Over the next few weeks, I slotted back into my place. Even Isolde and Efren seemed to accept that I was here to stay and stopped glaring at me so much. The other witches and warlocks stopped whispering to themselves in the corridors whenever I walked by, and Rhys reappointed me to my former duties. These mostly consisted of assisting in creating potions for the various forms of witchcraft they were trying to master. Occasionally, I was called to join in creating magic, or more often, casting a curse. But I was starting to forget what the potions I was helping to make were for. I was starting to forget about the sacrifices of innocent people that were going on around me in the name of restoring our kind’s former glory. It was easier not to think of these things. Rhys was right. I found myself wishing that I had just listened to him from the start. He’d always told me that if I followed him blindly, I would find a place of peace.
