Isabella raised both hands toward the sky. Her palms were open, fingers stretched like claws ready to tear through the midday air.
"No! Isabella…" Magnus shouted, his voice losing its annoying calm for the first time. "The fox doesn't have a shie…"
FLASH.
The sound was like that of a giant clapping his hands with all his might.
Four golden lightning bolts, blinding, descended from the blazing sky like the blades of an enraged god. They pierced through the quartz cage, threading between one pristine bar and another.
They were aimed straight at Emma, Sipar, me, and Lirka.
The translucent shields floated above my brother's and sister's heads, and Magnus's words suddenly took on a terrifying meaning. Lirka and I were the unprotected ones.
"Lirka!"
I hurled myself forcefully toward her, my legs burning from the effort.
I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against me, wrapping her in a desperate embrace and covering her completely with my body.
Please, work. Cursed Mark, don't betray me, at least this once.
The lightning struck with full force, but never touched us. The energy shattered around us, unleashing a deafening roar that made my ears ring; the smell of ozone and scorched grass exploded in my nostrils as it was instantly carbonized in a perfect circle.
The Mark on my sternum ignited with a light so violent and hot that I could only squeeze my eyelids shut.
The sharp pain was so unbearable, a fire devouring me from within, that every sense went dark.
The light of an oil lamp.
Where— My hands are… large… The floor is too far away.
I was walking in a dimly lit room I didn't recognize. Messy but clean. A dog curled up on the rug.
Behind me entered a person, a girl as tall as me, blue eyes, blue hair blue lips.
I—Isabella? Is she here to fight? It can't be, how old are you now?
Silent as a shadow, she entered.
We moved without speaking around the room.
Wait, my body… is moving on its own, but it's not me. What—?
We were undressing someone, no, a girl. I removed her boots, struggling with the laces that had knotted in impossible ways. Isabella, if it really was her, arranged the blanket, pulling it up to her chin with a gentleness I didn't expect.
Fox ears, canine tooth on the lip.
Lirka? You're also grown, almost a woman…What is happening?
I stood watching as Isabella tucked the blankets in, her hands moving with care. There was something deeply tender in that scene: two people taking care of a third, asking nothing in return. A family, I thought. This is what families do.
It was then that Lirka opened her yellow eyes.
Yellow. It's really you then.
Not completely, only halfway, her eyelids heavy, her gaze blurred and confused. Trying to focus, she failed miserably.
Then she saw Isabella leaning over her.
Her hand shot out, gripping Isabella's wrist with surprising strength for someone in that state.
"Blue Girl—"
Blue-girl?
Isabella froze. Her entire body stiffened, as if those words had struck her harder than any magic.
They had always been unspoken rivals. Lirka used to call her that when she was small, refusing to learn her name. I'd heard it many times and for a long time…
How do I know?
Thoughts, memories that aren't mine…
"—don't leave." Lirka's voice was slurred, the words sliding into each other like thick honey. "…stupid noble…"
Isabella swallowed. When she spoke, her voice trembled.
"I'll miss you, little fox."
"Promise…" Lirka struggled to keep her eyes open, her eyelids slowly giving in. "Promise you'll come back…"
"I promise," Isabella said, glancing away.
Lirka smiled. Not her usual sarcastic smile, not the predatory one she showed when she had the upper hand. The kind of smile that in my old life I had stopped searching for. The smile of a child who trusts blindly.
"Good…" Her eyes were closing. "Because if you don't come back… I'll come get you… and drag you back here by the ears…"
A weak laugh shook her chest. Then her eyelids drifted shut completely, and her breathing became deep and regular. The hand gripping Isabella's wrist loosened, sliding onto the mattress.
Lirka! What's happening! Are you sick? And why can't I speak or move of my own will?
Silence.
Isabella remained motionless, her gaze fixed on Lirka's sleeping face. When she finally turned, her eyes were glistening. Not crying, not yet, but close. So close.
Nothing needed to be said. There was no need.
I watched her, this Isabella I had never seen before. Without masks, without the armor of nobility, without the distance she maintained from the rest of the world. Just a girl about to leave everything she loved, not knowing if she would ever find it again.
Nobility?
We left the room quietly, pulling the door shut behind us soundlessly.
The corridor was dark and silent. Only our breathing and the beating of my heart hammered in my ears, too loud.
What place is this? Not the orphanage…
"Shall I walk you to the Fortress?" I asked.
Isabella hesitated. One beat. Two. Three beats of my pulse and our gazes locked onto each other's eyes.
"No, not tonight."
Without saying anything else, she let the words hang between us.
She hates you, you're enemies! You hate her. Is this why my heart beats so furiously?
The silence filled with something I couldn't name and my heart raced. The corridor walls closed in around us. The air had become thick, difficult to breathe. I was hyperaware of every detail: the way the moonlight filtering the window brushed her neck, the almost imperceptible movement of her chest as she breathed.
Isabella wasn't meeting my gaze. Motionless, she stared at the floor, at the wall, anywhere but at me. Her fingers twisted nervously.
"Can I…" Her voice was a whisper. "…stay here?"
Four words. Simple. That changed everything.
I thought of Lirka in the next room, asleep, unaware.
I thought of Isabella leaving in two days, whom I might not see for years. Who was here, now, asking me something I didn't even dare to hope for.
I thought about what I wanted. What I should do. All the reasons why I should say no, and how none of them mattered at that moment.
"Yes."
It was the only word I could say.
I took her hand and gently led her to my room. I lit a small oil lamp, and when I turned around, a beautiful blue young woman emerged from a dream and was pulling the door shut behind her.
Click.
***
Soft!
Soft as a cloud and warm as an embrace.
The sensation around my head was like being in flight, resting on a pile of warm feathers.
I opened my eyelids slowly, reluctant to abandon that torpor, but the chatter around me was too insistent and annoying to ignore.
"Is this what you meant when you said: 'I'm going to greet the boy for a moment'?" It was Father Tyeron's voice but strained to imitate another one.
But it was angry, in a way I had never heard from him before in my entire life.
"Ha ha ha, come now, my friend! Nothing serious happened, as you can see. Ha ha ha!" A voice that was now becoming familiar answered him with irritating joviality.
I finally managed to focus, but the first thing I saw wasn't the two men speaking. It was Lirka. Her eyes fixed on me, narrowing, her face so close I could feel her breath on my skin.
Help…What did I do wrong now?
On the verge of strangling me, she flattened her ears against her head and growled almost imperceptibly.
I moved my gaze up, searching for an explanation for that strange jealous growl, and my view finally settled on Sister Cora. Listening attentively to the conversation between the two, she absentmindedly stroked my head.
I was leaning on her, with my cheek sunken into her generous bosom.
The tight black tunic was the only barrier between my face and that softness that had made me dream of clouds.
"You're always the same, Magnus! You never think about the consequences! Like that time in Lumia!" Tyeron thundered.
"You're wrong, I've grown up considerably," Magnus affirmed with great confidence. "This time I cast protection spells left and right. I was careful that no one caught fire like that time in Lumia!"
Wait, who was at risk of catching fire here?
I tried to get up, but a sharp pain radiated from the shoulder I had used to strike Isabella. I lost my balance and sank even deeper into Cora's warm embrace.
"Grrr!" growled the little fox beside me, her fangs barely visible.
"This time no one caught fire, but see… the boy was on the ground unconscious!" the priest protested again pointing in my general direction.
"The protection spells I cast are the standard ones for magical duels. They're extremely effective for low-level clashes like this one, but in these cases they have a small, minuscule, insignificant flaw," the orange-robed mage explained.
"They have no effect on Arek?" asked a sweet voice above me.
"Exactly, my dear… um?"
"Cora. Sister Cora Siga, very pleased to meet you," she pronounced solemnly, without stopping her stroking of my hair.
"The pleasure is mine! Master Mage of three elements Magnus Loredan Honored with the Burning Cross of merit by His Majesty—"
"Enough already!" Tyeron interrupted him. "Still bragging about that rusty tin can? Sister, don't trust this man. He's a shameless womanizer."
The glare between the two men became fiery. They seemed to have known each other for a lifetime, probably not in a friendly way.
"Ah, so you're the mage who was traveling with our priest's group? I heard you moved here recently," Cora asked while I, with supreme effort, finally managed to sit up, detaching myself from her chest.
So they know each other… Wait—what was that dream?
What happened? What were those things I saw?
My head was spinning.
Isabella grown up. Me grown up, judging from the size of my hands. Lirka… injured? They looked like allies, no, Isabella and I something more…
I shook my head. Time to return to reality now that enemies are inside. Are they enemies?
Isabella was in front of me. Her blue irises fixed on me. Her wand gripped so tightly I could hear the bone about to break.
I pulled back, sinking involuntarily in the softness surrounding my head and the low growl from the other girl looking at me intensified.
Oh, for the Gods' sake…