Chapter 116: The Moth and the Light
**Thelma Zane’s POV**
The bitter truth weighed heavily on my mind–there was no way to control the *Eye of Insight *. The revelation echoed in my thoughts like a haunting refrain.
What would this mean for Dorothy? Would she suffer the same tragic fate as Mullvica, the prophetic witch who had perished far too young
Master Mary placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, her voice steady and reassuring. ” There is always a way out, Miss Thelma. Dorothy will be safe and sound. Don’t let despair cloud your judgment.”
I shook my head, my voice trembling as I replied “But even the witches, with all their knowledge, have no way to control the *Eye of Insight*. If Dorothy…” My voice faltered. “If she succumbs to this curse, how could I ever face her? How could I live with myself knowing I brought her into this?”
I had been so confident when I involved Dorothy in this whirlwind of danger and uncertainty. I had cloaked my selfishness in the guise of heroism, using words like *honor* and *destiny* to persuade her. And now, as the shadows of the Eye of Insight* loomed over her, I was forced to confront my own arrogance.
What right did I have to gamble with Dorothy’s life? Could I shoulder the burden of her fate in her place? Such an endeavor was beyond human reach–it was the domain of gods. Any mortal who dared overstep those boundaries would pay a devastating price.
Punishment didn’t frighten me. What terrified me was the thought of the people I loved, and who loved me, suffering because of my actions.
While I wrestled with my guilt, Master Mary’s voice broke through my thoughts. “It’s not as hopeless as it seems,” she said, her tone measured and calm.
“What do you mean?” I asked, clinging to the glimmer of hope in her words.
“Adele might be knowledgeable, but she’s still just an ordinary witch,” Master Mary explained. “You heard her yourself–she admitted she knows very little about prophetic witches. The *Eye of Insight is their closely guarded secret. It’s only natural that an outsider like Adele wouldn’t have the full picture.”
Her words pierced the fog of despair clouding my mind. Of course. Why had I been so quick to believe Adele? She wasn’t a prophetic witch. Her knowledge was limited at best.
“And think about it,” Master Mary continued. “Mullvica lived three centuries ago. Just because there was no solution in her time doesn’t mean prophetic witches have been idle since then. They’re a rare bloodline, yes, but they’re not helpless. If they hadn’t found a way to survive and adapt, they would’ve been wiped out long ago by those who covet their power.”
Chapter 116 The Mall and the Light
Her argument was compelling. If prophetic witches had persisted despite their vulnerabilities, they must have discovered means to mitigate the curse of the Eye of Insight*.
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“Besides,” Master Mary added, “Adele thrives on manipulation. She’s the kind of enjoys watching her opponents falter. Her claims were probably designed to confuse and demoralize us.”
She was right. I straightened my shoulders and nodded firmly. “You’re absolutely right. I let Adele’s words shake me, but I won’t make that mistake again.”
Calmness began to replace the turmoil within me. My parents had always taught me the importance of staying composed, especially in moments of decision–making. Allowing the enemy to manipulate my emotions was a mistake I couldn’t afford to repeat.
Despite Adele’s deception, her words had provided two potential leads: the witch clan in the Rocky Mountains and the prophetic wizard rumored to be living near the Elf Forest. The latter intrigued me most–it felt like a thread connecting to Dorothy’s elusive past.
Driven by this intuition, I sought out Dorothy to discuss the possibility.
To my surprise, she didn’t seem shocked by the revelation. It was as if she had known all along where her father might be. She quietly retrieved a photo album and handed it to me.
“This album is all I have left of my mother,” Dorothy said softly. “My grandmother burned the rest of her belongings. I managed to save this by hiding it.” She opened the album with care, her fingers lingering on one particular photograph. “Do you see this? It’s the only picture of my parents and me. But it’s not real. My mother cut out our individual photos and pasted them together. The background is a forest–probably added for effect.”
She traced the edges of the picture with her fingertips, her voice tinged with longing. “I’ve spent years wondering where they lived in seclusion. It couldn’t have been among humans. that would’ve been too dangerous. And the witch clans don’t welcome outsiders. But when I look at this photo, I feel like the forest might hold the answer. The Elf Forest, perhaps. A place secluded and accepting enough for a prophetic wizard to find refuge.”
Her reasoning resonated with me. “Then we should go there,” I suggested. “If the Elf Forest might hold the key to finding your father, it’s worth a try.
Dorothy hesitated, her expression conflicted. After a long silence, she finally said, “Maybe… but I don’t know.”
Her uncertainty was understandable. Her journey had been fraught with loss and betrayal. Her only family, her grandmother, had given her a childhood filled with pain and instability. Seeking answers about her father might open old wounds she wasn’t ready to face.
I reached out to embrace her gently. “Dorothy, listen to me,” I said, my voice soft but firm. “If you’re not ready, we don’t have to go. Your well being is more important than anything else. We can explore other options, like the witch clan in the Rocky Mountains. Whenever you’re
ready–if you’re ready–we can revisit the idea of going to the Elf Forest.”
Η
Her tense shoulders relaxed slightly, and she nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered.
I understood her hesitation on a deeply personal level. As someone who had also grown up with unanswered questions about my origins, I knew how it felt to long for answers while fearing the pain they might bring. Dorothy’s journey was her own, and I wouldn’t force her to confront something she wasn’t prepared for.
For now, we would turn our attention to the witch clan in the Rocky Mountains. But deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the Elf Forest held the answers Dorothy sought–and perhaps the solution to the curse of the *Eye of Insight*.
Chaplée 111- The Lovestory of the Enemm
Chapter 117: The Love Story of the Enemy
