Chapter 24

  A RAY OF HOPE

  Max watched closely the woman whose presence commanded respect. Her authoritative bearing contrasted with her youthful appearance, as if time had stopped for her, leaving her forever in her early twenties. Something in her sharp, serene gaze made him wonder how someone so young could be part of the venerable Coven of Witches. Her afro hair, adorned with delicate golden pins, swayed slightly in the breeze as she focused on the path, moving forward with measured steps until she stopped in front of an old white wooden bench, almost swallowed by nature.

  — I am very old, Max —she said suddenly, without looking at him, her voice calm yet heavy with a gravity that made his skin prickle. She turned her face just enough to make it clear she had read his thoughts—. I have seen so many things over these centuries: powerful witches, humans of great honor, sunsets that seem from another world… But I have also seen what all of them ignore. —She made a broad gesture, indicating the place, as if she wanted to encompass all witches with her hand—. They believe we were created to guard fleeting stone portals, that we are subordinate to the angels… They are all wrong. —Her expression hardened, and something unreadable flickered in her eyes—. Our creation was not a divine act of protection, but the consequence of failure. The angels did not do their job well. Betrayal and pride condemned them, and we were their punishment. We emerged to clean up their mess, to fight Lucifer’s armies. That is our true purpose: to keep demons at bay, to prevent them from invading or growing in power.

  Teresa paused, her voice faltering slightly as she continued:

  — This brotherhood of covens is an illusion created by the weak, by those who feared facing chaos alone. Weak witches sought comfort in unity, but Asherah… she chose the strong, those who were not afraid to get their hands dirty, to lead. And yet… I am no longer sure what she truly wanted —she lowered her gaze, lost in some distant memory—. These last decades everything has changed. It feels as though the weight of my own sins is catching up with me. I feel the confusion. I don’t fully understand it… But when I saw you, when I felt your anger and your despair, I remembered the first time I manifested magic. I begged for my family, and it was useless. They turned their backs on me… —Her voice trembled slightly, but she quickly regained her composure—. When I heard you, Max, I saw myself reflected in you. I felt that I had become the very thing I swore I would never be.

  Teresa sighed, her gaze dimming for a moment.

  — All of this… everything has been distorted. The Coven of Witches is no longer what it once was. Now it is nothing more than a group of frightened old women, repeating the same mistakes that were once made against us. We have denied so many souls their chance… The Coven was supposed to be a symbol of hope, and in the end we became a symbol of fear. I thought that creating the illusion of being unstoppable would allow us to maintain control, all so that the witch hunts would never happen again. But now… now I feel that we have become the executioners we once wanted so desperately to eradicate.

  — Teresa, it’s not too late to change things —Max said, his voice steady but filled with empathy—. Sabine hasn’t achieved her goal yet, and they all trust you, all of you. Maybe it’s time for change. Perhaps we should stop looking for strength in the individual and start believing in the strength that emerges when all witches stand together.

  Teresa lifted her head, surprised. Her eyes narrowed, shining with a mix of interest and doubt.

  — Wait… there was something in your words… a spark. —The intensity of her gaze unsettled him—. Did you cast a spell together with Melody? Did you connect?

  Max shrugged, confused.

  — Did we connect?

  — The Seven Arcanes… —Teresa murmured in a barely audible voice, as if speaking a forgotten secret. She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them with renewed clarity—. The first witches were not invincible because they possessed arcane magic, magic in its purest state. They were unstoppable because they achieved something beyond imagination: they connected their souls. That is where the idea of covens came from. They believed they could connect their souls and protect one another, but… no one has ever managed it.

  Teresa began to pace back and forth, emotion stirring her words.

  — A spell empowered by seven souls… I always believed it was just a fable, a myth of our world. But now I see it: as a single being, they conjured a spell that changed the course of everything. If you and Melody connected, then… this changes everything. —She stopped, watching him intently—. I believed that fighting Sabine was a lost cause, but if the two of you managed it… we can study it. Maybe we don’t need seven souls at the beginning. If we can get at least four witches to connect, we might have a real chance.

  Her face, once marked by resignation, now shone with a spark of hope.

  — This could be our new beginning, Max.

  Teresa signaled Max to follow her with a firm gesture, leading him toward the center of the village. Once there, she climbed onto the great fountain, its surface shimmering with every ripple of water under the magical light that filled the place.

  — Come closer, sisters —she said with a voice charged with emotion, enough to make them all begin to murmur in confusion.

  Frida, a woman with a stern expression, was the first to step forward.

  — Teresa? —she asked, bewildered, while eyeing Max with suspicion—. Did that boy put a spell on you? —She shot him a distrustful look.

  — Frida, this boy showed me something I thought was lost: a ray of hope. And… it is time for change —Teresa declared firmly, taking a deep breath before continuing.

  The crowd of witches began to gather around the fountain, drawn by the authority and weight in Teresa’s voice. Among them were Max’s friends, who watched the scene closely, trying to understand what was happening.

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  Teresa raised her hands, asking for silence, and all voices fell quiet.

  — Sisters, we have survived for centuries through all kinds of adversity. But today I need to speak to you with honesty. —She paused and cast an intense look at the other leaders of the Coven, whose faces reflected tension—. When Asherah chose us to be part of the Coven of Witches and granted us the gift of not aging, she also entrusted us with a truth. For a long time, the angels made us believe they were invincible, that our existence was meant to serve them, under their command. We believed that lie. We upheld it because we thought it was the only way to bring order to our realm. But we were wrong.

  Teresa stopped for a moment, swallowing the knot in her throat.

  — Our true purpose was never to submit to the angels. Asherah did not create us for that. Our mission was to protect this world, to keep under control the demons who sought to destroy it. But I… —she paused, meeting the questioning looks of her sisters—. I believed that “control” meant subjugating them, enslaving them. Now I understand: she did not want to strip them of their freedom, but to allow them to choose. We were not their jailers, but the guardians of that delicate balance.

  Some witches exchanged uncertain glances, while others crossed their arms, tense. Teresa continued.

  — We have done atrocious things believing the angels were right, things we justified through fear. But they… they were no better than us. Fear blinded us all for far too long. However, sisters… today it ends! —she exclaimed, raising her fist into the air—. I can no longer sleep at night thinking about the sisters who have died… because of me.

  The confession struck the crowd like lightning. A heavy silence fell over the place, broken only by the murmur of the fountain’s water.

  — Eighteen years ago, the Coven received news of a girl. A small witch, half demon. In our ignorance, we saw her as a threat. Instead of guiding her, of offering her light and hope, we sent the Raven Clan to kill her. Today, her mother has returned seeking revenge, massacring our covens, our sisters, mothers, friends, and daughters. And I… I was part of that decision. I am sorry. I know it is too late for my apologies to mean anything.

  A silent tear rolled down Teresa’s face, and for an instant she seemed smaller, more human.

  — I had given up, sisters. I had accepted that we would die in this war. But something changed. Max and Melody did something that has not happened since the time of the Seven Arcanes. —The eyes of the crowd turned to the young ones, and Melody, visibly confused, tried to grasp the weight of Teresa’s words—. They connected. Their souls united. They managed to perform a spell… intertwined, as a single being.

  The murmur among the witches grew, as if hope were awakening after a long slumber.

  From within the crowd, a young teenage girl stepped forward with steady strides toward Teresa. Her expression was gentle, but her voice rang out with strength as she spoke:

  — Great Witch Teresa, what you have done hurts me. My mother died fighting in the New Moon coven. But if there is one thing I want, it is that her death not be in vain. —She turned to look at the rest of the witches, her eyes shining with determination—. Sisters, I know you are angry. You have every right to be. But we are at war. We have lost too much, and yes, it hurts. But we cannot give up. We cannot hide, like in the dark days of the witch hunts. That is over. I am a witch! And as such, I refuse to run. I will fight, not only for myself, but for the sisters who will come after us. Let us fight, not for revenge, but for a better future!

  The young girl raised her fist into the air, and one by one, the other witches followed her lead.

  With solemn gestures and faces full of determination, all the witches raised their fists to the sky. They had made their decision: they would not die without fighting.

  Teresa watched the women around her with renewed pride. For so long she had associated unity with weakness, but now she saw how wrong she had been. Before her were not fearful witches; they were strong women, willing to face everything together, their power multiplying with every bond they shared.

  — Wonderful speech, Teresa —said a voice laden with authority. Madame Liona emerged from the crowd, a faint smile reflecting her approval—. I’m glad you’ve finally taken the blindfold off. —She advanced with confident steps until she stood before them all, her presence radiating a mix of solemnity and confidence—. However, what we are facing is no ordinary threat.

  An uneasy murmur rippled through the witches, but Liona raised a hand to silence them.

  — I have been investigating. Sabine is not simply a powerful witch… she is the eighth arcana. —Silence fell like a crushing weight over those present—. Yes, that very one. The one who betrayed the others and was condemned to wander until death. But she found a way to evade her fate. She commands archaic magic.

  The witches’ faces filled with confusion and fear.

  — If any of you do not understand what that means, I will explain —Liona continued, her gaze severe—. Archaic magic is the purest of all. It is a power that encompasses everything: demonic magic, beast magic, quantum magic, and any other that exists. That makes Sabine far more dangerous than any demon. And although Teresa’s words and the young girl’s speech were beautiful, we cannot win this battle with speeches alone. This witch has lived a very long time, moving among mortals, bringing chaos wherever she went: Adolf Hitler in Germany, Caligula in Rome, Yang Guan in China, among so many others who were influenced by her darkness.

  Liona pointed toward the village entrance with a decisive motion of her hand.

  — That is why I have brought special help.

  Heads turned toward the entrance, where a group of figures was beginning to approach. Angels with majestic wings, witches with radiant auras, demons with defiant gazes, and… humans.

  — Humans? —Melody asked, bewildered, looking at Madame Liona in disbelief.

  — Girl, they are not just any kind of humans. —Liona smiled with a flash of satisfaction—. They are the Order of Atlantis. Humans trained generation after generation to protect the mortal realm from supernatural threats. They are old allies. —She looked meaningfully at the man leading the group. He returned the gesture with a wink and a smile full of familiarity.

  — Oh, Madame Liona —Melody murmured, stifling a small laugh that quickly vanished when Liona turned toward her with a stern look.

  Teresa took advantage of the moment to address the crowd.

  — Everyone here is fighting for the same thing —she said firmly, her tone filled with conviction—. Today is the time to leave our differences behind. You don’t need to fight for those standing beside you right now, but remember those you love. Fight for them, and give everything in this battle so they may see the sun one more day.

  The crowd fell silent, absorbing Teresa’s words, until a sudden movement drew everyone’s attention. Sofía ran toward two women who, though covered in dust and bearing visible wounds, were still standing.

  — Moms! —Sofía cried, hugging them so tightly she almost wouldn’t let them breathe.

  — We thought that… —Miriam tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she wrapped her daughter and her wife in a warm embrace, letting the tears flow freely.

  Gabriel approached with hesitant steps, his eyes shining with restrained emotion. Miriam and Esther saw him and pulled him into an embrace full of love and relief.

  — I’m glad you’re okay, Gabriel —Esther said, kissing his forehead as she held him close.

  — Mom… —Gabriel whispered, unable to go on, his voice breaking.

  — I know, my child. —Esther hugged him tightly, stroking his hair as if to make sure he was real—. We saw the explosion… Your mother did everything she could. She saved those she could and had the chance to escape, but she saw you in danger. She would never abandon someone she loves.

  The four of them melted into a deep embrace, letting tears and relief speak for them.