Chapter 221: A New Reality
Chapter 221: A New Reality
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A knock on the door interrupted our conversation.
“Your majesties, Princess Amaryllis and Prince Calyx, wish to enter,” a guard says from just outside the heavy wood door. “And Alpha and Luna Forrester from Crescent City have just arrived. They are also requesting admittance into the palace.”
“Let them in,” my great-grandmother orders in a regal voice as she stands from her spot at the head of the table. “And please have someone guide the Alphas from Crescent City to this chamber immediately.”
A moment later, Calyx and Amaryllis sweep into the room in a fluid movement, their violet silk jackets settling around them like elegant robes as they kneel before the Luna Mother. As they make this dramatic entrance, my heart flips. Do they know the truth? Do they remember the world from before?
The pair wait until the doors close and then stand slowly. “Mother, what the fuck is going on here?” Amaryllis asks bluntly, making her mother wince. “I thought you said the spell wouldn’t change us. That we’d remain the same.” She scoffs, pointing at her hair, which once jet black with a bright white streak on one side, cut sharply around her face in hard angles, is now delicate auburn waves that rest on one shoulder. She still had her family’s signature white streak, one that she shares with her mother, but she looks softer, a tiara with a delicate chandelier of dangling crystals lay gently across her forehead, braided into her long waves, interwoven in detailed braids.
She still looks powerful, her alpha energy rolling from her in waves, but she also seems more feminine, with a feral softness to her features.
Is this what Alexis would have been had she never struggled or been manipulated?
“And there is more, much more,” Amaryllis opens her jacket as she moves forward into the sunlight, before rolling up her velvet top to reveal smooth, unblemished skin. “Where’s my scar, mother? You gave me a hysterectomy after the child…” she pauses, unable to finish the sentence.
It was only a couple of weeks ago that Amy had cut the unwanted child she was forced to carry for Alpha Rodrigo Riversong, Sylvester’s biological father, out of her body. But apparently, as we learned from her mother, the Luna Queen Mother, in this world Rodrigo didn’t live long enough to cause that kind of pain. In this world, after Channing adopted Sly and learned of his story as a rogue, Rodrigo was executed by royal order.
The door opened again as Amaryllis lowered her dress, allowing my best friend and cousin to enter with my old beta. They were absolutely glowing, the aftereffects of the spell still radiating warmly. Hazel, who had barely started to show, now had a more rounded belly, as if playing the role of fresh fertility ripened her womb.
For a moment, Amaryllis’ eyes flick jealously towards Hazel’s stomach. She blinks, squeezing her mate’s hand as she looks up and away, blinking away the unwanted emotion. As Alexis, she and Sylvester had tried for years to have a pup. After she sliced herself open, her mother removed her uterus to save her, taking away that opportunity to create a family of her own.
“What have we missed?” Rudy queries as he and his wife settle themselves around the table.
“We were sharing stories,” I offer, pointing towards Amy. “It seems we’ve all been…changed in some way.”
Even Sylvester and I are starting to show subtle changes, as our bodies slowly mold themselves to this world. For example, the longer we talk, the longer Sylvester’s hair looks. When we had left the field, he still looked like…well, him. Now, with hair touching his shoulders, he looked like a romantic prince from a period film.
I wonder how I’ve changed. Other than feeling much stronger than before, I can’t see anything new.
“It’s not just my body that’s different,” Amy continues. “It’s my mind. I…I do not have headaches anymore. And my memories…they’re twisting into something else. I…I know that those of us who cast the spell were supposed to remember, but something’s wrong.”
Araminta looked at her daughter, a complicated emotion pressing her lips into a fine line. “It’s because your brain is different,” the Luna Mother explained. “Trauma shapes how we think and feel, and unlike your previous world,” Araminta pauses, “I never needed to hide you. Chancy died young, so he was never able to manipulate your thoughts more.” She pauses and then adds, “Most importantly, you grew up knowing who you are, Amaryllis, with a mother and father who loved you and one another openly. Your old memories cannot fit in a mind that was shaped in love, Amy.”
Amaryllis looked lost as she leaned back, her body resting against a tall, high-backed chair as she listened, “You never erased my mind. I grew up knowing I was a hybrid.”
Araminta nods. “Because in this world your father got his wish when creating the spell that night 35 years ago.” Araminta nodded. “Our original spell, the one we had crafted, followed my wishes–creating a separate space where I could keep my children, grandchildren and great-grand children safe,” she sighed, steepling her fingers as she leaned forward. “But in this world, Channing got his wish–a united world where instead of war, our people found a way forward in peace and collaboration, as the original witch queen and alpha king had intended.”
Araminta looked meaningfully at Sylvester and me. We were the reincarnations of those two, our wolf spirits sharing the same souls as our distant ancestors.
“You were a part of the original spell,” she informs us. “Your older selves cast it. Which is one of the many reasons you can remember both worlds so clearly. When Channing and I cast our version of the spell, shifting your original spells’ intention to separation instead of integration, while we remembered the original past,” she taps her temple meaningfully, “Over time, the original world became hazy. It became harder and harder to remember what things were like before the pocket cities were formed.”
“And to those who were not a part of the spell,” I added, “they never knew another life.”
“Exactly,” Araminta continued. “The only reason I can remember even a sliver of what your world was like is because I was part of the spell, coordinating the points. I may not have cast it this time, but I helped move its energy along with…someone,” the Luna Mother pauses, her eyes unfocused as her mind struggles to remember.
“You worked with Harlem Abernathy," I remind her. “The two of you blessed our marriages and then sent us away to start the spell.”
The retired queen looked puzzled. “The Harlem Abernathy,” she stutters, “The Alpha Priest of the East? Father of Grand Artificer Parris,” she points outward towards the sky train as it disappears. “Why would either one of them be involved in this?
Closing her eyes, Araminta holds her temples as a memory from the other reality pulls her eyebrows downward in pain.
I wonder what would happen if I told her that Harlem had been her second, or I guess third, chance zing?
“It might break her mind,” my mate communicates with me directly through our link. “We need to tread carefully.”
But how do we do that when we don’t know what might trigger her next migraine?
“I know what you’re thinking,” Araminta opens her eyes cautiously, “But I can take it, children. I might be old, but I’ve always been strong,” she says without a hint of bragging. Her strength is indisputable, even in this world.
Especially in this world, I guess.
“We need to get on the same page,” Rudy says reasonably. “Luna,” he bows to my great-grandmother, “Maybe you should start. Tell us about your world. What happened during Witch War II? How did it end? And how,” he pointed out the window, “did we end up with this future?”
“Ah, well, that’s where things get interesting,” The Luna Mother pierced her lips. “In this world, there was no Witch War II. There was no Witch War I. It seems,” she pauses. “In a world without humans, we never needed one.”