Kristial waved her hand over her smashed phone, restoring it to normal. She could not call him. She would not call him. She knew that she didnāt need to be a part of his life anymore, a life she had almost ended. Kristial played that memory over and over in her head: her fatherās smooth timbre, assuring her that everything would be right when she took this mortalās soul. Samson on his knees before her, frozen in place by her fatherās spell, throat bared. The long dagger in her own trembling fingers. Kris shook her head to clear the memory, focusing on the winding path that led her through the woods to her destination. She looked at the scrawled directions that he sister wrote for her. This would lead her to the forest witch. Kris struggled to remember her name. Anastasia? Aliah? Ariana? It was something that started with an A, something old sounding. She pondered this a moment longer. Arielle! That was her name. A ditzy little witch with long pink hair, the result of a spell gone wrong with her and Marin. Kris chuckled at the memory, a spot of light in the darkness that shrouded her mind. A shroud that never seemed to go away. As Samsonās terrified face flashed through her mind, she caught sight of the crooked door of Arielleās cottage. She hesitated, her fist hovering before the door, before she knocked softly. The door swung open as Arielleās bright face beamed at her arrival. āYou came!ā she exclaimed as she pulled Kristial in the ramshackle living area. Kris took a moment to look around, taking in the mismatched potion bottles, scattered potted plants, and weary looking books scattered around. āI wasnāt sure you would, Marin sounded very unsure on the phone, of course I wouldnāt want you to feel pressuredāā Arielle babbled on, and Kristial smiled as she remembered Marinās fond name for the little witch: Arihead. Her sunny disposition suddenly turned clear. āMarin told me what happened. Are you sure you want to do this?ā Kristial gulped at the sudden change in her sisterās friend. āY-yes,ā she stuttered. āI need this d-done. I canāt, I just, his faceāā Kristial broke into tears again, and wiped her face furiously. She hated crying, hated the weakness it showed. Arielle touched her shoulder with her slender fingers, and smiled comfortingly. āLetās do this.ā She bustled around, gathering the ingredients for the precarious spell that would erase him from Kristialās memory. She teared up again thinking of him. Samson. His sweet face, the smile that curled up when he saw her, the devotion in his eyes. Things she would no longer have any idea of. Arielle set her down in the circle, and held her hands. She closed her eyes and began chanting softly in a language Kris couldnāt understand but she could feel it in her soul, rattling around her memories. A sudden gust a wind flared up in the circle, leaving both of them gasping as they fell apart, smudging the circle. Arielle recovered first. āWhat do you know about Samson,ā she rasped, pulling Kristial to her, studying her eyes. Kristial probed around the fog in her mind the spellhad produced. She smiled softly, āI know everything.ā
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