44 The Self
Dorothy’s POV:
That day came without warning.
My mixed bloodline silently and rapidly exploded. Without me knowing it, I became a witch with a wolf.
Or rather, a wolf that could do magic.
I didn’t know how to face my grandmother. She had always hated the half of me that was my father’s. Caning, burning, silver whips, smuggled ‘holy water’… I couldn’t even remember how many punishments or ‘purification’ I’d suffered.
Obviously, all these methods were useless. The witch’s blood, which my grandmother denounced as ‘trash’, finally took root and sprouted in my body.
I was brought to the palace and met with the Lycan King. I believed he was about to execute me like he would kill a mouse found in a granary.
That was good too. I was not afraid of death. Death was my release.
The Lycan King was not as imposing as he was on the television or on the posters. He smiled kindly with a compassionate look in his eyes.
“Aren’t you going to kill me?” I asked.
“Why do you think that? Of course not, my child. You are a little werewolf, my people and my responsibility. The King will always love and protect his people.”
“But I’m a witch. If you don’t kill me, one day I’ll destroy your land and kill your people.”
“You can’t say that. Be it a witch or a werewolf, there’s no absolute evil.”
“But witches are evil. They are the source of the werewolves’ downfall. I have the witch’s blood, so sooner or later, your pack will be destroyed.”
I heard myself say this, but my heart was so numb I couldn’t feel anything.
“Let all of this end immediately. End this life that was a mistake. End this pointless life of mine.
While I waited for my judgment, the King asked, “Do you wish for that to happen?”
“What?”
“Do you wish to become an evil creature and then disappear from the world like a dandelion?”
“It’s not the question of whether I want it.” I was a little angry, and tears of anguish poured out of my eyes. “I am but a witch! If you don’t kill me, I will kill you!”
Just as my grandmother said, this dirty satan’s blood would destroy me sooner or later. Then, it would destroy everything!
The Lycan King’s face turned somber. His imposing manner was terrifying.
“No, you won’t, child. Whether you’re a werewolf or a witch, you won’t become the kind of person you’re talking about.
“I see the pain in your eyes. Sins cause you pain, and your bloodline causes you pain.
“But child, we came to this world not to let anyone manipulate our lives. Be it a werewolf or a witch, they can’t determine a person’s nature.
“The only ones who can decide what we become are ourselves.”
The morning sun glowed softly through the window, gilding the King’s body. His expression was serious, but his eyes were filled with love as if I wasn’t a mixed-blood b*stard, but a little sapling that should be carefully cared for.
Alright. Now I got why so many people supported and loved him.
“Thinking about it now, child.” He touched my head gently. “My niece, Selma, is also studying at Sivir Academy. Do you know her? Maybe you can go and hang out with her for a while. The servant will lead the way for you.”
The majestic and kind King left.
Selma, I knew her. She was my deskmate. She was such a lively, beautiful, and noble girl. Was she also affected by this disaster?
As I thought about this, my guilt magnified infinitely.
Everyone thought I was a freak, and no one was willing to get along with a gloomy mute.
Only Selma never cared about these things. She would always chat with me with a smile and share the snacks she brought with me, even though I would never give her any response.
I didn’t want to be too narcissistic. Maybe her kindness to me was just out of her good upbringing and social etiquette, wasn’t it?
However, anyone who experienced getting along with Selma would understand her sincerity. And how pained and helpless I felt for not being able to respond to this sincerity.
This annoying bloodline, in addition to making me consigned to eternal damnation, also caused my family and friends to be unable to speak before I was of age. Otherwise, my immature divination ability would bring bad luck to everyone for no reason.
“Elland, are you there?” I contacted my wolf. Her name was Elland, a thin and quiet little wolf like me.
“I’m here,” she replied. “I know what you’re worried about, but compared to letting your imagination run wild, it might be better to just visit Selma.”
With Elland’s encouragement, I called the servant over and asked if I could go to Selma.
“I’m very sorry, Miss Selma is still unconscious. When she wakes up, I will inform you.”
The servant’s answer made me feel like I had fallen into an ice cave.
I’d heard that some witches’ magic awakened so violently that they made people fall into eternal sleep. If something happened to Selma because of me, I didn’t know how I could make it up to the only girl who was kind to me. How could I face the Lycan King, who had been trying his best to comfort me?
