Spending time in France is great, and what would make spending time in France better? Spending it with a certain blond, magical girl.
Fila had been shocked when a letter arrived at breakfast this morning. At the seal on it had been the Delacour seal, according to Evan. So what did Fila think about this. well first thing she don't even know how she knew where she lived and who she were, Fila had only told her first name.
According to Vinda this information wouldn't be hard to get with the connections that the Delacour family had to the ministry. And this brought another issue she had, did the ministry really just hand out information about her like candy to a child?
Fila looked at the letter in her hands again, running a thumb over the wax remains of the Delacour seal.
"Don't take it personally, Ophelia," Vinda said, setting her coffee cup down with a soft, elegant click against the saucer. "The French Ministry of Magic isn't handing out your files to just anyone on the street. But the Delacour family is incredibly prominent in France. Her father holds quite a bit of sway in our government circles. If they requested the address of a foreign student visiting a registered ancient estate like this one... well, minor bureaucratic wheels grease easily for them."
Vinda paused, her sharp eyes studying Fila's reaction. "The real question is not how she found you, but what she wants. Did she say?"
Fila looked down at the parchment, scanning the elegant, loopy cursive that seemed to radiate the same effortless confidence as the girl herself.
"She wants to meet up," Fila said, her voice a mix of disbelief and genuine excitement. "She said she enjoyed our chat, and company." She left out the part where they had talked about her switching schools.
Evan let out a low, impressed whistle from across the table.
Evan shook his head, looking up from his paper with a wide grin. "The Delacours don't just hand out invitations to their estate for casual chats. You must have made quite the impression on that girl, Little Flower."
"Well, we did get along," Fila admitted, feeling a slight warmth rise to her cheeks as she folded the parchment and tucked it safely into the pocket of her robe. She thought back to the lake, the magnetic presence of the blonde girl, and the surprisingly easy rhythm of their conversation.
Vinda leaned back, her expression thoughtful as she watched the soft smile on her granddaughter's face. "The Delacours are a powerful family, Ophelia. Cultivating a friendship there is not a bad idea at all, especially if you plan on spending more time in France in the future. When does she wish to meet?"
"Tomorrow afternoon," Fila said, her mind already racing through the clothes she had brought with her.
"Perfect. That gives us just enough time to make sure you arrive looking exactly as a Rosier should," Vinda noted, her eyes shifting to Fila's fresh haircut and that striking new white strand. "And I think that new style of yours will do wonderfully to show her you aren't just any ordinary student."
Fila smiled, looking out the large conservatory windows. A chance to see Fleur again was exactly the kind of distraction she needed from the looming tension of her upcoming trip to London.
Evan left soon after, and ones he did Vinda turned to her. "Tell me dear. Did you feel something. Strange. When being near her?"
The question confused Fila, "No…" and than her face turned red. "NO"
Vinda laughed and held her hand to her mouth as she tried stopping herself from laughing. While Vinda was having the best time of her time, fila just felt confused and embarrassed.
Vinda finally managed to stop laughing, though her eyes were still crinkled with warm amusement at Fila's bright red face. She reached across the table and patting Fila's hand gently, trying to soothe the girl's embarrassment.
"I apologize, Ophelia. I did not mean to tease you so," Vinda said softly, her tone shifting to that of a teacher explaining a complex piece of magic. "But it is a serious question. The Veela allure is a powerful thing. For many wizards and even some witches, being near a Veela can cloud the mind, making them do or say incredibly foolish things just to earn a smile."
Fila took a deep breath, her face cooling down as she processed what her grandmother was saying. She thought back to her conversation with the blonde girl by the lake.
"I... I did notice that people were staring at her," Fila recalled, resting her chin in her hand. "And she was definitely beautiful. But my mind wasn't clouded. We just talked. It felt normal. Easy, even."
Vinda nodded slowly, her sharp eyes gleaming with approval and a deep, analytical interest.
"That is excellent, Ophelia," Vinda praised. "It means your own magic and your will are incredibly strong. You were able to see past the inherited allure and connect with the girl herself. That is a rare trait, and I can assure you that she likely noticed it too. Most people cannot look at a Delacour without stumbling over their own feet."
Fila smiled, feeling a quiet sense of pride. She was glad she hadn't made a fool of herself, and it explained why the girl had seemed so interested in keeping in touch.
"Now," Vinda said, standing up from the table and smoothing down her skirts. "Since you have cleared that hurdle without even trying, let us make sure you are properly dressed for tomorrow. We cannot have you visiting the Delacour estate looking anything less than spectacular."
Fila thought about it for a moment and then nodded firmly. "I want to go with something sharp. Dark."
Vinda's smile was sharp and deeply approving. "A bold choice. Contrast is a very powerful tool in a room full of bright, airy aesthetics."
The two of them headed up to the dressing quarters. After combing through several of the exquisite garments tailored for the estate, they landed on the perfect ensemble. It was a structured, tailored jacket and skirt in a fabric so dark it was practically midnight, with clean lines that framed her silhouette beautifully.
The dark fabric made her bright blue eyes pop intensely, and more importantly, it made that single, stark white strand of hair by her left temple look like a deliberate, striking work of art.
"Perfect," Vinda murmured, adjusting the lapel of the jacket slightly. "You look formidable, Ophelia. Polite, but not to be trifled with."
Fila had to be a little honest to herself, she wasn't used to see herself in these sort of clothes. Coming from wearing simple pants and a oversized shirt or hoodie to wearing sized fitted skirts and shirts, really was a stark contrast.
The next afternoon, Fila arrived at the gates of the Delacour estate via a polished carriage arranged by Vinda. As she stepped out onto the gravel path, she took a steadying breath, smoothed down the front of her dark jacket, and looked up at the sprawling, sunlit chateau.
She didn't have to wait long. Walking down the stone steps of the terrace was the familiar, breathtaking figure of the blonde girl, dressed in a light, flowing dress that billowed gently in the summer breeze.
When her eyes landed on Fila, they widened in genuine surprise, quickly melting into a brilliant, dazzling smile.
"Ophelia!" she called out, her French accent thick and musical. She picked up her pace, closing the distance between them. "You look... wow. And your hair! It is magnifique!"
Fila smiled, the tension in her shoulders melting away at the girl's warm greeting. Instead of leaning into stiff family politics or trying to match the sheer grandeur of the chateau, she decided to keep things calm and easy.
"Thank you," Fila laughed softly, reaching up to adjust the white strand of hair by her face. "I just wanted to spice things up a bit before heading to London. And you look wonderful yourself. This place is beautiful."
The blonde girl beamed, clearly delighted by Fila's relaxed attitude. She reached out and lightly linked her arm with Fila's, steering her toward the sprawling, sun-dappled gardens.
"I am so glad you could make it," she said as they strolled down a gravel path lined with fragrant white roses. "Everyone at home is always so serious, fussing over politics and Ministry business. It is exhausting. I was hoping for a calm afternoon with someone who doesn't just want to talk about school politics."
Fila felt a wave of relief. This was exactly the kind of easygoing energy she had been hoping for.
"I completely understand," Fila said with a grin. "If I had to dodge one more of my uncle's 'training' jinxes this morning, I think I would have turned him into a shrub."
Her host let out a bright, musical laugh that seemed to make the surrounding flowers bloom just a little bit brighter. "Then let us agree to a strict 'no magic and no politics' rule for the next few hours. Just tea, pastries, and good company."
They walked deeper into the lush estate, heading toward a beautiful stone gazebo where a table was already set with a steaming teapot and a colorful array of delicate French pastries.
Fila reached for a delicate lemon tartlet and took a bite, letting the bright, sweet flavor melt on her tongue before speaking.
"I'd love to know what you do just to unwind," Fila said, resting her chin in her hand. "When you aren't being the perfect student or studying advanced magic. What's your escape?"
Her host smiled softly, her gaze drifting out over the rolling green hills of the estate.
"I love to ride," she admitted, her voice taking on a warm, relaxed quality. "Not on broomsticks, though I am good at that too. I mean horse riding. There is a specific breed of winged horses my family keeps. When I am up there in the clouds, with just the wind and the sky, nobody can ask me about the tournament. It is perfect freedom."
She turned her bright eyes back to Fila. "And what about you, Ophelia? Besides having a green thumb that makes the entire garden sit up and take notice, what do you do for fun?"
Fila chuckled, thinking about how her life had been a whirlwind lately.
"I love flowers," Fila said after a moment's thought. "And just... getting lost in a good story. Back at school, my favorite thing was to find a quiet corner by the lake with a book and just let the hours slip away. Though lately, I've really been enjoying just practicing listening to nature. It's peaceful when it's not overwhelming."
"It sounds lovely," the blonde girl murmured, pouring them both some more tea. "It is nice to know that beneath all the talent and the intense family names, we both just want a little bit of peace and quiet."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the warm breeze, the sweet pastries, and the rare gift of a completely normal afternoon.
"I have to ask you something Ophelia." Fleur began, but she looked uncertain. "Ive noticed that you aren't as effected as others. Or do you feel… weird."
Fila paused, her teacup halfway to her lips. She set it back down on the saucer with a soft click, realizing that Fleur was asking about the exact same thing Vinda had brought up at breakfast.
The uncertainty in Fleur's eyes made Fila's heart squeeze. This wasn't a girl showing off her power; it was a girl wondering if the person across from her actually liked her, or was just reacting to the blood in her veins.
Fila gave her a reassuring, easy smile. "My grandmother actually asked me the same thing yesterday morning," Fila admitted honestly. "And my answer to her is the same as it is to you. No, I don't feel weird. My mind isn't clouded or buzzing."
She leaned forward slightly, resting her forearms on the table. "You are incredibly beautiful, Fleur. That is just a fact. But when we talk, I just feel like I'm talking to a friend. I see you, not some magical pull. It is actually really nice to just hang out and drink tea with you."
The relief that washed over Fleur's face was instantaneous and breathtaking. Her shoulders visibly relaxed, and a genuine, soft smile spread across her lips.
"You have no idea how good that is to hear," Fleur whispered, reaching out to give Fila's hand a grateful squeeze across the table. "Most people... they cannot even form a coherent sentence. They stutter, or they look at me like I am a prize to be won. To just have a normal conversation is a rare gift."
She squeezed Fila's hand once more before letting go and leaning back in her chair with a contented sigh. "I think we are going to be very good friends, Ophelia."
Fleur's smile widened, and she looked out at the vast gardens with a sudden spark of spontaneous energy in her eyes. "You know, we promised a strict 'no magic' rule, but we said nothing about a little adventure."
She stood up, brushing a few stray crumbs from her dress. "Since you are not affected by the allure, and since we both just want to escape for a little while longer... would you like to meet the winged horses I told you about? They are just past the hedge maze."
Fila didn't hesitate. She stood up too, a grin spreading across her face. "I would love to. Lead the way."
They left the shade of the gazebo behind, walking side by side down the stone paths. Fleur guided her past rows of meticulously trimmed hedges and fountains that danced with enchanted water, until they reached a wide, open paddock bordered by white wooden fences.
Beyond the fence, standing proudly in the tall grass, were several magnificent, giant Abraxan horses. Their coats were a pure, dazzling white, and their massive wings folded neatly against their sides.
"They are beautiful," Fila breathed, stepping up to the wooden railing.
"They are very proud," Fleur laughed softly, leaning against the fence. "But they are gentle if you respect them. Wait here."
Fleur gave a soft, melodic whistle. One of the larger horses pricked its ears and turned its head. With slow, regal steps, it walked over to the fence, nuzzling its large, velvety nose directly into Fleur's outstretched palm. Fleur stroked its neck affectionately before looking back at Fila.
"Come," Fleur encouraged, reaching out her hand to pull Fila closer. "Offer your hand. Let him catch your scent."
Fila stepped forward, extending her hand slowly. The massive winged creature leaned in, exhaling a warm breath that ruffled Fila's new shoulder length hair and the white strand by her temple. After a tense, silent heartbeat, the horse gently pressed its forehead against her palm.
"He likes you!" Fleur clapped her hands together, her laughter ringing out in the quiet afternoon.
Fila looked at the winged creature and felt like she had seen them before, maybe just from school. Fila had always liked animals of the magical world. Even the Niffler she had befriended during creature study one time still lingered in her mind and she often brought it snacks from the kitchen when professor Marisol Reyes wasn't looking.
The memory of that little Niffler brought a bright smile to Fila's face as she continued to stroke the velvety nose of the massive Abraxan.
"I've always had a soft spot for magical creatures," Fila admitted, chuckling softly. "I used to sneak snacks from the kitchens for a Niffler back at school. I think Professor Reyes would have had my head if she caught me, but it was totally worth it."
Fleur laughed, a warm and melodic sound. "A Niffler! Oh, they are adorable but such little troublemakers. I can just imagine you sneaking around with pockets full of shiny things and bits of bread."
Fila grinned at the accurate mental image. They stood there at the fence for a long while, the giant winged horses occasionally nudging them gently for attention. The silence between them was easy, filled only by the rustling of the leaves and the soft breathing of the Abraxans.
"Would you like to see the rest of the property?" Fleur asked, looking over at Fila with sparkling eyes. "We have a small lake toward the back that is much quieter than the one at school. No grand standing structures or professors walking by. It is my favorite place to read."
"I'd love to," Fila said enthusiastically.
They walked side by side, leaving the paddock behind. The path opened up into a more wild, untouched part of the estate. The trees grew taller here, and the manicured grass gave way to soft, wild clover.
Soon, a small, crystal clear lake came into view. It was perfectly still, reflecting the brilliant pinks and deep oranges of the approaching sunset like a perfect mirror.
"Wow," Fila breathed, stepping up to the water's edge. "This is incredible, Fleur."
"It is, isn't it?" Fleur murmured, sitting down on a large, smooth rock near the bank and patting the space next to her. "Come, sit. This is the best part of the day."
Fila joined her on the rock, pulling her knees up to her chest. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, the tranquil beauty of the French countryside surrounded them, making all the heavy expectations of their everyday lives simply fade away.
They didn't speak for a long time, simply sitting there.
Fila didn't do this much on the outside with her friends, mostly because of her own fault. She had been so occupied with training and keeping up with herself that she hadn't thought about doing things with her friends like this. and it made her trip to see Theo feel a lot more special.
Fleur who had invited, even just after meeting once. And it had made Ophelia feel so much better to just spend time with someone she could call a friend.
"Ophelia. Have you thought about transferring school since we talked." Fleur asked, but she didn't look away from the lake.
Fila looked at the blond girl, "I don't know yet. I have a lot to think about."
Fleur nodded. "it's a big decision, and I respect you for it. I for one would never transfer, because of my friends and the love for the school." Now she looked over at Fila. "and I don't expect you to do that either, but it would be a lot of fun to have you there." She said with a playful wink.
The two shared a quiet laugh, the sound carrying softly over the mirror like water of the lake.
"I'll definitely let you know if I decide to make the leap," Fila said, her voice warm. "But regardless of where I go to school, I am really glad we met. This afternoon was exactly what I needed."
"Me too," Fleur agreed softly, pulling her knees up to match Fila's posture. "It was... perfect. A real breath of fresh air."
They sat together on the smooth rock until the last slivers of pink and gold faded into a deep, velvety indigo. The first stars were just beginning to blink into existence above the quiet French countryside when Fleur finally stood up, brushing off her skirt.
"We should probably head back before my parents send out a search party," Fleur said with a light chuckle, extending a hand to help Fila up.
Fila took her hand, stepping down from the rock. The walk back to the chateau was peaceful, the air cooling down and smelling of damp grass and night blooming jasmine. When they finally reached the grand stone terrace where Fila's carriage was waiting, the two girls turned to face each other.
"Fleur, if the tournament or your family ever gets to be too much," Fila said, looking at the bright terrace lights reflecting in the older girl's eyes, "you always have a standing invitation at the Rosier manor. Our gardens are quite nice, and I promise to keep my uncle from throwing any jinxes your way."
Fleur beamed, the warmth in her smile easily rivaling the glow of the chateau's lanterns. "I might just take you up on that, Ophelia. Thank you. It is a wonderful offer."
Impulsively, Fleur stepped forward and pulled Fila into a warm, genuine hug. Fila was a bit surprised at first but quickly melted into it, returning the embrace. The faint scent of rosewater and something distinctly magical drifted from Fleur.
"Have a safe journey to London," Fleur whispered as they pulled apart, her hands resting lightly on Fila's shoulders for a brief moment. "And you must write to me. I want to know all about your trip."
"I promise I will," Fila smiled.
Fila held out her hand, and from it grew a blue rose. But this rose looked special. Its encased in some sort of crystal, almost like ice or glass.
Fleur's eyes widened, shimmering with delight in the evening light as she looked at the delicate creation. She reached out and took it gently, cradling the frozen rose in both of her palms.
"Ophelia, this is... beautiful," Fleur whispered, tilting it slightly to let a stray beam of light from the lanterns catch the crystalline surface. It didn't melt in her warm hands. "It is absolutely stunning. I will keep it in my room, as a reminder of our afternoon."
"I am glad you like it," Fila said, her smile broadening. "Consider it a thank you for the tea and the escape."
With a final, lingering wave, Fila stepped up into the polished carriage. The door clicked shut with a satisfying thud, and with a gentle jolt, the horses began to pull her away down the gravel drive. Leaning back against the plush velvet seats, Fila looked out the window at the receding lights of the Delacour estate.
She felt lighter than she had in weeks.
The clip-clop of the carriage horses was rhythmic and soothing against the gravel road. Fila leaned her head against the cool glass of the window, watching the dark outlines of the French countryside blur past.
Suddenly, the horses let out a terrified, shrill whinny, and the carriage lurched violently.
Fila was thrown forward against the opposite seat as the driver shouted a panicked command. The screech of wood against stone filled the air as the carriage skidded to a halt. Outside, the night was suddenly cut by a blinding flash of red light.
The carriage driver didn't even have time to scream before a heavy thud signaled him hitting the ground.
Fila's heart hammered against her ribs. Instinct took over. She rolled off the seat and onto the floor of the carriage, her hand plunging into her pocket to grip her wand. The air outside was thick with the distinct, metallic tang of heavy combat magic.
Thud. Something heavy landed on the roof of the carriage, making the entire frame groan. A low, distorted voice muttered an incantation from above.
A split second later, the entire left side of the carriage exploded inward. Shards of wood and glass went flying. Fila threw up a non-verbal shield just in time, the protective barrier shimmering violently as it defected the debris.
Through the massive, smoking hole in the carriage wall, Fila could see the dark woods bordering the road. Three figures stepped out from the shadows, wearing dark, non-descript robes and heavy, silver masks that caught the moonlight.
Fila did not hesitate. Instead of fighting the attackers head on in the open road, she channeled her panic into the earth beneath her.
She slammed her free hand against the floor of the ruined carriage, pushing her magic down into the ground. Thick, thorn covered roots exploded from the forest floor directly beneath the three masked figures. The sudden, violent growth caught them off guard, tearing at their robes and wrapping around their ankles with a chorus of angry cracks.
Using the momentary distraction, Fila bolted through the smoking hole in the carriage wall and sprinted headlong into the dense, dark woods.
"She's running! After her!" a voice snarled from behind.
Fila ran blindly, branches tearing at her tailored jacket and whipping against her face. She could hear the heavy boots of the attackers crushing the undergrowth behind her. Red and purple spells began whizzing past her, painting the dark trees in strobe like flashes of violent light.
She turned sharply, raising her wand to a cluster of ancient oak trees. The trees obeyed and started drop its branches into the path of the chasers.
A massive, heavy bough snapped and crashed down, separating her from two of her pursuers. But the leader was faster. A jet of dark, purple light clipped her from behind.
Fila screamed as a searing, white hot pain sliced across her left shoulder. The force of the spell sent her spinning, crashing hard onto the forest floor. Her wand flew from her hand, disappearing into the dark brush.
Gasping for air and clutching her bleeding shoulder, Fila tried to scramble backward. But she was too slow.
The lead attacker stepped through the brush, breathing heavily behind his silver mask. He raised his wand, pointing it directly at her chest. A cruel, triumphant chuckle escaped him.
"End of the line, little Rosier," he hissed, the tip of his wand glowing a sickly, bright yellow as he began to cast a binding curse.
But the training fila had gone through these weeks hadn't been for nothing.
The masked wizard didn't even have time to finish his incantation. A thick, whip like vine exploded from the brush, snapping around his wand arm with bone crushing force. His spell shot harmlessly into the night sky as a second vine coiled around his ankle, violently yanking him off his feet and dragging him screaming into the dense undergrowth.
Fila didn't waste a single heartbeat watching him fall.
Ignoring the agonizing, burning fire in her left shoulder, she scrambled through the dirt on her hands and knees, frantically sweeping the leaves aside. There! The polished wood of her wand gleamed faintly in the moonlight. She snatched it up, the familiar rush of her own magic flooding back into her veins and steadying her breathing.
She pushed herself to her feet, pressing her good hand against the deep, bleeding gash on her shoulder. The fabric of her tailored jacket was ruined, soaked in warm blood, and her breath hitched in pain with every movement.
The forest was alive with noise. She could hear the other two attackers furiously blasting through the fallen oak branches she had dropped earlier. They would be on her in seconds, and the leader was already trying to hack his way out of the vines.
Her mind looked into the dirt below, the roots here are perfect.
The ground rumbled and a familiar golem appeared between her and the attackers. "Thanks Bob. Please do what you can against them."
The golem let out a hum and charged towards the chasers. Fila didn't stay to watch and took her chance to run further.
Holding her injured shoulder tightly, Fila pushed deeper into the dense tree line. Every step sent a jolt of fire through her left side, but the adrenaline overrode the pain. Behind her, the sounds of combat erupted. She heard the dull, heavy thuds of Bob's earthen fists meeting the ground, followed by the frantic shouts and explosive curses of the masked wizards as they tried to blast through her loyal golem.
Bob was buying her the ultimate gift: time.
She forced herself to slow her breathing, tapping into the quiet, listening nature of the woods around her. The forest floor was a map of hidden life, and she knew exactly how to make it swallow her presence.
Kneeling by the roots of a massive, ancient willow tree, she pressed her wand to the ground.
"Meteo," she whispered weakly, closing her eyes.
Instantly, the surrounding foliage began to shiver and grow rapidly. Moss and thick ivy crawled up the base of the tree, creating a hollow green alcove just large enough for her to slip into. As she backed into the dark space, the vines closed up behind her like a living curtain. She cast a wandless intent to mask her scent with the sharp, overwhelming aroma of pine and damp earth.
She sat in the dark, clutching her bleeding shoulder. Outside her living hideout, the sounds of the battle slowly faded into a tense, heavy silence. Bob had either been blown apart or the attackers had simply given up looking for her in the pitch black woods.
Minutes felt like hours. Her breathing was shallow, and the loss of blood was starting to make her feel lightheaded and cold. But she held perfectly still, waiting.
Finally, she heard the crunching of heavy boots on the leaves nearby.
"She's gone," a voice growled, sounding breathless and angry right outside her ivy curtain. "That stupid tree monster took too long to blast through. We need to leave before the Rosier estate sends a security patrol."
"We failed," another voice spat. "The Master will not be pleased."
The footsteps grew fainter until they disappeared entirely, followed moments later by the distinctive crack of Apparation out on the distant main road. Fila let out a long, shaky breath she didn't realize she was holding, her head lolling back against the rough tree bark. She was safe, but she was in bad shape.
Fila gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, trying to focus past the dizzying waves of pain. She knew she couldn't afford to pass out from blood loss in the middle of a dark forest. She needed to stop the bleeding now.
With a trembling right hand, she raised her wand and pointed it at her mangled left shoulder. She recalled the basic healing incantations she had practiced.
"Episkey," she whispered.
A warm, tingling sensation washed over the wound. It wasn't powerful enough to fully close the deep gash, but the flow of warm blood slowed to a sluggish trickle. The sharp, white hot fire in her shoulder dulling to a heavy, throbbing ache.
It took a massive amount of her remaining energy. Panting softly, Fila leaned against the rough bark of the willow tree, waiting for the world to stop spinning.
Once she felt steady enough to move, she carefully pushed her way out of the protective ivy alcove. The forest was eerily quiet now, the cool night air sending a shiver through her body. Her ruined jacket offered little protection against the chill.
Leaning heavily against the trees for support, she began the slow, agonizing trek back toward the main road where the carriage had been attacked. Every step was a battle against her own exhaustion, but the thought of getting back to the safety of the manor kept her moving forward.
It felt like an eternity before she finally stumbled out of the tree line and back onto the gravel road.
The scene was a wreck. The carriage was in pieces, and the horses were long gone. To her immense relief, the carriage driver was groaning and starting to stir on the ground, seemingly only knocked out by a stunning spell rather than something worse.
But Fila didn't have to wait long for help.
A sudden, thunderous crack of Apparition echoed in the quiet night air. Fila flinched, raising her wand defensively, only to lower it with a wave of pure relief.
Evan and Vinda stood in the middle of the road, their expressions fiercely protective and wands drawn. Evan's eyes immediately landed on Fila's pale face and her blood soaked shoulder.
"Ophelia!" Evan shouted, sprinting over to catch her just as her knees finally gave out.