowly smile yet his eyes was filled with sadness as he said, "No, not anymore. However to me she is someone I worship. My goddess."

Arabella could understand that admiration and affection was deeper and perhaps as strong as Atlas’s. But only now could Arabella understood what kind of woman Circe is. Although she still hadn’t seen her or heard enough about Circe, she could imagine her to be quite similar to herself, forced to face options she didn’t want to and someone willing to sacrifice her own life for the sake of the person she cares.

That night Arabella slept quite easily. Perhaps because she had heard what had bothered her and the truth that had took place years ago, she could finally rest despite being nervous about Cassius’s court.

The next morning she was greeted by the cat lala who had meowed as if to get her attention. The cat circled around her feet quite affectionately and despite always being always so affectionate towards her, she was oddly circling around her ankles even more, as if she was trying to brush her fur clean on her.

"Do you want a bath lala?" Bella asked as there was still time until the court starts but Lala meowed with a shake of her head, refusing to the bath as though she was understanding of all the words she had said.

"Then why are you rubbing on me so much? Do you like the smell?" She asked as lala meowed with a smile. "But why my ankle-..." Arabella then looked down to find that there was a handkerchief tied to her ankle and in it was a crush herbs known well for treating twisted muscles.

But she hadn’t told anyone about this...

Walking out of the room, she immediately noticed Atlas who was sleeping outside the door, squatting in front of it with his head plopped on the frame door, deep in his sleep that he didn’t even notice the door had been opened.

"Atlas," she called and the blue eyed man slowly rouse from his sleep.

He smiled widely, "Don’t worry I didn’t touch your ankle. Back in my time touching a woman’s ankle means almost similar to stealing their virginity, so I requested the maid with the long black hair to tie it on your ankle. She had to go too thus I waited here alone on her station."

"But you’re asleep," she teased and Atlas chuckled.

"I think you have forgotten that I was once known as the king of Versailles due to my ability to kill. I was crowned for all my history of never losing a battle once you know."

Arabella chuckled, finding Atlas to be more similar to a grandfather despite his youthful appearance.

"But Atlas," she lifted her ankle and hummed, "this herbs... they’re mostly used by witches aren’t they?"

"Mhm taught by the very best witch herself," Atlas looked afar as he muttered, "Circe always taught me similar medicines for fever, flu, and a few other flesh injuries."

Meow.

A sudden cry came from lala the cat. Her bright green eyes stared at Atlas with wide shock. Then it hissed as if it was angered but the two humans couldn’t comprehend the emotion of the said cat.

When Atlas was about to give the cat a pet with his eyes wide and sparkly of hope and excitement, he was met with an instant rejection as the cat clawed through his palm, leaving a wide three diagonal scar across his knuckles.

Atlas didn’t wince once but he clearly looked upset. His lips pouted as he stared at the cat lala, as if trying to sway the cat into allowing him to touch her but instead the cat hissed even louder, angered to even see the sight of Atlas.

Before they could try to coax her, the cat lala ran through the hallways, disappearing with just white fluffy tail dangling around like a dandelion.

"Your cat..." Atlas said with a pout, "is very pretty but why does she hates me?"

"It might be the smell of herbs," but Arabella knew well that lala seemed to like the smell of herbs from her ankle which meant that the cat was simply throwing a small tantrum.

"Hm, well," Atlas patted his own hand with the small pout, "Since she’s cute, I’ll let it go. Ah right When

will the court starts?"