Chapter 8: The Stregas

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• Chasing the Golden Trinket   Chapter 8: The Stregas

  The counselor plainly stood up from his seat as a short wooden staff appeared from his cloak. It has a glowing gem on top, inside was what looked like magical dusts—or were those the witches' souls? No, it can't be. Is he that powerful that he can store souls in what looked like his talisman?

• Chasing the Golden Trinket   Chapter 7: The Witch Council

  Note: The following chapters' word counts will decrease dramatically by 500 words. This change is due to a realization that have dawned upon me. I don't want my readers to get bored nor do I want to serve less frequent updates because I struggle maintaining the 2k+ word count every chapter. I hope everyone adjusts to this! Thanks! Love, Z

• Chasing the Golden Trinket   Chapter 6: Memories

  "Finally, home sweet home," Eve mumbled and plopped herself down on the couch as soon as we got back to the mansion.We were greeted by Master Zorylle on the grand staircase, when his gaze fell to Doreen. His brows rose a bit."A new guest?" He smiled at Doreen who's busy roaming her eyes around the mansion."She's a new friend we met in the church," I explained and took her in front of Master Zorylle. The others went on their own ways and actually left me to explain Doreen's situation."I'm Doreen, I practice a variety of dark magic but I favor Demonic more than the others," Doreen introduced herself and offered a hand.Master Zorylle looked shocked with what kind of witch we brought but nevertheless, smiled and accepted her hand."Well, hello there. I'm Zorylle but my apprentices here call me Master Zorylle." He looked at us."How did it go?" He asked and looked a

• Chasing the Golden Trinket   Chapter 5: A New Recruit

  We continued going down the stairs silently, still eavesdropping. “We wish to know who is the prophesied witch is, Rynoa,” a feminine voice answered. Prophesied witch? There was a prophecy? Given by who? And Rynoa, I know that name. I’ve read that name in one of the books in our library before. But I just couldn’t remember where. ‘Rynoa was the strongest warlock who mastered demonic magic a few generations ago,’ spoke Royce I my mind. Exactly! The darkest of the dark warlocks. Demonic magic is practiced by witches or warlocks who either wants to borrow powers from demonic forces, or simply talk to them, or use their spirits to do their bidding. All of the aforementioned can be done by sacrificing living beings and other dark methods of witchcraft. Compared to witches like me who practice traditional and hereditary magic, witches who practice demonic magic has darker motives and is in the dark side of witchcraft.

• Chasing the Golden Trinket   Chapter 4: Start of the Chase

  I knocked on Master Zorylle’s office. I just settled in his house, I checked out of the hotel and brought my suitcase here. I twisted the silver doorknob of his office and peeked inside. He’s sitting in a wooden office chair, behind his wide mahogany table.He raised his gaze from the papers on his table to me.“May I come in?”He nodded and motioned to the couch in front of his table. I quietly sat down and sighed.“Thank you for letting me stay,” I started, “and thank you for choosing to help me.”He chuckled. “If I know I can do it, I will. You don’t have to thank me, child.”“But still, you’re allocating your time for this. It means a lot.”He leaned back on his chair. “No worries. I’m sure you still have other things you want to say.”I knew he would say that.“It’s about my Mom. Can you tell me more about her?”

• Chasing the Golden Trinket   Chapter 3: The Master

  The road to their master’s home is going smoothly. Eve and Macky are bickering like kids, Louise is surprisingly sleeping soundly beside me amidst the noise the two are making, Gab is driving, while me and Royce who is at the shotgun seat are staying silent. I’ve figured that it was a long drive from the city, and that it has many twists and turns. We’ve almost been travelling for three lengthy hours but I think we’re still far from the exact house. After a few moments of sight-seeing, I noticed the civilians wandering around getting lesser and lesser. We’re passing by an increasing number of trees, and the path’s also starting to get bumpy. Louise had also woken up because of the bumps, but didn’t say anything. “It’s a downhill this time. Be careful, everyone,” Gab warned us, the van getting slower and slower. A downhill? We weren’t even climbing a hill! Oh, well. It’s another spell. Might be an illusion or rea