immortality [wizarding world] | ?

Sancho wasn't sure how to respond to Praelia's big revelation. He sat awkwardly on his chair, waiting for her to elaborate. It seemed like she was stuck in her own thoughts, and Sancho was scared that every second that passed drew them closer and closer to another attack from the creatures.

"Did your father ever tell you bedtime stories about our land, Sancho?" She asked unexpectedly. He frowned, confused. Unsure as to where she was going with this question, he answered hesitantly.

"Not - Not really, Profesora. He mostly told me stories about heroes and heroines from the past," Sancho confessed. "Like Merlin Ambrosius." Praelia nodded and reached out to the old book in front of her.

"This is a book of ancient folklore about the Amazonia," Praelia flipped through the pages carefully. "My father often read me these stories — I never believed them, of course, but he always insisted that they were true."

"Oh — well... I'm sure your father is right." Sancho replied, uncomfortable.

"Was right. He passed away unexpectedly when it was announced that I would become Headmistress of Castelobruxo," Praelia's eyes were full of sorrow, and Sancho bowed his head out of respect. "But we are not here to mourn my father, Sancho. When you told me you thought the creature that attacked María Luz wasn't preying on her life but rather her Light magic, it reminded me of a story that my father read to me once from this very book.

The story is so terrible that I've only heard it once. I was older, and I had rashly told my father that I wanted a story that wasn't full of happy endings and great witches and wizards. This story... I think it was the first time he had read it fully, too. But once he started, he wasn't able to stop until he finished it completely." Sancho was captivated, his curiosity getting the best of him. He wanted to hear the story, even though a little voice in his head told him that it wasn't a good idea. Praelia seemed to sense his curiosity.

"I'm not going to read it, Sancho," Praelia said, and his face fell slightly. "But I'll tell you the creatures that the story centers around: Wekufes." A shiver went down Sancho's spine, but he wasn't sure why. He had never heard about Wekufes in his entire life — and yet, the name sounded familiar. He shrugged the feeling off, slightly unsettled.

"What are... what are they?" Sancho asked hesitantly, not wanting to repeat the name out loud. If Praelia had noticed his discomfort, she had pointedly decided to ignore it. Sancho appreciated this greatly. It took Praelia a while to answer his question.

"They're made of the Darkest magic I've ever heard of. They have to be summoned at night when the veil between us and them is the thinnest. I would say that they're not really from this world — their origin is unclear. You and I both felt it when they were summoned, and it felt like the world was on fire. Wekufes prey on Light magic, feeding off it and turning it into Dark magic to make themselves more powerful..." She paused and dropped her voice to a whisper. "And you must know, Sancho, where the strongest source of Light magic comes from..." Sancho wished he didn't know what she was talking about. He wished the growing pit of despair in his stomach would disappear. He wished he was back home with his father.

"Children." Sancho mumbled, avoiding Praelia's gaze. Castelobruxo had the highest density of young, innocent children in the entirety of Southern America. The Light magic that resided within the walls would be irresistible for the Wekufes.

They were coming after him. After all of them.

"That's right," Praelia answered softly, looking out the window and to the Castelobruxo grounds. "This is the perfect hunting ground for them." There was a long pause as the two absorbed the information. Sancho's head began to fill with questions as his anxiety mounted. But he had to be brave.