Unable to fall asleep, for G.o.d knows how long it had been he snapped his eyes open. His eyes moving around the carriage to look at it. 

"How long until we reach the mansion?" he asked her. 

"Less than an hour," Sylvia picked the pocket watch from her dress, flipping it open to see and tell, "It is past twelve right now."

That was a lot of time, thought Isaiah to himself. 

"You can try to sleep until we reach the mansion," she said, already knowing he had tried to sleep as his eyes had been closed previously before opening them back again. Seeing him not sleep she asked, "How did you cope when you were turning to a black witch?" 

Isaiah pressed his lips, "Those were bad days. To hate and be the same thing is an everlasting conflict within the mind."

"You seem to be doing better now," most of the white witches often turned to the dark side but this man even though he had turned to a black witch, there was still some goodness in him. Most of them usually lost their mind over the magic and spells that came with being a black witch but this man had come trailing Penelope.

There were very rare black witches who were good. 

"It was thanks to the woman I met. There aren't many who are helpful," Isaiah said, a thoughtful expression forming on his face, "But it was that time. Now it isn't so. The last time I got conned and almost skinned alive," his voice came out dry.

"You know...in the beginning," said Sylvia said, "It had been white witches against the black witches. During the old period of the first generation of witches and vampires, the white witches had joined hands with the vampires but over time, the pureblooded vampires moved ahead in terms of power."

"Back in the days, the white witches were purer in sense and were easily dominated and manipulated by the vampires. This led to a disadvantage to the white witches who felt powerless as they couldn't use the magic they once learned. There were also the humans in the equation who loathed witches in general. Burning and torturing them was the human's way to show that they were better. And that was how slowly the good ones started to turn bad. It was the survival of the fittest, to outlive and overpower the others such that now the white witches have started to side with the black witches."

A small smile fell on Isaiah's lips, it was true what the vampiress just said. 

It was all just a circle where everything fell like a domino. One thing led to another and this is where everyone wherein the cross-fire. 

When they finally reached the Delcrov's mansion, Isaiah was the first one to step out of the carriage and he gave his hand for Sylvia to hold on to, helping her out of the carriage. After the tiring day, Sylvia had not been watching her step and she stepped on her own dress that made her trip but Isaiah caught her in his arms.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Sylvia quickly stepped away after catching herself and standing straight, "I must be tired," she said for Isaiah to nod to her. While Sylvia was making sure her dress didn't get caught which had been fine while she was fighting the deranged vampires, Isaiah caught someone standing in one of the balcony rooms. Watching them. 

It was the red-hair vampire. He couldn't stop wondering about their relations.h.i.+p. It made one question if something was there or not there. 

Out of sheer curiosity and boredom, Isaiah said, "I think something got caught in your hair," he went to reach for her head but Sylvia was used to maintaining distance, "May I?" his voice came out to be polite, asking for her question. She finally gave him a nod and Isaiah stepped closer, moving his head along with it to pull out a piece of the leaf which he had been holding in his pocket that he had picked up earlier.

"There it is," he said pulling away from her, a small smile on his lips that made him look like he was looking at her kindly. Before she could leave and he would walk in behind her, he caught sight of a wound on her hand and said, "You are hurt," this time his face turning to one of concern.

She had been hurt and hadn't uttered a word about it to him nor had she flinched. 

"It is a small one. I will only need to clean and wrap it up. Should be healed in two weeks," Sylvia responded, for some reason, she felt as if the atmosphere had changed around them or the man to be specific. Not sure why the aloof man was now being concerned about her, "You should rest, Isaiah."

He gave her a nod, "Yes. Please take care of yourself too," exchanging bows, they went and went on their way to their own separate rooms. Isaiah didn't bother to look up at Elliot who had been standing there and watching them earlier. All he wanted to do was check and push out of mere boredom. 

After Sylvia and Isaiah walked inside the mansion, Elliot had a small unpleasant frown that had settled itself on his forehead.

Turning around, he made his way out of the room, his shoes padding across the floor without much noise, he crossed the corridors and stepped down the stairs to go to one of the rooms. 

His footsteps coming to a halt, he raised his hand and knocked on the door for the door to open by the person...