Reborn, Its Time To Save My Family And.. My Enemy!
Chapter 208: Her First Ritual

Chapter 208: Her First Ritual

Olivia swallowed. she did not even want to ask why a big man like him wanted to be protected!

Rhistel’s eyes held her for a long moment, and then, as if a switch had been flipped, the glint of sincerity in them vanished. He tilted his head and stepped back from the shelves.

"But enough about Oriana," he said, almost too casually. "We were speaking of you."

Olivia’s shoulders tensed. She wasn’t ready, and yet—she was. Her heart had decided long before her mind caught up.

Rhistel’s voice dropped, no longer playful, but heavy with meaning. "Are you prepared to take responsibility for what you are, Olivia?"

Her breath hitched. The air around them had grown colder, or maybe it was her blood that had chilled. But still, she nodded. "Yes," she said softly. "I think I am."

He watched her quietly, searching for any hint of doubt. But though her voice had trembled, her eyes did not waver. That was enough.

With an approving nod, he turned toward a cabinet near the corner of the room. From within a hidden compartment, he retrieved a small, ornate box carved with symbols she didn’t yet recognize. He brought it to her and opened it slowly.

There was a key inside but she did not see the books locked. He placed it gently into her palm.

"This," he said, "opens a door you have to find yourself. I don’t even know where it is."

He stepped back and opened another case. Inside, dozens of vials shimmered with strange substances—herbs, powders, fragments of bone, petals that didn’t belong to any flower she knew.

"If you are not interested in the history and reason of your origin, then you can start by testing your powers. You have found the spellbook right." she nodded, with no desire to hide it anymore.

"I have the ingredients," he said calmly. "If you’re ready... you can start practicing and see, except making medicines what else you could do."

"You are going to help me?" he shook his head looking annoyed.

"I am a keeper, my lady. I did not help, I only see." He smiled faintly. "It is not that I can not work but that would make me a fool. You don’t bind the wind, you learn to fly with it. And I’ve waited too long to see what kind of storm you really are."

"So when are you starting?" he asked, making her blink.

"I need to bring the book first." she explained only for him to laugh.

"You can summon the book. You do not need to bring it everywhere with you. That book is bound to your blood." she frowned as she was sure she had never seen the book stirring with her thoughts.

But he looked more than sure and she could only continue on his whim. She was sure it was not going to happen. But when she closed her eyes and remembered the book, she felt it moving.

She opened her eyes wide and her lips parted with a gasp when she heard a strong thud. The book had fallen on the table near her.

"Here, now you have everything you need." he clapped, "do you want me to stay or leave?"

She could feel Rhistel’s gaze on her, but he said nothing. She flipped the book open.

The pages fluttered on their own for a moment, flipping with the windless rustle of fate itself, before settling near the beginning. The script was old but clear, shifting slightly as if responding to her presence. The ink glowed faintly as her fingers brushed the margins.

She flipped the pages slowly. It had all kinds of spells and rituals from tracking spells used to find someone to erasing memory spells where she could make others forget about her existence. Her eyes stopped on a page where it taught her how to turn humans into frogs. It made her chuckle as she remembered the old joke about witches.

There were various healing spells and her eyes stopped on one. The one that lets you see old memories of any person alive just by touching them and performing a simple ritual.

"Memory Scrying: To Recall That Which Sleeps"

Her breath caught.

The instructions were deceptively simple. A basin of water. A sprig of ashroot. A drop of blood. A spoken phrase.

"Can I use it on myself?" she asked in a whisper almost to herself.

"You can try and see!" Yet, Rhistel offered a reply softly.

Rhistel, somehow, was already moving. He retrieved a small brass basin, setting it on a flat stone stand beside her. From a drawer in the cabinet came the ashroot—withered, thin, but still pungent—and he dropped it gently into the basin.

A knife followed, placed beside her without a word.

"You don’t need much," he said, voice quiet. "Just enough to open the veil. It won’t hurt... much."

She gave him a look but said nothing. With a steady hand, she pricked her finger and let the blood drip into the water. It spread through the surface in delicate tendrils, blooming like crimson smoke.

Her mouth moved almost on its own, the words on the page slipping past her lips:

"By root, by blood, by thread unseen,

Show me what lies where I have been.

Unlock the dreams, the quiet cries,

That sleep beneath my childhood skies."

The water shivered. The root dissolved into black mist, and her reflection flickered, warped, then disappeared entirely.

The basin began to glow faintly. She leaned closer to see properly.

At first, there was only darkness. Then it started to form shapes. A flicker of a field where a child was running barefoot. A voice calling her name from behind "Olivia!"

Her younger self turned. Her hair was longer, tangled, her cheeks red with laughter. There was another girl behind her, a little older.

"Mother is looking for you. She said the healer would heal you. Do you not want to get rid of those dreams?"

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