Chapter 19: Where we spent our first winter together

--LILLIE--

As the onset of winter was officially established, the library became a place of refuge as Sable spent more time indoors. Although he would have spent the entire winter isolated upon the mountain summit, he was happy to visit the market, go to the tavern, and he became less apprehensive moving about in the part of the city that had accepted his presence—or, so it seemed, for he hardly complained nor did people glare as often. We devoted more time to his studies, and he grew more interested in reading and participated in helping me write the historical documentation of the Teragane people.

Lara and Jamie visited often, and Grandfather became less anti-social and joined us occasionally for meals. He was less skeptical around Sable, and less agitated with nonsensical discussions, giving Historia a sense of relief. She still worked for various upper-class families, often giving me lessons to write, and I occasionally assisted whenever there was a larger group of children she said were too rowdy.

Although Jamie claimed that playing music in the esteemed taverns was a better choice financially, I knew deeply that he had done so to be closer to Sable and I, for he would often invite us to attend whenever he was in the tavern below the library, and always at The Old Bowl. However, his coin purse was always inconsistent, for people were struggling more to hold onto their hard-earned Den during winter, but, as usual, Jamie was never without as he lived with his well-off family, and loved swindling himself freebies.

But, even though he was rather money-hungry, he was generous to those he loved, and he secured black sheep wool so that I could finally make appropriate clothing for Sable, insisting on helping me design it since he had already memorized the proper measurements. It was obvious that Jamie was a man of many talents, but never committed enough to follow through if it meant taking him away from his friends—or exerting too much energy that wasn’t fun enough.

By the time Jamie informed me that he had made several items for Sable, it was around the time in which Sable said he would receive his aging tattoo, which happened to be close to my own birthday. We both turned eighteen that winter, and, naturally, the others declared we must celebrate at The Old Bowl now that we were both officially adults.

“Here’s the best birthday present you could ever imagine!” Jamie sang as he handed Sable a stack of thin, clothing boxes while we stood in the main house, anticipating to all go to the tavern. “Time to finally wear your manly clothes designed by yours truly. Big boy isn’t a baby anymore.”

“Of course not,” Lara said while patting Sable on his shoulder. “He’s a mature man now.”

“Oh, stop it, he’s always been more of a man than anyone twice his age,” Historia scolded, which ignited an argument of what defined a man. And I grabbed Sable’s arm as he had grown rather stiff, tearing up at the open box that displayed a neatly folded tunic of black wool.

“Well,” I said. “What do you think? Try them on. Tell me if it’s just like your old clothes. I went through excruciating details for Jamie to get the design right, and we worked together to make the pretty details.” I lifted the tunic out of the box and pointed to the crimson red embroidery that swirled around the material, yet the shape was one like Sable’s old tunic once made by Teraganes.

“I even made sure we made the sleeves correctly,” I added, and Jamie nodded as he wrapped his arms around both Historia and Lara as they observed Sable’s reaction to the clothes. He began untying his tunic from the back that had been altered so many times, and Jamie whistled loudly as Sable exposed his torso.

“Let’s leave these guys for some much needed alone time,” Historia suggested and Jamie awed but winked at me, and Lara reminded him that he was the main entertainer that night, and the three waved goodbye, stating that they would meet us at the tavern and were excited to see Sable’s new outfit. As he continued to strip down, I opened the box that held several pairs of detachable sleeves, and the third box held trousers, undergarments, and—oh, there was another box with my name and a heart-shaped ribbon.

I opened the box that revealed a beautiful silk dress, but was rather thin, nearly sheer despite the floral pattern, and the straps were no thicker than a shoelace.

“I don’t think that would fit me,” Sable said as he leaned over my shoulder, and, suddenly, my cheeks flushed as I felt his warm breath against my neck as sudden realization caused him to wrap his arms around my waist. “It’s not for me, is it?” I folded it back into the box and placed the lid back on, and tucked my hair behind my ears as Sable quietly chuckled as he reached for the trousers and began dressing himself in the new clothes.

Dammit Jamie—why slip me a surprise like that?

“Did you pick that out?” Sable asked, and I grunted loudly as I began unpacking all the clothes that Jamie and I had made together, for once in my life busying myself with the chore of folding clothes neatly. “I think you would look beautiful in it, but it may be a little thin for winter.”

“Yeah, it’s not really for going out and around the city,” I said as Sable tucked the ends of his new tunic under the hem of the trousers, and his crimson eyes glanced up at me.

“No? Then when would you—”

“That symbol!” Grandfather shouted as he clambered down the stairs without us realizing, and he ran up to Sable and clasped his wrinkly hands near Sable’s tattoos. “This symbol! My boy—what is a demon using these for?”

“What do you mean?” Sable asked as he raised his brow while the old man traced his fingers in a line formation against each triangle. “Do you know this symbol? It is from the Teragane Sage. It is—”

“It is the air symbol for alchemy elements!” Grandfather exclaimed, and both Sable and I looked at each other, then glanced down at the old man. His wiry, wild hair swayed as he counted loudly, and I stepped closer.

“Air symbol of alchemy? What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“As in the four elements, of course my dear Brandon. You should already know this by your level of education,” Grandfather said oddly, and I rolled my eyes, wondering if he was an old apprentice that the old man often mistook me for.

“For what reason does a demon need so many air-symbols?” Grandfather Maggie asked as he stepped away, observing Sable while scratching his chin. “Hmmm—maybe you’re up to some illusion, trickery—say.”

“It was for the Aging-Ritual,” Sable explained while fidgeting with the new sleeves in his hands, and his eyes glanced nervously at me. “It was part of the Teragane tradition of keeping account of each person’s age. I thought it symbolized the mountain in which we resided our whole lives.”

“Oohh, how clever—nice cover up,” Grandfather replied as he narrowed his brows, and Sable’s eyes glanced over at me.

“You said it is the air symbol of the alchemy elements. Are there more?” I asked, and Grandfather quickly turned to face me as an unhinged smile crept across his wrinkly, gray skin.

“Forgotten your first lesson already?” He scampered away to the wall lined with shelves and rummaged through until he found charcoal and then ran over to the stack of empty paper boxes and began scribbling upon a lid while Sable and I watched his kneeling figure at the floor table.

“The four elements of alchemy are vital to your understanding of anything beyond,” he mumbled as he drew a triangle with a line across the top, similar to Sable’s tattoos. Then, underneath that shape, he drew another triangle with a line drawn through the point, but upside down, as if it mirrored the symbol of air. Then, to the left, he drew another plain triangle with the pointed part down, and to the right, a triangle with the pointed end up.

“Now do you remember? And they say I’m the one losing my mind,” Grandfather laughed as he then pointed to the triangle similar to Sable’s tattoo, reiterating that it meant air. “Then there’s earth” —he pointed to the one directly below, mirroring the air symbol, then to the others on either side— “then fire and water.”

“So, why would a Teragane use an alchemy symbol for their traditional tattoos?” I asked, and the old man laughed as he then nervously glanced up at Sable.

“You mean why would a demon—” Grandfather began, but I placed my hand on his mouth and shook my head.

“That’s enough, let’s go Sable—we have a birthday celebration to attend.” I pulled Sable away as he stumbled, attempting to put on his sleeves and I grabbed my winter cloak, and he did as well. Before the crazy old man could say anything else to wreck nervousness on my poor boyfriend, Sable and I stepped outside, but not before Sable suggested we take a short flight through his made shortcuts.

“Can I bring my glider?” I asked, causing him to grin.

“My thoughts exactly,” he said, and I rushed to grab my glider under Historia’s bed, ignoring Grandfather Maggie’s spewing of demonic nonsense, and ran back to the awning where Sable was waiting for me just outside of the window. He then bent over and I jumped onto his back, and he flew us away, ascending quickly above the tall buildings, and through the gaping hole from the branches. Instantly, a freezing wind struck my face, and snow drifted from the dark sky.

“Ready?” Sable called as a shiver ran down my spine from the sudden change of temperature, but I happily shouted as I unfolded the wings of my glider, and secured it behind my figure as I gripped the handle. I swiftly stood up, and jumped off Sable’s back, catching the air current and rising high above. I became more comfortable using the glider the more I practiced, but I had the sense of security of Sable carefully watching my every movement. His support allowed me to grow in my confidence, and I followed his flight pattern as he guided us over the dense forest that illuminated under the partial moon.

“Follow me down,” Sable instructed, as he shifted his gliding position, and I slightly tilted my glider. “Return to me when we get close to the opening.”

“No, I want to try to descend on my own!” I shouted, and Sable twisted his head.

“Are you sure? It’s tricky even for me. You need to withdraw your wingspan.”

“I want to try. And, if it doesn’t work, you’ll catch me, right?”

“Of course.” Sable chuckled nervously, but I felt confident to be more independent when flying. I watched as he continued to descend, and I noticed a light coming from a hole in the dense canopy. I readied my grip on the extension mechanism, calculating how much I would need to withdraw. I knew Sable’s wingspan was twice as large as my little glider, but I speculated the opening to be jagged with branches and potential obstacles in the city below. Sable quickly dove down to the clearing, and I followed directly behind him.

Upon entering the clearing, the difference in temperature drastically changed. I followed Sable’s every movement, dodging bridges, buildings, and eventually pulling up in landing formation like I had quickly learned from before. I only stumbled slightly in my landing, bumping into Sable, but he quickly caught me with his hands.

“Ta-da!” I exclaimed while holding my arms out wide. “See! That wasn’t so bad.”

“You’re a fast learner,” Sable said, then kissed my check, and nudged my side. “Well done, sweetie.”

“No wonder you prefer flying—it’s ridiculously fast. Saves a lot of trouble walking through the streets.” Sable chuckled, then waited for me to secure the wings of the glider, and we held hands as we began walking towards the tavern down the street. The loud cheering and musical notes echoed through the street, causing me to wonder if that is how Jamie truly built his reputation by his melodious music and cheerful audience easily heard from anywhere in the proximity of his performance.

“Do you think what Grandfather Maggie said was true about my tattoos?” Sable quietly asked.

“I think so. He is a trained alchemist after all—didn’t feel like he was spewing nonsense—that time,” I replied, and swung our intertwined hands happily. “Kinda interesting that the Sage would use something familiar in alchemy for their people. I wonder what it means.”

“Well—we are avians of the air.”

“That’s true.”

“I wonder if the tattoo rituals are part of something from the past. Perhaps the symbol is important to understanding the past of the Teragane, especially if it is used in other practiced forms.”

“Hmm. Maybe Teraganes also practice alchemy.”

“I’m thinking it has more to do with their magic. The Sage give the tattoo—the Sage perform magic—it must be connected.”

“But—what about the other elements? Do you think that the ancient people of the lands—uh, were also connected? Like the Tamarines? Meaning, maybe my ancestors were connected and something ancient has been awoken because of my connection with you, since it seems that the Teragane are the ones who know more about this stuff than us Tamarines.” Sable stopped walking, and gripped my hand tight, and he stared down the street while scrunching his nose.

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Although the city was significantly warmer than the open air in the sky, the winds still blew heavily through, casting a cold draft across my face as I patiently waited for Sable to collect his thoughts.

“Interesting,” he simply replied. The doors of the tavern flung loudly open as a group of drunks stumbled out, shouting happily and singing a silly song, and I drifted against the small window pane where I peered through the dusty panes, noticing Jamie prancing around the tavern.

“We should go in; it is our birthday celebration, after all,” I said while wrapping my arm around Sable’s back. “Oh, you never said anything about your new clothes? How do you feel? Jamie told me to make sure you know how difficult it was for him to secure black sheep wool.”

“I doubt that,” Sable replied with a chuckle. “Jamie would never do anything that required him to make extensive efforts.”

“True, although he does like to impress his friends. He would go above and beyond to impress you.”

“The clothes fit well. I’m very comfortable.”

“Good. We had to use regular wooden buttons for the tunic. Sorry. I don’t know how to carve bones into buttons.”

“I don’t either. Actually, I don’t know how to practice much from my own culture. Oh, Lillie. I feel so stupid about it all. Everyone else seems to know more about my culture than I do, or understand how things work more than I do.”

“Nonsense!” I tugged at Sable’s cloak, trying to shake him, but he stood perfectly still, unfazed by my physical efforts. He gazed through the window of the tavern, watching the people dance and sing; his crimson eyes glowed in the lantern light beaming from inside. “Remember, you’ve been purposely neglected from knowledge by the Sage to keep you ignorant of the world around you. They did this to you, remember?”

“Yes. I know.”

“You’re not stupid. Only—oh, just slightly naive. But that isn’t your fault.” I felt stupid for repeating something I hated being said to me from the past. Yet, I realized it was a shared experience of being young, immature, and inexperienced of the world around oneself. Regardless of how hard we tried, we both found ourselves in positions of ignorance. No matter what, both Sable and I felt left in the dark, purposefully thrown into situations where lack of knowledge and understanding created a sense of confusion and stupidity.

“Do you know of anyone who can perform a tattoo ritual?” Sable asked as we stood before the window.

“Really? You want another tattoo?”

“I would like to continue the tradition, if possible. It means something, I know it. Even if it only means I keep part of my culture, that is enough for me right now.”

“I don’t know of anyone, but I’m sure we can figure it out. This is a massive city, after all.”

“Thank you, Lillie.” He turned his head, breaking his gaze from the window. “Thank you for everything.” He leaned down, and I grabbed his neck while his lips met mine as we stood before the glowing window of the tavern crowded with people waiting for us to commence the birthday celebrations neither of us really cared for.

Everything was always rushing past us at the speed of a sparrow, always one thing after another, and emotions seemed to always pile up, one on the other, yet when Sable kissed me, his love for me, his faith in our relationship’s endurance was enough for all of me to steady my beating heart.

Although mysteries were constantly surrounding us at every turn of events, I knew that our love grew stronger every day. Learning to fly with a glider gave me a new reason to trust Sable’s undying devotion to my safety. Unraveling the mysteries behind his past and culture invigorated me to continue seeking answers. Even with my own unknown capabilities buried deep within my body, I knew my own mysteries were somehow tied to the Teragane people. I knew that as long as we worked together, sought truth, and chose a path for ourselves, we would learn the truth that was being purposefully hidden from us.

For what reason? I could never fully fathom, nor did I expect such future events to take place.

***

I woke early the next morning, remembering Historia’s request of joining her for a reading lesson containing rowdy children she needed help managing. Although I grunted upon sitting up, wishing I had the morning to sleep in after spending so much time dancing and drinking late into the night, I looked over and spotted Jamie nestled under Sable’s wings, Lara upon Historia’s bed that they shared, and remembered that the sibling duo had followed us home.

“Where are you going?” Sable whispered as he lifted his head while gazing at me while I dressed myself for the day.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” I replied. “I’ll be back later. Historia and I are going to a reading lesson. She needs help with some unruly children. It shouldn’t take long. Take care of our guests, will ya?” Lara gave a loud snore, and Jamie swung his arm around Sable’s neck as he twisted in his sleep.

“Okay,” he said as he closed his eyes, laying his head back onto the floor cushion, Jamie bobbing his head behind him. I kissed Sable’s forehead, then left the room and climbed down the stairs where Historia was gathering a few books, stuffing them into a leather rucksack.

“Ready?” she asked while adjusting her waistcoat underneath her cloak. I nodded while wrapping my green cloak around my shoulders. We left the library, keeping the blinds drawn and the closed sign intact across the front door. We climbed down the stairs, into the stone street and made our way to the Trinkuv district where her students waited for us.

“Fun times, last night,” Historia said with a happy sigh as we walked. “Jamie has such a beautiful voice, surprisingly for someone with such a crude vocabulary. But Lara—wow—wow, oh wow can she dance.” I rubbed my face, feeling too tired to think about the beauty of my friend, but Historia patted my back, stating that I was also a good dancer.

“Fun—yes, but I just wish Sable could relax a bit,” I said, remembering how stiffly he sat, or his hesitation to even join me for dancing while the crowd grew rowdy, cheering him loudly as they clinked their mead mugs against his.

“Aw, the poor guy just needs some more time. However, if I were to point out, he seems to prefer observation rather than participation. His eyes, when not darting for danger, are always glued upon you.”

“Honestly, I think he’s becoming less trusting of those in the city—he’s been hurt too many times, and is always on guard now. Didn’t help what Grandfather said before we came.”

“Ah—don’t tell me that he was harassing poor Sable? Damn—after all this progress.” Historia shot a quick glance at me, raising a thin eyebrow. She then stopped at a crossing street as a group of workers passed by with a trail of carts being pulled by small mules, and chickens clucked loudly from their cages within. “Let’s climb the stairs instead.”

While the animals brayed and squawked, we found a staircase leading up a level, and began climbing past the different residential homes. As Historia greeted people passing by who knew her by reputation, I also explained to her about what Grandfather Maggie had said about Sable’s tattoos, and by the time we reached the fifth level, Historia paused in front of a large porch that had stone columns and even had garden beds hanging from the railing, growing winter greenery that draped over the glorious wood.

“I find the Teraganes even more mysterious now—how peculiar—an alchemy symbol for a tattoo,” Historia said as she slowly stepped up the stone stairs while tapping her chin. “Perhaps grandfather may know a little bit more—keep asking him questions, he seems to speak concisely with you. Or, at least, without me getting frustrated.”

She stepped in front of the large glass door shimmering with light protruding from the other end, and paused her hand before knocking.

“This is why they call it unraveling the mysteries,” Historia said, then smirked as she looked over at me as I stood behind, and finally knocked on the door. “Like a cloth detangling after being wrapped up for eons—so does the hidden knowledge about the Teraganes and their connection with magic.”

“Perhaps it really is a new era of awakening,” I said just before the glass door opened by a servant. They bowed, then led us through the house and into a teaching room decorated like anyone would from the upper-class. Large windows were covered in elegant tapestries of obscene colors, perfectly clean oversized lounging chairs, and a spotless, shiny table with three small chairs around its untainted edges along with suitable writing tools.

Three just as spotless and overly flamboyantly dressed children entered with their individual nannies, escorting them over to the table in which Historia began pulling out her tattered notebooks. While the nannies left, the children’s smug little faces switched as Historia began instructing them with writing lessons listing vocabulary and understanding the word’s meaning. The two eldest seemed agitated, but tolerated their lesson most likely motivated by obligation of strict parents, but the youngest appeared to have little interest in allowing her time to be wasted in learning.

“Why are your glasses so big?” the young child taunted Historia, trying to grab her spectacles. Historia quickly moved away, placing a firm hand upon the child’s shoulder, causing her to flinch.

“All the more to see naughty children’s souls,” she teased, and the child jerked away. “Now, continue practicing your writing, like I asked you several times already.”

“Why are you so mean? Why can’t you just bug off?” the child complained.

“Shut up, Cari,” the eldest hissed. “You know mother demands us to learn. Otherwise you’ll end up as stupid as a servant—or worse.” The child’s eyes glanced up at me, and I felt the passive gut-wrenching feeling of judgement from a snobby adolescent. I wanted to smack the child across their face, but resisted as Historia patted the student’s head, recommending she worry about her own lessons.

“Perhaps little Cari needs a break?” Historia suggested. “Lillie, can you accompany my bright student for a 10-minute break?”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Cari retorted as she quickly spun off the chair.

“Yes, you do. If I let you go, I may never see you again today, and your parents would be displeased,” Historia replied. The young child rolled her eyes as Historia leaned over to me. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”

The youngest bolted for the door, and I swiftly followed as she hurriedly moved down the grand hall while swinging her arms dramatically, occasionally glancing back.

“If you leave me alone, I’ll give you some food,” the child said with a smirk. “Or, money? Do you want money? I know where mother keeps her purse.”

“You are what, seven years old? And already trying to bribe your way out of life?” I said smugly.

“I’m actually eight!” Cari yelled while upturning her nose at me, but nearly fell backwards as she attempted to intimidate me.

“Eight? Wow, you’re pretty short then.” The child gasped, then pointed a menacing finger that hardly reached past my chest.

“And you’re ugly!” She huffed through flaring nostrils, yet I knew deep down this child knew no other life than that of born privilege. She would live without need, without understanding how others in lower-class slaved away, yet her family relied heavily on their extensive back-breaking labor. However, as the small child glared at me, I realized how impressionable children were, regardless of their societal status.

“Can you do a cartwheel?” I asked, feeling inspired to change the subject. Cari’s eyes softened and she lowered her hand, the long, wispy sleeve floating softly to her side.

“Of course I can!” she shouted, then displayed a terrible excuse of a cartwheel through the long, narrow hallway, nearly knocking down a side table decorated with fake flowers.

“That was alright, but you really should work on your landing,” I said, then ticked with my tongue. She sneered, and I lifted my arms. “Like this!”

I threw myself forward, displaying a full-rounded cartwheel, and landed gently in the middle of the hall. The sneering child released a gasp, and her glaring eyes had switched to one of admiration.

“Like this?” she asked while attempting another cartwheel, but faltered onto her rear. I begin encouraging her, instructing her to keep her balance centered, and straighten her legs for landing. I allowed her to practice, and we slowly moved down the hall until the end, only knocking against a few other pieces of furniture, and causing a couple dirt stains against the lavish carpet.

“Let’s go for another round back to the class-room,” I instructed, and Cari immediately began cartwheeling with better success, and I allowed myself the joy to also partake as laughter erupted from both of us—united different classes through the joy of childish games.

A door behind us opened, and I immediately grabbed the child by a wispy sleeve as two men stepped into the hall while quietly talking.

“Cari! What are you doing out here?” the nobleman asked, and my eyes bulged at the sight of the man next to him being none other than Lord Orvin.

Shit.

“You should be in your lesson,” the father continued while a malicious smile crossed Lord Orvin’s face. “Who are you? Why? Oh, you’re Historia’s assistant, daresay? Why is my daughter out here running amuck? I’m not paying you for recess.”

“I’m sorry, my lord,” I said while bowing slightly, attempting to hide my fear of both the nobleman and the master. “Cari only needed a short break. We were just returning.”

As I looked up, the nobleman’s eyes softened, but Lord Orvin’s yellow eyes glistened with his eerie curiosity, and a shiver ran down my spine for I had hoped to never see him ever again.

“It’s okay, daddy. Lillie was showing me how to do a proper cartwheel,” Cari explained as she grabbed my side and tilted her head against me. “I’ll go back to my lesson now. Don’t be mad. Lillie is a good teacher.”

“Back to your lesson,” the father softly beckoned, then turned to face Lord Orvin. “Please excuse the disturbance. Let us continue.”

“My, no need for formal apologies,” Lord Orvin said smoothly. “Children must be valued for their unique personalities, say?”

As the two men walked in the opposite direction while speaking lowly, I turned around and directed Cari back to the lesson room. I suddenly heard approaching footsteps from behind, and as I opened the door and Cari bolted inside, a hand grabbed my shoulder, his other above my head and onto the door, closing it shut.

“Please, a moment,” Lord Orvin whispered behind, and my heart raced as I felt trapped, but determined to hide my emotions as I slowly turned to the side.

“I’m sorry, I have no time, nor anything nice to say to you,” I said, and pulled at the handle, but his hand pressing against the door was of impeccable strength.

“I only want to know when Sable will return,” he said as he slid himself against the door, causing me to back up. My hands balled into fists as he simply crossed his arms, tilting his head as if he were anything but innocent. “I still have an open position for him. I’m afraid there was a misunderstanding—nothing we cannot resolve. I also have unpaid wages yet to be claimed. Surely you two need the money, yes?”

“A misunderstanding? Ohh you are bold,” I said while scowling. “Sable will never return to your house of manipulation and exploitation.”

“And you have a sharp tongue and hot temper. I’d be careful what you say to me.”

“Nothing you say could ever justify what you did to Sable.”

“My dear, if I could have a chance to speak with him, I’m sure we can resolve this misunderstanding. You see, he was quite bold—speaking to me about love and affection all the time—his state of drunkenness can hardly be an acceptable testimony. Please—allow me the respect of explaining myself, yes? Running away from me just won’t do. I’ve been patient, waiting for the right opportunity to speak to him again—”

“No.”

Lord Orvin’s yellow eyes narrowed underneath his snowy, white hair, and, for a moment, I felt something strange—like the racing heartbeat of the underground—the energy of something vile as his hands cracked as he flared each bejeweled finger into a fist. He straightened up, towering over me, casting his dark shadow, but I held my stance firmly despite the fear circulating within. The edges of my fingers tingled, and heat flushed through my skin, but unlike anger, this felt more energizing—supernatural.

“Now, I have a lesson to assist in for the nobleman of this house,” I calmly said as the energy rushed through my body. “You are in my way—sir.”

“Do you really think hiding Sable in that tacky little library is what is best for him? You have no idea what power he holds, what key he hides for the future of these spirit-forsaken lands. You have no idea how much you weigh him down. The reason why the Teragane spirit guides keep to themselves is because they get caught up with devotion to minuscule creatures—like you.”

“Then, you should have been more respectable and held onto integrity. It’s too late—now, move.” Surprisingly, the man stepped aside from the door, and I reached out for the handle again, but he grabbed my wrist and leaned down, moving his face near my ear.

“Don’t underestimate my patience—it would be a shame if something—”

Suddenly, an electrifying sensation surged through my arm, igniting a flash of light, and both Lord Orvin and I gasped as we stepped away from each other. His eyes were wide, my arm felt a burning sensation, and I quickly flung the door open and slammed it behind. I locked it as I panted heavily, and looked down at my exposed wrist, expecting to see a burn mark from the lightning surge of pain and energy.

But, there was nothing.

There was no evidence of the unexplained light or sensation, only fear that through the heightened emotions of anger, whatever magic was running through my veins had ignited a defense against the man who was now a bigger threat than I had expected.