Sylvana stood by the window and smoked.
Nox saw this when he came down to the kitchen. He stopped on the last step. In all the days they had lived in this house, he had never once seen her with a cigarette. She held it strangely, not like the smokers in Ravnes who pinched the butt between thumb and forefinger and dragged greedily, as if afraid it would be taken away. Sylvana held the cigarette lightly, almost carelessly, between her middle and ring fingers, and the smoke rose from it in a thin silvery thread, twisting in the air into shapes that should not exist.
She did not turn around when he entered. She just said:
«Sit down. This will be a long conversation.»
Nox sat down. The chair creaked beneath him, and the sound seemed deafeningly loud in the morning silence of the kitchen. Outside, the sky was just beginning to turn gray. The middle tier was still asleep, only somewhere in the distance the first magic train hummed, heading east toward the coast.
Sylvana took a drag. She exhaled the smoke through the slightly open window. She turned to him.
No hat. No gloves. Her silver hair was loose, falling over her shoulders in a heavy wave. Her violet eyes looked straight at him, without that usual half smile, without coldness, without anything extra. Just looking. And in that gaze, there was something Nox had not seen before. Not fatigue. Not anger. Something else.
«How old are you,» he asked.
She raised an eyebrow. Slowly. With the expression of someone looking at a person who had asked an unexpected question.
«Why do you ask?»
«Because you look young. But you speak like a person who has lived a very long time.»
Sylvana looked away. She looked at the cigarette in her hand as if just remembering it. She took another drag. She exhaled.
«I am one hundred and forty three years old,» she said evenly.
Nox blinked. Once.
«One hundred and forty three,» he repeated.
«Yes.»
«You look thirty.»
«Blood magic,» she said simply. «It slows aging. It does not stop it. Just slows it. Those who wield Blood at a high level live long. Very long. If they are not killed sooner.»
She stubbed out the cigarette on the edge of an ashtray that stood on the windowsill. Nox only now noticed that ashtray, small, stone, with symbols carved along its edge that glowed faintly when the ash touched them.
«One hundred and forty three years,» he said again. «And you are helping me. Why?»
Sylvana sat down across from him. She folded her hands on the table. She looked at him with a long gaze that suddenly made Nox want to look away. He did not.
«Because I made a promise to your father,» she said.
The kitchen grew quiet. So quiet that Nox could hear a mouse scratching somewhere in the wall, water dripping from the tap, the wind stirring a curtain he had not even noticed before.
«You knew him,» Nox said. Not a question. Just stating what he had already understood.
«I did.» Sylvana looked away. She stared somewhere to the side, at the wall, at the bookshelf, at anything but him. «We were not friends in the way you think. But we were… allies. Once, he helped me with something. A very dangerous matter. I owed him my life, and he knew it.»
«What was the matter?»
«It does not matter now.» She shook her head. «What matters is that he knew he would die. He knew his bloodline would perish. And before it all happened, he came to me. He said: "Sylvana, I am not asking you to save me. I cannot be saved. But my children… they will survive. I know this. I feel it. Find them. Hide them. Help them."»
She fell silent. Nox could see her fingers tighten slightly on the table, her knuckles whitening.
«I was too late,» she said quietly. «I searched for you for many years. Too many. The Moon Goddess hid your tracks well. I found you only after you had already grown up in the slums, after you had already received Shadow, after it had all already begun.» She raised her gaze. «I am sorry for that.»
Nox was silent.
He looked at her and thought about how this woman, one hundred and forty three years old, one of the most powerful witches in this world, was sitting before him asking forgiveness for not finding him sooner. For him living in the slums. For him going hungry. For him getting scars.
Something hot rose in his chest. Not anger. Something else.
«You found us,» he said finally. «That is enough.»
Sylvana looked at him. Something flickered in her violet eyes, fast, like a spark.
«Your father would have been proud of you,» she said.
Nox looked away. He stared out the window. There, beyond the glass, the sky was beginning to brighten, and the moon, pale and almost transparent, still hung over the rooftops, unwilling to leave.
«Tell me about him,» he said. «Not that he was a duke. Not about his magic. About him. What kind of person he was.»
Sylvana was silent for a long time. Then she stood up, walked to the window, leaned on the sill. She looked out at the street.
«He was stubborn,» she said finally. «Insanely stubborn. If he decided something, no one could change his mind. No one. Not me, not your mother, not the gods.» She smiled faintly. «He laughed loudly. So loudly that the walls trembled. And he loved your mother the way you love only once in a lifetime. Without looking back. Without fear. Without "what if." He just loved.»
Nox listened. He did not interrupt.
«He had large hands,» he said quietly. «With calluses. I remember them. I remember nothing else. Just the hands.»
«He worked them hard,» Sylvana said. «Despite his title, he was not afraid of work. He used to say that a duke who cannot wield a sword and a plow is worthy of neither.»
«He was strong.»
«Very.»
Nox was silent for a moment. Then he asked:
«And Mother? What was her power?»
Sylvana turned around. She looked at him with an expression he could not decipher.
«Your mother was a bearer of the Abyss,» she said.
Nox felt something inside him freeze.
«The Abyss,» he repeated. «Lin…»
«Yes. Your sister inherited her mother's power. The Abyss is not just magic. It is the absence of everything. The void that existed before the gods created the world. Your mother could open passages into nothing. She could erase matter, memory, even time if she wished. The gods feared her. Especially the Moon Goddess.»
«Why?»
«Because the Abyss is stronger than the Moon. The Moon reflects light. The Abyss absorbs it. Completely.» Sylvana returned to the table. She sat down. «The Moon Goddess cursed your bloodline not only because of your father. She was afraid that you would inherit both powers. Shadow and the Abyss. Together they…» She shook her head. «I do not even know what to call it. No one knows. Such a hybrid has never existed.»
«But we inherited them,» Nox said. «I have Shadow. Lin has the Abyss.»
«Yes.»
«And what does that mean?»
Sylvana looked at him directly.
«It means the Moon Goddess will hunt both of you for the rest of your days. Or until the end of hers.»
Nox held her gaze. He did not look away.
«Let her hunt,» he said. «Nox is not afraid.»
«Nox,» Sylvana said with emphasis, «should be afraid. Fear is not weakness. Fear is what keeps you alive. Your father was afraid. Your mother was afraid. But they acted despite the fear. That is what matters.»
Nox fell silent. He thought.
«Tell me about the witches,» he said finally. «You said you are one of seven. What does that mean?»
Sylvana leaned back in her chair. She picked up a new cigarette from the table, twirled it in her fingers, but did not light it.
«There are many mages in this world,» she began. «Strong, weak, brilliant, talentless. But there are those who stand apart. We are called the Seven Strongest Witches. It is not a title that is given. It is… recognition. Those who know, simply know. I am known throughout Ennarch. From Greymont to Varkrath, from the flying cities to the underground dwarven fortresses. When I enter a city, no one questions me. When I ask for something, they give it. When I threaten, they believe me.»
«Why?»
«Because I have survived three wars. Because I have killed more demons than you have seen people in your entire life. Because I wield Blood at a level that most mages cannot even imagine.» She looked at her hand, at the venous network pulsing beneath her skin. «Blood is not just magic. It is life. Whoever wields Blood wields life. Their own. Another's. Anyone's.»
«And the other six?»
«You will meet them. Or you will not. They do not seek fame. Some of them live so far away that even I do not know where they are now.» She smiled faintly. «One of them, they say, has been sleeping at the bottom of the ocean for three hundred years. Another rules a small kingdom somewhere in the mountains of Valgard, and no one knows that the queen is a witch. The third…» She fell silent. «But that is not important now.»
«Why are you telling me this?»
«Because you need to understand what world you live in.» Sylvana leaned forward. «This world, Nox, does not forgive weakness. Only the strongest survive. The weak become refuse. Worthless. Those who are thrown to the side and forgotten. Your family was strong. Very strong. That is why they lived at the top. That is why they were feared. That is why they were killed.» She looked at him without looking away. «You have inherited their power. But power without skill is just a bomb that will explode in your hands. You have already seen this. On the roof. In the alley. Here, in this kitchen, when those men came.»
Nox touched the scars on his face. Automatically. Without noticing.
«Therefore,» Sylvana continued, «before sending you to the academy, I am going to torture you.»
He looked up.
«What do you mean, torture?»
«Exactly what I said.» She stood up. She walked to the cupboard, took out a small pouch, and tossed it onto the table. The pouch clinked metallically. «Every day. From morning until night. I will break you until only what cannot be broken remains. You will fall. Get up. Fall again. And get up again. You will hate me. That is normal. I do not ask for love. I ask only one thing: do not give up.»
Nox looked at the pouch. Then at her.
«I do not give up,» he said. «I never have.»
«I know.» She smiled slightly, for the first time all morning. «That is why I am helping you. Your father was the same.»
She sat down again. She finally lit the cigarette. She took a drag. She exhaled the smoke to the side.
«Now listen carefully,» she said. «What I am about to say is important. Perhaps more important than anything you have heard before.»
Nox leaned forward.
«Your sister,» Sylvana said. «Lin. Her power, the Abyss, will grow. Fast. Very fast. I saw this with your mother. The Abyss cannot be contained, only directed. If Lin learns to control it, she will become…» She shook her head. «I do not even know what to compare it to. Possibly stronger than me. Possibly stronger than all seven witches combined.»
Nox was silent.
«You think you need to protect her,» Sylvana continued. «That is normal. You are her older brother. You love her. But I am going to tell you something you may not want to hear.»
She looked him straight in the eye.
«In the future, you will not be the one protecting her. She will be protecting you.»
Nox opened his mouth. He closed it.
«That does not mean you are weak,» Sylvana said quickly. «No. You are a Shadow bearer. The rarest magic in this world. You will be strong. Very strong. Possibly the strongest Shadow bearer in centuries. But the Abyss… the Abyss is different. It is not power. It is the absence of everything, including the limits of power. Do you understand?»
«I understand,» Nox said slowly. «But I will still protect her. Even if she becomes stronger. That does not matter.»
Sylvana looked at him for a long time. Then she nodded.
«Good,» she said. «That is the right answer.»
She stubbed out the cigarette.
«Now about you. Your power, Shadow, is rare. Very rare. In this world right now, there are perhaps three or four Shadow bearers. Maybe fewer. You are one of them. That makes you valuable. And dangerous. You will be hunted. They will try to use you. Kill you. Recruit you. Buy you. You must be ready for that.»
«I am ready.»
«No, you are not.» She shook her head. «But you will be. After a month of my training, you will be.»
Nox looked at the pouch on the table.
«What is in there?»
«See for yourself.»
He untied the pouch. Inside lay four objects. A small leather bracelet with dark stones. A thin chain with a pendant in the shape of an eye. A pair of rings made of black metal. And something like a hairpin, also black, with sharp edges.
«What are these?»
«Artifacts,» Sylvana said. «Not very powerful, but useful. The bracelet will help hide your aura. Not as well as the ring I will give you later, but it will do for now. The eye chain will warn you if you are being followed. The rings will strengthen your hands in combat. And the hairpin…» She smiled faintly. «That is for emergencies. If you press it to your skin and break it, it will release a cloud of shadow smoke. It will help you escape.»
Nox looked at the artifacts. Then at her.
«Why are you giving these to me?»
«Because tomorrow we start training. And you will need them.»
She stood up. She walked to the window. She opened it wider, letting in the morning air, cool and smelling of smoke from distant factories.
«Now go,» she said. «Wake your sister. Have breakfast. You have one quiet day. Tomorrow, hell begins.»
Nox stood up. He walked toward the stairs. He stopped at the door.
«Sylvana,» he said.
«What?»
«Thank you.»
She did not turn around. But he saw her shoulders tremble slightly.
«Do not thank me, Nox,» she said quietly. «I am not doing this for thanks. I am doing this because I must. Because I promised. And because…»
She fell silent.
«What?» he asked.
«Because I am a witch who is searching for her own path,» she said finally. «And perhaps, by helping you, I will find it.»
Nox stood for a second. Then he nodded, though she could not see it, and went upstairs.
Lin was already awake. She sat on the bed, looking at him with her gray eyes, which in the morning light seemed almost transparent. Her light hair was disheveled, the blanket bunched at her feet.
«I heard everything,» she said.
«I know.»
«About Mother. About the Abyss. About how I might become stronger than you.»
Nox sat down beside her. He was silent for a moment.
«Does that scare you?» he asked.
Lin thought about it. She shook her head.
«No,» she said. «Do you know why?»
«Why?»
«Because if I become strong, I will be able to protect you.» She looked at him seriously, like an adult. «You have always protected me. In the slums. From the mutant. From those men who came here. You have always been in front. Now it is my turn.»
Nox felt something tighten in his throat.
«Lin,» he said.
«What?»
«You are already strong. You have always been strong. You did not cry when it hurt. You did not complain when you were hungry. You held my hand when I was nearly dead.» He looked at her. «You already protect me. Every day. Just by being you.»
Lin blinked. Once. Then she moved closer to him and hugged him. Tightly. As tightly as she could.
Nox hugged her back.
Outside the window, the sun finally rose above the rooftops, and the moon, pale and defeated, disappeared into the morning light.
A new day was beginning.
Tomorrow, hell would begin.
But today, they had one quiet day. One day just to be together. Brother and sister. As always.