"Vania," Sous whispered to herself. "I don't know. The witch of Vania is very...solo like, I mean, she negotiated with Doureena, and has Kara's first born as a result but...I don't recall her helping any large group though. Hmm," Sous said. "I don't know, Hacate, I think another witch may be behind you getting placed in portals."
She turned the page of the diary:
I return to this diary with a sense of disturbance that follows me like a second shadow. I believed I understood the direction of Apex's latest mistake, but today has reminded me that assumptions are often crafted from incomplete truths.
I met the witch in Vania. The same woman I thought had entangled Apex with promises of strength and transformation. The same woman I imagined weaving a quiet snare. I prepared myself for confrontation. I prepared myself for a battle of posture, will, and calculation. Instead, I left her presence with an entirely different truth resting at the center of my thoughts.
She was not the one guiding Apex. She was not the source of the shift I sensed. She was not even interested in them beyond the amusement she gained from observing their decisions from afar. The real force behind their newfound confidence comes from a witch in Grim, someone from my home country. That revelation should not have stunned me, yet it did.
I remember arriving in Vania with caution layered beneath every step. The region has its own rhythm, one built on theatricality and sharpened beauty. The witch welcomed me at her threshold as though she had known I would arrive, and I was glad to see her again after I last meeting.
Her expression was serene. Her posture told me she expected no threat from me. Her presence was undeniable, though not in the way I imagined. She was composed, elegant, and far less predatory than the whispered reputation of Vania's witches would suggest.
She invited me inside her dwelling. I accepted because I saw no sign of deception around her. Her confidence was not arrogance. It was knowledge. She knew her abilities. She knew her boundaries. She knew I came for answers, and she intended to give them.
For reasons I still cannot name, I found myself listening to her without interruption.
She offered tea infused with a subtle warmth that settled behind my ribs. I studied her as she moved through her space with an ease that suggested centuries of refinement. She spoke without theatrics. She spoke without feigned concern.
Her voice was even, almost melodic, and every word held intention. It was clear she did not fear Apex. It was clear she never once thought to collaborate with them.
According to her, they were too impatient, too reactive, too unwilling to understand the cost of true partnership.
When I asked her directly whether she was tied to Apex in any way, she laughed, not mockingly. More like someone listening to a rumor so ridiculous it required acknowledgment before being dismissed.
She told me she had no interest in their internal chaos. She told me she had not reached out to them. She told me she had not offered anything to them. Then she leaned back, rested her hands on her lap, and revealed the information that now occupies every corner of my mind.
"Apex is being encouraged," she said, "but not by anyone from here. The influence comes from Grim. Someone there is whispering into their ranks."
The words remained in the air long after she spoke them. A place where magic sharpens itself out of necessity. A region known for its secrecy, its guarded knowledge, its vampires not its witches who rarely leave their territory unless the stakes demand it.
The combination is unsettling. It means the situation is deeper than misjudgment, deeper than greed, deeper than Apex chasing a powerful ally. It means someone far more strategic has placed themselves within Apex's orbit.
I asked her what she knew of the witch in Grim. She exhaled slowly, as though considering how much to reveal. She described her not as reckless or manipulative, but as methodical.
Someone who studies wolves the way others study scripture. Someone who views power not as a tool but as a concept to be restructured. Someone who understands hierarchy intimately and seeks to alter it.
This was the moment I understood the shape of the problem. The Apex pack is vulnerable to anyone who promises evolution. Their pride makes them crave distinction. Their fear makes them chase anything that suggests a path toward superiority.
A witch from Grim, especially one rooted in Nadia's teachings, would know exactly how to exploit those weaknesses. She would not need to tempt them. She would simply need to appear.
The witch in Vania remarked that she found the entire situation intriguing. She said she sensed the Grim witch's magic echoing across the regions. She said it felt like a quiet fog settling into places it had no right to be.
I asked whether she believed this Grim witch intended harm. She lifted her gaze and met mine with an expression that told me she had considered the same question many times. Her answer was measured. She said harm is always a possibility when someone reaches beyond their domain.
She said that witches from Nadia rarely act without a layered purpose. She said she suspected the Grim witch is pursuing something that involves more than Apex, more than wolves, more than political advantage.
I left Vania with that thought ringing in my mind. If the witch in Grim is acting out of personal intent, then her involvement with Apex is only the surface of a much deeper current. I am not easily unsettled, yet there is an unease moving within me now. A feeling that this witch is not simply tampering with Apex for entertainment or convenience. She is positioning herself for something.
On my journey home I replayed every detail of the meeting. The tone of the Vania witch's voice. The certainty in her explanations. The way she watched me with a knowing calm that suggested she expected I would respond. I suspect she understands more than she revealed. I suspect she sees threads I have not yet traced, but she gave me enough to shift the direction of my attention.
I once believed Apex was on a path of predictable failure, guided by impulsive decisions and a hunger for unnatural escalation.
Now I see they are being steered. Someone is shaping their future with precision. Someone is altering their trajectory. Someone is preparing them for a purpose they do not understand.
The witch in Grim may think she is hidden. She may think her influence goes unnoticed. She may believe she can mold Apex from afar without attracting the attention of those who understand power more intimately.
She is mistaken; I will find her. I will learn her name. I will uncover her reasons. I will not allow Apex to be transformed into a weapon for someone else's ambition.
This diary may become the only place where I can place these thoughts safely. I will continue writing until every thread has been unraveled. I refuse to let a stranger sculpt the fate of a pack that once belonged to me, even if I no longer hold their loyalty.
The witch in Vania told me the truth with a calm that felt like a warning. Now I must decide how to answer it.