Enslaved To The Alphas-Chapter 243: Learning Dark Arts

"Aron. This is so beautiful."

Aron smiled at Mira, who was sitting close beside him, and nudged her shoulder. "I knew you would like it. Sigh! Now you won’t let me have a moment of peace."

Mira giggled at that! That was indeed true. Her days here were very boring. She was not allowed to learn magic because she carried the blood of a dark witch and it was said to be dangerous until there was a learned master to teach her. She would be sent away later, when she was older so that she would be able to handle the volatile magic.

It was also why she had come looking for Aron today. He had been learning magic for almost three years now and he always showed her something new he had learnt. Shiqi, on the other hand was always being stingy with showing her the magic that she had learned.

The night around them was quiet, wrapped in the soft hush that only came after everyone else had gone to sleep. In the space between them, faint shadows stirred and then, one by one, the night butterflies took form. See, he was the best. He was showing her without even her asking.

The butterflies fluttered into existence like wisps of smoke given wings. Their bodies were dark, almost translucent, and their wings shimmered as though dusted with sparkle. They moved slowly, lazily, drifting through the air as if the night itself had decided to breathe.

Mira gasped and leaned forward, her hands clasped together. "They’re alive," she whispered, afraid her voice might scare them away.

"They’re not," Aron said lightly. "They just pretend well."

"That’s the same thing," she insisted, her eyes following a butterfly as it looped clumsily above her head. "Teach me. Aron, please. I want to do this."

He gave a short laugh. "It’s not that simple."

Mira turned to him immediately, narrowing her eyes. "You always say that when you don’t want to teach me."

"Because it is difficult," he said, a little more firmly. "You have to hold the shape in your mind. If you lose focus, they disappear."

She crossed her arms and pouted, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I can focus."

"That’s what you said about the shadows last time when I tried to teach you," he reminded her.

Mira giggled at that. Last time, he’d shown her how to make shadows talk so that shadows of not just people, even things could talk and converse. She’d learnt it after a few tries until she lost focus and then...heheh.. The shadow became too talkative and wouldn’t stop talking... She’d had to beg Aron to make it stop...

"That was different," she shot back primly, as if that matter was not her fault.. Then she leaned closer, her voice dropping into a pleading whisper. "Please, Aron. Just show me. Once. I won’t mess it up. I promise."

He watched her for a moment, taking in the way her eyes shone, the way she rocked slightly where she sat, barely containing her excitement. Then he sighed. "You don’t give up, do you?"

Mira’s pout turned into a grin. "Never."

"Fine," he said, relenting. "But you do exactly what I say."

He raised one hand, fingers slightly curled, and closed his eyes. "Don’t think about the butterflies," he told her. "Think about the night. About how it feels. Calm. Quiet. Wide."

Mira nodded seriously, mimicking his posture. Her brow furrowed in concentration, her tongue peeking out slightly as she tried to hold the thought steady. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then a small flicker appeared near her hand. One butterfly lopsoded formed, its wings uneven—before another followed, then another. Mira’s breath hitched.

"I did it," she whispered.

She laughed suddenly, the sound bright and unrestrained, and the butterflies reacted at once, spiraling around her as if drawn to her joy. She lifted her hands, twirling in place as the night butterflies danced with her, their wings brushing against her hair and sleeves before drifting away and reforming again.

Aron didn’t join in. He sat back slightly, watching her with a half smile. It was always worth it, seeing Mira learn something new and find joy in it.

Her laughter filled the space between them, warm and carefree, and for a long moment, he forgot the rules he had learned, the warnings that always came with magic like this until she came to him and asked," Aron.. How come these are considered dark magic? This is so fun... Even the shadow whispers last time were funny..."

Aron’s smile vanished at that. Of course they were not dark magic because he had taken out the element of darkness out of it... She didn’t need to know that. He wanted to protect her innocence as long as he could.

He didn’t need to tell her that shadows could be fed. That if he cut his thumb and let a single drop of blood fall into the darkness, the shadows would listen more closely and could be coaxed, to murmur truths a person had never spoken aloud. Secrets not even the owner knew they carried.

He didn’t need to tell her that with enough patience, a shadow could be taught to replace the original soul.

He didn’t need to tell her that night butterflies were not always as light as they looked. That there were older forms, heavier ones, drawn not to laughter but to pain. That they could drink warmth from a body and that if allowed to linger too long, they would cling to breath and heartbeat and slowly, quietly, take more than anyone noticed until the person was nothing but a shell.

He didn’t need to tell her any of that.

Aron looked away for a moment, his gaze drifting to where the last butterfly dissolved into the night air. "Mira...Remember...the magic itself isn’t dark. Not really."

Mira tilted her head, listening carefully.

"It’s what you ask of it. It has nothing to do with the blood that runs in out veins... The reason for the magic is what matters. Remember, fire can cook food or burn a house. Water can save someone or drown them. Magic is the same."

Mira frowned slightly, chewing on that. "Then why do they say I shouldn’t learn it?"

"Because people are afraid of what they don’t understand," Aron replied simply. "And because some people use magic to take instead of give. There’s no such thing as magic that belongs to only one kind of witch. A dark witch can use light magic. A white witch can use dark magic. Yes, each might face difficulty to do the other due to their blood but what matters most is the hand holding it and the heart guiding it..."

Mira studied his face as if committing the words to memory. Then she smiled again, smaller this time, and leaned against his shoulder.

"I think I understand. So... as long as I don’t mean anything bad, it’s okay?"

Aron hesitated, just for a breath, then nodded. "As long as you remember to stop when it’s no longer harmless."

Mira nodded and promised," Hmm! Don’t worry! I will forever remember what you have taught me! I promise!"