by Riley Moreno
She had barely got the chance to know her grandmother, the famous Mira Domitreu, but she had always felt connected to the other woman. More so even than her own mother. Hazel wished she really was there to help her, to guide her, to tell her what to do.
A thought struck her then. This was her house, and her study had sat upstairs basically untouched for the past almost twenty years. With a new sense of purpose Hazel popped up off the couch, wiping at the trail of tears with the back of one hand while she walked up the creaky set of stairs, down the hall past her own bedroom and finally stood in front of the last door at the end.
It was a room she didn’t go into much, where her grandmother used to sit for hours working on new spells, or old ones. Very old ones. She hesitated only for a moment before pushing open the door. It protested loudly on rusty hinges, but slid open fairly easily. She walked in, looking around the dust mote filled room, feeling blindly for a light switch along the wall until she finally found one and flipped it on.
Dim light illuminated the small, crowded room and she walked in, looking around but not really sure what, if anything she was searching for. Maybe she was just looking for some sense of connection to the great witch, the type of witch she had always thought she would be.
There were shelves and shelves of dusty books and crystals, bags and boxes and jars of who knows what stacked haphazardly on every surface. A large, old wooden desk, worn from use, sat in the middle of the room still piled with papers and books and a small set of pens and inks, as if they were all just waiting for her grandmother to walk back in and resume whatever she had been working on.
She knew her grandmother, Mira, had been one of the most powerful witches in the country when she died, but still, they didn’t hold a candle to the witches of old. Mira had loved exploring the past, their history and ancestry, to try and find where the magic had begun to fade. It had been one of her great life works, one of many. She had discovered a treasure trove of old magic, but there were none alive strong enough to cast them. There hadn’t been for hundreds and hundreds of years.
Hazel took a few more steps, drawn to the book left open in the middle of the desk, as if her grandmother had just stepped out for a pot of tea and would be back to finish it in a moment, but she never had.
Gingerly, she lowered herself into the wicker chair and it creaked mightily as she shifted her weight against the pile of cushions on top of it. Finally, comfortable, and confident that the chair itself wouldn’t give out beneath her, she turned her attention to the book in front of her.
It took a long moment for her to make sense of what she was reading and when she did her heart began to race wildly in her chest. Hazel traced her fingers over the beautiful scrollwork on each open page, the hand drawn images of a type of animal she had never seen before, but it was the spell itself that captured her attention.
“To Release the Inner Self,” it read at the top. Hazel quickly scanned the rest of the words, and then again, more slowly. After the third time, hope and anticipation blossomed heavy and poignant inside her. It seemed to be a spell to conjure a witch’s hidden power. Just exactly what she need. It was as if her grandmother had left it there for her, knowing that one day, she would desperately need it.
Without even stopping to read the next page, she scooped up the book, scavenging the study quickly to find what she needed. The spell itself seemed relatively simple, she just prayed she would be strong enough, and the fates would be kind enough, to let it work.
Chapter 4
Hazel looked again from the book, down to the chalk drawn symbol on the floor of the attic room. This was the space where she always felt the most powerful, had in fact been the very spot where she had conjured the flame that accidentally caught the front lawn on fire.
Her pulse was pounding in her ears, from nervousness or excitement she couldn’t tell as she stepped inside the symbol, lining her body up just as the spell demanded. Facing east, feet bare, on either side of the middle symbol, another one of those strange animals that she supposed represented her inner power. She sent out a quick prayer that this would work before kneeling down, grabbing the box of matches, and lighting the purposefully placed candles surrounding her.
She supposed in the days when this spell was written the witch would just conjure the candles alight, but that was far beyond what Hazel could do now. But hopefully not when the spell was over. A spike of fear shot through her as she hefted the heavy book again, but she pushed it down mercilessly. If it was something her grandmother was working on, it wouldn’t be dangerous or harmful. Mira only explored light magic, good magic. Never dark.
Hazel stared out the giant round window that eclipsed the east side of the room, the side she was facing, transfixed by the moon that hung fat and low in the velvet night South Dakota sky, the stars twinkling merrily in the dark. She let one last, fraught moment slide by before turning once more to the words on the page in front of her.
“Invenire lux mea est. Tolle lux mea est.” The unfamiliar words rolled off her tongue awkwardly but as she said them aloud, something happened. It was if she could all of a sudden understand their meaning perfectly, and it echoed loudly through her mind. Find my light. Take my light.
“Tenebris quaerant animan meam, invenient nox illuminatio mea.” Seek my dark, find my night.
“Lunam et stellas gulgebunt occulto. Quarens absconditorum es cognitor, potestatem ultro.” moon and stars shine brightly, hidden. Seeking secrets, power unbidden.
The last of the words swept out into the night, sending the candle flames flickering wildly, dancing to some unheard beat. There was just one more line scrawled at the bottom of the page, as if someone had added it as an afterthought, and she hastily spoke the words, willing with all her might that it would work, that it would truly unlock her most secret powers.
She had barely finished speaking when a bright flash of light filled the room and a deafening clap like thunder had her ears ringing and her hands going up to cover them despite her best efforts to stay in place.
The light grows and grows instead of dissipating and a warmth is coming from it that soon becomes a heat so intense she tries to back away from it only to find herself locked in place. She couldn’t move her feet at all, and from where she was, all she could do was watch wide eyed as the light swirled faster and faster, streaks of red and green and gold and black, the deepest black she had ever seen, all mashed together so that she couldn’t tell one from the other.
Hazel tried to scream, she tried to run away, anything at all to get away from the mass that continued to grow and solidify in front of her, but she couldn’t do either. She couldn’t move, or even speak as the air was sucked out of the room, trapped by the swirling vortex, like a multi colored tornado now in the middle of her attic.
Her panicked thoughts flitted wildly around her head, but she had no answer for what was happening, she had never seen or heard of anything like it, and it definitely didn’t feel as if her own powers had been released. She felt the same as she always did, albeit terrified.
Her violet colored eyes widened even more as shapes begin to emerge, filling the entire space with odd shadows cast at wrong angles as they seemed to step out of the still spinning light. A sound echoed loudly like a train heading straight towards her but then it morphs into what could almost have been the cry of an animal, wounded and scared. The most dangerous kind.
Fear once again floods her as she realizes that she still can’t breathe, the oxygen levels depleted by whatever strange occurrence she had caused with the spell. That’s just perfect, she thought to herself, surprisingly calm all of a sudden, I try to unlock my powers and I end up killing myself.
As the edges of her vision begin to go dark, Hazel can just make out the shadowy silhouettes of two separate beings, similar to the strange animals drawn on the pages of the spell, and exactly like the symbol she had drawn on the floor beneath her in chalk. They turned towards her just as her vision went black. The last thing she saw were
two sets of eyes staring at her, one burning amber gold and the other shining silver.
The eyes stared down at the unconscious witch for a long moment, trying to make sense of what had just happened. She must be powerful indeed to break them out of the prison that had trapped them for several centuries. She was also the most beautiful creature they’d ever seen, one of them thought, the one with eyes like molten gold. The silver eyed one glanced at the other in censure, but he couldn’t argue. She was incredibly gorgeous, drawing them to her side even as she lay there unawake.
Gently, the golden eyed one slipped his hands underneath her, one beneath her back and one beneath her knees, lifting her against his chest as if she weighted nothing. He checked her for injuries, but found her breathing slow and steady, the air from her lungs feathering against his shoulder in a way that had him holding her closer than necessary against him.
She looks so fragile, he thought, staring down at her pale cheeks and plump, pink lips. The other one glanced over, nodding, as they found the door that opened up to a bedroom. It must be hers, he thought in wonder as he glanced around briefly. Softly, the witch was laid on the bed, on top of the blankets and mass of pillows. The men shared one, drawn out look, not even needing to speak after being caged together for so long, before they both sat down on the edge of the bed to wait.
Chapter 5
Hazel blinked open heavy eyelids, trying to remember what had happened. She felt out blindly with her hands, feeling the soft blanket underneath her, and the mattress below that. Okay, she was in her bed. Now just how did she get there. She vaguely recalled the words of the spell, and then something happened afterward, but it was all hazy and whenever she tried to focus a pounding began over her left temple that had her hands flying up to try and ease it.
“Don’t worry, witch. The headache will pass in a little bit. Nika is brewing you a tea that should help as well.”
Hazel had jumped clear out of her skin at the sound of the deep voice rolling through the dim light of her bedroom.
“What the hell…Who the hell are you, and what the hell are you doing in my house!” She shrieked as she tried to crawl off the bed to put it between her and mysterious man voice. But her legs got tangled in the pile of blankets and she tumbled to the floor instead. Warm hands were there in an instant, helping her to her feet, running over her scalp and shoulders to make sure she was okay.
“Uh, what do you think you’re doing?” she said, more breathless than she would have liked. Hazel squinted into the darkness, but he was just a large darkly outlined shadow. Very large. Hastily, she ducked past him and his still searching fingers, dashing to the light switch on the wall by the door, and flipped it on, panting from the sudden exertion and the fear the stranger’s presence had evoked.
She froze for a full ten seconds, just staring at the most magnificent example of man flesh she’d ever seen. He’s a god, she thought, and Hazel jumped again as he chuckled softly.
“No, not a god. Definitely not that.”
His words sparked pure panic.
“You did not…Who are you…did you just read my fricken’ mind?” Hazel finally forced the question out, a million others crashing haphazardly through her brain.
He just glanced at her, a small lopsided smile on his too handsome face making him impossibly more delectable. Despite herself, she drank him in. He was tall, towering over her by at least a foot, and with enough muscles to win a strong man competition, maybe even two. At the same time.
His broad shoulders drew her gaze ever upward until it reached the slashing line of his jaw, his full mouth, and slightly crooked nose, as if it had been broken several times and never set correctly. Somehow, it made the rest of his face look that much more striking, setting off the dark slashing brows and black, swept back hair. But what caught her attention most were his eyes. Those pure, golden eyes that seemed to see right through her, to her most secret wants and desires. The golden eyes she had seen just seconds before everything had gone black.
This isn’t happening, she thought again, what the hell is happening? Hazel didn’t jump quiet as high this time when he answered her unspoken question.
“You freed us.” He said simply, his golden gaze filling with some of the confusion that she felt. “You said the ancient words, invoking the magic that freed us. Surly you must know what you did.”
Hazel just shook her head, trying to wrap her muddled brain around what he was saying. There was a sudden anger in his face that had her taking a hasty step back.
“Not just us.” The stranger said as if the thought had just occurred to him, “You freed Eidolon as well.”
“Eid…Eido…What now?”
“A terrible creature, a monster so evil we had to lock ourselves away in the same cage just to trap him…and you freed us. You freed us all.” He stared at her now with hard, burning eyes. Her stomach dropped at his words.
“Oh, um. Oh.” She stuttered, searching for the right thing to say, the right words.
“There are no right words! You may have just doomed us all!” he said the words softly but vehemently.
“Hey, you just stay out of my head, okay? That’s mine, and mine alone.” Hazel shot back, but he just threw up his hands before running one set of long fingers through his thick jet black hair, leaving it mussed as if he had just tumbled out of bed. The thought had heat spearing through her, and when he turned back there was an answering heat in his own golden eyed gaze.
“Uh, let’s just…go downstairs. Yes, yep, let’s move away from the bedroom, especially the bed, or even thoughts of beds. Yes, let’s just…” Hazel trailed off, aware that she was rambling, took one look at his face, and turned around heading for the stairs and the relative safety of the kitchen. Yes, that would be nice and safe.
She got there only to find another figure, just as handsome, just as drool worthy as the other one. Hazel couldn’t help herself from looking him up and down either, comparing the two men. His frame was leaner, not quite as heavily muscled but his strength was just as evident as he moved, gracefully, deadly, like a panther stalking its prey through a jungle canopy.
His skin was paler, rather than the tanned bronze of the other, and his face narrower, sharper somehow, but just as handsome. His eyes burned bright silver into hers and she thought she could happily drown in that look. Hazel gave herself a mental shake, trying to get a hold of herself and her wayward thoughts. She had to understand what was going on here, and drooling over these two men wasn’t helping.
Okay, Hazel, use your brain, not…other parts of your body, she reprimanded herself. The other one said Nika was making something for my headache. Then, this must be Nika.
“Actually, yes. I am Nika Florian. And you are?”
Her mouth dropped open as he turned to her, still stirring the sweet, minty smelling concoction on the stove top.
“Confused, panicking, generally about to lose it.”
“He meant your name.”
Hazel jumped as the other one, the one with golden amber eyes walked into the small kitchen, suddenly making it feel like all the air was gone, like they were using it all up and leaving her breathless and panting. It’s just because they’re so big, she tried to tell herself. Not at all because they look like gods.
“I told you already, witch. We are not gods.” He said with a small smirk.
Hazel looked them over one more time, because she just had to. Demi gods, then. A rough chuckle burst out of their mouths sending a tingling wave of warmth rushing through her. It took her a few tries, but finally she got the words out.
“My name is Hazel, Hazel Domitreu. And this is my house. And what the hell are you doing here? And. how. in. the. hell. can. you. read. my. thoughts!” Each word shot out like bullet as panic once more threatened to take her over, her voice shaking but demanding as they both just looked at her.
Finally, the one with the golden eyes heaved a great sigh before collapsing into the kitchen chair. He looked so incongruous sitting at her
small table, with it’s blue and yellow floral pattern, that for a moment all she could do was stare. His words jerked her back to the matter at hand. Well, both matters at hand. And what delicious matters they were.
“Hello, Hazel. I am called Jayce.” He glanced up at her through a dark slash of brows. “You really don’t know what you did? What you conjured?”
She sat down with a thump on the other side of the small table, all the while shaking her still pounding head.
“I really, really don’t know. Hence the questions, and the…the damn headache.” She rubbed against her temples, trying to ease the ache and suddenly there was another set of hands there, pushing and massaging in all the right ways. Hazel sighed as she melted under that touch, the pain just fading away until it was barely notable. What was extremely noticeable was the way her body arched toward the touch, a different ache growing in her center.
Suddenly conscious of herself, she cleared her throat, forcing away the pang of regret as she pulled away from the sweet touch.
“Um, thank you.” She said softly, not looking up at Nika where he stood like a mountain behind her.
“Here, drink this. It will help get rid of the ache for good.”
Yes, but which ache? she wondered as she took the mug from Jayce, their fingers barely brushing but still enough to send a tidal wave washing over her. His eyes locked on hers, staring so deeply that she was sure he could hear every thought, see every image that tried to form in her mind despite her best efforts. There was a sudden flash of fire turning his eyes molten, but then he looked away, dropping his hand to the floral print table top.
Hazel took a sip, and then moaned slightly at the silky smooth sweetness. It was utterly delicious and she hastily drank the rest of it down, praising the instant relief from the still nagging pounding of her head.
“Delicious.” She said, her lips still wrapped around the lip of the mug. They both stared at her for a long, tense moment before Jayce finally spoke.