Embers & Spells

10 – The Black Butterfly

Sleep evaded me. My mind was wide awake despite my heavy eyes. If Grammie Nah’s vision was now happening, then maybe it was really in my fate to cross path with the alpha.

A werewolf alpha.

Werewolves were humans who could transform or assumed the form of a wolf in full moon. That was what the dictionary told me so. But according to the old books of Erin, werewolves were once ordinary humans, cursed by an ancient witch by the order of dragon lords. They were made to be vicious soldiers, strong and intelligent and a hunter. But the ancient witch made a mistake because the werewolves could not be tamed and too dangerous to be around other beings. Dragon lords ordered to kill them but it was too late. They already made a pack among themselves and ran off to the woods and disappeared.

I sat up, kicking the blanket away from my legs. Turning to the bedside table, I watched as the digital clock turned 11:00 pm. Knowing that I probably would not be able to sleep with all the thoughts lurking in my head, I decided to feed myself more information about what I was looking for. About what I should be expecting from the deal I had to fulfill.

Snatching my pink hoodie from my table, I grabbed my bag and made my way outside the house.

I rarely rode bicycle. But I craved for fresh air and focus that I welcomed the sensation of pedaling and balancing the pink bicycle Erin gave me on my sixteenth birthday. Night Bookstore was one of those famous book-café in South Lox. Not only it was a two-storey café, but it also boasted at least a thousand books in their shelves. College students were the ones who frequent the place since the store had free wi-fi and private booths for rent for those making book reports or thesis.

It was also my go-to place whenever I needed to kill some time. But tonight, what I needed was how-to-kill-a-werewolf book.

As I parked my bike, I saw something moving, a shadow of a butterfly. Looking around, my stomach sunk seeing the black butterfly that I suddenly kept seeing after getting damned in the underworld.

“What are you?” I whispered to myself, eyeing the odd butterfly, as if summoning me to follow its trail. Or maybe, the appropriate question was- who are you?

The black butterfly lingered for a moment, before gracefully flew inside the book café as one of the customers exited the place.

Follow it. My curiosity nagged at me, my guts telling me it wasn’t just a butterfly. That there was more to it, that it could be an omen. Erin said to look for the omen. Maybe I was looking at it.

I swung the glass door open, the bell chimed as I stepped inside. My eyes adjusted at the dimmed lights, seeing only a few people inside. The butterfly fluttered, snatching my attention, and flew on the second floor. My feet ultimately followed, heading straight to the stairs to go up. I wandered around, my eyes never leaving the butterfly. Then it went to the second to the last isle.

I felt a force toward it, as if I was put under a spell, bounded to follow. The butterfly landed on one of the shelves, specifically at the line of hard-bound books. I looked at the category, realizing there was none. All looked like an encyclopedia to me, with the hard covers and almost two and a half inches thickness.

Pulling out the thick blue book to where the butterfly landed, I looked at the front cover, not really know what to expect. Why am I letting the butterfly pick up the book for me? I have no idea. But I could just tell it was the right thing to do.

I opened the book when the black butterfly flew away.

A Dragon’s Code.

“Huh.” I raised an eyebrow, my excitement melted. What I needed was books about werewolf, not about my father’s race. Flipping to the next page, the first chapter was named ‘The Prophecy’. “The gifted will be cursed, the race will be split. The flower from two different blood will bloom, and the fruit will have power none of other beings have. The moon will bleed in her hands, the circle will break, and her power will be her crown.”

My eyebrow raised even more. “What the hell does that mean?” I asked to myself, utterly confused. I scanned the book, flipping it to the middle part. An image made me stop turning, my excitement and curiosity was back, running down my shoulders.

A werewolf’s image was drawn inside a circle, symbols and unfamiliar language written below it. I knew the symbols. It was the same writings on the book of spells my mother left me.

“Birth of a Thirio,” I read, tracing the drawing with my index finger. My interest peeked, knowing it was pertaining to the creation of werewolves. Thirio. Beasts.

“Tana?”

I gasped, startled at the call.

It was Inigo.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, half-smiling, curiosity written all over his face.

I closed the book, hugging it to my chest. “Finding something to read,” I answered.

He looked freshly showered, his thick hair looked damp and soft. He was wearing an orange hoodie and jeans, complimenting his black sneakers. His usual getup, as I have noticed.

“You?” I asked.

Inigo shrugged his shoulder. “I’m having dinner with my grandma and cousin at Tony’s” he said, gesturing his hand, pointing to where the diner was. “Then I saw you come here. I figured I should say hi.”

My lips formed a smile. “I’m actually looking for the book you mentioned to me last time.”

His chocolate brown eyes were fixed on mine, his arms crossed over his chest. “Oh, that’s a real classic. Do they have that book here?”

“No, I don’t think so,” I answered. “It’s fine, though. This one here seems more interesting.”

“Is it about witches?”

I shook my head. As if I needed books about us. “No. This is about dragons or something.”

He chuckled. “Dragons? Too much fantasy, I see.”

“You don’t believe in them?” I asked.

Inigo looked away, scanning the shelves. “Only in fairytale books,” he muttered.

I nodded, considering his answer. “I should go now.”

He clicked his tongue, tapping his wristwatch. “You should. It’s now almost midnight. And you know it’s dangerous nowadays. With all the attacks happening around town, you shouldn’t be wandering alone.”

“Attacks?” I asked, looking at his worried face.

Inigo brushed the back of his neck. “Didn’t you hear there was another attack? At Park Ali.”

My heartbeat drummed, my muscles tensing. “When?”

He shrugged his shoulder. “Just heard it in the news. So you be careful, Tana. It’s not safe to be alone at this time of night.”

I just nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

I checked out the book, giving my membership card to the man on the register. We exited the cafe and Inigo insisted on driving me home.

“But I thought you’re with your grandma and cousin?”

He shrugged his shoulder. “They won’t mind.”

“But I would.” I tucked the book safely inside my bag. I looked at the dark busy street, watching trucks speed up, racing to beat the red light. “I’ll be fine. See you, Inigo.”

I waved a goodbye and walked away, dragging my bike to the pedestrian and started to cross the street. Just then, I saw again the black butterfly before me, dancing in the cool wind, its wings flapping smoothly. My eyes locked on it, as if it demanded my attention.

And in a snap, things went into slow motion, the sound of honks and screeches echoed loudly, but I couldn’t turn my head to see what was going on.

For a fleeting moment, I was frozen, seeing Erin on the other side of the road, screaming on top of her lungs, begging for the pain to stop. Demons crawled around her, hissing and taunting her, mocking her torment. I felt the ground shook, my knees wobbled, and the spell I whispered to the man harassing Agatha that day reminded me what it was like to see fear, what it was like to be in hell.

Honks became louder and louder, overpowering Erin’s screams. When I blinked, my eyes adjusted to the lights flashed from the cars, as if releasing me from the nightmare. Then I could feel my legs again, the cool wind blew the vision away, bringing me back to reality. Another yells and screams swarmed the street, and it wasn’t from Erin. It was from the strangers, gesturing their hands, signaling me to move.

Before I could make sense of what was happening, I felt a tight grip on my arm, snatching me away from where I stood as a truck drove past me. I saw the butterfly hovering over me as I lost my balance, knowing my body was about to hit the cold pavement. My back hurt from the impact but my head was secured by someone’s hand from directly hitting the ground. Turning to see my savior, flashes of memory were forced inside my head.

It wasn’t my memories. None of it made sense, too. He was beaten as a kid, bullied by the others. He was part of a huge royal family. Then there was a full moon, and he roared, as if calling out to someone. Underneath him, his shadow grew out, sharp nails and eyes that saw nothing but hunger for flesh. It was a memory of someone else’s, someone I was starting to get familiar with.

Someone who just saved my life.

Inigo.