Chapter 6: Vengeance Complete, A New Dawn

Actually, that day in the dorm, I was already beaten to death by them. My overwhelming hatred kept me from disappearing, and with my special constitution, ordinary people saw me as normal. But my body was only being kept together by witch’s magic. Only people from Maple Hollow could tell at a glance that I was already dead.

I was a ghost, a shell held together by anger and magic. The truth was both freeing and terrifying. I shivered. What was I now?

Now that I had returned home and taken my revenge, my wish was fulfilled. I just hoped that before I died, I could walk around the village, see the scenery of my hometown, and my old home. See my mother…

The longing ached deep in my chest. I wanted one last look at the world I’d lost. Maybe then I could rest.

The councilman looked at me worriedly, his big hands steady and warm. “Child, your mother’s grave is still behind the woods. You can go see her.” I held back my tears and nodded.

His kindness surprised me, but I clung to it. I needed something good to hold onto, just for a moment. Maybe not everyone here was a monster.

The village wasn’t big. With the locals’ directions, I soon arrived at the grave. I stumbled to the grave, tears blurring my vision, and knelt down with a thud. A child’s love comes too late. A small mound of earth, with my dearest one buried below. Luckily, like the other graves, there were no weeds around it—it was kept very clean. I suppose, in the afterlife, she would be comforted too.

The earth was cool beneath my palms. I traced her name on the stone, whispering apologies and prayers. The wind rustled through the trees, carrying her memory back to me. I closed my eyes, letting the ache settle.

I lowered my head and wiped my tears, sitting for a long time. Dazed, I walked back to the yard and saw the councilman ordering some men to open the room on the west side, dragging someone out. That person wore tattered clothes, their gender hard to tell, the one visible eye staring at the sky, hiding like a frightened bird.

The person whimpered, shrinking away from the light. The councilman’s men dragged them roughly, their faces hard. I watched, curiosity and pity warring in my chest. Who was this?

The councilman was stunned to see me, but quickly recovered and asked why I was back so soon. I ignored him, only wanting to know what crime that person had committed to end up like this.

“It’s a long story…”

The councilman sighed and shook his head. “That person wanted to learn the highest witchcraft, and caused a ruckus at the guardian’s tree, angering the guardian spirit and bringing a heavy storm!”

“Such a disaster can’t be left unchecked, or the guardian’s anger won’t subside!”

His words were heavy with tradition, the weight of old secrets. I nodded, understanding more than I let on. Some things never change.

I nodded. Since this person angered the guardian, they couldn’t be let off. Might as well send them to the guardian’s church and execute them publicly tomorrow as a warning to others. The councilman hesitated, but agreed in the end. He also had people prepare dinner, telling me to rest and get ready to watch the execution tomorrow.

The air in the house was thick with tension. I ate in silence, my mind racing. The councilman’s eyes lingered on me, as if weighing my soul. I didn’t trust him for a second.

Night soon fell. I blew out the candle and lay quietly on the bed. Thinking back on the past, I couldn’t help but feel emotional. Half asleep, I heard the door being pushed open. No matter how soft the sound, I could hear the footsteps. Someone was coming.

My heart pounded, every sense on high alert. The floor creaked, the door groaned open. I held my breath, waiting. Please let it be nothing.

The person walked slowly, as if hiding a candle, the light flickering with each step. The closer the candle got, the more uncomfortable I felt, as if electricity was running through me, every pore screaming. The person got closer, and by the candlelight I saw it was the councilman. Fighting the strange feeling, I spoke: “Councilman, why are you here in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?”

The old man grinned, watching me warily.

“You’re not asleep… Good, then you’ll sleep forever.”

His grin was wolfish, the candle’s red glow making his wrinkles look deeper, more sinister. My skin crawled, instinct screaming at me to run. I had to get out—now.

I scrambled out of bed, pouring water from the table onto him. My body was only being held together by witch’s magic. He brought the candle to burn me. If I touched the fire, I’d be done for. The old man grinned, his yellow teeth and foul breath making me gag.

“Mariah!”

I panted and shouted. She crashed through the door, pounced like a ghost, and tore off a chunk of flesh. The councilman howled, letting go, the red candle rolling aside.

The room erupted in chaos. Mariah’s ghost shrieked, her nails sinking into his flesh. The candle guttered out, smoke curling to the ceiling. I stumbled back, heart hammering. No way out but through.

The red curtain nearby caught fire, burning fast. I didn’t dare get close. I didn’t have much time.

Flames licked up the wall, heat pushing me back. The smoke stung my eyes, filling my lungs with ash. I coughed, eyes streaming.

I stood in front of the old councilman. His eyes were cloudy as he looked at me. His old body couldn’t withstand Mariah’s attack and soon collapsed, panting on the ground.

“Why do you want to kill me?”

He snorted, spitting at me, fearless even facing death. Right, he was the respected councilman. What could I do to him?

His pride was unbreakable, even as he bled. I met his gaze, refusing to back down. I was done being afraid.

“If you tell me the reason, I’ll spare your life.” I pointed at the burning curtain, then at Mariah. “Burn to death or be tortured by her—choose.”

There was only one answer. If he didn’t speak, he’d die.

The choice was clear. He looked at the flames, then at Mariah, his bravado crumbling. I could see the fear in his eyes now.

He was cunning, and immediately crawled to my feet like a stray dog, pouring out everything.

“When you were young, you had amazing talent, the best at magic in the town.”

“Those with the best talent could compete for councilman after turning eighteen.”

“So…”

His confession spilled out in a rush, his dignity forgotten. I listened, anger rising with every word. He’d ruined everything.

Everything suddenly made sense. I glared, grabbing his collar and refusing to let go. “So you sold me to that monster!”

The old man banged his head, blood streaming, sobbing wordlessly.

His tears meant nothing to me. I let him fall, turning away as the smoke thickened. He deserved worse.

The smoke in the room thickened, stinging my eyes. His face was turning purple. I had Mariah block him, and as he stared at me in shock, I ran outside.

“Don’t you want to know where your mother is?”

My heart trembled. I turned to see him looking at me with a half-smile. Even facing death, his face was still arrogant, as if certain I’d let him go. But the hunter stalking the deer doesn’t see the wolf behind. One wrong move.

His arrogance was infuriating. I clenched my fists, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. Not this time.

“You old bastard, did you really think you could fool me?”

I opened the door. Thick smoke billowed behind me. Moonlight shone on me, making me feel calm for the first time in years. Looking back at the three about to be consumed by flames, I finally smiled. It was all over at last. I could breathe.

The night air was cool, the sky clear. I breathed in deeply, letting the past burn away behind me. Finally, I was free. Or as close as I’d ever get.

Relying on memory, I made my way to the back woods. Fortunately, the woods weren’t deep. Soon I arrived at the guardian’s church. My mother, whom I missed so much, was inside.

The church was small, its paint peeling. The door creaked open, revealing the shadows within. My heart pounded as I stepped inside. Please let her be there.

The church door was shabby, creaking as I pushed it open. My mother was kneeling before the guardian’s altar, hair disheveled. Hearing the sound, she turned stiffly. Her thin body burst out with a cry of compassion, “Laney…” I couldn’t help but cry, falling into her warm embrace.

Her arms wrapped around me, fragile but strong. I sobbed into her shoulder, the years of pain and longing finally breaking free. It felt like coming home.

After years apart, she had become like this. Her whole body was skin and bones, her skin festering, not a single spot intact. That old bastard! I glared fiercely back, watching the flames in the valley, wishing I could burn him to ashes!

My rage simmered, but my mother’s touch soothed me. She stroked my hair, humming the lullaby I’d almost forgotten. My heart finally slowed.

My mother stroked my head, her eyes wet as she looked at me. From her, I finally learned the truth of the past. Everyone in this town participated in the election at eighteen, judged by the matriarch. The most talented would become the councilman. My mother was the leader then. At that time, I and the councilman’s son were the best among the younger generation. That day, Charles Dalton came to sketch. I happened to be outside, and the current old councilman, with evil intent, used my orphan status as an excuse to sell me. By the time my mother found out, I was long gone.

Her voice trembled as she recounted the past. I listened, my anger growing with every detail. The betrayal cut deeper than any wound. How could they?

My mother hugged me tightly, as if afraid to lose me again. “I knelt here every day, begging the guardian to show me where you were.”

“But he said I disregarded the town’s interests, incited others to overthrow me, and locked me up at home.”

“Somehow, he became councilman. Fearing the truth would come out, he locked me in that small house for decades.”

Her words were bitter, but her embrace was warm. I held her close, promising I’d never leave her again. Never again.

I remembered the night I handed her the cornbread, how her pupils shrank when she saw me. Her pale knuckles gripped me tightly, sobbing, ‘Laney, is it really you?’ Only then did I realize this disheveled person was my mother.

The realization was a gut punch. I’d walked past her for days, not recognizing the woman who’d given me everything. How could I have missed her?

From then on, I secretly brought her food every day. She’d been locked in that house for years, never seeing the sun, her body very weak. In the whole town, only the councilman could do this.

I snuck food to her under the cover of night, hiding from the councilman’s watchful eyes. Each meal was a small act of rebellion. It was all I could do.

I pretended to visit the grave. The mound had no weeds, clearly newly made to fool me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone following me. To make him let down his guard, I faked crying, playing my part well. I also had him move my mother to the guardian’s church. Everything was prepared for tonight. If he didn’t come for me, I would go for him. He had to die.

I planned every move, every lie. Revenge was a dish best served cold, and I’d waited long enough. No more waiting.

Lost in the past, hatred nearly consumed me. Suddenly, I felt a cool touch on my face. My mother gently stroked me, her eyes gentle, softly asking if I’d been well all these years. As a witch, she could also tell I was no longer human. I sniffled, holding back tears. She was already like this—how could I be childish and add to her burden?

Her love steadied me, pulling me back from the edge. I wiped my tears, determined to make her proud. I owed her that much.

I talked about the scenery outside, about the world. I said my roommates were kind. She seemed to believe me and was happy.

I painted pictures of sunsets, city lights, laughter that never reached my eyes. She smiled, believing every word. I wanted to keep her safe from the truth.

That night was rare and peaceful. We talked, as if making up for the twenty years we’d missed.

For a moment, it was just us—mother and daughter, together again. I let myself believe it could last.

At dawn, I heard men shouting from afar. I rubbed my eyes and saw a strong man standing before me, looking like he wanted to tear me apart.

“You demon girl! What did you do to my dad!”

Oh, so he was the councilman’s son. What a fool.

His fists clenched, his face red with fury. I stood my ground, unafraid. I wasn’t scared of him.

“Do you know who I am?”

I met his angry gaze, then pointed at my mother. “And do you know who she is?”

My voice rang out, clear and strong. The crowd murmured, shifting uneasily. The truth was coming out, whether they liked it or not.

Some of the older locals’ eyes lit up, and they came forward to hold my mother’s hand, addressing her as former councilwoman. When my mother was leader, she was deeply respected. The town was peaceful, everyone competed fairly, and there was never trouble. Since the old man took over, he abolished elections, wanting to pass it to his useless son. But his son’s magic was too weak, so he’d kept the post for so long. The locals dared not speak out.

The old women wept, clutching my mother’s hands. The men bowed their heads, shame coloring their cheeks. The truth was finally out. For once, I felt hope.

I cleared my throat and shouted to the locals, “Back then your dad trafficked me, imprisoned my mother, and yesterday he tried to kill me. I barely escaped. Everything now is his own fault!”

“Now that there’s no leader, we should elect the person best at magic to lead the town, so it won’t fall into the wrong hands!”

My words echoed through the clearing. The younger generation looked at each other, hope flickering in their eyes. Maybe things could change.

The big fool glared at me, his momentum gone. The locals whispered, unable to decide. The younger generation had been suppressed for so long, there were few outstanding youths left.

Uncertainty hung in the air. The old ways had been broken, but nobody knew what came next. I could feel everyone holding their breath.

“Wait…”

An old voice called out. The crowd parted. She leaned on her cane, looking kindly at me. It was the old woman who’d warned me of danger that day!

She smiled, her eyes twinkling. I felt a rush of gratitude, remembering her kindness. Maybe she’d help us now.

She took out a bluish-purple bowl. The matriarch’s charm inside writhed. She carefully placed it on the ground, watching where it went.

“This charm is the queen of a hundred years. It can judge strength. Whoever it chooses will be the next council leader.”

The bowl glimmered in the sunlight. The charm slithered out, its movements hypnotic. I held my breath, watching it crawl.

It slowly crawled out of the bowl, circling the ground. As if it smelled something, it crawled straight toward my mother and me. It climbed up my leg, and I felt a sting on my ankle, a warm sensation spreading through my body.

The pain was sharp, but the warmth that followed was comforting. The crowd gasped, whispering prayers and blessings. I felt something shift inside me.

I looked at my mother in confusion. The old lady clapped and smiled, “It’s you, it’s you!” She bent on her cane, ready to bow. But I couldn’t accept it! I pulled her up, stopping the ceremony.

Her humility touched me. I shook my head, insisting we stand together, equals. I didn’t want to be above anyone.

“The matriarch’s charm knows people and never makes mistakes! From now on, you are our Maple Hollow council leader.”

Everyone agreed. The fool saw the situation and muttered as he slunk away.

The villagers cheered, relief and hope blooming on their faces. The old order was gone. Something new could finally begin. I smiled, feeling lighter than I had in years.

A warm current surged in my chest, tears welling as I looked at my mother. Her face was full of relief. At that moment, nothing else mattered. She had searched for me for years. I would stay by her side and make up for my love.

I cut my palm, letting blood drip onto the charm. I watched it greedily suck my blood and curl up contentedly in my hand. From today on, I, Delaney Brooks, and Maple Hollow are one. I will live and die with the town!

The promise was sealed in blood, binding me to the land and its people. My mother smiled, her eyes shining with pride. I finally felt at home.

Epilogue

Today is Wednesday, the day I have to “report” every week. I gathered the drawing boards and knocked on the office door. Mr. Dalton was different from usual, holding a paintbrush but unable to start, his face full of worry. He must be troubled by the national painting competition.

His office smelled of turpentine and old coffee. He looked up as I entered, his eyes hollow, haunted by memories he couldn’t escape. For a moment, I almost pitied him. Almost.

The timing was right. I put the printed flyer on his desk.

“I heard the scenery here is beautiful, perfect for sketching. Why don’t we go in a few days? Maybe you’ll find inspiration and win first place.”

My voice was sweet, almost innocent. He forced a smile, nodding as he scanned the flyer. The tension in the room was electric. I could feel his nerves.

He glanced at the flyer, praising my good taste. I didn’t say much more. As I left, I glanced at the mirror on the wall. The woman in the mirror was pale as paper, the blood on her head already dried, but her eyes were full of glee.

I caught my own reflection, a ghostly grin spreading across my lips. Justice, at last. It was finally over.

Mr. Dalton, your good days are over.

As I closed the door, the air seemed lighter, the world finally righting itself. Somewhere, my mother watched over me, proud and at peace. And Maple Hollow—my home, my curse, my salvation—was finally mine to protect. I let out a breath I’d been holding for years.