Ana's Story - CHAPTERS 1-4

Chapter 1     Chapter 2     Chapter 3     Chapter 4

~ Part 1~

SECRETS & CONFESSIONS

CHAPTER 1

With a swift kick of a pommel blow to the bandit’s chest and a knee to the groin, I turned and focused my attention on the last of the straggling holdouts. He had, rather stupidly, refused to follow common sense and abandon the plan to attempt to take on the innocent Mages at their campfire. With a focused energy-force power, I raised the last one high and executed a Magika body-slam into the ground, ensuring he would not be returning to try and kill me again. 

      The one behind me took his opportunity whilst I was distracted and slashed me across my side; luckily, I had turned just quickly enough for him not to perforate my lungs with his sword. Unfortunately for him, he was still rather reeling from the blow to his chest and was not able to react quickly enough to avoid my own blade, which sliced right through him.

The bandit fell to the ground only a moment before I did. Clutching my side as I lay on the grass, I winced greatly and gasped desperately from the awful deep, sharp burning sensation of pain that roped throughout my being, exploding my brain and making it difficult to breathe. It wasn’t the first time I had been hurt, and if these attacks continued, it would not be the last. But they did not get any easier with practice, and this one was pretty bad.

      Blood seeped through my fingers. Warm and sticky, it streamed steadily, slowly taking away my ability to breathe. I kept trying to press down my hand to it, but I found my grip weakening. In that moment, it was difficult to fathom all this was over a supposedly quick and easy slaying to steal money and trinkets. This was no battle or war; it was simply bandits preying on weak victims for extra gold.

      For some reason, loot-hungry bandits had somehow got it into their heads that Mages were easy pray – I imagined it was because some Mages were only Healers and refused to fight in any capacity. They had attacked us this night as we lay around a campfire outside the Coven, and I assumed they had hoped to slay us easily and quietly and loot our things. Those of them who still lived had ran; those not so fortunate in their sense now lay dead. I had no feeling about that. It was their choice to try to kill me – I had every right not to be murdered in my sleep.

      I heard a noise behind me. I grasped my blades again and went to turn, but then I heard a welcome voice that made me put them back down and sigh in relief.

      “Ana!”

      L’eiito, my closest friend, biggest critic, and exceptional fighting partner, sharply spun and slit the throat of one last straggler heading straight for me, expressionless in his cold and efficient execution of the act. The fool bandit hadn’t even seen it coming; L’eiito had snuck up and dispatched him with chilling fluidity, saving me from whatever fate might have befallen me.

      The body was flung unceremoniously to the ground as he hurried to my side, his hand held out to me. Grasping my arm, he pulled me to my feet and carefully wound his arm around me to help carry me back to the Coven. I slung my arm around his neck and hobbled along with his help, pressing my other hand down on the relentlessly bleeding wound.

      “Can you explain how it is that I always find myself having to carry your unfortunate self back home on each occasion these people attack?” L’eiito remarked dryly. “It seems to be a most unfortunate habit that you have.”

      His eyes held concern, but he most assuredly otherwise wouldn’t show it. Either solemn and serious, or sarcastic and broody, L’eiito Ara’laan did not generally show emotion openly. Carefully spoken and always guarded, he at all times had himself under extremely complete control. From his tone of voice, his choice of words, his emotions, his fighting technique in swordsmanship and Magika, and even his own physique – everything was carefully crafted, precise, and exact, making him appear so strong, solid, aloof, imposing, enigmatic, dangerous, and cold.

      However, over the past three and a half years I had known him, I had long ago learned his tones, expressions and behaviour, and by now I had a fairly good idea what he really meant underneath his gruff exterior. I knew that he was secretly worried... and with what I could feel under my fingers, it appeared to be more than warranted this time.

      “Is it of any wonder, when you abandon me so readily to go and fight someone over on the other side of the camp?” I rebuked grumpily. “It’s not like I invited them in and lay down, so they could swipe me in the side.”

      L’eiito shook his head and sighed. “You must become far more adept at using your Magika again. At least that way you may keep them far enough away, so they cannot do this again. If you continue in this way, Saebastiia’an will refuse to heal you unless you pay him.”

      I rolled my eyes. That sounded just like something that the sweetly-charming, consistently teasing Saebastiia’an Dae’Carrisson would do. A very powerful Mage and perfect Healer, Saebastiia’an had the ability to break hearts as easily as he healed them up. Luckily, he was exceptionally good at healing them – well, physically, at least.

      The man was charismatic and charming, confident, rather egotistical and easy going, as well utterly sunning to look at, an incorrigible flirt, and an infamous womaniser. I thought him adorable and enjoyed his teasing and light flirting. I had been naive when I first came to the Coven, uncomfortable with the level of flirtatious attention I received from him. It had taken some time for me to realise it was nothing but harmless fun for him to do so. Now he was closer to me than a brother and loved me as much as any brother could. Hence, I could easily believe he would try a ploy of bribery and make me pay him if I kept this up.

      “Casapiia’an wouldn’t let him do it,” I retorted with a wince at the pain, mentioning Saebastiia’an’s (two minutes – and don’t you forget it!) older and much wiser twin brother.

      L’eiito smirked darkly and tried getting a better grip on me. I was jolted when his hand slipped on the blood that was still spilling from my wound, feeling it brushing over the severely injured area as he did so. I let out a yelp.

      “Will you watch what you’re doing!”

      “Shall I drop you to the floor?”

      I scowled as struggled along next to him, pouting. “No.”

      “I thought as much. Please desist with your complaining when I am trying to help.”

      L’eiito carefully carried me back to the Coven. After walking a very short distance, my legs gave way, leaving me unable to walk any further. Blood was still flowing freely from my side and I was barely conscious, struggling to even able to keep breathing from the pain. He scooped me up as if I were nothing and carried me the rest of the way, my head pressed heavily against his, my arms barely able to hold on about his neck as he pressed me tightly against him to stop me from falling.

      The comfort of having him care for me and ensure my safety kept my will strong enough to make it to the Coven, where I could be saved. It was also lucky the Coven was close by. It was well-hidden; found through the entrance of a cave in the forest. Stone steps descended from the cave entrance into the Coven itself, which opened into an enormously vast and sprawling underground building where Mages learned to use, perfect, and expand on their powerful Magika gifts. This was my sanctuary and salvation.

      It was as true now, as we entered this time, as it had been when I first went in. The Coven was a world of training for all Mages who wished to – or had to – live away from the general population of Earra’al, a Northern District of the Kingdom of Narayya’an that we lived in. It was a place to live, breathe and learn Magika from the High Sorceress and best Mages the kingdom, where we could properly learn to train in our craft and use it for the greater good. We all had different stories, different reasons for being here, different Magika gifts and specialties. But we all had this one thing in common, and it was something the normal, non-Magika humans would never understand. It was also a gift that was now about to save my life.

      Saebastiia’an Dae’Carrisson was located where he always was – lying on a long couch in the extensive library. This was so he could continue with his infamous reputation of being the pretty, charming and intelligent assistant to any damsel Mage in distress, whilst trying to also researching for more insight and further knowledge on the Archane Arts of Magika.

      An exceptionally skilled and smouldering flirt, the man was unrealistically beautiful with the most incredible eyes and was entirely incorrigible when it came to appropriate the attention of any and every female that took his eye – and using this skill whenever he required something from just about anyone, regardless of gender. So far, as far as I have ascertained, I have apparently been the only female to be immune and amused by it, whereas it seemed to inevitably turn most into blushing and quivering puddles of mush instead, much to my own exasperation with them. It did absolutely nothing to help control that immense ego constantly growing in his head.

      The man in question was usually found with a book lying on his chest, fingertips on his head and his eyes closed, as if pondering some great mystery that he had found. All he was really doing was avoiding work and sleeping, although he would without fail jump up and run to the clinic if anyone came in who required healing. Just never expect him to do the paperwork to go along with it.

      Without doubt, he was the most powerful Healer at the Coven, and was possibly One of the most powerful  in  all Narayya’an – even Faeh’rron – Saebastiia’an was a vital part of this Coven, refusing to leave to work in one of the medical healing clinics of Earra’al simply because he knew he would be letting us down. This evening, I was glad this had been his stance. By the time L’eiito carried me to him, the pain was excruciating, and I had lost enough blood to leave me far too close to death to be comforting.

      Saebastiia’an looked up as L’eiito strode towards him and immediately sat bolt-upright. Concern immediately etched onto his beautiful face, and he bounced right up and came to help get me to the sofa he had been sat on. They both lay me on my back and I stared at the extensively beautiful fresco on the twenty-foot high ceiling, while Saebastiia’an quickly opened up my belt and pulled up my tunic and bodice to expose my wound, still streaming blood from my side.

      “Divinities, Ana... How do you get yourself into these scrapes?” he chastised in a grave whisper. I heard blood spilling to the tiled floor with quick, sharp drips as I tried to keep focusing on that fresco. “This is deep. Extremely deep... Far too deep... and what – five, six inches long? You are lucky to be still conscious, let alone alive.”

      He placed his hands on my bare side, covering my wound, taking a breath to start the process without even bothering to take me to the clinic first. Immediately, the familiar tingle of his touch travelled across my body, and I slowly started to lose consciousness. Within moments I was in a Healing trance; a stasis where the Healer’s power could work in mending what was wrong and return everything back to what it was before. This could last for minutes, hours, or days, and I would not know which until I woke up again. If I woke up again.

      That was when it all finally went dark.

CHAPTER 2

The first thing I saw when I next opened my eyes was L’eiito. I expected nothing else – he barely ever left my side, especially when I was injured and had undergone the Healing. We had been closer than close since the day we met, and he was always there when I woke up from being healed. As always, when he noticed I had opened my eyes, he gave an almost imperceptible half-smile and looked a little relieved.

      “My lady awakes,” he said softly. “I hope you are faring better now.”

      He ran his hands back through unusually ruffled shoulder-length black hair. I vaguely noticed it was uncharacteristically loose, falling across his face and eyes. His loose white shirt was creased and open several laces, and he was without his usual black leather jerkin over the top. He looked like he had been here for quite some time.

      “How long?” was all I asked.  It was the first thing I always asked.

      “Two days.” L’eiito shrugged, attempting nonchalance. “It has not been too long.”

      I frowned weakly. “That bad?”

      “You were cut deeply... lost a lot of blood. Saebastiia’an is still recovering from the Healing himself – his Magika and his own health were entirely drained to restore you.” L’eiito’s deep, dark brown eyes bored sternly into mine, framed by soft, black eyelashes that intensified just how unusually dark they appeared. “I suggest you become more adept at fighting.”

      “I used to be better than I am.” I closed my eyes as the room began spinning, despite having not moved and remaining perfectly still, laid back on my pillows in the infirmary. “I think I have become out of practice.”

      “I cannot disagree... You have become most distracted in the last few weeks, since your cousin came to find you.”

      I glanced at him for a moment before turning my head and silently looking away. I hated being reminded that I was constantly lying to my best friend.

      “I still wish she hadn’t done that,” I told him quietly. “I’m better off without my family.”

      L’eiito leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his lap, his expression grim and serious at my words. “Any family is better than none, Ana. How can you wish away the one family member willing to come and find you?”

      “Because I never, ever wanted them to.”

      Sighing sadly, I wondered why he kept pressing this issue. L’eiito and I had first bonded over the fact we were both without family. He had told me early on that he had lost his family, had grown up on the streets and struggled to survive day to day. By chance, not long before I came to it, he had been brought to the Coven for sanctuary. He had no one but the Coven – his family was now here, and this was the only real home he’d ever had.

      I knew little of any life he had prior to living on the streets, predominantly because he remembered little of it himself. What he had told me was that he remembered living with people who embraced his Magika powers and predominantly spoke in the Old Language, the Language of the Ancients – the original language of Mages. It was a beautiful language that had not been used for many Ages and it was rare for it to be fluently and constantly spoken now, but L’eiito had kept it up and quite often slipped back into what was presumably his own mother-tongue. It was usually a beautiful thing to hear, especially with his low and sultry voice – although most of what was thrown at me was usually either expletives or their close relatives, grumbled out in exasperation at something or other I had done. Or not done.

      Sadly, this language was the only connection he had ever had to whomever he was before. He told me he had been left alone to fend for himself in Khaer’ystell and simply became a street urchin, struggling as a homeless pauper until he was found by the Coven when he was a grown man. My life, in comparison, was such a stark contrast it was humbling. In fact, I had never been able to bring myself to quite tell him the whole truth about it. I was an orphan, that much was true. I was fifteen when my parents were killed in what could only be described as a very questionable… accident. It was then that I was taken in by my mother’s brother and his family. My aunt and uncle raised me as their own – even formally adopted me – but I did not appreciate the life or home they provided. Unable to overcome my grief for my parents, I ran away a few years later. I was a Mage and an orphan… and I did not know what to think or do about it. After spending quite some time roaming about, I came to the Coven and I found a new family. Then, quite suddenly, my old one came looking and found me. 

      Perhaps I might not have been so quick to abscond from home if Mages were given the respect – the reverence – they deserved. But they were no longer “in fashion” with the Nobility, thus Mages were generally shunned by the very humans that they had been brought to Faeh’rron  to protect. Somehow, over the last century or so, it had become to be seen an unsightly and unwelcome faux-pas in this kingdom, an unfortunate twist of nature, a birth defect best kept a secret. Something to be highly ashamed of. Mage children in Narayya’an were given away to Covens at a very early age, subsequently ignored and disowned by the family who had just left them there.

      My family has not been so – they had embraced me for everything I was. Yet, I still ran away from them. I wasn’t really allowed to be publicly acknowledged as a Mage and I resented the fact. I also wasn’t willing to accept how lucky I was they wanted me regardless – given my parents had been killed, I felt I was not lucky at all. But then I met L’eiito and realised how much worse it could have been.

      Two weeks ago, I had been found by my cousin, and my adopted sister, En’nii. She was the same age as me, the only daughter of my aunt and uncle. Once, she had even once been my best friend. Somehow, she had managed to track me down, and I was suddenly faced with a past, a family, and a secret I had never wanted to acknowledge again. Every day En’nii was back in my life, the more likely the danger it was going to be found out, and I did not want to see my friends’ reactions or bear the consequences of them discovering it. More than anything, they were going to be very upset I had kept my secret from them in the first place.

        I sighed and looked back at L’eiito, wondering what he would make of me if he knew. I decided it was best not thinking about it and hope that I never had to find out.

      “You should rest now.” L’eiito leaned forward, reached out and squeezed my hand warmly. “En’nii is on her way. We thought that she ought to know what happened.”

      I paled more than I already was. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

      “Saebastiia’an insisted. Although I suspect it is because he wished to see her, rather than from any inclination to do the right thing.”

      I shook my head and rolled my eyes. Once En’nii knew, my aunt and uncle would know, and then they would worry. I hated thinking of them worrying. They could use it as leverage to order me back. Unfortunately, Saebastiia’an had quite clearly set his sights on my beautiful cousin and always made every effort to be in her company if he could, which also seemed included worrying her for no real reason – as well as jeopardising my freedom to remain here at the Coven.

      It was at that moment there was a knock on the door. L’eiito let go of my hand and called for whoever it was to come in. Saebastiia’an and En’nii entered and I wished I could crawl under my bed and hide. I really didn’t want to see her.

      “Hello, beautiful,” Saebastiia’an smiled at me with clear relief and care, coming towards me and kissing me on gently my forehead. He pressed his palm to my cheek and leaned his forehead on mine for a moment. “I’m glad to see you’re finally awake.”

      “Yes, thanks to you,” I replied warmly, taking his hand. I noticed he still looked ill and weak himself from carrying out the Healing, and the long, black Mage’s cassock he wore looked a little loose on him.

      “Just so you know I accept food, cakes, and precious gems as payment.” Saebastiia’an grinned at me before moving back, squeezing my hand before letting it go. He patted L’eiito firmly on the shoulder and moved out of the way for En’nii to come to see me.

      “What are you doing to yourself, Ana?” she said softly, shaking her head and putting her hand on my shoulder. Her pretty, yet plain, floor-length dress looked well-worn and slept in, and was unravelling on one of the sleeves, where she had clearly been pulling at the frilled cuffs of the chemise beneath, loosening the threads in anxiety. “How is this a better life for you than being home?”

      I looked back at her earnest face and I had to turn away. Sighing, I stared off at a far wall and did not answer for a while.

      “At least it is my life,” I said quietly. “It was not chosen for me by anyone else.”

      I noticed Saebastiia’an and L’eiito look exchange slipping out. I was left alone with my cousin, adopted sister, and former best friend. En’nii sat in the chair L’eiito had vacated and leaned back, pushing back her long, pale blonde hair and staring at me with those piercing green eyes that could never quite decide whether they wanted to be lighter, brilliant emerald or deep, darker jade.

      “Are you always going to run away from your family?” she heatedly berated. “Is it really so bad, you willingly risk your life every day you remain here? You very nearly died, Ana!”

      I scowled heatedly – this was not what I needed after coming out of a two-day coma. Certainly not from someone I had deliberately spent the better part of a decade hiding away from. “And yet, you think it is fine for the other people here to live this way? You are not lecturing them.”

      En’nii sighed. Lowering and calming her tone, she shook her head despondently. “I did not mean that, and you know it very well. It’s just that they are not my sister. The sister I want brought home.”

      “It wasn’t home. It stopped being home without my own parents there to make it so.”

      “Your family didn’t abandon you, so why did you abandon us?”

      I looked away. “I wanted more than looking like a doll and pretending that I wasn’t a Mage.”

      “Ana, we didn’t…” En’nii sighed more and rubbed at her forehead dejectedly. “That was not what we wanted from you. And despite that is what you claim, even now you are still pretending to be something you are not. You might be a Mage here, Ana, but you are still denying part of who you are – still pretending you are someone you’re not! They do not even know, and they’re supposed to be your friends.” She indicated the door, meaning Saebastiia’an and L’eiito. “I would have assumed you at least would have told L’eiito, of all people.”

      I squeezed my eyes shut. I hadn’t wanted anyone to know – I hadn’t wanted to be judged. I hadn’t wanted to even remember about it. A they became my friends, and then family over time, it then became too late to admit the truth. The fact I hadn’t told my best friend – the person I told everything else to – weighed on me the most.

      “It’s too late now,” I said softly. “They don’t need to know either, because I’m not going back.”

      There was another knock on the door. This time it was Casapiia’an Dae’Carrison, Saebastiia’an’s twin and absolute mirror image. He was the head of the clinic and infirmary, and the one to obey regarding the strict rules of recovery in here. He had come to shoo out my visitor, so I could rest. With one look at him, En’nii rose and left without another word.

      Casapiia’an watched her leave before coming over to me. He put his hand on my brow to check for fever and made me have more water.

      “What is it about her that makes you so upset?” he asked kindly. “You are never happy when she is around.”

      I looked up at him, that same ethereally beautiful face and same mesmerising turquoise eyes as his brother, and I wished dearly I could tell someone about what really troubled me, but I could not. Despite his kind, soft eyes and understanding smile, I could not tell him - nor a single other person. Not even the most trustworthy non-judgmental person in the entire world, which is precisely what Casapiia'an was.

      Instead of really explaining, I released a long sigh. “There is a reason I ran away, and because of that I do not wish to go back. Naturally, that is precisely what she wants me to do.”

      “I can understand...” Casapiia’an sat on the edge of the bed and took my hand with care. He looked at me with sympathy. “I think I would feel the same way if anyone from my old home came to try and convince me to return, too.”

      I nodded in understanding. Saebastiia’an and Casapiia’an Dae’Carrisson were the youngest twin sons of a prominent aristocratic house of Earra’al, given away at a very young age to the Coven because they were not welcome in their own family. The Nobility of Narayya’an did not look kindly on Magika anymore, and many children were quickly given away as soon as their Magika showed. Their father was just such a man.

      “Unfortunately, our father was only interested in his wealth and standing and keeping up appearances at the Royal Court than being a true father,” Casapiia’an said quietly. “He was a Noble Lord with an heir, and we were nothing but an embarrassing inconvenience. I don’t think anything would convince me to return.”

      “I was never rejected for being a Mage,” I admitted. “Although I was... encouraged to keep it to myself. I quickly became tired of living that lie.”

       “We are all glad you are here, Ana.” Casapiia’an then smiled slyly. “Some more than others, I expect.”

      I raised an amused eyebrow. “Oh? Who would be those ‘some’ then? I dearly hope you’re not referring to your brother...”

      Casapiia’an chuckled lightly at the smart quip. “My brother loves you deeply, in his own strange way, which is nothing of that sort – as you are well aware, sugar.” He brushed hair from my face and took my hand, squeezing it warmly. “We both know his dedicated flirting and teasing shows the extent of his deeply unwavering affection for you, and you always shall be his one and only love of that kind.”

      “I am intrigued to know if it is you who you speak of, then,” I teased him in return. “Not you, surely!”

      I received a snort and a wry laugh for my mocking. Casapiia’an’s affection for me was exactly the same as Seb’s and I knew perfectly well it wasn’t him either. He then cocked his head to one side and gave a me a piercing stare with those same familiar aquamarine eyes as his brother. Same eyes, same stare.

      “Amusing. You know precisely who I mean.”

       I did know. But... I really didn’t want to admit it. Casapiia’an shook his head at my silence.

      “It has already been more than three years. I do not understand why you keep this to yourself and make nothing more of it.” He cocked his head questioningly, eyebrows raised as if expecting an actual answer. None was forthcoming, so he went on. “You two are closer than any of us are, and it’s quite clear that both of you think very highly of each other and share a unique bond. He didn’t leave you for a moment from the second Saebastiia’an healed you – he point-blank refused to and sat in that chair for two days straight. His affection for you and dedication is admirable.”

      I smiled a little at the thought of L’eiito. He infuriated me, baffled me, and made me feel like I belonged here. I didn’t think I could expect anything more from him, though. We were very close – best friends – but I was fairly certain that was where it also ended, and the line was drawn.

      Casapiia’an didn’t press it issue any further. Instead, he patted my arm and rose to leave. Opening the door, he was immediately faced with none other than L’eiito himself. He was about to argue that he was not to come in, but the cold glare L’eiito shot at him instantly had him shift to one side so he could pass to come and see me.

      Casapiia'an raised his eyebrows and threw me a sly wink as he left my side to allow L’eiito to take his place.

      “En’nii and Saebastiia’an seem quite happy to speak with each other again,” L’eiito said with a twitch of a half-smile, as he sat next to me on the bed. He took my hand in his and brushed hair away from my face with the other that continued to fall into my eyes. “I shall return in the morning. I hope you will be adequately rested by then.”

      “Stay,” I implored impetuously, squeezing his hand. His dark and intense eyes flickered to mine for just a moment.

      “Of course, if you so wish it.” He gently stroked the back of my hand with his thumb, his eyes lingering on our hands thoughtfully. “We nearly lost you... Please do not ever do that again.”

      I looked back at him guiltily. “I’m sorry.”

      He glanced up and those intense black eyes bore into mine sharply. “You should be.”

      I scooted over and patted the narrow space next to me. L’eiito took the offer and lay on the bed, settling himself back on the elevated pillows next to me and lacing his fingers on his stomach. His shoulder and arm pressed firmly into me as he stared up at the ceiling.

      “I didn’t thank you,” I said quietly, also staring up. “You came and was able to get me back in time. As much as I am grateful to Saebastiia’an, it was you who really saved me by getting me to him so quickly.”

      L’eiito turned his head towards me. We were nearly nose-to-nose as I turned to look back, hoping he could see in my expression how very grateful I was to him.

      “You can only imagine how thankful I am that you are now recovering, instead of being placed into the ground.” His eyes held a pained sadness to them that made me feel all the worse. “I do not have many friends – I certainly do not have enough to lose my favourite.”

      “I cannot imagine I’m your favourite anymore, if you’re so angry with me.”

      L’eiito finally smiled. It was a slight one, but a smile nonetheless. “No, you are still my favourite. No one else I know is as stubborn or fearless as you are, so willing to fight and stand up for what you believe in, or to save another. It is as if you have something to prove, but no one knows what, so we cannot appreciate what you keep fighting for.”

      “I think it’s something that runs in the family,” I said, my voice finding difficulty saying the words aloud. “My uncle is the same... My mother was, too.”

      “Whatever it is that haunts you, I wish you would put it to bed before it gets you killed. You came too close this time, Ana.”

      I said nothing, because he was right. As always, he seemed to know precisely what I was doing, what I thought, and what troubled me. However, I did not know how to put it to bed. I turned on my side and moved closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder and closing my eyes, wondering if that day would ever come.

 

 

CHAPTER 3

The next day, Casapiia’an allowed me out of the infirmary and discharged me into L’eiito’s care. I was still somewhat weak and woozy from the blood loss I had suffered, not to mention greatly affected by the side effects of Healing Magika. Most people didn’t suffer from them, but, unfortunately, I was one of the few rare cases who did so, and I always felt awful afterwards.

      L’eiito escorted me back to my rooms in the Coven, my arm through his as he helped me up there. As we reached the stairs to go up, I felt a cold chill as I looked up and saw a familiar figure walking down towards us. It was the last person I had wanted to see today.

      L’aena’s flowing, fluid movement, long and lean figure, perfect raven hair, porcelain skin and coldly clear amber eyes had turned most Mages in the Coven to mush the moment they entered into her vicinity, regardless of love-preference. I seemed to be only one of very few who wasn’t completely spellbound by her – in fact, I resented her cool, manipulative and obviously flirtatious behaviour towards everyone. I especially disliked how she gave particular attention to L’eiito, who was specifically targeted whenever I was around.

      “Hello, handsome,” she purred, sashaying down the steps towards us. She stopped next to L’eiito and brushed her fingers down his arm, offering me the briefest of glances as she did so. “I have been meaning to say I am so very glad to hear that you all managed to escape the bandit attack unscathed. It is strange they all believe it a profitable thing to attack Mage camps, and so close to the Coven, too.”

      “We did not all get away unscathed,” L’eiito replied pointedly. “We did, however, all escape from the ambush alive, which is certainly fortunate.”

      Another cool glance was sent my way. I gritted my teeth and clenched my hand, unthinkingly digging my fingers into L’eiito’s arm as I did so.

      “I must escort Ana to her rooms for her to rest.” L’eiito glanced at me, mildly raising an eyebrow at my reaction. “Please excuse us.”

      The cold gaze in L’aena’s eyes froze for a moment in displeasure, but she immediately turned it into a disingenuous smile.

      “Of course.” Her eyes lingered in him, as did her hand. “I shall see you around, L’eiito.”

      She slid herself past him, ensuring she brushed right up against him as she did so. Her snugly-fitted long Mage’s dress flowed and swayed as she sashayed on her way to wherever she was heading.

      “Subtle,” I muttered grumpily, watching her go. L’eiito turned back to me questioningly. “Oh, please tell me you didn’t fall for that nauseating charade of niceness and flirtation?”

      L’eiito gave an amused chuckle. “I am not quite so naive as that, Ana. I would have hoped you would have a higher opinion of me and not believe I could be taken in by such... posturing.”

      We slowly started back up the stairs.

      “You always seem to be quite enraptured by her.”

      L’eiito gave another low chuckle. “I am hardly enraptured by such unabashed attempts at seduction. It is always preferable to be polite, even to people like her. It is unfortunate that there are some who do think her genuinely pleasant company... Of course, perhaps she is perfectly pleasant towards them.”

      “I find that difficult to believe – that you aren’t actually enamoured by all her purring.”

      “I cannot imagine any reason how that could be so. I am hardly about to be duped by such obvious and obsequious behaviour.”

      “Intriguing... I’m amazed your intelligence is that high.”

      I received a mock-glare and a sharp elbow in my side. I laughed at him and he pretended to pout as he took me to the top of the stairs and along the long walk to my rooms.         

      The Coven was a vast underground building, easily about as unimaginably large as an enormous castle and sprawling college combined. I had been here over three years, but was still yet to see it all, or know my way around it completely. There was enough space in the ^accommodation area for each Mage to have their own small suite of rooms, and L’eiito helped me up to mine on the first floor. I had a pretty enough bedroom with a surprisingly comfortable bed, a little ante-room that I used as a makeshift dressing room, and small alchemy practice lab for mixing all basic potions all Mages learned. It was all especially welcoming when I was still recovering from the effects of Healing Magika and I was glad to see it again.

      L’eiito unlocked the door for me and took me through to lie on my bed. He had already put my things away that I’d had back at the camp: My pack, which I wore buckled just below my waist and sat heavy on the back of my hips, carried food, a water pouch, my twin blades and sheaths, and any other little things like potions, was tucked away on the floor by my closet. Alongside it was my shoulder strap, which was just a long leather strap that I carried across my shoulder and chest, and that still held my tightly-packed bedroll and tent. My once-torn and bloodied clothes were amazingly already mended and cleaned, folded neatly on a set of draws.

      For all the ways he could be annoying, there was a reason I always thought L’eiito as my best friend.

      There was a knock on the door. L’eiito went to answer it. He returned with Saebastiia’an and En’nii in tow, looking to check on me again. Saebastiia’an came and sat on a chair he pulled up to the bed, then proceeded to check me over thoroughly. As he worked, I could just how much his beautiful features were still marred by the exhaustion of the healing process – with someone like me, who did not respond well to the Healing, it took more far effort and energy to heal and so drained the Mage completely. This time I was able to take more notice of him and I was unnerved by how ill he still looked. His usually bright blue eyes were more a dulled grey, his pallor was still very pale, and his usually light blond hair was now a harsher straw-colour and pulled back in a tie-band. He was not himself at all. I felt horribly guilty.

      He worked quickly but gently, warm hands checking the areas my wounds had been on the outside, and subsequently hovering over me, feeling inside with glowing soft, red Healing Magika to check all internal injuries were also staying healed. His expression was of pure concentration as he worked; the only time I ever saw Saebastiia’an being openly serious, and studious, devoid of mirth or teasing. He took his role and his gift immensely seriously.

      Once he was done, his eyes met mine intently for a long, lingering moment. One more time, one amongst many, I was subjected to that lingering, smouldering gaze that turned the girls into quivering wrecks, all breathless and blushing. However, this was aimed at me, knowing it made me smile or outright laugh. On this occasion I tried to outdo him by giving him my own version, but neither of us lasted too long before the façade broke and the giggles started.

      Laughing hurt, but it was so good to get it out… To feel it again. As Saebastiia’an constantly pointed out to me, when I was in recovery, dying didn’t always have to be so serious.

      Once he had calmed his laughing enough to recover, having cheered us both up, he offered a warm smile and took my hand after he had finished checking me. I squeezed it back gratefully.

      “Thank you,” I said again, with great warmth and affection. “I know it’s always very difficult to heal me, and I’m really lucky to have you around to do it.”

      “Yet, you insist upon getting yourself nearly killed at every opportunity.” He raised an eyebrow and gave a weaker than usual teasing smile. He brushed back my hair, before softly kissing my forehead with gentle, soft lips that always offered the warm comfort of familial care. “You must get better at this if you’re going to insist on continuing to be decoy bandit fodder for the Coven. With your Magika blood incompatible with the Healing power, it’s going to be continuously difficult to treat you.”

      “Why does she become so ill with the Healing?” En’nii asked him. She stood behind him, her arms wrapped around herself from uncertainty and fear, keeping her concerned gaze on me. Her long and frazzled blonde hair stood out against the rumpled plain dark brown frock and white blouse she wore, all making me feel even more guilty for putting one more person through such concern. “Is there nothing you can do to help her?”

      Saebastiia’an looked up at En’nii and shook his head wearily, as she looked down to him. “I do the best I can. But she does not just have the usual kind of Magika in her blood. We are trained for this, and trained very well I assure you. Resistance to Magika Healing is rare, but it is not unique to her, either. However... Ana is the worst level of pure outright rejection against it I have ever come across.  All we can do is do our best with her. The rest... Well, it is always up to the will of the receiver, and the Will of the Divinity A’aegiia, how they fare afterward.”

“A’aegiia?” En’nii repeated, lost. “Is that a... Mage God?”

“The Divinity A’aegiia is the Divinity of Protection. We look to them to keep us safe from harm, or at least mortal ruin. If it is Their Will, we stay alive, but only if it is our own will, too. No Mage can be saved if they do not want to be. And they can only prevent us from leaving a body that remains functional — once the body comes to the point of not being able to sustain life, The Divinities have no choice but to accept them into Eall’yysiiaem.”  Saebastiia’an shrugged. “So far we have been fortunate the Divinities have smiled so favourably on her.”

      En’nii looked down at him fearfully, with great and grave concern. “But why Ana?”

      “Ana has a rare and powerful form of Magika in her blood, where she is able to control many of the Elements, far more than Mages are supposed to be able to wield. Instead of specialising in one, at most two, in the way that most Mages do, she has control over four out of the Six Elements of Magika Mage blood has... access… to. Such a thing is almost entirely unheard of, outside of  being born High Sorceresses, and Ana is not one.”

      Saebastiia’an was very patiently attempting to explain to En’nii, a non-Mage, something that not even the most accomplished Healers of Note were truly able to understand or decipher. I had it, and even I sure in all Faeh’rron  and Nehvadi’iaa didn’t understand any of it, except it was the rarest form of Magika for a Mage who was not a High Sorceress, who were able to also wield four of the Six Elements. But, unlike me, they were born to be one of the highest forms of Mage closest to Divinity there could be. I was undoubtedly just a Mage.

      “She is capable of manipulating multiple forms and levels of very powerful Magika to a level almost unheard of,” Saebastiia’an continued to explain to her. “Ana is able to wield extremely brutal Fire power, has the ability to conjure both Lightening and Ice from the powers, can create strong Protection barriers capably, and has an Elemental Energy-Force kick I have never seen before in anyone without a single purely-dedicated specialty in it. Tellingly, she does not have access to Healing, but even stranger, this is because her Magika Powers actually resist it. This makes her resistant to the Healing because its process contra-indicates this kind of extremely potent Magika, thus the side-effects make her very ill and weak, on top of whatever is already making her ill or injured enough to require it. Until her blood recovers from having the Healing power forced into her body and blood, her body struggles until the Healing has worked. After she will be weak for several days.”

      “So… she will always suffer this?”

    Saebastiia’an looked back to me with a hard look. “Yes, unless she becomes far more adept at fighting.”

      En’nii lowered her head and shook it with despondency and concern, laying her forehead in her hand and clearly willing away tears. She had led a completely sheltered and comfortable life, had no real idea of the world outside her happy and cosseted existence. She had received an incredible shock to see what life I had undertaken after disappearing from her family’s home so many years ago, and still could not fathom why I put myself through it. She wanted to protect me, like she had when we were children, but now she could not. I had fighting immensely powerful Magika and I was usually perfect in my swordsmanship – what else was I supposed to do with myself now, except wws?

      “Come, En’nii,” Saebastiia’an said quietly, getting up and placing a hand on her shoulder. “We should leave her to rest. It will be a day or two more before she will be back to herself again.”

      L’eiito had stood to one side until they left. Then he looked back at me and fixed me with a potent stare.

      “Just so we are clear, I do not care for L’aena and her games. I tell you this for the sake of my arm.” He then gave me one of his rare, half-amused expressions of mild joviality as he came close and pulled up his sleeve to show me the marks where I had dug my nails into his otherwise perfect skin and hardened biceps there. I could clearly tell by his expression he was attempting to take my mind away from my concerns, but he unfortunately only made me think about different ones instead. “You have no need to fear I will be taken in by her entirely insincere façade – I require no protection from her, I assure you.”

      If only he knew the truth. But this was a better assumption, so I did nothing to dissuade his belief.

      “I don’t believe any man is capable of resisting her charms,” I retorted. L’eiito smiled his usual small smile of amusement at me and shook his head.

      “Let me know of you require anything further,” he offered. “I shall leave you to rest now.”

      I was about to call him to stay, but he turned and immediately left before I could. I sighed and closed my eyes, wondering just how long it would be before all this trouble and hiding blew up in my face.

CHAPTER 4

Sweeping fires and shattering ice particles lit up the Coven’s underground courtyard, falling from the hundred-foot-high roof. The powerful fighting Magika echoed almost deafeningly through the vast belly of the Coven’s cavernous space. Lightening streaked and crackled through gales of winds and thunder, and I sent fiery explosions into the black stone walls. I executed every form of possible destruction I could summon as I let go of my fury at myself through every cell of Magika in my being.

      The courtyard, usually dimly lit by Magika fire lamps on the cavern’s walls, was ablaze with fire, lightening, and the shimmering blue hues of ice. I pushed myself harder and harder in the practice ring, throwing out larger and larger fireballs, walls of ice, and explosive energy forces. My hands and arms hurt, my shoulders ached, my legs were weak. I spun and danced, twisting and spinning, aiming for imaginary foes, retracing the steps of my last fight, willing the memories of what went wrong away from my mind as I did so. I was still angry and upset with myself for what had happened. For what had gone so horribly wrong.

      I had been caught out by faltering Magika. That night I didn’t have what it took to win. I had failed. My Magika had failed me – I needed to strengthen it. I needed to get back my Mana strength, and I needed to raise it. I had been relying too much on sloppy melee attacks and not enough on the Power of  Destruction. I hadn’t been good enough and it had nearly killed me. I wasn’t about to let that happen again.

      Sweeping up my arms, I threw them swiftly down, emitting explosions of destruction all around me. Grimacing from exhaustion, I spread my arm out to create a wall of flames, then pirouetted away and spun a curved ice wall around me as I did so, landing in a firm stance and ready to defend myself from a new imaginary attack. I threw down my arms again, emitting an explosion of fire that fell from the sky. It was a large area spell directed towards creating maximum damage over the largest possible area.

      As more fire rained from the sky, I shot a zap of lightening at a practice dummy, singeing its head as it flailed on its tall post with the powerful hit. It all took so much of my energy, draining so much from me, but I carried on regardless, pushing myself harder and harder. Willing myself to continue to fight well beyond my physical limits.

      As I spun away again, I suddenly noticed a figure appear in the doorway over by the western side of the Coven. I stopped and slowly lowered my arms, turning to where the person stood as the Magika fire and ice evaporated from the air around me. I wondered momentarily if I had imagined it. My head spun. I could barely catch my breath and I was completely drained. I could very well have easily imagined random people walking about in the shadows in that state.

      The figure moved away from the cover of the shadows. It walked over towards me, slowly and deliberately taking each step in a manner I knew all too well. My damn chaperone was checking up on me again.

      I caught my breath from my tiring efforts, remaining still and entirely focused on him. He strode towards me with slow purposefulness and I could tell – quite clearly – he wasn’t happy with me. I doubted anyone would be – but then I hadn’t planned on being caught, either. That was why I was in the practice ring in the middle of the night. I wasn’t even supposed to be out of bed, since I had only been released from the infirmary that morning, let alone throwing everything I had at some the poor mannequins.

      He came towards me with a prowling gate, dark eyes fixated on my face with a deep intensity that was barely masking his immense ire with me. His purposeful stride, feeling like a predator coming for its prey, the startling intensity of that dark expression, and brooding charisma, all sent chills down me; familiar chills that made me as uncomfortable and overwhelmed as they always did. The ethereal beauty was breathtaking, the sight of him dangerously stalking was freezing me to my spot, the strong and lithe body heading straight for me, and I stared, unable to take my eyes off him.

      L’eiito Ara’laan was a deadly assassin, a perfect hunter, a powerful Mage, and immense sword-fighter. He was also not someone you wanted coming at you, stalking you like prey, eyeing you with a cool and penetrating gaze that went right through into your very soul. His long and delicate fingers were clenched, his hips moved in way that looked like he was ready to pounce, his expression one of terrifying cold thunder. It was all I could do to stand my ground and not run.

      As I waited for L’eiito to cross the enormous courtyard to me, in my drained haze I found myself entirely mesmerised by him. I stood there like an idiot, taking him in silently as he strode towards me, watching as he moved so fluidly and deliberately, his lithe and strong body moving exactly as he intended with every step. His raven-black long hair was down again, brushing against his high and sharp cheekbones as it flowed down to touch his shoulders, moving gently with the cool draught within the cavern. It made me feel very strange inside.

      His strong black leather doublet was gone again, instead wearing just the loose shirt he always had beneath it, barely half-tucked hastily into his black leather pants, its laces, usually done up tightly, now open and loose, allowing a touch more than a glimpse to what was going on underneath. He was unarmed – thankfully – and his tough leather long-boots made almost no sound as he headed towards me, long limbs making confident and purposeful strides towards where I stood.

      Intense dark eyes bore into me as he made his way over. The glare said I was certainly not going to enjoy the lecture I would inevitably receive once he reached me. The feeling that intense stare gave me was one I never liked... It was one that made me on the one hand blanch with dread at the impending doom that was coming my way, and on the other feel things that I most definitely and absolutely should not.

      Unfortunately, it was during these short, momentary times that I forgot that L’eiito was supposed to be just my friend – the one who told me off, looked out for me, lectured me, argued with me, and scowled at me. A lot. My first friend, the one who brought me to the Coven, my fighting partner, my chaperone. My best friend of more than three years. Nearly four.

      It was at times like these all of that went out the window.

      As he neared, I felt the hairs prick up on the back of my neck and something in my belly tighten. My heart pulled with a pining ache and I felt strangely lightheaded – something that I felt far too often, which I did not want to feel right now. I tried to ignore it, as I always did, given it was completely inappropriate to think of feel any such things about him. But the way he looked at me, with such intensity, the way he took care of me... Divinities, I wished I did not think so much more of him than I should. I imagined he would be horrified if he even suspected such a thing. So, I again tried to shove it to the back of my mind, before I did something we were both going to regret. My momentary lapses in judgment didn’t need to be known by him, and I could do without the humiliation to go with it.

      L’eiito walked right up to me. My nose was barely inches from his open shirt, and I averted my eyes quickly from the partially bare chest that faced me. Instead, I crossed my arms and looked up at him with a silent demand to know what he was doing disturbing my practice.

      “Care to explain why you are no longer in bed?” L’eiito scowled intensely as he growled his demand. “You were expected to be resting. You were not expected to be out in the practice ring electrocuting the mannequins.”

      “I am not an invalid. I have better things to be doing than lying in bed.” I bristled and shot him an irate stare. “I also do not remember you becoming my mother.”

      “Quite clearly someone needs to take care of you, since you continuously refuse to do so for yourself. I may not be your mother, but I am your protector.”

      I rolled my eyes and turned away from him. He grasped my arm and spun me back to face him. He was glaring at me, his face lowered very close to mine, his eyes black and hard.

      Divinities … I really wished he wouldn’t do that. My poor heart had enough to contend with, without him doing things like that to make it worse!

      “We nearly lost you, Ana,” he growled dangerously. “You must learn to take better care for yourself! It is the middle of the night, and you are meant to be recuperating from nearly being killed.”

      “What exactly do you think you’re doing checking up on me at this time of night anyway?” I countered hotly. I did not appreciate being told what I could and could not do, particularly when the other person just happened to have a very good point.

      “I went to your room to see how you were faring. Needless to say, I was displeased to find you were missing.”

      That was clearly putting it mildly, if his thunderous expression was anything to go by.

      “I don’t have to stay in bed and wallow in self-pity just to put your mind at rest,” I snapped grumpily, wondering why he would specifically disturb his own sleep at this ridiculous time to check on me. I clearly wasn’t that ill anymore. “I can get up and practice if I like.”

      L’eiito raised an eyebrow. “And precisely how pleased do you think Saebastiia’an would be if he knew you were out here, exhausting yourself so soon after he saved your life?”

      I pursed my lips and pouted. The point, again, was well-made, negating any rebuke.

      Rubbing my head, I found what little was left of my energy quickly evaporating. I started to feel dizzy and my legs were becoming weaker. I had to admit this early-hours secret practice session had been a big mistake – I felt drained and nauseous and was ready to collapse. The feeling of powerless and mindless exhaustion was becoming overwhelming again. The side-effects of the Healing were complex and unpleasant, and I was still suffering greatly from them now.

      I stared down at my hand. I stood lost in my own musings, clenching and unclenching it, mesmerised, watching streaks of blue, green and red Magika zap over my fist and outstretched hand like tiny steaks of rainbow lightening. I let them momentarily hypnotise me as I stared.

      I didn’t even realise I was slipping to the floor until L’eiito grasped me deftly around the waist and only just stopped me from falling.

      “Ana...” L’eiito’s growl was torn between exasperated and imploring as he lifted me back onto my feet. I grasped onto his strong upper arms as he pulled me against him to steady me. “Please, will you return to your bed now?”

      I moved my hands to his shoulders and tipped my head back to looked up at him. He looked back down at me with his usual exasperated concern. I loved looking at him – and I hated that I did at the same time. He was too beautiful and intense for my own good.

      “Yes...” I finally relented only because I no longer had much choice. It had nothing to do with how close his face was or the feelings I had inside. Nope… Absolutely nothing… “I probably should go.”

      Without bothering to reply, L’eiito carefully wrapped his arm tightly around my waist, holding me up to help me leave. I put my arm around his middle and leaned my pounding, spinning head against his chest, wishing I was already in bed, not pressed up against him like this. I liked this far too much…

      I looked up from the floor as we started to walk back, having been staring down at my dragging feet to check they were at least trying to work. I wasn’t quite sure if I believed what I was seeing when I saw what was there, given that I was mainly looking at it through a haze of exhausted delusion was a blurred rainbow aura surrounding a figure floating towards me in swirling robes and palest-blonde, almost white, hair. I eventually recognised it as being the Coven’s Priestess, High Sorceress Ara’abaellaa, who was walking, floating, towards us, her long and flowing beautiful robes swishing hypnotically about her feet.

      “Is she really here?” I mumbled to L’eiito. He turned his head and looked back with some mild exasperation.

      “Yes, she is. If you are so ill you believe you are hallucinating, you most assuredly should not have left your bed.”

      The haze of colour floated closer. I blinked and looked up, barely able to focus on her beautiful and ethereal features as she looked at me with concern.

      “Ana, my dear, what are you doing here?” The High Sorceress’ soft tone was a mellowing comfort blanket to my ears.

      “She has spent quite possibly several hours draining all her energy in fighting practice, Your Grace,” L’eiito answered grimly for me. “She now suffers the consequences of Mana depletion.”

      “As well as what she has already endured?” The High Sorceress looked at me with mild sternness within light emerald eyes that seemed to swirl before me. “Ana, you should know better. You cannot do such things when you have not already completely recovered from your Healing.”

      “I just wanted to get better, Your Grace,” I answered meekly, my mind off in its own haze. “I didn’t want to die again.”

      The High Sorceress shook her head at me. “An ironic statement, given it looks like you are already half-dead from exhaustion, after attempting this foolishness. You have always have allowed your stubbornness to do your thinking for you. It seems very fortunate that L’eiito found you when he did – you can barely stand.” She sent him a grateful look. “I would not have found you in time, since I undertook my checks of the Coven much later than usual tonight.”

      “I shall return her to her rooms and ensure she remains there now, Your Grace,” L’eiito said solemnly to her. “You need not be concerned there will be a repeat of this incident.”

      “Keep taking care of her... L’eiito.” The High Sorceress bowed her head to him slightly in acknowledgment. “Somebody needs to. She is too stubborn to do anything but push herself too far, and we need to try and keep this girl in one piece.”

      “Yes, we do...” L’eiito sighed. “I shall continue to take care of her. Goodnight, Your Grace.”

      I felt his grip tighten on me, and he encouraged me forward. Slowly, we started making our way back to the West Wing and my bedroom. I could barely get my legs to work and eventually L’eiito stopped me by the stairs. I looked at him with some confusion.

      “Care to make it to bed before sunrise?” he asked with growling sarcasm. I was about to retort when he leant down and slipped his arm under my knees and swept me up against him. He lifted me easily, like he had done when I was first hurt, carrying me against him to get me up the stairs.

      I put my arms around his neck and closed my tired eyes, resting my pounding head against his cheek as he cradled me safely against his chest. I was so very relieved to not have to walk any further, and almost as comforted by being held close by him. I was a very bad friend, with very inappropriate feelings.

      “When I put you to bed this time, you will stay there,” he grumbled softly at me in my ear in his beautiful low tone. “Otherwise I am locking the door.”

      “I’m fairly certain I’m not going to be able to do much now,” I muttered quietly.

      “Honestly, Ana, what were you thinking?”

      I flinched at his harsh tone. “I didn’t want to let you down again.”

      I heard an exasperated huff and felt him shaking his head against mine. “Yet you managed to achieve it anyway with this. Your stubborn folly is notorious.”

      He stopped and opened the door to my room with the hand that had been pressed against my back. He pushed it open with his foot and took me in, kicking it shut behind him after. I was now extremely relieved he was unarmed – I had images of him locking the door right now and taking my head off.

      But then he could still push me out of my window. Perhaps I wasn’t too safe after all.

      “I am not about to kill you… Therefore, you can desist from imagining it.”

      I remained quiet in my guilt. I didn’t want to taunt his irritation with me further. L’eiito knelt and lowered me onto my bed. He deftly undid all the buckles down the calves of both my boots and pulled them off, then shoved me into the blankets otherwise fully clothed.

      “Stay there and do not move until I return in the morning,” he ordered sternly. “Otherwise I just very well may throw your head out of the window.”

      I looked up at him from my pillow as he rose to his feet. “Must you go?”

      I immediately wished I had remained silent and inwardly groaned. I should never be allowed to speak when I have tired myself senseless. One day such things were going to get my little secret found out.

      L’eiito leaned over me and pushed hair away from my face, with an almost imperceptible smile.

      “If it means you will stay in that bed, I shall stay with you.” He lowered himself onto the edge of my bed, sitting close, resting his arm over the other side of me, his hand pressed against the other side of my hip. “Just as it was on that first night you came. I found myself doing just this to ensure you did not run away.”

      I smiled at the recollection. “You were all so imposing. You were all expert Mages and I hadn’t even had a day’s real training. I had no idea what I was doing here.”

      “Yet you managed to fend for yourself in the forest against the bandits that roam there. Your raw talent was already incredibly impressive, making you rather imposing to us.”

      I raised my eyebrows with surprise, intensifying my headache further. I winced at the pain like I was a small child who still needed her dolly. Not like a battle-hardened fighting Mage quite used to pain.

      “That seems quite unlikely. I cannot see how any of you could possibly find me imposing.”

      L’eiito have a low, deep laugh of amusement. “You were all of twenty-two, barely skin and bones from going without eating, and without any formal training – yet you could fight those men on your own whilst entirely exhausted. What was there not to be impressed about?”

      “But if you hadn’t come to my aid and fought with me that day, I would not have managed on my own.”

      I reached up and put my hand on his arm as I remembered it all. I had been exhausted, overpowered, and outclassed by the mercenaries who I fought alone in the woods. I hadn’t eaten properly for days – nothing but a few scraps I had managed to come by. I hadn’t slept properly because the forest was dangerous. If L’eiito hadn’t stumbled across me fighting them, I may not have survived that one last fight.

      Having seen my Magika abilities, he had asked afterwards where I had trained. This was the first time I had realised that Magika could be trained at all and that there were Covens scattered all over Narayya’an that did so. I was wounded, exhausted and weak, so he stubbornly insisted he take me to his own Coven where I could be healed and recuperate. I was taken to Saebastiia’an in the infirmary, then brought to this very room to sleep.

      As had always happened since, I reacted badly to the Healing and spent three days in the infirmary before coming around, where the first thing I saw upon opening my eyes was L’eiito. On my first night in this bed, I had been so overwhelmed by everything I had tried to leave, even though I could barely stand. L’eiito had brought me back and stayed with me the whole night. He had barely left my side since. His continued loyalty touched me still.

      “It has been more than three years hence,” he said softly, musing it with a warm half-smile. He gazed at me warmly with those deep dark eyes, gently brushing hair from my face. “Three years... Yet I must still come to your aid and rescue you when you fight. Thus, it would appear that despite the time gone, nothing has changed.”

      He teasingly gave a sweet grin. I smiled back and did not contradict him, but deep inside I knew everything had changed.

      “I will be right here in your armchair, so you may rest easily and yet still cannot leave here again.”

      He squeezed my hand and went to sit in the chair over by the window. Then I closed my eyes and allowed exhaustion to take me away. 

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