“A skilled wizard of the dark arts cast the curse that killed Charlotte Cromwell.” The police detective stated to the public, sympathetic gaze settling on Lucien and his family huddled together amongst curious folks. “We haven’t witnessed black magic like this in years, not since the case of Emmaline Vale nearly twenty years ago, but we’re determined to find the wizard responsible for this heinous crime.”
Murmurs of uneasiness spread through the crowd like a wildfire. Lucien’s mom sniveled beside him, burying her face in her hands to hide her tears. Lucien remembered hearing stories about Emmaline Vale, a distant cousin of Castor’s who went insane after going on a murder spree, cursing anyone who dared to even look at her wrong.
Who would do something like that to Charlotte? Earlier that evening, Lucien visited her at the bakery and she never showed an ounce of worry. She didn’t mention anyone threatening her or anyone acting strangely around her. Why would they target someone so loving? Only a cruel bastard could be capable of such a heinous crime.
Castor brushed his shoulder against his, keeping his head low to prevent others from noticing him. “How are you holding up?” he whispered.
Lucien broke away from his mother and the crowd, dragging Castor behind a neighbor’s thick oak tree. Tears threatened to spill again as Lucien just shook his head, unable to speak. His eyes were still puffy from crying his soul out during the night.
None of it seemed real. Lucien almost expected to wake from a nightmare and find Charlotte in their home that morning baking her famous blueberry muffins. Despite the visit from the detectives and their public announcement, her death still hadn’t fully settled in. Charlotte had her whole life ahead of her. Who would he run to when he needed advice or to rant about the Supernatural Council? He needed his sister by his side.
“If you need anything, let us know.” Castor embraced him, then gently pulled back.
“Who would do this?” Lucien choked out.
“I don’t know, but Mom’s letting me help where I can. I actually found some of the black magic’s residue left behind at the crime scene,” Castor explained. “Death of a Thousand Sins. That’s the name of the curse that killed her.”
Lucien tensed at the terms. Crime scene. Death of a Thousand Sins. That just made it all the more real. Someone murdered his sister and fled into the night, but not before almost finishing him off in the process. But how did Castor know so much about death curses? Lucien considered questioning him about it, but did he really want to know the truth?
“What about that shadowy figure we saw?” Lucien asked instead. “Did you tell your mom about that?”
Castor nodded. “I did, but I don’t know how useful it is. We didn’t get a look at the person’s face, and I’m not sure if my spell did any damage. I think it only worked because they grew weaker or feared someone seeing them.”
“This can’t be happening.” Lucien paced in a small circle, inhaling sharp, frantic breaths. “Why Charlotte? I don’t get it. Who would risk their own life and their own magic to kill her?”
“I don’t know.” Castor rubbed his chin, sparing a glance out at the crowd listening to the police detective. “Maybe an outsider? Someone from another town?”
“But why?” Lucien shook his head. “Who hated her enough to do this? Charlotte didn’t deserve that. She had no enemies capable of doing this. You didn’t see her take her last breaths like I did. She was terrified of something before she died.” He clenched down on his teeth, closing his sullen eyes for a moment. There were no more tears left in him to shed.
“Probably the curse itself. I can’t speak from personal experience, but the point of most death curses is to frighten its victim to death,” Castor explained, grimacing. “I’m sorry, I don’t want that image ingrained in your mind of your sister suffering before she died.”
“Too late,” Lucien muttered, but it raised more questions. “How do you know so much about death curses? It’s forbidden to teach. I never heard of them being used to frighten someone to death.”
Castor rubbed the back of his neck. He was surprised that Lucien didn’t question him about it sooner and figured he should be honest. “Well, it’s family tradition to learn about those sorts of things. My folks never agreed with the way our school handled the topic of dark magic and wanted me to learn it, just in case.”
Lucien’s eyes widened like saucers as he whisper-shouted, “You practiced black magic?”
“I mean, yeah.” Castor shrugged. “I’m not powerful enough to cast a death curse, if that’s what you’re asking. It takes a monumental amount of mental strength to cast one. How do you think I blocked that curse sent toward you? A normal spell wouldn’t have done anything to it. You could’ve died.”
“I-I just assumed it was a simple counter-attack spell,” Lucien replied. “Someone tried to curse me to death last night too, didn’t they?”
Castor nodded. “Two death curses in such a small amount of time drains the hell out of a wizard, so that means we’re dealing with someone powerful. Someone who knows their shit.”
Lucien reeled back, still facing the fact that someone had almost killed him last night alongside his sister. They would have if Castor hadn’t come to his rescue. Chills pricked at his skin as he tried to think of anyone who despised them that much. Who wanted them dead? What did they do to someone to warrant such hatred?
“Lucien, I’ve got your back, okay? If there’s some psycho wizard wanting to kill you, I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe,” Castor said, determination sparking in his eyes.
Lucien lowered his head with a groan of frustration. “We couldn’t save Charlotte. Why would it be any different now? Even the police detectives are at a loss. Do you think they’re well versed in dark magic? Because I don’t.”
“But I am. My family is,” Castor pointed out. “We can help you, if you’ll let us. My mom and I already helped the police detectives with identifying the kind of black magic used. And I can help teach you about...” He gazed around, whispering softly, “Death curses.”
Unease blossomed in Lucien’s chest. Black magic was forbidden from teachings before they were even born. Just the thought of learning such horrific curses was difficult to stomach. Nobody needed to wield that kind of power in their hand or wand.
Despite how much Lucien cared for his childhood friend and his family, he couldn’t succumb to those dark temptations. He wanted nothing to do with black magic.
“Lucien.”
“I need to get back to my mom,” Lucien said, and turned to hurry back into the crowd before he caught up to him.
It couldn’t be possible. Castor and his family would never hurt Charlotte, but who else in town could cast death curses? Not to say it was impossible no other families knew, but it wasn’t common practice nor something anyone else ever shared. Maybe it really was an outsider who killed her, but why? What could their motive possibly be?
Lucien just didn’t understand why Castor’s family broke the laws about black magic. They wanted to end the reign of terror it brought, but that would never happen if they kept teaching it. Charlotte would still be alive if it weren’t for that death curse.
Amongst the neighbors, whispers traveled all around him. He froze in his tracks when rumors of the Vale family’s involvement reached his ears. With a painful gulp, Lucien pushed himself through their worried gossiping to his mother, who clung to his father.
Castor and his family had to be innocent. Despite their knowledge of black magic and curses, Lucien knew deep down in his heart that none of them would ever hurt Charlotte. But that left the question of who the hell did.
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