"Don't look so shocked, Vivian," the white witch smiled as she brewed the pot in front of her. If you are here, reading the past memory then it should mean I am not in the church anymore which also means I am gone and have come to cease to exist."

A deep frown came to settle between Vivian's eyebrows wondering what was going on, "I am leaving you this particular memory in the hope that you find the answers you are currently looking for. I chased away father Connor because he isn't fully aware of your ability. I wouldn't want him thinking I have turned insane by talking to myself."

It finally dawned on Vivian that this was a message which Sister Isabelle wanted to give her but did she say cease?

"Don't look so shocked, dear," the white witch's words made Vivian feel as if she could see her right this moment while in truth she couldn't and she was merely talking in hope that the information would reach her, "I needed to make sure you got this message as nothing is safe," the crow that had previously perched itself on the branch of the tree flew away, "Come closer," the older woman advised and Vivian went closer to look at the slimy broth in the pot that bubbled one after another, steam coming off as it was boiled under the wooden sticks of the cold atmosphere. 

Sister Isabelle then said, "There has been an increase in the count of the black witch. I know you stopped most of the transformation but there have been some errant cases which have failed to come to the notice of the council. I am not sure if it is from the same case that you worked but the main witch, the one who has bee pulling the strings she has been trying to recreate the ritual which my ancestors had once tried. You might ask what it is, centuries ago, there were some white witches who shared similar thoughts as the black witches today. After being shunned by the people for their witchcraft, a revolt started a war between the witches and the rest of the world. The only difference right now is that the white witches stepped back while the black witches have continued to revolt."

"This ritual needs a lot of things. More than what the ingredients that are used to create the potion for corrupting the hearts and I doubt she whoever it is, is able to gather all of it right now. She will probably go under hiding with the number of witches I have killed and set on fire. It is a signal for the councilmen that the witches are in high density and she will want to live for now," the woman explained before tapping the utensil with the spoon she had been twirling with, "My potions are important therefore I have left them in hands of the switcher."

Vivian's eye widened at this new information. Did she say switcher?! She wanted to argue but how could when it was only one-way communication where she was on the listening end. 

The switcher? Vivian began to walk back and forth at the thought of why Sister Isabelle would do something like this. She was a smart woman, why would she hand over the potions to the switcher and worse why didn't she tell she knew a switcher. Wait a minute, she halted her footsteps from going back and forth. Was this the switcher from the council?

"Don't panic, Vivian. I know what you are thinking but hear me out," came the quiet, whisper-like voice of the white witch whose voice didn't rise or fall at Vivian's panic-stricken face, "I am sure you are aware that in every kind of creature who roam on these lands, it is not required that everyone falls under the same category. There are good and bad people which I know you believe too," Vivian couldn't believe that Sister Isabelle was taking a switcher's side but as good as the point was she had come to hate the existence of the kind who could morph into any shape and person. After it was the reason why so many whom she cared for in the world had died. 

One switcher who had started the chain reaction and it had killed so many innocent souls. She didn't know if she would ever come to like them. 

"I am well aware that a lot of death has taken place in the past but this person, the switcher he can be trusted. His name is Lancelot Knight," blood drained down Vivian's face, she should have known yet she had no clue about him being a switcher, "There was something I was looking for when I came across him-" and as if the spell broke away, Vivian was suddenly transported back into the present reality. 

The door to the room had opened, breaking her concentration had been lost along with the liquid she had poured on to her hand which had evaporated leaving the little bottle empty as if there had been nothing but the air inside it. 

In came Leonard and right behind him was Lancelot, panic struck Vivian's mind again that she hurriedly pulled Leonard behind her making him confused as to what was going on. 

She glared at Lancelot to see him smile,

"You found out," he commented, his eyes calmly looking at her.

"What's going on?" asked Leonard who tried to grasp the situation 

"He is a switcher," Vivian gritted her teeth to have Leonard under high alert and this time it was Leonard who put Vivian behind in a protective stance. 

"My my, I am not going to pounce on anyone. I think you should help and make your husband understand the situation before glaring down at me. I haven't done anything," Lancelot raised his hands in a surrender position, "Hear the story from your wife," said the man a little alarmed when Leonard pulled out a silver pistol from this cloak which he had started to carry very recently, "I haven't done anything," he iterated carefully where the couple stared at him with an accusing look which was filled with no mercy. 

"How do we believe your word? You could have turned to Sister Isabelle and made me want to believe that it was she who spoke when it could be you all along," said Vivian as she tried to calculate the moves of the switcher.

"I have no intention to harm you. I have no plan as such, I am here only to help," the switcher offered, keeping his voice sincere but the couple didn't buy it. 

Leonard who had placed a protective arm in front of Vivian gave the man's words some thought, said, "Prove it."

"Proof?" the switcher raised his eyebrow in question, "What kind of proof do you want?"

"Anything that will make us believe that you have no intentions to plot against us. What were you doing hiding the fact?" interrogated Leonard, his eyes blazing with hate and suspicion in them. 

"I can explain," the switcher who went by the name Lancelot said but before he could say anything more the man whom Vivian had previously sent with Father Connor arrived at the door along with the priest. 

"What is going on in here? I thought you took the survey here already and there's nothing more in here," said the other councilman with a gruff voice where he took in everyone's expression.

Father Connor seemed to look at everyone too, not that he minded the extra presence in the white witch's room but because he could sense the heavy atmosphere here. Something was brewing in here but he didn't know what. Did he want to know? The answer to it was no. He remembered the words Sister Isabelle had said to him before she had left the Church a week ago. 

'Stay away from the council. The far and out you stay from their business the better it is. You will live that much longer', those had been her parting words for him.

Father Connor took in her golden words. In the least amount of time that had pa.s.sed, he had seen the black witches appear and disappear from sight after being burnt, not to forget the vampires who roamed around the lands where it was never safe for a human-like him. And it didn't matter if he was a priest or not, he would be killed regardless of his service to the people here. 

"If the room has no further investigation, I would like to lock it up," said Father Connor and it was Vivian who responded to him. 

"Yes, please. Let us step out of the room, it is getting a little stuffy in here," she said trying to ease the tension which she could still feel as she herself was burning with questions for the man. Giving him the priest a smile, she was the first one to step out and the last one was father Connor who spent in locking the room so that no one would come to enter this particular room now. 

"Is it another form or is it your own body?" asked Vivian with a hushed whisper where the other councilman couldn't hear her question to the switcher who walked beside her. 

"It is a form I acquired after killing this one," the switcher answered with an unapologetic tone. He seemed as if too tired to answer her questions. Vivian's eyes widened and she knew Leonard was close and eavesdropping on their conversation as they were yet to know what was this man's purpose. As they had father Connor as well as another councilman with them, they couldn't openly go to accuse one after another as to what this switcher was doing in the council. 

"Hector, go inform Creed that the white witch has run away. We didn't find any breakthrough in the church to a.s.sume she was taken away forcibly somewhere we don't know," said the switcher to his fellow teammate. Lancelot must have been in a higher position for the other man to nod and obey his orders, "I will go speak to the townsfolk and see if I find out anything. I do have a helping hand today," the switcher smiled giving a look at both Vivian and Leonard. 

"Okay. I will see you in the council department," responded the man, giving a slight bow to the people in the church, he walked towards the double doors and exited the church. 

"Father Connor, how is the chimney?" asked Vivian.

"He did a good job. Had the man climb the roof at the top," it seemed like father Connor wanted to snicker but it would have been rude on his part, therefore at the end, he cleared his throat, "Would you like to see the woods?" 

Vivian bit the inside of her cheek, giving a look at both Leonard and Lancelot, she finally gave a firm nod, "Yes, please."

"Come with me, milady. I thought you were going to be there but then you disappeared..." the priest's voice trailed as both he and Vivian walked towards the other door in the corner and disappeared behind it, leaving the two men at the front of the church. 

Leonard's gaze fell on the switcher, his eyes hardening at the mere sight and thought that this was one was switcher. Until now he had never across one, he had heard the rumours about the switcher roaming and taking in someone's form in the council but no one ever knew as to who it was. It was too hard to guess and too critical to leak information that would disrupt the balance that was upheld inside the council all these years. 

"Speak before I run the bullets in your head," threatened Leonard, his eyes had turned dark with hate. 

"You will need silver bullets to kill a switcher, Duke Leonard," the switcher smiled but Leo was in no mood for humour. 

"Don't worry about it. Every one fo them in here is made of silver bullets that have been made under and in the presence of the holy water," Leo informed the switcher to see the smile falter on the man's lips when he gave out the information about the bullets, "Not smiling anymore?" mocked Leo for the man to grin.

"I would if you didn't have the gun. Like I said, Duke Leonard. I only mean to help-"

"By killing people? Poisoning the hearts?" 

Lancelot shut his mouth, twisting it before he opened to speak again, "I had nothing to do with the corruption of the hearts."

"If not you, who was it then?" Leo's cool was going to blow off and he had to try hard to not go rampant right now. His parents had been killed, his cousins and other people all because of the switchers, forgiveness right now didn't run through him and was a word that didn't come by cheap. 

"It was another switcher who doesn't live anymore," answered the switcher keeping his eyes on the Duke and his hand which held the pistol with silver bullets. One silver bullet in the head and he would be dead, knowing the reputation the Duke held when it came to his temper, the switcher didn't want to test the waters, "I haven't killed any innocent beings. This man here," he patted his own chest to emphasize the councilman's body he had acquired, "He wasn't a good man."

"You are no one to decide if someone is good enough to live or not," Leonard's clipped words came through his gritted mouth. 

"True. Very true but believe me when I say this, he really wasn't worthy. Would you still redeem him to be worthy if I said he plotted to kill your said wife?" if it was possible Leonard's eyes darkened further and they narrowed considerably to thin slits. The cork of the pistol moved and the switcher quickly spoke, "That is just an a.s.sumption. No need to pull the cork," he raised his hand, "Switchers like us have limited years to live. Very short and it can be considered as good as a dog or a cat. Maybe thirty-five. If one is lucky maybe forty but there's a trick to it too. We all want immortal lives. Let me correct it, we crave for immortality like the rest of you."

"Did you find it?"

"Unfortunately no," the switcher's tongue clicked in distaste, "I did try moving from one body to another but you need to jump quickly for it, find quality bodies and it is very rare to find quality bodies. You might think you found a quality one but sometimes they are easy to rot."

Leonard looked at the man, his eyes that had narrowed staring at the man without blinking his eyes, "How old are you?" 

"Me?" smiled the man, "I am forty-two years old. One of the oldest among the switchers," declared the man, "I didn't meet the switcher as the person died before I could meet but I have met the person who ordered to pick your family and tear it apart." 

 Seconds pa.s.sed by and when no words came out of the man's mouth, Leonard pulled the cork of the pistol again this time making the man fret, "What are you doing?!"