It was silent as they let that sink in for a moment.
“So, she dragged us into a battle, and now we can’t remember it?” Rhea frowned. Her eyes were still razor sharp as they glared into me. “Very well, protection or no protection, what does this have to do with why I cannot see my son in her heart. If we are all affected, why is she still black-hearted?”
Black hearted? That’s a little harsh.
“Mother, you forget,” Theseus said with a small smirk on his lips. “She is not only a vampire but a witch. A bound witch.”
There was a look of realization in Rhea’s grey eyes as she looked me over again. But I didn’t understand.
“It is not uncommon for bound witches to lose the connection to their emotions. Magic is a very big part of a witch. It is at the very core of their being to love. Binding a witch, that is not done easily or without ill effect. Some may go mad; others may weep for the rest of their existence; others can be as my mate calls black-hearted.” Sigbjørn snickered, glancing at Rhea a bit smug. “You cannot see her heart, Draka because it is bound with her magic. Though like her magic, it is seeking freedom.”
“That explains the colors,” Ulrik muttered to himself as he sat forward, but his blue eyes weren’t on me exactly me but more the air around me. When he noticed we were looking at him, he grinned sheepishly. “Forgive me, Father; I did not mean to interrupt.”
“No, continue, I’m sure Druella welcomes as much knowledge as we can provide,” Sigbjørn replied.
“Well,” Ulrik said with a long pause as he lifted his hand to his beard. “You are an odd one, sister.”
“Thanks,” I grumbled, making him grin and Melora elbow him.
“Thank you, Melora.” Theseus shook his head at his elder brother. “Just explain, Ulrik.”
“I did. Druella is odd,” he stated again.
“What he means is,” Hinrik interrupted. “Most witches have an aura of some sort around them that Ulrik can see through his gift. They are of varying colors and sizes. However, with you, your magic is a multitude of colors. And instead of freely moving around like other witches, it is like…”
“A column of lights moving up and down, tightly wrapped around you. The light is faint and keeps flickering.” Ulrik grinned to himself. “But when it holds for a second, it kind of looks like you’re about to ascend into the heavens or get abducted by aliens.”
I looked around myself, seeing absolutely nothing and was grateful for that. “Can you see this all the time?”
“No. It comes and goes as if there is not enough energy for it. Whenever you use magic, though, your light is much clearer.” Ulric shrugged.
“You will show me later,” Melora declared, and Ulrik just nodded.
“So, let me get this straight.” I brushed my hair behind my ear. “There is thread—which I can’t see—that connects me to all of you by magic I do not remember doing or casting because I am a vampire and a witch from a murderous coven of witches who were bound by someone or thing no one knows or remembers? That bondage is the reason why I am “black-hearted,” and Rhea cannot see my feelings, and I can’t truly feel my memories or emotions, hence why I have such a boring mortal life memory to Sigbjørn and am now unable to commit to mating Theseus? And on top of that, every time I use said magic, I look like I’m being beamed up to the Enterprise?”
There was silence for only a half-second before everyone, but Theseus said, “Yes.”
I looked at him, and he stared back at me. “What is the Enterprise?”
“Of all the centuries you had to forget, why was it this one?” I let out a deep breath.
“It is this one because this is the one most connected to you,” Sigbjørn explained. “You are protecting us, remember? Whatever it is, is connected to you, so protecting us from it may include making sure he cannot remember you.”
“So, I took his memory away?” Why would I do that?
“It is a possibility. We do not know for sure.” Sigbjørn tried to calm me down. “However, we must get to the bottom of it. It is unacceptable to be ignorant. Druella, now that you have an idea of what could have happened to try once again to see if you can use your magic. If anything triggers a response, it will help us greatly understand where to go from here.”
> “I don’t know what to do.”
“Do what you have been doing. Ask yourself.” Rhea’s voice was gentle, which startled me. It sounded almost motherly in how calm and soothing it was.
“Ask myself?”
She nodded. “Just as you have done till now. You are a witch still; your magic will try to answer.”
“It doesn’t always,” I whispered back.
“Try anyway, my dear; there is no harm in that.” She offered me a smile, and it too was kind and gentle and motherly. I could feel her confidence in me, and it made me want to do as she said.