by A Y Venona
“The ward hit me?”
“The ward spell is usually activated when someone approaches the gate. They would feel the sensation of being stuck on the ground. But yours was different. You were able to move your feet right at that point when nobody ever could, and then all of a sudden you came flying back like some kind of invisible force tossed you up. Poseidon’s balls, I was so scared! And look at the gate!”
My gaze shifted to where Tela was pointing. The ruby stone was glowing!
“What’s in Hades’ hell is happening?”
“I think you woke something up.”
“It better be something and not someone. I don’t want to be the one who disturbed whatever was sleeping in there,” I said, half jesting though I was still utterly shaken.
“Either that or you opened the gate to the Atlantis. I was hoping you opened the gate. That would be…something.”
The ruby stone continued emitting a reddish glow as though my intrusion served as the shock that had awakened it from its long slumber, and now it was pumping blood into the whole structure.
Was this the gate to Atlantis?
Or did I awaken someone?
CHAPTER 2
The Gathering Counter: Friday, seventeen days before the Gatherings
The next day proved to be an exercise in the art of hedging and avoidance. I ignored all of Tela’s attempts to discuss what had happened in the forest. And after our last class, I tried hiding from her. This was why I took refuge in Moonstone Cafe, the famous hangout of the faes and the last place Tela would search for me.
So as not to be easily detected, I chose the table near the waterfalls, a section in the cafe obscured by a wall of Daphne and red roses—just imagine the sweetness of scent permeating the place. It was ethereal.
I glanced at the clock carved in the rock next to the cascading water. Trains ran from Pershiane to Shore Town every thirty minutes, and the last one had just departed. This gave me a thirty-minute wait before the next one arrived.
“Hear this.”
I grimaced when I heard the familiar voice. Did she sneak a tracker on me? If I did not acknowledge her, would she disappear?
“A Droom professor discovered a dragon bone in Cave Cretin,” Tela said, oblivious to my disinterest in engaging in conversation. “They said it’s around two thousand years old. This definitely destroyed the claim about dragon being extinct millions of years ago.”
I sighed and then turned to face her. Her eyes were twinkling in excitement like a child who’s just come out of sucrose land.
“When exactly did they confirm that dragons were real much less becoming extinct?” I said with sarcasm.
“Well, the Droom institution confirmed it—”
“Oh, yeah, Droom who also proposed that jinns be classified as humans?”
“Hey, Droom is reliable. And what’s wrong with that? Jinns deserve to be treated like humans. So have respect.”
“Yes, there’s nothing wrong with treating everyone with respect. Only that jinns don’t really exist.”
“What are you talking about? Jinns are real.”
I heaved another deep sigh and then returned my attention to my notebook, thinking she might just be some figment of my too-paranoid imagination.
“They’re everywhere,” Tela said, slapping my forearm.
“Ouch, what did you do that for?”
“You’re ignoring me as if I wasn’t here. I’m right here.”
“I don’t want to waste my time in gibberish conversation. It’s all dragon shit!”
She slapped my forearm again.
“What!”
“Don’t cuss.” Her gaze fell to the coffee on the table. “What coffee did you order? Have you tried the Nebrosia? Trust me, it’s delicious.”
“It’s also twenty percent coffee and eighty percent flower juice. I want more coffee in my coffee, thank you very much,” I said and proceeded to demonstrate my point by drinking my preferred coffee in front of her.
“You rotten-stolid imp, listen to me. Dragon is real. Jinns are real. And you’re hot.”
I choked on the last one. “What’s this, two truth and a lie game?”
“Not a game. Just a plain simple truth that, unfortunately, only special people can see,” she said and stole the coffee and drank it.
I bit back the retort on the tip of my tongue and rolled my eyes instead. Counted three, two, one…
“So, I wrote this spell. It’s a combination of the different locomotion spells. However, I do not know how the words are read, so I’d like you to help me try all the different articulations and see which one will work,” I said, changing the subject.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you think this is? Our assignment of course.”
“The one from Sir Atkin? It isn’t due until after the Gatherings. We have more time.”
“Well, I’m not really good at spells and enchantments—I mean, not good with everything. So I need to start ahead.”
I felt her probing gaze on my skin.
“You don’t have like downtime, do you? It’s all work for you,” she said.
“This is my downtime.”
Her eyebrows raised. “Downtime is when you don’t talk about class work but rather talk about nonsensical—”
“Slops! Okay. But let me decide what to do with my time. Got that?”
“What about the Gatherings. Let’s talk about it. Aren’t you excited about it? The alphas are going to be there.” Her arms crossed against her chest, her eyes glimmering with amusement.
If I could only launch glares like missiles, then I’d have done it in a heartbeat.
“I thought you were more excited about the Droom delegates.”
“I am, but I’m just human. Of course, I’m excited about the alphas too.” She added a ridiculous affectation in her voice.
“What exactly about the alphas has you excited?” I asked, humoring her pseudo excitement.
“Well, their overwhelming presence.”
I burst out laughing. “So you’re joining the crazy train.”
“Something’s wrong with you.” She leaned forward and across the table to get close to my face. “Nothing seems to excite you.”
“Not true.”
“Okay, so tell me.”
“Adrian.”
“Oh, right. Your pseudo brother.”
“He’s not my pseudo brother. We’re not related.”
“You’re his father’s ward. You’ve lived in his house since you were like a baby. You grew up with him. Whether you like it or not, he’s your pseudo brother!”
“Do you have to raise your voice? He’s not.”
“If he’s not, then what is he?”
My gaze fell on the waterfall. The water quietly cascading down the rough surface of the rock calmed me. Who was Adrian to me if not a brother? There was not any doubt in my mind what the answer was, but if others thought of me as nothing but a brother to Adrian, then what was I to Adrian?
“You’re suddenly quiet.”
“You just killed my vibes.”
“Let’s talk about what happened in the forest.”
“We’re not talking about it—the reason why I was avoiding you is because I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Oh, so that’s why you’re here.”
How could one sharpen a glare? Because mine was pointless on her.
“All right,” she suddenly said. “Let’s see if your spell works.”
And just like that, she was my best friend again.
* * *
Pershiane Island had a garden that the students used to practice their enchantment skills. It had a section set aside for rare herbs and another section for an exhibition of the best nature sculptures in the Realms. Having discovered secret spots in one of our explorations and misadventures, we held our practice in a secluded area of the garden behind a flower bed that was shaped like a mini castle. This was not the initial choice we had in mind. But in the midst
of making a sound decision on the matter of choosing the best possible spot to practice, a rare and exotic purple frog caught our attention. And so we followed it as it leaped toward a corner, which led us to here.
“Nah-fah-sah-oh-yur,” Tela said, casting the spell I wrote. “Fah-bah-yuh-eh!” She then smashed the vial that contained a blue locomotive potion against the rock that weighed five hundred thirty pounds. Yep. I weighed it using a visual-imagery scale, a device that measured anything just by simply scanning it. This was one of those devices I’d purchased using the coins I’d earned from my potion-selling sideline. I was already of the age where the society expected me to be self-reliant. And besides, I refused to use Angus’s coins for luxurious items such as this one.
And so we waited. This was the third trial. And the rock was yet to do something—move or roll. Something.
“Well, let’s try the fourth version of the spell,” I said to Tela, who looked like she’d received a pounding from a big log of disappointment. Or in our case, a huge rock.
“I thought I got it this time. I did cast that spell with flawless accuracy. Flawless! And I mean in every sense of that word. Flawless,” she said with a hand gesture to suggest what she meant exactly by flawlessness.
Steering her back to the task at hand, I said, “All right, let’s move on. Here.” I gave her a piece of paper with the next version of the spell.
She stared at it, studying it for a bit. A few minutes passed, and she was ready.
Positioning herself in front of the rock with her feet wide apart, she cast the spell.
“Nih-fih-sih…oh-yur…fih-bih…yuh-weh.” Then she subsequently tossed the potion vial onto the target rock.
And I would say this with great pride and a sense of accomplishment that it was a success. The rock rolled, albeit just a little. But while I was jumping with joy, Tela was staring at me like I’d just lost my marbles.
“You called that a success? It was just a tiny, minute, small movement. The project is about a powerful spell-potion enchantment that can sink a whole city! That one was nothing! I can just call Tori, and he can move that rock himself, no magic needed. Just a few shots of muscle serum.” Then her face changed, resembling a look of someone who’d just realized a nugget of wisdom. “Come to think of it, while magic has been stuck in the dark ages despite the fact faes refused to acknowledge the existence of dragons, science has been gaining the upper hand. And I tell you this: they have all these breakthroughs that ten years from now can render magic useless.”
“You don’t understand. With a higher dosage of potion, I’ll promise you that the rock will move as far as you want it to. It will split or levitate. But that’s not the point of why today is a success. Today, we just figured out how these words are correctly read. We’ve heard the spell said to us, taught to us. But they never told us when it becomes tih, or tuh, or tah, or toh. But now we know. Do you know what this means?”
“No?” she replied, still looking incredulous.
“The sky is the limit for me now. I have found a way to read those complicated spells! Old. Ancient. Bring them on. I now know how to use it.”
“Hang on, back up for a minute. That’s all future talk. Let’s prioritize the now. Were you saying earlier that with higher dosages, we can up the ante on the enchantment?”
Readily I answered, “Yes, I can increase the dosage in proportion to the weight of the object. For example.” I took one vial out of my bag. “This has the same dosage with the potion we used. This has ten mana. I’ll say for every ten pounds, there needs to be ten mana to successfully move it towards a certain distance, which I still have to calculate. Then I can divide the weight of the object by ten. This will give me the amount of mana needed for that particular object. However…” My voice changed in tone, a little subdued. “I also realize that you must be right. Somehow, science can easily bomb a place with enough force to sink it. Magic is rendered useless.”
She looked at me dumbfounded. “What are you saying? Of all the things I have wished for you to agree with me, this is not one of them.”
I grinned. “Maybe we’re looking at it the wrong way. I don’t need a Locomotive Enchantment, but a Force Spell.”
“Which you already have. Am I right?”
My grin widened. “I do have one. But again, you need to test it.”
She sighed, her arms outstretched upward. “Heavens, my gratitude for sending me thy child.” Then to me, she said, “Shall I assume we are partners for this project?”
“Of course!”
“Oh, Zeus-fucking-Hades! You’re so good that I don’t even have to do anything.”
Only Tela could make a compliment sound wrong.
* * *
It was late in the afternoon when I took a train ride back home to Shore Town. There was barely anyone on the train, so I chose the seat near the door.
When the train crossed the middle of the bridge, it jolted like it had hit a rock. Murmurs of annoyance rang inside the train and then quickly quieted down when we started moving again. Outside, the green water of Lake Gaia shimmered as the sun nearly reached the horizon. Warm air blew on my neck, making me look over to the other passengers nearest to me, which were one bench chair away. They all looked at me, a little bemused. I glared at them, just because.
When the train dropped me off at the Oakwood Forest, which was owned by Angus, I began my trek to Angus’s mansion. I was halfway there when I felt a presence walking beside me.
There was no sign of another pair of footsteps, but I could feel it on my skin like a warm breath close to my neck. I quickened my steps, my heart beating faster.
A hand suddenly clamped my mouth, and an arm circled around my waist. Everything turned as I was spun around.
“Adrian, put me down!” I said, then laughed.
“Oh, I’m carrying you like this. Wrap your legs around my waist.”
I did and buried my head in the crook of Adrian’s neck.
Adrian was back.
Adrian was home.
I grinned. Look at that. Maybe I could use that downtime that Tela so fervently suggested.
CHAPTER 3
Here was how complicated my family was. Angus was once married to Adrian’s father, King Larsa the Fifth of Lowescir. And for the obvious reason that Angus couldn’t provide an heir, Adrian’s father took a second spouse, Queen Gernet, who was Adrian’s mother.
When my mother, Angus’s best friend, was pregnant with me, she asked Angus if she could stay in the palace until she delivered the baby. King Larsa gave her permission to stay indefinitely.
Six years after I was born, she died. A year after that, Angus took me to Pershiane, and we never came back. Since then Adrian had been moving between Lowescir to Pershiane. When asked where he preferred to stay more, he answered here with us.
It was then that Pershiane, the capital of Westernia, became Adrian’s home more than Lowescir was. It also helped that his guardianship duty frequently led him to this place.
And when he was around, there was always a feast in the kitchen.
Like now.
Angus laid a big chunk of the roast beef on the long wooden table. Adrian took a few slices of it, piled up his own plate, and then placed some on my plate.
“I can’t believe it. I was away for a while and came back with you looking all grown up,” Adrian said, mussing my hair.
I was quite aware of the way I’d gained muscle, how my baby-fat face had turned sharper and chiseled, and how I needed to shave every day to get rid of my facial hair. I did not actually care if I grew a beard, but Angus made me shave it to avoid the scrutiny of the faes whose biology kept them from sprouting beards until they turned forty years old. This was Angus’s way of telling me to try harder to look like fae and act like one. But I was never really good at following directions.
It was opposite for the werekin. They viewed beards as a sign of manhood. Although I was only half-werekin, as my other part was fae, I shared this viewpoint. I found fa
cial hair sexy in a man—particularly in a certain man. Adrian was the epitome of masculine beauty: strong and ruggedly beautiful. He had the most piercing and beautiful pair of gray eyes. Along with his muscular, well-proportioned build, though a little leaner than a full-blown Herculean mass, he was every faekin’s and werekin’s wet dream.
“Why so quiet?” Adrian asked, his eyes squinting, looking suspicious.
“I’m just tired. Last time you called me, you didn’t mention you were coming home this month.”
“I just wanted to surprise you.”
“I’m surprised all right,” I answered. My heart hitched when Adrian leaned forward to kiss my cheek.
“You’re still a baby to me,” Adrian said.
“Not a baby anymore. I’m twenty-three, and soon to be twenty-four.”
“Next year,” Angus said.
“Still a baby to my twenty-seven, soon to be twenty-eight,” Adrian answered back, mimicking the tone of my voice. And then to Angus, he said, “Next week.”
“Okay, children. You both are young to my ancientness,” Angus interjected. “Now, I’m feeling a little bit insecure that no one complimented my roast beef.”
“It’s good, Angus,” we both said in unison. Adrian gave me a wink that unleashed butterflies in my stomach. His wink never failed to do that. It had only intensified as I grew older.
I demolished the slices on my plate like a hungry full-blown werekin. Adrian refilled it the moment it was empty.
“So how long are you going to be staying in Pershiane?” Angus asked while pouring three glasses of red wine.
“Indefinitely,” Adrian answered, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
Angus handed the wineglasses to us. He waited until Adrian was able to empty the glass before asking, “Something happened?”
“I’m taking a break for personal reasons. It’s something I need to work on,” Adrian answered. The melancholy in his voice tugged at my heartstrings.
“Are you guys going to be in the Gatherings?” I said, steering the conversation into a more upbeat topic. I learned at school, not from any professors, that talking about the upcoming Gatherings could spark excitement, enthusiasm. Giddiness.