My Long Lost Mate - Chapter 166

The cave was dead silent, with only the distant sound of water flowing through the tunnels and our steady breathing to be heard. After the previous events with the bats, Maggie grew quiet, perhaps too tired to actually do anything.

Her usual long black curls had become an unruly mess, and it would require extra effort and patience to restore them to their normal state. She was also wearing a newly designed cape, which had several holes around it to make it even more stylish and unique, all thanks to the bats.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she hissed, noticing the way I’d been stealing glances at her. “…or I will throw you to the bats.”

Though I doubted she’d dare to do it after what happened, I stopped looking at her and walked straight ahead, holding the light potion close to me. I mean… she always acted like she was one hell of a witch, but then she couldn’t even escape the bats if not for my help.

“Just so you know, I didn’t ask for your help because I was weak, but because I don’t want to waste too much energy when we haven’t reached Larion yet,” she continued, wiping the little blood on her body with a napkin.

Did she just read my mind?

“I know,” I said, not wanting to say anything more. I knew that the more I brought it up, the more upset she’d become. I’d like to continue with our adventure in a calm and peaceful environment.

Despite my wish to end the conversation, she continued on, wanting to clarify whatever had occurred just a moment before. Her pride would not allow us to leave it behind without a clear explanation.

“Besides, every witch has a specialty in magic, and mine, coincidentally, is not attacking.”

“Then what is it?”

“What do you think it is?”

“Bluffing?” I joked—well, half-joking, half-serious.

“I make potions, you idiot,” she angrily threw the frog doll at me, not liking the joke I’d made. “And I craft magic items like Coco and that frog.”

Oh. No wonder she had all those strange-coloured potions in her bag, not to mention the few questionable-looking dolls.

“But can’t all witches do that?” I asked, knowing that witches are known for their potions and magic items. This question is not meant for me, though.

“Yes, but not everyone is good at it,” she said as she kicked a small rock on the ground, creating an echo that ultimately became the loudest sound in this place. “A few of them may end up hazardous, and a few potions may end up as poisons instead. But everything I make is always guaranteed to be effective, and there’s no potion in the world that I can’t make,” she tossed her hair behind, slapping my face in the process as she bragged about her amazing ability.

She said that every witch has their own specialty in magic, but I wonder what mine is? Do I even have it when I can’t even control my magic properly?

“Do you think I will have my own specialty as well?” I asked, holding the frog in my hands.

Maggie appeared to have sewed both Coco and this frog to life, but the more I looked at it, the more I realized Maggie had absolutely no talent for sewing. Both of the dolls I saw had to live with a few of their body parts that were torn or sewed in an unusual—no, rather, unique way. Even this frog had to live without knowing where to look, as its eyes were sewn in opposite directions.

“Why are you asking that to me?” She huffed, and I could almost see her rolling her eyes at me even when she had her back towards me.

As expected, it would only be good to ask her questions when there’s money involved. Ah, wait. Don’t I—Luke need to pay for this expedition as well? I guess I do have to be careful when asking her for a favor.

Should I ask her to pay me if she needs my help again later?

“You could have one… if you try hard enough,” she suddenly added, jerking me away from my thoughts as I began to consider how much money I should charge her for my service. “For us, witches, using magic should be as natural as breathing, so I don’t understand why you’re having a hard time controlling your magic.”

Using magic should be as natural as breathing? How come it’s not natural for me? Is it because it’s been trapped inside for too long? Even someone who doesn’t talk for a very long time will have difficulty speaking when they finally do, so I suppose this answer makes sense. Perhaps my body has forgotten how to use my magic naturally after losing it for such a long time.

But really, why did my mom seal my magic inside me? And why didn’t she tell me about it?

“If I try hard enough, what kind of specialty will I have?”

“There are a lot of them,” she came to a halt, placing her palm on the light potion so that it won’t be as bright, “Some of it is something you were born with, and some of it is something you have to learn and master. It can be as simple as talking with the animals or as terrifying as resurrecting the dead.”

“Were you born with yours?”

“As if,” a laugh full of irony escaped her lips, and yet another rock was thrown deep into the cave. “I went through hell to be as good as I am today. I’m not as lucky as a certain someone,” she clicked her tongue.

A certain someone? Is she talking about her sister, the blood witch? Now that I think about it, she never really talks about how she got separated from her sisters. Given the fact that there were only a few black witches around, and also the fact that they were being hunted, wouldn’t it be safer for her to stay with her sisters? Why did she decide to stay by herself?

Just as I was contemplating whether or not I should ask about it, Maggie pointed in the direction in front of us, where something that looked like a way out could be seen. There was finally another light source ahead, other than the light potion.

“I think this is it,” she said, walking a little faster than before. “It should be around here…” she pulled the light potion from my hand, holding it closer to her face. She started looking for something on the ground but remained tight-lipped about it.

Couldn’t she at least tell me what to look for?

We walked closer to the exit, to the blinding light with genuine happiness, but when we finally reached the exit and were ready to step out of the cave… I realized there was no exit, to begin with.

“Ouch!” I winced in pain as I felt myself collapsing against something hard and sturdy with far too much force than I’d prefer.

“Stupid, there’s no exit there,” Maggie said, shaking her head in disapproval as she did. “It’s an illusion.”

“You could have told me sooner…” I whined, rubbing my nose to ease the pain. Did I break my nose?

I carefully extended my hand and looked up to the exit—to the blue sky and the flying birds—but all I felt was an invisible barrier that prevented me from exiting. It could very well be the cave’s wall.

“I didn’t know you were that stupid,” she replied nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders as if she didn’t give a damn about me after seeing me crash into the wall with her own eyes… that is, until I noticed the tip of her lips curling upward.

That old witch… she was waiting for that to happen.

I brushed the dust off my cape and stood firm on the ground, glaring at the woman who was trying hard not to laugh in front of me. “You can stop pretending,” I said, and she immediately burst out laughing. This woman has no shame. “What are we supposed to look for?”

She took a moment to respond to me, distracted by her laughter. Her previously poor mood appears to have improved after witnessing my misfortune, which I’m not sure is a good or bad thing. I’ll just take it as a good thing.

“A rock,” she said, her eyes twinkling with glee as she bent down to pick up a rock. Is that what she was looking for? The color of the rock in her hand appeared to be darker than that of the normal ones, and it was also rounder and less prickly than usual. “Or rather… a bomb.”

Immediately after, a smile so wide and bright appeared on her face, giving me no time to respond to her nonsense before she threw the rock to the ground as the world beneath us crumbled.

BAAAMM!!!