I'm Valerie Winters, a witch of the Order of Venus. That's one of eight magical Orders, each named after a planet. We live quietly among humans what we call mundane
never revealing who we truly are. Most people pass us by without ever knowing what we are. And that's exactly how it's supposed to be.
Our world is ruled by the Cosmic Court. Eight council members, one from each Order, make the laws that keep both our world and theirs safe. They protect the balance and make sure the darkness never breaks through. Black magic is strictly forbidden. It's dangerous and unpredictable and the Court doesn't tolerate it.
More than anything, we're told never to show our powers to a mundane. No matter what. Because peace between our worlds depends on secrecy. If the truth ever got out… everything could fall apart.
It was a beautiful morning in Saint Harley
the sort that made the town feel peaceful. But the peace didn't last. We got a call about a body found outside the university gates. Burned. Unrecognisable. Officer John and I drove straight there.
When we arrived, the body was completely burned. Unrecognisable. The students and staff were shaken. John stood beside me, staring at the remains.
"Looks like murder," he said.
"yeah I think so," I replied quietly.
We started searching the area for clues. That's when Mayor Woods showed up. She's been mayor of Saint Harley for six years a confident woman in a black leather coat, with long braided hair down to her hips. She's half British and half Nigerian, with a presence that always turned heads. But she's more than that. In the supernatural world, she's the Warden of the Order of Mars, one of the eight council members of the Cosmic Court. No one in town knows her true nature, and that's how it's meant to be.
"Where was the guard last night?" she asked the headmaster sharply.
"I don't know," he answered. "I left the campus yesterday evening. When I came back this morning, he was gone."
"Find the guard," she ordered one of the officers.
Then she turned to me. "Who's the victim?"
"We're not sure yet," I said. Just then, John called out.
"Found something a woman's wallet. It's damaged, but there's an ID."
He opened it. The card belonged to Iris Bowman, a twenty-two-year-old student. Red hair, blue eyes, freckles. English Literature student in the Campus of the Saint Harley.
Mayor Woods bent over the body, looking closer. Something caught her eye—faint markings burned into the skin. Old symbols linked to black magic. Forbidden magic.
Her expression stayed calm, but I saw something shift in her eyes.
"Officer Winters," she said quietly, beckoning me aside. "I need a word."
"Is everything alright?" I asked.
"I want you to take this case," she said ,I think this is connected to black magic.
"What kind exactly?"I asked
"I'll explain tonight," she said. "Come to the Cosmic Court tonight." Then she left in her car
Later, John and I made our way to Iris's house to inform her mother of the tragic news. We knocked gently on the door, and it was Mrs Bowman who answered. She had the same rich red hair as Iris and carried a warmth that filled the space around her—a sweet, gentle woman.
She was a single mother. Mr Bowman had died in a car accident when Iris was just a toddler, leaving Mrs Bowman to raise her daughter alone. Iris had been her only child, her entire world. And now, in one cruel twist of fate, she had lost the last of her family.
"Hello, officer," she greeted me with a confused smile, her voice soft but pleasant. "How can I help you?"
I hesitated, bracing myself before replying, "I'm so sorry to have to tell you this... but we found your daughter, Iris, dead this morning."
"M-my daughter is in... in her room," she stammered through tears. "She was home last night... she went to sleep."said Mrs Bowman
In a flurry of emotion, she rushed past us towards Iris's bedroom. When she saw the empty bed, the reality hit her with unforgiving force. She collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, screaming her daughter's name.Now, Mrs Bowman was alone.
"I feel sad about Mrs Bowman," Jone said quietly, the sorrow etched into his voice.
"Me too," I replied. "She's lost everyone. Now she's all alone."
"Well, I'll see you later the mayor wanted a word with me."
"I can drop you off, if you'd like," Jone offered, his voice soft and sweet, laced with a playful flirtation and framed by that charming smile of his.
"You must be tired," I told him gently. "You should head home. I've still got a few errands to run before going to the mayor's office. It'll take a while."
"If you're sure," he said with kindness, though a hint of disappointment lingered beneath his words.
And so, we went our separate ways.
Jone is truly a kind soul. Women are easily charmed by his gentle manner, his wavy dark brown hair, and those striking blue eyes. He looks as though he's stepped out of a magazine, yet fate led him down the path of service as a devoted police officer. I know he likes me perhaps more than just a friend but that's all I can see him as A friend.
I had just arrived at the Old House on the edge of Saint Harley. From the outside, it looked like a small, weathered English cottage simple and quiet. But once I stepped inside, it's like a palace from the 18th century: grand chandeliers hanging from high ceilings, warm golden lights glowing across polished wooden floors, and a wide staircase with a carved wooden bannister leading up to the upper levels. The house was huge, filled with countless rooms and departments spread across multiple floors.
The place was always bustling. Witches, warlocks, elves, and werewolves all allies of the Cosmic Court moved through the halls as if it were their second home. The Council Hall was on the top floor, and as I headed toward the lift, I ran into Mayor Woods.
"You're right on time," he said, giving me a nod. "All the council members are here."
I stepped closer. "Can you tell me what's going on?"
Then she replied "wait till we get to the council hall"
We entered the Council Hall a large, round room with a circular table at its centre. Above the table hovered a glowing image of the eight planets, each moving around the other in perfect rhythm. It looked like a hologram, but even more lifelike almost as if the planets themselves were right there.
The room was decorated with old European-style oil paintings, highlighted by touches of golden paint. The ceiling was made of glass, rounded like a dome, and even up there, more of the same kind of paintings were displayed. Seven council members were already seated when Mayor Woods walked in and joined them.
The oldest and most respected council member, Sir Benjamin Whitmore Warden of Jupiter sat tall at the far end of the table. He was eighty-five, with a round face, grey hair and beard, wearing a white suit and tie. His presence demanded attention.
"Miss Winters, correct?" Sir Benjamin asked kindly.
"Yes," I replied.
"So, she's the one who found the body," said the Warden of Earth, turning to Mayor Woods.
Mayor Woods answered, "Yes. Although the Cosmic Court is already investigating, she will take the case forward. A normal police officer wouldn't be able to uncover what's hidden in our world."
The Warden of Earth nodded. "If she works from the mundane world, it helps keep our hidden world protected."
I asked, "What kind of black magic is this? Why is it such a big deal?"
Sir Benjamin leaned in. "It's called the Ritual of the Blood Moon. It involves many sacrifices, and we believe Iris was one of them. The ritual is extremely dangerous—if completed, the person gains the power of all eight Orders. It's been tried only once, a thousand years ago. That attempt failed. The person did gain immortality… but dark forces entered him. He's still alive, and those forces are trapped inside him."
I paused, then asked, "Where is that person now?"
Before anyone could answer, a man stood up quickly. Pale skin, long curly hair to his shoulders—he looked furious.
"We're not allowed to reveal that information!" he shouted.
That was George Evans, Warden of Mercury.
Sir Benjamin remained calm. "You'reDismissed for now
After two days of searching and a full post-mortem, neither the mundane authorities nor the Cosmic Court could uncover anything about Iris or the curse. With no answers to be found, it was time to lay her to rest.
I decided to attend the funeral.
Something felt off the moment the burial was complete. The air grew heavy. Everyone fell silent unnaturally so. They didn't linger, not even for a moment. Without exchanging a single word or expression, they simply turned and left. Even Iris's mother showed no sign of grief. Her eyes remained dry. It was as if everyone present were being controlled
subtly, quietly by someone else.
Once the mourners had gone, I returned to my house, unsettled. A short while later, my neighbour, May Thorne, rushed over. Her face was pale, anxious.
"Do you remember Iris?" she asked breathlessly.
"Yes, of course I do," I replied.
She looked frightened, confused. "No one else does. Last night everyone was talking about her… and today it's like she never existed."
Something felt wrong at the funeral and now May's reaction made it even more unsettling. She wasn't just confused, she was alarmed. It wasn't that people were avoiding talking about Iris they genuinely didn't seem to remember her at all. Yesterday, she had been the centre of every conversation. Today, it was as if she'd never existed. And the silence at the funeral... the blank expressions… even her own mother showing no emotion.