Magic in Aquila - Chapter Two

I only noticed the little white ball of magelight—at least, I assumed it was magelight—lighting up the room when I had settled down on one of the chairs. I could see the bookshelves lining all the walls of the room, with ancient tomes and unrecognizable titles. I realized that the halls had been lit, too, because his cloak had seemed like an unnatural dark shadow.

“You can still do magic,” I murmured, wondering what that meant.

“You’re right, Ro,” he said. It sounded mocking, but I couldn’t be sure. He was so different, now, from what I remembered. “They didn’t recognize me as a Talent until after the wards fell.”

“Do you know who did it, then?” I asked, curious. He had been my childhood hero, the one who always seemed to know everything. When I had first come to Aquila, I had thought I would know something Tiernan didn’t and go back and tell him all about it. Only, I hadn’t had the chance, and now I found him here, and he still knew more than I did.

“I do,” he answered, surprising me. I waited for him to continue, and he did. He leaned toward me and said in a conspiring whisper, “It’s me.”

For a moment, I didn’t quite understand what he said, and when I did, I felt my eyes widen. “Why are you telling me this?” I whisper back at him. It felt as if I should be whispering.

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his hard, green eyes. “Why, Ro, because we are friends,” he said, and I was sure it was mocking this time.

It made me want to cry. I decided then that I hated Aquila. It changed my Mom into somebody cold and sharp and hard. And then, I finally saw Tiernan again—he was partly why I wanted to return to Sarsen so badly—and he had also changed into somebody cold and sharp and hard. It felt like the people I knew and loved were gone, and I stared at an warped illusion instead. It made me suddenly feel very lonely.

He lifted me to face him with a long, slender finger under my chin. “We’re friends, aren’t we, Ro?” he asked. He sounded cold, though, and uncaring of my answer.

No, this wasn’t the Tiernan I knew. Maybe I never really knew Tiernan. After all, I hadn’t seen him since I was eight, and childhood memories were always said to be sweet. “If you wish, Talent Kae,” I replied instead.

“Why don’t you call me Tiernan?” he asked me quietly, as if it were the answer to some puzzle.

I looked away from his thoughtful green eyes. I couldn’t stand the way he was looking at me, like I was some spell or the sweater waiting to be unravelled. “You asked me to call you Talent Kae,” I replied. It wasn’t the answer—that Talent Kae suited him like a well-tailored suit now and Tiernan seemed like a child’s toy he had already broken and cast away—but he seemed to accept it.

“What if I asked you to call me Tiernan?”

I looked up at him, wondering at the meaning behind his eyes, as flat as broken glass bottles. “It would be disrespectful of me.”

“Rowana...” My name sounded foreign the way it rolled of his tongue. He stood up then, and came right up to me. His cloak was an even darker shade than the shadows. He pulled me up with his hands on my arms. They didn’t hurt, though, when I followed their guidance and stood up. One of his slim fingers pulled at a loose tress of my hair. “Beautiful like the Sarsen dust,” he murmured.

I didn’t know if he meant for me to hear it. My hair was like the Sarsen dust—had always been like it. Mother said it was because I watched too many Sarsen sunrises and ate too many Sarsen pheasants. But it would always be too dull and tangled to be beautiful. I didn’t know what he was trying to do and tried to pull away from him.

I didn’t have anywhere to go, though, standing between him and the chair. So, I turned my head to look at the big grandfather clock. Its hands crawled slowly towards nine o’clock.

His fingers trailed down my cheek and turned my chin to look at him again. They trailed down to hold me by my neck and I shivered. His fingers were so cold they tingled. He was still so much taller than me, and carried himself more like the majestic prince I had always imagined to be his secret identity when were both little.

But his eyes... I couldn’t stand looking in his eyes. They weren’t a prince’s eyes, and they made him a stranger to me. I looked down at his golden cloak clasp instead. I felt naked wearing a thin white dress when he was clad in a heavy black cloak and thick black boots. “It’s late, Talent Kae,” I said quietly, relieved that I kept the quiver out of my voice. “If you would excuse me, I must go rest.”

His hand dropped then, and he stepped away from me. “You’re so beautiful now,” he said cryptically. “But you’ve become so cold and distant.”

I had no reply, but he didn’t seem to need one. “Alright, then, Miss Craine, our lessons begin tomorrow. Best be well prepared.”

---

For the first time in many years, I took out the little purple pouch from the bottom of my trunk. In it was my last baby tooth that the tooth fairy had forgotten to take. It, at least, was still the same.

I didn’t sleep well that night. I had a dream that a demon had possessed Tiernan, and it came to hunt me down with cruel, laughing eyes. I woke up gasping and found the covers wrapped too tightly around me for comfort.

I hadn’t been able to go back to sleep for the rest of the night. When dawn crept into the room, I decided to get up and wash the tiredness from my eyes. I picked a fresh white dress and tied it with a gold sash, and looked identical to my reflection yesterday. My stomach was painfully eager for breakfast, but I hesitated, because Tiernan had promised to teach me magic after breakfast.

Still, the meeting with Tier—Talent Kae was unavoidable. So, I entered the main dining area where all the students from Lancer’s Academy ate together. It felt right, although less noise than usual floated down to the main entrance where I stood; some were still mourning Talent Issaka’s passing.

I almost took my usual seat, the far end of a table filled with boisterous Untalented students. Other than an occasional greeting, most of them ignored me, and I had eaten there in peace. When I approached them this morning, though, they gave me looks. Some of them jabbed their forks into the air between me and them to further highlight that I was no longer welcomed there, if I ever was.

I moved on, then, to the other half of the room, where more students chose silence over chatter. I felt strange, wandering amongst those strangers in black, for mourning, when I wore lily white, to show my inexperience and ignorance in the Talent. They didn’t stare too much, though, and most ignored me. Finally, I sat down near the end of one of the tables that weren’t too crowded.

Breakfast was eggs, milk, and toast this morning. My toast was already a little cold, and the butter wouldn’t melt on it properly because I had come down to breakfast later than recommended. I wondered if there was a simple spell to reheat toast, but I knew that I was getting ahead of myself. And besides, Talent should not be wasted so frivolously, especially when they were in such short supply. Still, it would have been nice to fill my anxious stomach with warm toast.

“Hello, Rowana,” somebody said from across from me.

I look up. “Dane!” I had had classes with Dane, before they discovered his Talent, and we had been friends. He had been shorter than me, then, but judging by the width of his shoulders, he was probably at least half a head taller than me.

His brown eyes lit up. “You remember me!”

“Of course.” I didn’t know why he sounded surprised. He had been one of the few friends I ever had. “How are you?”

“Doing well, considering the circumstances,” he answers a bit grimly before brightening up again. He leans towards me and whispers, “You have a rogue as your teacher.”

I knew that already and didn’t need any more patronizing or snide remarks about my “unorthodox” teacher. I just nod to him, though.

Then, he grins, “Well, do teach me if he teaches you any special tricks.”

I looked at him for a moment before I managed to answer, “I can’t.” At his hurt expression, I hastened to explain, “I can’t tell what’s ‘special’ and what’s not since I don’t know what you are learning.”

Dane hummed and took a bite of his breakfast and I followed suit. Then, he asked, “So, what’s your area of specialty?”

“What?” I didn’t understand his question.

“You know,” he waved his fork in the air and it glittered. “What are you good at? Which test or tests did you pass?”

“Oh, I can’t do anything but scry,” I answered before picking at my food again. The eggs had been overcooked this morning, and I picked at the very dark brown patches.

“Wow!” It was Dane’s loud exclaimation that brought my attention back to him. “We haven’t had a seer in ages!” he continued. “They usually come into their power earlier, you know. Like at thirteen or fourteen, but they say that seers are the opposite of mages and that the later they come into their powers, the stronger they are. So, what did you see?”

I shifted uncomfortably under his direct gaze. “Just myself with Talent Kae,” I mumbled. It hadn’t felt special when the plain image had rippled over the water the way my reflection would have.

Dane smiled lopsidedly then, a good-natured smile, and reached across the table to pat me on the arm. “No wonder they’re tutoring you privately.”

But I didn’t see any reason they handed me to Talent Kae besides that we seemed to be the only two with Talents who didn’t have the Emperor’s Spell. It was only luck—I have yet to decide good or bad—that Talent Kae now tutored me privately, and had nothing to do with my Talent at all. Still, I saw Dane’s conviction and decided not to correct his misconception.

“So you know...” Apparently, Dane wasn’t done yet. I tried to remember if he had been this talkative when we had last known each other, but his face was a bit blurry in my mind. I couldn’t remember how he had acted at all. “Does Talent Kae know who broke the wards?”

I nodded. I remember him answering my all-important question last night about who broke the wards.

“Well, who is it?” Dane asked.

“I...” I shook my head then, to clear my thoughts. I swore he had told me who broke the ward, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember who it was anymore. You’d think I would remember such an important piece of information, but I had always been forgetful. “I don’t know.”

Dane sighed, and leaned down onto his hands on the table. “Well, I didn’t expect him to tell you, anyways, but it was worth a try. It’s the mystery right now, you know?”

I nodded, and picked some more at my breakfast when the bell rang, a ten minute warning for the first class. Students and Talents started to stand up and leave. Dane waved a little goodbye before standing up. “I’ll introduce you to my friends next time,” he offered before leaving.

I just nodded, but his back was already to me then so I don’t think he saw me. The breakfast was hopeless anyways; the toast had also been too burnt and the eggs were thoroughly brown. I gave up on it and decided that I might as well prepare myself to see Tiernan—Talent Kae. There was nothing to be done about my white dress, but I thought I’d do my hair up at least.

---

I had tied my hair into a tight bun as a futile attempt to tame it. Strands of it still fell out, though, and kept on tickling my face. Magic wasn’t messy, per se, but there was something about dabbling in something entirely new that made me want to prepare myself. At least, I’d be able to see clearly... if my hair would only stop falling out of the bun.

Ti... Talent Kae didn’t look any smaller by daylight. He seemed more ominous, actually, with a much sharper contrast between his shadowy cloak and the dismal daylight. In fact, if my mind were taken with flights of fantasy, I would have said that his cloak took away the sunlight and cheerfulness that we sorely needed after everything that had happened.

And this... dismalness was part of the Talent Kae that was I slowly starting to get to know. He was like a twisted nightmare of a reflection of the boy I had once known, inexplicably handsome instead of plainly lovable, sinister instead of mischievous, and cutting instead of witty.

“I’m here, Talent Kae, for the lessons,” I said to his back in a small voice, torn between letting him ignore me and learning magic as I ought to be doing.

He turned around slowly, his cloak remaining silent swirl of darkness, and he didn’t seem at all surprised to see me. “There will be no lessons,” he announced, though only to me.

It took me a moment to understand what he said, enough time for him have strode halfway across the room—and that much close to the door to the room. And to me.

“What do you mean?” I managed.

He stilled, then, and looked at me, green eyes shadowed by long, dark eyelashes. “You have no Talent.”

I stared at him some more before answering, “But I would not be here if I had no Talent. Talent Diesus checked for us himself.”

He smiled beatifically, then, as if I had walked into a trap instead of clearing up the matter. “Talent Diesus couldn't make an illusion, of course, because he was bound by his Emperor's Spell. So, he assumed that the magic for the image in the scrying pan came from you.”

“It was you, who put the image there, then.” I was finally beginning to understand.

“It wasn't very difficult.” He took a smooth step toward me, as if bringing the shadows with his cloak. “It wasn't difficult at all imagine you grown up, with flowers surrounding you. Although, now that I've met you again, I think daggers might have been more appropriate.”

“Oh...” I hadn't seen flowers in the scrying pan, though; I had seen him, as he stood now, and me standing by his side.

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Magic in Aquila

Fantasy Romance

Rowana's mother brought her from their little village of Sarsen to the capital, Aquila, to study at the prestigious Lancer's Academy, despite that Rowana is Untalented and Lancer's caters to Talented students. When the wards around Aquila fall, though, and Rowana discovers she is Talented, she is pulled into a treasonous plot against the emperor himself.

---

Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two

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Magic in Aquila - Chapter One

We all just stand there, small and slumped over under the weight of the grayness of the sky.

I have never seen Talent Issaka and know of him only by his marble statue in the library courtyard. Talent Issaka acted as the High Talent at the academy when he had was alive and his half of the academy kept him busy. I stay in the other half of the academy, the half within the Aquilan wards where magic is prohibited. Though, I don’t think that the wards existed anymore.

I haven’t seen his face today either, because it’s a closed casket funeral with little, white stralie flowers strewn everywhere in honor of his title as Talent. Only a few people saw Talent Issaka after his death, other Talents from the academy and important people investigating the situation, and they decided that the body should remain hidden.

When the coffin thuds six feet below ground, my cloak suddenly feels damp and scratchy. Water and mildew hang in the air. My head itches, but I worry that the priest's black, beady eyes would turn on me if I moved, even if I’m waiting with over five hundred other students from the academy.

Boryk stands to my right, a pale, earnest boy, with his cloak whipping about him as if it might bring him away from all this sorrow. Saaria stands to my left, straight and tall and still, but I can see the shimmer in her coffee-brown eyes. They are both Talented students and have taken lessons from Talent Issaka himself.

I wonder if my mother would read of this in the newspaper, but she has cared very little for newspapers since we had moved to Aquila. She’s more likely to hear it sitting in one of her friends' sun-shaded living rooms. Oh, Talent Issaka was the High Talent at Lancer's, mom might remember, or she might not. She has cared very little for Talents since we moved to Aquila; it was sudden and strange, moving to Aquila.

We used to live in Sarsen. It’s boring and dusty and exists only to grow klang, a kind of drug to stimulate the Talent. It’s a lazy village, where I would climb down from the tree for dinner when I smelled beef stew or roasted pork. Then, on that summer night, mother set down a letter she just received, stood up, and told me, "Ro, you are going to Lancer's."

I was eight, I remember, because I had just lost my last baby tooth, and I worried how the tooth fairy would give me my money on a train. When I actually arrived at Lancer's, it was night, and I still remember the whispered creaking of the gate as it opened just for me, and the sharp, unbroken tap-taps of the shoes of the man who led me to my bed. I clutched his cold, waxy hand only because my mother had left me with him. I couldn't see his face very well—there weren't very many candles lit—but I remember his dark, silent cloak, because mom would never wear something so somber.

Eight years have passed since then. I still miss my mother's beef stew. Sometimes, I want to tell my mother that I don't want to go to Lancer's anymore; I have no Talent anyways, and though Lancer’s also takes Untalented students like me, their main programs are for the Talented students. Then, I would remember how back at Sarsen, late at night, I would wake up to her flickering shadow, trying to find a way to give a better education.

"Your father would want you taught properly," Mom told me once with a faint smile that she wore whenever she remembered father, when I had said that I didn't care about learning. "But I don't have very much to teach you."

I think that my mother believed that my father was alive, then.

Maybe she believes it still—they have not found his body—but I doubt it. She hasd become a beautiful diamond, cold and hard and sharp in elegant shades of gray, since she left the house in Sarsen where she had lived with father and came to Aquila. She never smiles or cooks or hums anymore. Instead, she sparkles correctly for her friends in society. I think she must have loved my father very much.

---

Talent Issaka died trying to hold up the ward.

They say that Talent Issaka had the strongest Talent of anybody in the Empire and so he took it upon himself to defend the ward when it came crashing down. It crushed him anyways.

Why the ward fell in the first place was anybody's guess. There are rumors, of course; there were always rumors. Some said that the Dark King has risen, that the great dragons are displeased, that a sliver of the sun has fallen through, or something as dramatic and outlandish. All the rumors agree, though, that there is magic in Aquila, although sometimes it’s unclear whether the Talent entered before the ward broke—and caused it to break—or after, when the ward had already broken.

It’s odd to think of magic in Aquila. All I can imagine are Talent-warmed streets during winter and fire shows in the summer, but I doubt that anybody who took the effort to force magic into Aquila would use it so frivolously. Still, people I know who are Talented never talk much about what they do in the other half of the school beyond the ward, and left to my own devices, I can imagine nothing more exciting than fire shows or more useful than warmth.

As for the fallen ward, some people think it has disappeared, as failed magic are wont to. Some people think that it has reformed itself without any major damage, as old magic are wont to. Nobody knows for sure, not even the Talents, incapacitated as they are by their Emperor’s Spell.

I have only ever lived in the half of Lancer's lit by sunshine and candlelight, but they say that in the other half, darkness reigns. Without magic, the Talents have no light and do not remember candles. They lose themselves in the labyrinth of their own academy. Things transfigured remain transfigured, and things shrunken remain shrunken and useless. At least the kitchen is for the entire academy and has no need of magic, or we would surely all starve to death.

The lack of magic is due to, of course, the ward falling and triggering its last trap to inhibit the magic of anybody with the Emperor's Spell, which is any Talent in the Empire, from performing magic. The fact that it has activated was another point of controversy. It proves that the ward no longer exists and therefore the spell is actively prohibiting the Talents from performing magic, or it proves that the ward still existed and was supporting that last spell and therefore the Talents cannot perform magic.

I hear that we were running out of bread in Aquila—here, in the capital!—because nobody knows how to transport bread without magic. I never liked bread anyways.

---

We all shuffled inside after the wind carried away the last words of the priest and the first raindrops had begun to splatter and darken the ground. It might shower for two minutes or pour for two hours. That was Aquilan winter. A quiet buzzing surrounded me, although both Boryk and Saaria remained in their sunken silence.

I stood with all the Untalented students, waiting in line, as the Talented ones disappeared behind the warded—or at least used to be warded—stone door. They could eat or sleep now that the ceremony was over—or grieve, if they had known Talent Issaka personally. The rest of us stood and waited for another hour or two or three, on tired feet and worn-out patience, to be tested for "undiscovered Talent."

After any sort of upheaval in Aquila, they would test each of us. It was all very perfunctory and useless. In this case, what they really wanted to find was people unencumbered by the Emperor's Spell. If they had enough people and if they taught these students fast enough, perhaps Aquila might not tumble into total disrepair. Of course, they were also searching for the person who caused the ward to crash in the first place.

"Try to light the candle," Talent Diesus, the Talent overseeing new Talented students, asked of me.

I couldn't, of course.

"Try to move the feather."

The feather sat serenely on the bare wooden table.

"Look into the scrying pan."

I looked. Those who were talented would sometimes see true visions. The rest of us saw whatever the examiner chose to put there. This time, the examiner put an image of me with a man, with robes as dark as his hair and green, glittering eyes. I told him what I saw.

He smiled then and I felt uneasy. "Rowana Craine?"

I nodded hesitantly.

"You are Talented."

I stared at him, for longer than necessary. "But I'm not."

"You saw yourself with a Talent, or your future as a Talent."

"But you put that vision there, Talent Diesus," I felt obligated to point out.

He shook his head. "I couldn't have; I am bound by my Emperor's Spell."

---

All Talented students began with general classes, of course, and there were usually twenty or thirty students in each class. Students who wanted to disappear strove to be average and those who wanted attention were the best, or failing that, the worst. I thought that I would be average... or maybe the worst, since it was already months into the school year and even the raw beginners had had practice.

It turned out that I was overly worried. They had already found a Talent to teach me. When Talent Diesus told me of this, I had thought that they had meant a tutor to help me catch up—what he had meant was that I would be tutored separately. I wanted to tell Talent Diesus that I wouldn't mind having to catch up with classes, but I didn't, because it was such a privilege to have a tutor early on; most students only received one-on-one training their last year or two.

"You should appreciate this," Talent Diesus warned me with a disapproving brow. "Talent Kae is not even a graduate of this school, but we had none to spare to teach a new Talented student, with everything that has happened. We found him to tutor you only because you are the only one with Talent we have found unbound by the Emperor’s Spell."

I nodded quietly and kept my eyes on the rug.

"Make sure you listen to Talent Kae," he continued. "But don't lose your common sense. Talent Kae is known for unconventional methods; he never underwent formal training."

I looked up sharply at him and looked away quickly. He had surprised me, by telling me that he didn't completely approve of Talent Kae. Of course, one school of magic never quite approved of another—and Talent Kae was rogue, but Talent Diesus insinuated that Talent Kae was not only unconventional, but sometimes uncaring of the consequences of his actions.

"Yes, Talent Diesus," I promised.

He smiled wanly. "Don't let his charm blind you the way it did Princess Sophia."

"Yes, Talent Diesus."

---

I stared at myself in the mirror for a long time the next morning before I went downstairs to pledge myself to High Talent Kae. My white dress was tied simply with a golden sash. I had never thought that I could miss a color, but symbolism was everything to the Talents, and only those with raw, unformed Talent could wear white.

I wondered if I was still a student at Lancer's Academy. Talent Diesus had not asked me to pack or leave, so I assumed that I would still occupy my room. But I was not pledging myself as a student to Talent Linnings, acting High Talent of the academy. Instead, I was pledging myself to Talent Kae, a rogue Talent. I wondered if I was his first student... if he would have other students.

After a final tug on my dress, I put on my cloak and realized that I was running late. I hurried through the corridors, my white satin slippers pattering along with the raindrops outside.

In front of the alder door, I paused. I looked at the carving on the door of the dragons first giving Jenoi the Talent, and I had an inane thought that maybe I could run back to Sarsen with my mother. Nobody could track us; nobody could use magic. To this day, I still don't know why I hadn't run away.

But I did push open the door. I was actually quite proud of how calmly I stepped inside. Nervousness churned in my stomach so that I could barely focus on anything I saw. Two Talents stood inside, one of them Talent Diesus, and I focused my attention on him. All that I knew of the other Talent was an impression of height and shadows hidden in his cloak. That was how I saw Talent Kae.

Then, I knelt down in front of him to pledge myself. Did I come of my freewill? Yes, I come of my freewill. Would I do my best to learn? Yes, I will do my best to learn. And to serve His Majesty, the emperor? Yes, and to serve His Majesty, the emperor. And so on and so forth the questions and the answers came. I never felt anything more than a sore knee, or maybe it was because nobody could actually perform magic.

After the pledge, I hesitated before I stood up, and when I did and I saw the face that the shadows had hidden, I found myself immobile. The dark hair. The green eyes. But his little, lost smile—how I had remembered him—had disappeared.

Talent Diesus waited patiently until I finally found my voice. "Tiernan...?"

Talent Diesus cut me a glare for my disrespect to a Talent, and I suppose, for embarrassing him. Tiernan's green eyes narrowed a bit at me before he let out a dark chuckle.

"Talent Kae, I ap—"

With a wave, Talent Kae cut off Talent Diesus's apology. "Yes, Rowana." Somehow, I found his steady gaze unsettling. "But you must call me Talent Kae now."

I nodded numbly.

"Follow me." He turned with an impressive swirl of his dark cloak. I felt loud and clumsy stumbling after his gliding shadow. "You have things to learn."

The alder door creaked a little before slamming shut behind us. I used both hands to pick up my cloak and my dress so I could catch up with Tiernan's long strides.

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Magic in Aquila - Prologue

Tiernan didn't have a mother.

He didn't have a father, either, but everybody knew that. But Rowana believed that he stayed at home all day, watering the vegetables or dusting the rooms, because his mother asked him to.

Of course, Tiernan dusted, as best as he could, which meant that he never quite reached the top shelf of the bookcase. He did the laundry when he needed to and he cooked, occasionally, but only so that the fowl no longer oozed red. Mostly, when he stayed home, he practiced his Talent.

It was a weary lifestyle, even Tiernan admitted, but he had to learn to control his Talent by himself. No Talent ever passed through the dusty village of Sarsen, much less to stay and teach, and Tiernan refused to leave Sarsen. Besides, he liked Rowana's company.

Rowana was a Sarsen girl, with hair the color of Sarsen dust and eyes like the clear Sarsen sky. She and her mother lived next to Tiernan, in a cottage as small as his.

Rowana stayed home a lot in the winters, and sometimes Tiernan wished she would stay outside and bear the cold with him instead of warming her hands in front of the fireplace with her mother. Sometimes, though, Rowana's mother would invite him to dinner and he could pretend, for a while, that she was his mother and he was eating a family dinner. More often than not, though, he had to decline and pretend that his mother wanted him with her.

But in summer, the days were long. When the air was too hot and the wind too lazy, Rowana's mother didn't really care anymore what Rowana did with herself, and Tiernan played with Rowana every night in the summers. Tiernan would think, This is what it would have been like if my parents had wanted me; I would've had a little sister like Ro.

One night nearing the end of summer, when the full moon hid behind the blackened clouds, a terrible anxiety took hold of Tiernan. He asked Rowana, "Promise you'll always come over and play?"

Rowana had looked at him strangely and made a hole in the dirt with her finger. "Of course. Why not?"

Tiernan looked at her and then away just as quickly. "Promise me you'll stay."

Rowana grinned, showing a gap where she had lost her last baby tooth. "Of course I will."

Tiernan had thought that Rowana was in earnest, then. She must have been. She was eight and too young for artifice like that. But whether Rowana meant her promise or not, that was the last time she came over and played with him.

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Elemental Desire - Chapter Two

Losana wandered around the empty apartment listlessly. She found herself wishing that she had signed up for a class like Emily had, though probably not three hours of modern and ballet dancing everyday. An introductory painting class or a job might be nice, though. Losana couldn't imagine that standing in front of a cash register in Duane Reade would be duller than sitting at home aimlessly and listening to the radio replay the same summer love songs over and over again.

Originally, she had expected to practice her magic over the summer, since the school year always seemed to be impossibly busy. Besides, Sylvia never strayed too far from her apartment—certainly not as far as her university—and she needed the air elemental's guidance to control her magic. She had considered finding a human teacher when she had first discovered her magic, but she had never quite found a way to broach the subject with anybody. Besides, Sylvia seemed to know more than any human could, anyways.

But Losana hadn't had any contact with Sylvia in the last week and a half, not even a gentle breeze ruffling her hair. She had felt the vague presence of the fire elemental, but she had never made its acquaintance formally and she would have felt awkward approaching it without Sylvia.

Losana sighed as the radio played another advertisement for some auto insurance or other. She blamed her utter boredom, among other things, on one Teagan N., who had intruded on her life.

The first couple of days after his visit—and abrupt departure—Losana had kept wary, eying the shadows and peeking into rooms before entering. Honestly, she hadn't believed that he would leave so docilely after his blatant aggressiveness, and had expected to find him hovering around the apartment unseen. She had looked for his gray eyes and had half-expected to smell his scent in her room, where he had last held—grabbed her.

But he wasn't there. He was never there, and Losana felt something strangely akin to disappointment. In the last few days, Losana had finally given up the idea that there was a man lurking, unseen, in the hidden corners of her apartment.

And boredom had replaced her wariness, because although she knew that Teagan was not in the apartment, Sylvia hadn't returned either. None of the air elementals had.

---

When Sylvia finally reappeared, she was such a faint shimmer in the air that Losana almost didn't notice. In fact, she wouldn't have if she hadn't been looking for Sylvia this whole time.

"Sylvia, I've missed you," Losana said. "Life's been so boring without you."

Sylvia smiled and flitted around until she was out of the shadows and almost entirely opaque, with only the faint, blurred glow of sunlight shining through her, making her glitter like something saintly. "I did not think that you would appreciate excitement after the recent happenings."

“It’s been two very boring weeks.” Losana plopped down on the sofa. "So when can you teach me magic?"

Sylvia flew in a circle around Losana before answering, "I can't."

"What? Why not?"

"I..." Sylvia began to answer but she made a little worried frown and stopped. "You should ask the Nusquamesse to teach you."

Losana furrowed her brows. "'The Nusquamesse'...?” The she remembered the man who had plagued her thoughts for the entire last week and a half. “Oh! You mean Teagan."

Sylvia made another circle around Losana's head. "Yes, the Nusquamesse. Ask him. I cannot teach you anymore."

"Wh—" Losana began to ask, but the air had already smoothed out where Sylvia had been so that the sunlight can through the window unfiltered. She could call to Sylvia, because Sylvia could never truly leave this place, but if Sylvia didn't want to talk anymore of the subject, she wouldn't.

---

Losana stood in front of her neighbor's door, two doors down. Polished wood, painted in a smooth, dark chocolate color like any other door in the building. But this one felt different. It hadn't felt different from the other apartments when Grandpa Jerry was living there, but Grandpa Jerry had moved out to Long Island to live with his daughter and grandchildren, and Teagan Nusquamesse had moved into it—two doors down from her apartment.

She took a deep breath. She wasn't doing anything weird. First of all, she was just visiting a neighbor. A new neighbor. She was giving a friendly neighborly welcome and all that like nice, kind people ought to do. She even had a warm apple pie as her alibi. So what if she was going to ask him about magic? Sylvia had told her to ask him, and he himself had talked about magic (even though a very large part of her mind was more inclined to simply think that she had imagined that).

Knock... knock, knock.

There, she knocked. She took a deep breath and forced herself not to smooth her white, summer skirt or tug at the strands of her blow-dried hair. She was welcoming him with an apple pie, not herself.

The door opened immediately. Teagan stood at the entryway, in a shirt and dress pants. There weren't any shoes covering his large, bare feet, though. His mouth widened slowly in a smile that reminded Losana why she had been so unsettled every time she remembered him. "It's good to see you visiting." And oh, his voice... a low rumble like the distant thunder. "Is that pie for me?"

Losana thought that she could just stand there and look at him and listen to him talk forever.

"Or should I be jealous that you've made pie for somebody else?"

"Oh, um..." Losana kicked herself mentally for spacing out like that. She might be asking Teagan for help, but she couldn't—mustn’t—forget that he could be dangerous. If nothing else, he knew magic better than she did. And then there was always his sheer size and strength. "Apple pie. I Baked. At home." She paused before deciding to make another attempt at coherent, complete sentences. "But you're probably going out now because you're all dressed up so I won't bother you anymore and you can just have the pie and I'll visit some other time." She didn't think that that sentence was any more coherent.

She held out the pie to him, and was embarrassed to find that her hands were shaking and that she couldn't quite look at him and stared instead at a pretty onyx colored button on his black silk—it looked like silk, at least—shirt. He was just a neighbor, so she didn't know why her hands should be shaking. When large warm hands gently closed over hers, though, she was startled into looking up at Teagan and his gray eyes. She had forgotten that he had gray eyes. She hadn't thought she would.

"Do come in and share the pie with me," he invited. He sounded gentle and his hands were already pulling her into his apartment.

Losana let herself be glided by his hands. She could see the minimalist furniture, made of sharp glass and black steel, decorating his house. There were no flowers or plants or pets. Just a giant black and white abstract painting hanging on the biggest wall, a harsh version of those pretty hotel decorations and framed in cold, gleaming metal framing. This is who he is, Losana reminded herself.

The door clicked shut, then, and Losana felt a moment of panic before she reminded herself sternly that it was still broad daylight. And that Sylvia had told her to come to Teagan, and she trusted Sylvia. She noticed that Teagan had already set out two black, ceramic plates and placed a slice of pie on each. He pulled out a seat for Losana at the table in the kitchen and then placed himself next to her.

"Why are you here?" Teagan asked her just as she bit into the slice of apple pie.

She chewed it slowly, when she found Teagan's gray eyes trained on her. When she swallowed her bite, she told him, "Have some pie. Everybody says that my apple pies are good. I came to welcome you with an apple pie."

He blinked slowly before carefully cutting off a piece of the pie with his fork and placing it in his mouth. He chewed it slowly, keeping his eyes on her the whole time. "Indeed, you make a very good apple pie, but I don't believe that you came here to bring me a pie."

Losana fidgeted, but she figured she would have to ask him sooner or later, and it was probably better sooner. She swallowed the apple pie in her mouth with a gulp that sat uncomfortably at her throat. “Would you teach me survainer magic?”

For a moment, Teagan remained impassive. Losana resisted the urge to dash out the door out of sheer embarrassment. Honestly, nobody talked of magic as if it were real, and “survainer” magic? He probably thought she was mentally unstable and liked to play at pretend.

But the next moment, he gave her a slow, steady smile filled with white, gleaming teeth, as if he had been waiting for her to ask exactly that even before she had knocked on his door. Losana gulped and stared at her pie, wondering if she had made a mistake in trusting Sylvia. Sylvia could have different values than her, after all, considering that they were not off the same... kind of beings.

When Losana glanced up, she found that Teagan had put down his fork and leaned forward. His eyes were swirling like mercury and so completely focused on her that she couldn't pull her gaze away a second time.

“I'll teach you magic,” he promised—it sounded like either a promise or a threat and Losana would prefer for it to be a promise. “But I won't teach you survainer magic.”

---

“Call an elemental,” Teagan said as she sunk into the black leather sofa. His voice drifted from somewhere behind her.

“But...” Losana didn't know why exactly why she was objecting, so she stopped her objections. Still, she had expected him to start her on long-winded theories or some tedious background or at least ask her how much she knew of magic. “Which elemental?” she asked, instead.

“Any.” Teagan's voice came from to her right, and she turned to glance at him, but he was a blurred shadow in front of the bright sunlight that streamed through the buildings from outside the window.

So, instead, Losana closed her eyes and shifted more comfortably in the sofa. After a moment, she opened her eyes, though, and said, “But, there aren't any elementals here.”

“Hmm...?” Teagan sounded distracted, from right behind her again. She turned to look at him, only to find that his gray eyes were completely focused her. “Just try.”

“Alright,” Losana acquiesced doubtfully. She only agreed because she had asked him for the favor of teaching her. So, she felt she needed to listen to him. She closed her eyes again, and felt her heart pounding unreasonably in her chest. When she finally took her attention off of her racing heart, all she could hear was the silence of the apartment, with a pre-war building's thick walls and double pane soundproof windows. Even Teagan's breathing was so quiet that she could only hear her own breaths rise and fall overly loudly.

Slowly, Losana forced herself to find that strand of magic that was usually always so close to the surface. This time, though, she had to coax it out, and let its warmth flow out carefully, as if it were a tiny flame that could be blown out at any moment. Even when her magic surrounded her, though, she couldn't sense any elementals in the area. Still, maybe Teagan just wanted to see how she called elementals in the first place, so she opened a little more.

Hello? She asked tentatively, feeling as if she walked into a conference room after the meeting was long over. I—

Suddenly, she felt something slam into her. It was black and stifling and it wrapped around her oppressively. She tried to open her eyes, then, but they weren't listening to her. Then, she tried to scream, but no sound came out. She pushed at it with her magic, but it was like a wet towel and became heavier as it drained her of the magic that she pushed at it.

Then, tendrils of it started drifting into her. She didn't know how it was happening or how she knew that it was happening, but she could feel them, tens or hundreds of little tendrils sneaking into her and going to the deepest parts of her. They were making holes in her own magic and getting more and more tangled and tight as she tried to push them out.

Get out! Losana shouted mentally, because she couldn't hear anything in the stifling dark silence of her mind, but she had never felt anything like this, neither the utter, sudden, desperate helplessness nor the pain as if somebody had plunged their hand inside of her and started squeezing her organs.

It's too late now, Teagan's cool voice flowed into her. Just let it in. His voice soothed her until she was just calm enough to understand what he had said.

No, Losana rebelled, and pushed at the strands of invasive magic with renewed fervor, but as before, it absorbed her magic. Only this time, the frightening burning pain redoubled and spread out to her arms and legs. She felt the proverbial hammer pounding on her head just before she fainted into painlessness.

---

Losana came awake slowly, rising through the layers of warmth that surrounded her. They weren't the uncomfortable, sweaty heat of summer as her sluggish mind had expected, but something softer. The warmth that surrounded her wasn't physical at all.

With that thought, she jerked awake and sat up too quickly. She was in an airy room, with sunlight brightening the clean, white walls. The covers, too, were white... and most definitely not hers. When she looked around once more, she found Teagan, sitting in the chair so still that she had missed him the first time around. His eyes, though, were fixed on her firmly.

Losana tightened her grip on blanket and fought not to pull back. There was nowhere for her to go, and it would only make her fear apparent. She didn't know what had happened, exactly, or what Teagan wanted, but from what she remembered, she thought she ought to stay alert.

“I'm not going to hurt you,” Teagan said, as if he could read her thoughts.

Losana relaxed her grip on the blankets for a moment before she gripped them hard again, so that her knuckles were white. “Because you already did?”

She could swear that Teagan's light gray eyes flattened for a moment in displeasure, making his beautiful face awful and terrifyingly inhuman. If they did, though, it was gone in the next moment. Losana forced herself to breathe normally. Even if she were alone with him in his apartment and her survainer magic would be of no help, she still had her wits about her. Besides, Sylvia knew where she was, and Sylvia would find a way to help her if she didn't go back to her apartment soon. She hoped, at least.

“I did not hurt you,” Teagan said, and Losana wanted to believe him. “You hurt yourself.”

“So, those... things... they were from you.”

Teagan nodded, and Losana felt disappointed. She had wanted him to say no, she supposed, and would even have tried to believe him, because Sylvia had trusted him. And because he had such mesmerizing gray eyes. In the movies, beautiful people were always good people.

“Why?”

“You shouldn't leave yourself open to attacks like that, and once you are attacked, you should not have struggled as you did.”

“I've never gotten attacked before!” Losana exclaimed. “You were the first and only, and only because I asked you to teach me magic. You could have at least warned me—or better yet, taught me how to defend against something like that before you just went at it.”

“Now you know.”

Losana stared at him in utter disbelief for a moment before pointing out, “Yes, but I still don't know how to defend against that.”

“You would—”

“I don't want to hear it,” Losana cut him off. She felt the hot heat of anger slowly burn away the fatigue from fear, and frustrated enough that her eyes were stinging with tears. “I'm not going to ask you to 'teach' me anymore magic.”

“Who will you ask? Sylvia won't teach you. None of those elementals will.”

Losana paused. Who would she ask? “I'm sure you're not the only one who knows magic,” she answered him anyways. The only other person she knew who knew magic was Charles. Still, she thought she’d rather have wild magic than to ask Teagan for help again.

---

Losana wiped her hands on the pale green towel absently. Her boredom had driven her into doing the dishes by hand instead of using the dishwasher. Besides, her parents were both away on business trips. Emily had left two days ago with a blue duffel bag for her dance competition and wasn’t due back until another two days.

Losana had had a plan when she had left Teagan, she reflected sourly. It was just a very poorly contrived plan. She had planned to find somebody else who knew magic and ask them to teach her. Or she would teach herself through experimentation.

However, she had had trouble finding anybody to teach her. After the abduction, Losana had resolved to avoid Charles and his men at all costs. She could think of no way of knowing if somebody knew magic either, unless she attacked random strangers on the streets to see who could defend themselves. Well, she didn’t know how to attack people and she didn’t want to cause others the pain she had suffered. Besides, she didn’t think the person would be very much inclined to teach her after getting attacked, even supposing she found some such person.

She tried to teach herself magic, then, but when she prodded her magic, she could feel a twinge of rawness and pain going from her chest out to her limbs. It wasn’t particularly painful, but when she tried to untangle her magic from those slimy black tendrils and pull it out, the debilitating pain from when Teagan had attacked her would return. It felt like she was tearing her organs to little pieces. She would double over and take deep breaths to calm herself with her familiar room spinning around her. She never even managed to call her magic since that unfortunate meeting with Teagan.

Losana was angry at Teagan and fell into a pattern of fuming. Each time she failed to call her magic—which was every single time—she would sit, feeling bereft of magic. And she would get angry at Teagan for somehow chasing away Sylvia, for tricking her into getting attacked, and for the pain. She’d get all worked up about it, but when she tried to remembered the pain without using her magic, she would only remember the soft comfort she had woken up to. She’d see Teagan in her mind and he’d have the most mercurial mercury eyes and the smoothest bass voice she’s ever heard. She’d sigh softly and smile to herself, and wonder what the big deal was about a little pain. Then, she would try to call her magic again, only to stop short when the littlest twinge of pain reminded her how much it had really hurt.

After several rounds of fuming, Losana had decided to do something useful instead. She had cleaned up the apartment, vacuumed it, made herself dinner, and then cleaned up after herself by doing the dishes. Now, she was fuming about this stupid fuming cycle that Teagan got her into.

All her miseries (which was really just boredom) was, after all, completely and wholly Teagan’s fault, and she amused herself by thinking up ways to avenge herself.

First, she thought she’d burn down his apartment, and wondered how shock and horror would look on his face, but she could only see his impassive face turned on her in her mind’s eye, with his gray eyes flat and demanding an explanation, and it frightened her more than she was willing to admit to herself. Then, she remembered that it would probably cause her apartment to burn down as well and so the plan wouldn’t work anyways. Then, she thought she’d go vandalize his apartment instead, complete with breaking furniture and painting the walls with graffiti. But, she realized, he might not care about his apartment at all. Or maybe he would just spend some money to get the walls repainted and buy the furniture again.

She’d have to do something drastic but subtle, Losana thought. She would find out his likes and dislikes and do something to destroy all the pleasures in his life. But though she thought she knew his personality quite well, she realized that she only knew some of what he could do, but not what he enjoyed doing, and to find out meant approaching him again. Well, a reconnaissance mission was in order, then.

The doorbell brought her away from her vengeful thoughts. Losana decided that the visitor could not have interrupted her on purpose, though, so she wouldn’t get mad at him. Unless it was Teagan, of course.

She realized her mistake the moment she opened her door. Six burly men stood outside, with day-old beards on their oily faces. They looked like clones of the other five who had kidnapped Emily over two long weeks ago. Losana didn’t know how she managed to forget Charles even in her anger towards Teagan. Teagan was only one man, after all, but Charles represented a whole organization.

She took one look at the twelve glassy eyes and tried to shut the door, but one of them wedged a foot inside before the door could shut. Another one, or maybe it was the same one, slid an arm through the opening and grabbed for Losana’s hand that was shutting the door. She jerked away in reflex and turned away from the opening, only to have them push the door wide open and stomp inside with dust clinging all over their gray, slumped suits and shoes that were badly in need of a polish.

“The doorman shouldn’t have let you in,” Losana stalled for time.

One of them laughed. “There were six of us and one of him. Just like how there are six of us now and one of you.”

All six of them took that as some cue to break out in cruel, broken laughter that frightened Losana into taking a step back.

“I’m not powerless,” she bluffed, as she wondered if she could endure the pain just this once and possibly beg Sylvia into helping her, despite Sylvia’s reservations. Or maybe she would call the fire elemental instead, who might not have the same restraints as Sylvia.

“Go for it then, little girl,” another one of them dared her.

They watched as Losana tried to coax her power to the surface, but as usual, there was that... sticky black thing tangled all around her own power and when she tried to separate her power from it, shocks of pain went through her. She stiffened, and forced herself not to curl up into a fetal position in front of them.

“See?” one of the said. Losana wasn’t sure if he was one of those who had talked before or not, and she didn’t really care. “We have enough magic to stop you from using yours.”

It’s not your magic, Losana wanted to yell at them, to take away that satisfied look in their beady eyes, but she realized it didn’t matter. What mattered was she couldn’t call her magic and they knew it.

One of them came towards her, then, with something black and clinking in his hands. It looked like a shackle, but the chain was too long. There was a large shackle on one end, and two little ones on the other. Then, Losana realized that the large shackle was for her neck and the little ones were for her wrists.

Her eyes widened and she took another two steps back, which she realized was a mistake by the gleeful sparks that lit up their eyes, and their maniacal grins. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Losana wondered where Charles found so many of these men or if he really had cloned them. She obviously couldn’t overpower them, she knew, so that left her only her disabled magic.

Her magic hurt every time she tried to get rid of the clingy, sliding black stuff, but what if she didn’t try to tear it away? She shuddered at the thought of purposely letting the remnants of Teagan’s attack course through her freely, but she would much prefer that than to be shackled and taken and the gods-knew-what by these men.

Still, she hesitated. To accept that black... thing clinging to her magic... To let it taint her... And in that moment of hesitation, they had already clinched the shackles shut on her. She tried to kick them, but they only hit her leg. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop the tears of pain. They jerked on the chain, and she felt as if her neck were snapping. She spun around, then, trying to keep them away, but they only laughed more.

In her panic, she pulled on her magic blindly, the tangled black stuff and all. It didn’t choke her magic as she thought it would. It didn’t try to mix into her magic, either. It simply wrapped around all her magic and slid through her naturally. It made her magic feel... fuller, somehow, and powerful, as her own magic never did by itself. She only savored the feeling for a moment before she wondered whom she should call. Sylvia might not answer, and she didn’t know the other elementals well enough to beg favors of them.

Her decision was taken away from her, though, when she heard a voice in her head. Are you in trouble?

It took Losana a moment to place the voice, deep and reverberating through her. It was Teagan’s voice, of course. She decided to worry about how he knew she was in trouble later. She didn’t worry about her fear of him hurting her, either, because... well, her gut feeling told her that if Teagan had truly meant her harm, she wouldn’t have been left spending so much time in boredom and being angry at him. So she answered mentally, hoping he could hear her, Yes. Can you help me? She hadn’t been able to keep the quiver of fear from leaking through.

The next moment, Losana felt the weight of the shackles replaced by a hand around her waist. She turned around to find Teagan standing behind her, immaculately dressed. His gray eyes swirled like pools of mercury, and face was so expressionless that she found herself shrinking away from him, too, but his hand felt as strong as the shackles it replaced and effectively stopped her from going anywhere.

Unfortunately, the six men didn’t seem intimidated. “Charlie was right,” one of them said, seeming pleased by Teagan’s appearance instead. “You are powerful. He just didn’t know that you had already bound an elemental to you.”

He’s not an elemental, Losana thought to herself, and wished he were. He might actually be able to save her, then. But all the elementals she knew appeared as wispy, translucent things and they never bothered doing anything human like eating or sleeping or renting an apartment. Therefore, Teagan was unfortunately solidly human, and though he was stronger than her, Charles must have sent many tricks with these six men. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to make them think that Teagan was more powerful than he was.

The wind picked up, then, seeming to ignore everything but the six men. They held onto each other and the wall and the fridge to stay still. “You’re just an air elemental,” one of the six men said, pulling out something from the pocket of his trouser. “That’s too easy.”

Losana looked at Teagan to see how he took that. She didn’t know quite what she had expected, but it certainly wasn’t the cruel smile he had lining his chiseled features that made Losana shudder and the hair on her neck stand up. Here was the proof to her earlier gut instincts. This, she thought, is how he treats people he dislikes, and so he must like me somewhat, no matter how I thought of him. His mercury eyes looked wild, and Losana wasn’t sure if she should get as far away from him as possible or as close to him as possible.

The room started to dim, then, as if something sucked up all the afternoon sunlight. The air chilled, more than Losana had thought it was possible with the wind. Her ears and nose and fingers started feeling numb with the chill and she swore that she could see her breath in the middle of July.

When it was all dark—and Losana blinked a couple of times to make sure that her eyes were still open and then decided to hold tight to Teagan—Teagan’s deep voice whispered through her blindness, “This is your warning.” Losana assumed that he meant the men, but still shivered at the raw power behind his voice. “Now leave.”

Then, it was all over. The last of the afternoon sunlight streamed through the window. The door was slightly ajar, with dirty footprints on the ground where the six men had been. They’re gone, but it was too close this time, Losana thought. If Emily had been here for them to threaten... If I couldn’t use my magic... If Teagan hadn’t been here...

Teagan stood beside her and rubbed soothing patterns on her back. His eyes were a soft gray, gentler than any eyes she had ever seen. “It’s okay, now,” he said softly. “It’s all over now.”

“It’s not okay,” Losana said, and was annoyed to find her voice wobbly. “What if... What if you hadn’t come?”

“But I have,” Teagan answered simply.

She jerked out of his hold, and felt all alone as the cold wind brushed past her. “What happens next time? You can’t promise to come every time.”

“I do,” he replied seriously, surprising her into stopping her tirade and looking at him. His eyes looked gentle and serious and trustworthy. All the sharp cruelty were gone, as if Losana had imagined it—and maybe she had, considering how frightened she was and how much she hated those men herself. Teagan took her hand in his, drawing her away from her thoughts. His hand was large and warm. “I can promise to come every time, and I do. I will be wherever you need me to be.”

“Nobody can do that!” Losana yelled at him, grabbing him with his arm with her other hand, as if she wanted to shake sense into him. It felt warm and solid and strong under her hand. “It’s not humanly possible, and I do not appreciate it when people lie to me so blatantly. I’m not a three year old, and I’m not so easily fooled.” She paused in her tirade, but he said nothing. She continued, then, as if her anger at him would give her strength and keep her from breaking down in fright. “And even if you could do such things, why would you?”

“I promised you I wouldn’t let anyone endanger you,” he answered, surprising her again. She hadn’t been expecting an answer. He pulled her close and placed a chaste kiss on the top of her head, his lips turning up in a smile as they brushed her soft, brown waves of hair and he felt her giving up her weight to him. “And I always keep my promises.”

Read More...

Sunrise on a Dragon

Work in Progress

Fantasy Pre-Romance

Diedre was a princess who rode in the best of carriages... to be sacrificed to a dragon.

---

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three

Read More...

Sunrise on a Dragon - Chapter Three

“Come,” Cyrus said. “Let’s away from this dreadful place.”

Diedre peered at him in confusion. “You’re speaking strangely.”

“Ah, well.” Cyrus pulled Diedre up by the hand, even though Diedre hadn’t quite wanted to get up yet. “I just meant that it must be uncomfortable here and you might want to go somewhere more comfortable.”

Diedre snatched her hand back. “Didn’t you hear a word of what I said?” she asked him. When he didn’t answer, she continued, “I am staying here, waiting for an evil, ugly dragon to gobble me up.”

Cyrus took offense to being described as “evil” and “ugly”, but since she was obviously not conscious of referring to him in particular, he supposed he should let her ignorance slide. “And… you are going to wait here to be gobbled up?”

“Obviously, you didn’t hear a word of what I said.”

“I did,” Cyrus protested. “Do you want to be eaten?”

Diedre refrained from rolling her eyes at his utter stupidity, though she supposed that the beautiful must also be vapid, even if she had only thought so of women before. “Of course I don’t want to be eaten by a dragon… nobody does!”

“Then why do you insist on waiting here, uncomfortably, for an unpleasant fate?”

“Because I’m the sacrifice.” Diedre picked up her dress and started pacing in the cave in her agitation. “I’m the martyr. I have to willingly go to my death so appease the dragon so that my people can live in peace.”

She was behind Cyrus now and he turned to watch her with his steady gaze. “But you’re not willing.”

She stopped and rounded on him. “I most definitely am!”

“But you don’t want to be eaten…”

Diedre sighed. “Just because I don’t want to do something, doesn’t mean I won’t. So, just leave me alone and leave, or the dragon might eat you, too. This is, after all, a dragon cave.”

Cyrus had never heard of such a strange tale. He almost told her that no dragon would live in a cave this small—he would not even fit in the cave in his dragon form. He might have told her that he was the dragon and that he didn’t plan on eating her, but then he thought she might put up a fuss about how he must eat her for her imperative sacrifice to be complete.

“Fine,” he said, finally. He would have to think of another way to remove her from this cave, preferably before she got herself sick with exhaustion or starvation.

---

Diedre stared after Cyrus as he left.

She was all alone in the cave again, and she felt even more miserable than before.

She didn’t know quite what she had expected of Cyrus. After all, this was their first acquaintance, but she could have been secretly hoping that he would convince her that her sacrifice was unnecessary, she supposed, or that she was too pretty to be sacrificed. But of course, she knew she wasn’t very pretty, at least not compared to him, and he probably didn’t care very much either way that she was to be sacrificed.

Oh, well, she thought. He really couldn’t have talked her out of it, since she was determined. She had decided to be determined.

Diedre wondered if she was allowed to explore the forest around the cave. It looked wild, but it couldn’t be too wild, with a human—Cyrus—living there. She should stay in the cave and wait for the dragon, but the dragon was already dreadfully late and surely, it wouldn’t mind not meeting her for a bit longer.

Maybe it thought that she was running away. Diedre looked around the cave. Her cloak was still there, and surely the dragon would be smart enough to know that she would not run into the cold, dark night without her cloak.

Taking one last look to make sure that everything was in order—the cave was still free from dragons and her cloak lay visibly on the floor—she took placed a satin slipper on the earthy forest ground.

“So, the princess doth runneth away.”

Diedre froze and looked around, only to see Cyrus—the cad!—leaning casually against a tree trunk. “Oh! I am not running away,” she told him again, hoping that he could somehow understand it this time. She had never met anybody as obtuse as him. “Surely, the dragon doesn’t expect me to expire out of boredom before it even has a chance to eat me. Besides, I left my cloak in there, and the dragon must have some modicum of intelligence if it can comprehend the idea of a trade.”

Cyrus scoffed at that. “The dragon has more than a modicum of intelligence.”

“You know the dragon?”

Cyrus thought about that. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

Diedre gave him a strange look out of her blue eyes. “What do you mean you ‘suppose’ you do. You do, or you don’t.”

“Hmm… I do.”

“Does he live here?” she asked.

“Not in the cave, actually,” Cyrus answered carefully. “But somewhere in the forest.”

“Is he big and mean and purple?”

“He’s purple.” Cyrus had always been considered one of the smallest dragons, because he was one of the younger ones, barely over a hundred years old. Although, he had heard that some plague had happened in the east and the older ones had been wiped out… He certainly did not consider himself ‘mean’, especially to Princess Diedre. He had even invited her to stay in the comfort of his own home.

“He’s not mean?” Diedre asked. Then, she made an all-encompassing motion with her hands. “Or big?”

“No, not really.”

“Oh, bother,” Diedre sighed. “What am I going to do now? Do you know how awful this is?”

Cyrus shook his head.

“Don’t you see?” Diedre grabbed fistfuls of her skirt. “I am going to be sacrificed to a small, nice dragon. What kind of story is that? What will my father tell my people? ‘Oh, yes,’ he’d say. ‘My littlest Diedre was eaten by a very nice dragon. He was kind of small, too, and not fearsome at all.’”

“Well, how about this?” Cyrus offered, “You can come stay at my home, and I’ll let the dragon know that you’re in the forest. That way, you can be comfortable and well rested and the dragon won’t have to hurry to come get you, which, I am sure, would upset him, or you can wait for a bigger dragon to pass by the area and I can ask him if he would like to eat you.”

“Would you really?” Diedre asked. She should refuse, but since she was to be eaten anyways… “But won’t it eat you?”

Cyrus grinned. It was a crooked grin with a secret. “No, dragons only eat young maidens.”

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Sunrise on a Dragon - Chapter Two

Diedre didn't know what she had expected. She hadn't been thinking much beyond the dragon.

The cave was small enough that she could see all of it from the long rays of morning sun, and it was empty. There was no dragon, or even the mountain of glittering jewels that Diedre had expected.

She could run away, Diedre realized suddenly. She had no change of clothing or money and her satin slippers were disgracefully dirty, but if she ran now, she would still have her life.

And feel guilty for as long as she lived.

Diedre paced a bit at the entrance of the cave. Maybe the dragon was testing her purity of heart. If she stayed, the dragon would... take her, but leave the kingdom intact. Otherwise, it would destroy more of the kingdom. And probably chase after her anyways.

She took a careful step into the cave and looked a bit more carefully. Maybe the dragon was hiding in a chamber in the back. Maybe it was still sleeping. Diedre even went so far as to pick up a skinny, brittle branch to poke the dragon in the eye and kill it for the kingdom before she realized the folly of it. After all, if dragons were so easy to kill, she would not be here. Her father would not sacrifice her just if his soldiers could kill dragons.

But there was no hidden inner chamber, and obviously no dragon.

So, Diedre spread her cloak out on the ground of the cave and sat down on it to wait.

And wait.

A squirrel ventured near the mouth of the cave, once, but then darted away.

Then, she waited some more started yawning. She hadn't slept well last night, knowing that it would be her last night in this world, and she had woken up this morning, all anxiety and nerves in the carriage. Sleep hadn't mattered, anyways, since she was being sent to a dragon.

But it was dull waiting around. When she started nodding off, she thought of how disgraceful it would be for the sacrifice to be sleeping in the dragon's lair, even if there was no sign of the dragon.

Then, Diedre thought morosely, maybe if she was sleeping when the dragon came upon her, she wouldn't notice when it eats her. She shivered at that thought.

So, she lay down, settled herself as well as she could on the stone ground, and fell asleep.

---

Cyrus folded his purple wings as he landed in the clearing in the forest, but the leaves still flew everywhere with the gusts of wind he brought. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he changed into a human shape.

There had been a human here.

He could smell it.

Cyrus sighed in frustration. He thought that he had made it quite clear with some king or another that the forest was not to be disturbed by any human. Even if humans had short memories, they couldn't have possibly forgotten already! It had only been a hundred years or so.

Although, it was the first human since his warning and only one of it, so he supposed he could just find the human and make him leave. Maybe tell it a proper dragon lore to scare it away for a while.

Then, again, the human might just decide to organize a dragon hunt. Cyrus didn't really mind the fire, seeing as he made fire, too, but he hated the smell of a burning forest and lugging water from the lake was always a pain.

Carefully, Cyrus followed the smell of the human... his bare feet already familiar with the forest paths.

He followed its smell until he reached a cave. It was a small cave, too, barely big enough to distinguish it from just another big boulder. He wondered what a human could possibly be doing there before he ventured inside. It was definitely barren inside, and dreary. But the human was definitely inside.

His eyes adjusted easily to the dark, and he saw a clump of something on the ground... probably a miserable old man kicked out from his house. Even so, he couldn't stay in Cyrus's forest. Cyrus approached the clump.

And stopped abruptly when he realized that it was a girl.

And a lovely girl at that, with ivory skin over delicate features. Perfect golden ringlets of hair framed her sleeping face. But most shocking of all was the circlet on her head, signifying that she was a princess.

It was a beautiful run-away princess, Cyrus thought, and wondered if he could keep her since she had run away anyways. But then he realized that if she had run away, there was probably a lover involved somewhere... obviously, not here.

Then, he realized that she wouldn't have worn her princess circlet if she had run away. For whatever reason she was not in palace, she had meant for others to know her status.

Maybe she had been kidnapped, Cyrus mused to himself as he watched her bosom rise and fall with her slow breaths. It couldn't have been for ransom; they would guard the girl. So, some poor human must have seen the princess and decided to steal her away in her sleep.

But with guards? And in her voluminous white dress?

Cyrus couldn't really puzzle it out. Either way, though, it was a human, and only his things stayed in his forest.

---

The first thing Diedre noticed when she woke up was beautiful blue eyes, with the prettiest color of purple tinting it.

Then she noticed the hard floor, her aching shoulders, her cramped neck, and the general impropriety of the situation in which there was a man in her room when she had been sleeping and that it wasn't actually her room but rather a dragon cave. And did propriety matter if she was going to be sacrificed to the dragon sometime soon anyways? (And please let it be soon so she could be spared of this embarrassing situation.)

She tried to sit up quickly, but only succeeded in drowning in her dress even more. Instead, she asked of the man with the most handsome face she had ever seen—which far surpassed any of the self-important princes and nobilities. "Who are you?"

"Cyrus." Cyrus seemed to consider before he asked, "Who are you?"

"Diedre."

"Princess Diedre," he corrected. At her confused look, he added, "You're wearing your circlet."

Since it wasn't a question, Diedre remained silent, pondering her next question.

"Why are you here?" They both asked at the same time.

Diedre glared at Cyrus for trying to steal her question, but ended admiring his eyes and his handsomely shaped jaws. The black hair was nice, too.

"I live here," Cyrus answered first. He hated female humans' tempers, and judging by its glare, it was a bit upset... about something. At her disbelieving look, he added, "in the forest."

Diedre nodded.

When she didn't say anything, Cyrus said, "Well, why are you here?"

"For the dragon," she answered simply.

"What?"

"I'm the maiden sacrificed to the dragon." When Cyrus still looked uncomprehending, Diedre sighed dramatically. "I'm waiting for the dragon to eat me."

Cyrus frowned slightly. "Why would the dragon eat you?"

In Diedre's frustration in communicating with this dense—but handsome—man, she managed to sit up in her dress, frothing with lace. "Because that's what dragons do." She sighed again. "The kingdom gave me to the dragon."

She's mine, Cyrus understood suddenly. All the kings and nobilities used to offer their spare daughters to dragons. There hadn't been any spare daughters recently, but Cyrus had been okay with that, since most of the girls had been ugly or obese or insufferable after two minutes of their acquaintances, but they had all tasted about the same, so he hadn't really minded.

Surely, though, Cyrus thought as he took in the girl's appearnce again in light of this new information, there were suitors for the girl. She might not be the perfect model for elegance or grace or beauty, but she was attractive enough. And if she was a touch dramatic, with her suffering sighs, well... it only emphasized the spark of life in her eyes.

Cyrus found it a bit upsetting that anybody would even think of putting out such liveliness—that she would be eaten by a dragon.

But... Cyrus thought suddenly, he didn't have to eat her.

After all, the kingdom had given her to him, but it never specified what he should do with her. Since he didn't want to eat her, he would keep her. Either way, she was his.

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Sunrise on a Dragon - Chapter One

"Diedre..." The King, his royal highness trailed off, desperately thinking of a way to comfort his daughter without recanting his decision. And failing. "It's not going to be that bad..."

"Yes, it is!" Diedre managed to wail in between her sobs. Being the youngest of the five princesses, she had been petulant and spoilt growing up. Whereas Melanie and Sandria had to marry advantageously, Leana had to serve The Lady, and Arya had to act in their mother's stead in more than one occasion, Diedre had never had any duties. "Father! It's going to be - " hic " - horrible!" Another hic. "The dragon's going to eat me!" Hic.

The King patted her daughter's hand for lack any comforting words. "We don't know what the dragons do, daughter. And you know that the legends dictate a maiden princess."

"Then send Leana!"

His Majesty sighed. He had already explained all this to Diedre once, and there were many other things he had to do: petitioners, floods, possible threats... the list was endless. Still, the ravaging dragon was on top priority because of its horrifying damage. So, he explained again, "Leana serves The Lady. So, in effect, she is no longer unattached."

"Send Arya!"

"Diedre... although the whole kingdom doesn't know, you and I do: Arya is no longer a maiden princess."

"Then - then..." Diedre raised her head from her hands. Her eyes and nose were both red and running like water fountains. Her normally delicate mouth gaped wide open and quivering. For a moment, she looked at some space in front of her. Then, she exhaled noisily through her congested nose and her shoulders sagged. She whispered, "But it's not fair."

No, it wasn't fair, and the king had to agree. Nor did he want this for his youngest and most sheltered daughter. To Diedre, though, he only said, "Would it have been more fair any of your other sisters?" At Diedre's nod, he continued, "We are royalty, Diedre, and that means we serve the country before we serve ourselves - at any time."

Diedre could only nod miserably.

Gruffly, the king patted Diedre's shoulder. "Go pack, daughter. We leave a candlemark before sunrise tomorrow."

---

Just a little before the time her father had told her to meet with him, Diedre still stood in her lavishly furnished room. She looked at the beautiful, bright silk sheets to her flowing satin gowns. Then stared at the paintings framed in gold on the walls and the emerald trinkets that brought her eyes out just so. And she took none of them, because she knew that she would need none of them in the stomach of a dragon.

So, instead, she packed a pair of comfortable shoes, day dress, and night gown, hoping that she would be able to live until she could sleep again. She also had a silver circlet on her head, to show her status as a princess. Besides, her mother had placed the circlet on her, and Diedre brought it mostly to remember her mother and her courage.

The knocks to her door came swiftly enough. Some guard had taken the unfortunate second night duty. He was probably escorting her to the dragon, too.

Just as well, it wouldn't do for her to be killed before she even reached the dragon.

---

The carriage she rode in - which was the best of the best since this was probably her last carriage ride ever - bounced rhythmically over the cobbled road. Through a window of the carriage, Diedre had seen the black shadows of houses cram together against a midnight blue colored sky. But those houses had started spacing out more and more and the sky had become lighter and lighter.

Until now. Now, it was almost full day, and surrounding her were the trees. Tall trees. Short bushes. Vines and evergreens. Diedre had never studied herbs - and didn't recognize trees much either - but she was sure that there were many useful herbs in this multifarious forest.

That was growing on a mountain.

With a cave in it.

With a dragon in it.

That ravaged villages, towns, and cities.

So much so that Diedre was going to be a sacrifice.

And that thought brought Diedre back to the present like a snap. To be given to a dragon. To be given to a dragon. To be...

Firmly, she tried to optimistic. There must be something good about this whole situation. After all, didn't every cloud have a silver lining? Well, she just had to find it.

The carriage rolled ominously deeper into the mountain.

And all Diedre could think of was that she would have a quick death - possibly - as opposed to a miserable life spent... locked up by the enemy? Married and miserable? Sending children off to dragons?

She hoped that there weren't that many dragons.

At that moment, the carriage chose to stop. The guard opened the door for her and politely helped her down. Her father, meanwhile, also slid down from his horse and came to give his daughter away. To a dragon.

He tried for a courageous smile, and Diedre appreciated the effort as the sky brightened some more, almost to the point of full day, but not quite yet.

He gave her a quick peck on the cheek, but wouldn't quite look at her. Instead, he squeezed he hand and half whispered and half chocked out a "fare well".

Diedre didn't even manage that much. She gave her dad a nod and a squeeze back. Then, she clutched her bag in one hand, almost desperately, and gathered her courage as she walked towards the cave.

She could see it now, the mysterious dragon lair entrance, and she was loathe to let go of her father.

But a sacrifice had to be made freely. And though she didn't want to do it, she had to do it. For duty. For honor. For her family. For her country.

And laid that foot on the cool stone of the cave, so different from the damp dirt of the forest. She passed the point of no return.

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Untitled Story

Work in progress

Paranormal Romance

Ariel is a college student who supports herself by working part-time patrolling the city against the Others. Samael is one of the Lucifer's Children--the Others--who works as an assassin because he can and it pays well. One day, Ariel saves Sam...

---

Chapter One currently being written

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Elemental Desire - Chapter One

Teagan folded his hands as he distracted himself by watching the dark streets seventy floors below, littered with flickers of light and pitiful humans. He pretended to listen to Seig, but he already knew what Seig would say: that it was time to reveal themselves to the humans.

"If we could interact with them with magic," Seig continued, "we would find our Heart's Desires much easier."

This is new, but not entirely unexpected, Teagan thought, as he turned his gray eyes back to Seig. Like any elemental taken human form, Seig looked like a human at his best, tall and lithe, smooth skin over sleek muscle. Still, there was that pathetic look in Seig's green eyes, hidden behind his coffee-colored hair, like a lost puppy that Teagan itched to kick in the stomach.

There was a moment of blessed silence, when Teagan wished that the conference would be over, but he knew better.

"We should control them, instead," Fernanz said, always rash and forceful.

"Enslave them, you mean," Celia corrected serenely, her white hair framing her perfectly oval face and bringing out the hazel in her eyes.

"However you want." Fernanz made a cutting motion impatiently. He turned to Teagan. "You should—"

Teagan stood up suddenly. "I'm bored. Decide on something and then tell me."

"But, Teagan," Seig objected, "you need to be here—"

Teagan barely paused at the door of his penthouse, his black hair and black silk shirt blending with the shadows beyond the entrance. He waved his hand negligently. "I don't really care what you do with the humans."

"But our Heart's Desires..." Seig said that, of course, still caught up in his dream.

Teagan turned around in impatience. "You've had four thousand years to grow up, Seig."

Celia's laughter sounded like sweet silver bells tinkling. "That's very mean of you, Teagan. You shouldn't dash Seig's belief in the impossible just because you know you are so despicable to humans."

"I don't deal with humans."

Again, Celia laughed, even under Teagan's glare. "You shouldn't lie, Teak."

"Go back to Dram," Teagan suggested as he disappeared, but Celia's laugh rang in his ears.

---

Teagan preferred to stalk the human world invisibly, faded from the humans' limited sight. Usually, he stayed near his penthouse, because there was no purpose in expanding more energy to go elsewhere when there were humans here. Given a choice, he would rather not see humans at all, but it was part of his duty—he sneered at the useless word—to observe the humans. It didn't matter much in the end, Teagan thought, since he had run out of things to do long before Seig had been born.

Sifting through the street bored him, and he sunk into a human façade again on the street. He wove a spell so that curious eyes would glide over him, and nobody looked at him, or even noticed him. Even without the spell, though, he would have been just another person on the busy night street, hurrying to somewhere he had to be.

Except, he had nowhere to be. The New York night teemed with lights and lives and deaths, but it was always like that in cities. Trying to keep track of human lives was like counting ants at a picnic, just as troublesome and useless.

He had had enough of pointless human-watching when he felt a strong tug of survainer magic. He thought of resisting it, but then he thought he might as well investigate. It wasn't as if he had anything better to do.

When his surroundings settled, he found himself in a small windowless room lit by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling, whining piteously with every slow swing. Mildew and cigarette smoke filled the air. Five men, with day-old growths on their chins and glazed looks in their eyes, stood in a circle around a girl. She was too small and too pale in her white dress. Her face was drained of pallor and her light blond hair would have been beautiful if it weren't all stuck together in a tangle. When Teagan's eyes met hers, hers widened, as if she could see him.

Then she fell down, her knees cracking loudly against the concrete floor. One of the men had kicked her behind the knees. She bit down hard on her lips—the faint scent of copper colored the air—but refused to cry out.

How typical of humans, Teagan thought, to hurt those weaker than themselves. He watched as the girl crumbled on the floor, her brown eyes pleading. But she couldn't see him, and besides, it was none of his business. Since he didn't feel any more survainer magic, he turned to leave.

"Call an elemental for us, bitch," one of the man said.

Teagan stopped as he heard this. He had thought that these were just drunkards, who had cornered a girl stupid enough to wander into their midst. But if they knew about elementals and they thought that she controlled survainer magic...

The girl shook her head. Her eyes shined wildly and desperately. Teagan could almost see the gold tint of survainer magic in her. "I don't know what you are talking about."

A loud crack rushed through room, and the girl fell down from the slap. Her cheek started to turn red, even under the dim lighting.

"Stop playing with us. We want an elemental and you are going to get one for us."

"I can't." The girl shook her head and sobbed. "I really can't."

Before the men could abuse her any further, the door burst open, its hinges broken and it was landing on the floor and kicking up dust. Another girl stood there, slightly older and on the verge of womanhood. She wore a plain t-shirt and non-descript jeans, but Teagan could see the determination—and the gold of survainer magic—in her eyes.

One of the men asked her, "Who are you?"

The girl at the door narrowed her eyes. "You should have done your homework better; you've got the wrong sister. Emily, here, doesn't have any magic." She didn't give the men any time to respond as the air danced around her, whipping her brown hair about her, and transforming her into something vivid and angry and awful.

Teagan felt lesser air elementals answering her requests and rushing toward the five men, but he could also see the awareness in the men's eyes. They weren't stupid or unprepared, and they dodged the air elementals quite easily.

One of them chuckled, "So we have. You look like more fun to play with, anyways."

That man took a step toward the girl at the door, and she sent more air elementals to batter him, but he evaded them easily, too. When the man stood barely a foot away from the girl, her shoulders tensed. Fear lit her eyes brighter than anger had. She tried to control the elementals, but they were only lesser air elementals and tired out from the earlier attacks. They filtered away from the room.

The man must have felt the elementals leave, too, because he laughed at her, a sort of gleeful grunting from the nose. "You." He grabbed the girl's arm and twisted her around.

Teagan saw her wince, and surprised himself with a surge of anger as the man leaned close to her neck and smelled her.

The girl struggled, of course, as the man tried to force her to join Emily. Teagan saw her clenching her hands uselessly, trying desperately to summon the air elementals who had already fled, but being a survainer, there was little else she could do.

Suddenly, the girl stopped, and the man walked into her. "You want an elemental?" She asked him.

The man laughed at her. "Are you going to cooperate?"

"If you let Emily go."

Out of the corner of his eye, Teagan saw Emily shake her head fervently.

"How do we know you'll cooperate?"

The girl glared at the man. "Fine, I'll summon one now." She tried to shrug out of his hold.

The man hmmphed, but didn't let go.

"Oh, you who control the elements, spirits who surround us..." the girl started chanting in a sweet, soft voice. It was all needless and senseless drivel. Still, Teagan could feel the fire of survainer magic warming up in her. It was a thing that he had always despised... and yet, he felt himself pulled towards her and her deceptive magic.

This girl... her magic was like nothing he had ever experienced. Its warmth cradling him just so. Its strength pulling him closer. Not forcefully, but coaxingly, and he wanted... Teagan could feel the answering heat in his own body, rushing to claim her—her mind and magic and body—as his own, because she was his.

And the man, the hyena of a man had his hand on her. Teagan felt his form waver, his impulse telling him to change into something savage and primal so he could use teeth and claws to tear the man into pieces small enough for rats to devour.

He heard the words that she was still chanting, but she had already finished weaving her magic.

Please, somebody, help me, she pleaded desperately to the elementals in general.

So she hadn't forced a binding, then, like he had expected her to, even though he could still feel her magic hugging him close, shifting its shape to fit his own.

The few remaining air elementals skittered and darted a bit, unsure whether they should help her or not.

Teagan scoffed at their cowardliness. And her. There was a reason that humans forced bindings onto elementals; otherwise, the elementals rarely obeyed. Still, hers was a fault of kindness while the man holding her...

With a whispered thought, Teagan banished the other elementals in the room.

They hesitated. What about Losana?

Losana... He'd take care of her.

As soon as the other elementals left, Teagan shook off his human shape, which had been invisible anyways, and unfurled over the room. The light dimmed until there was only darkness accompanied the incessant creaking of the single light bulb and soft, raspy breathing. When he knew that neither Losana nor Emily could see a thing, there was a loud pop, a bit of half-hearted screaming, and the sound of liquid splashing.

When Teagan let the light through again, the room was painted like one of those three-dimensional modern art pieces, dotted in red and decorated in bits of flesh, crushed bone, and torn sinews.

Teagan had already transported Losana and Emily to the outside of the building.

---

"Somebody killed humans." Seig sounded upset.

Teagan shrugged. Some humans deserved to die, especially if they meant to ruin magic so warm and sweet that he could still taste it in the air and feel it caressing his skin.

"An elemental," Seig clarified.

What did Teagan remember of Losana? Gold eyes... but all survainers had gold eyes when they worked magic. They were probably brown under sunlight. But would they be dark like coffee or soft like honey?

For once, Celia didn't say anything. Probably distracted by Dram. Teagan wished that Dram would come to more of these conferences, if he could always keep Celia's tongue so busy.

And he remembered a bit of her hair, wildly dancing about her, carried by those lesser air elementals. Did they know how soft or light her hair was? Did it tangle easily and delicately or stay beautifully ordered? He should have at least flowed through her hair before he had let her go.

He should have...

Teagan stopped himself. What he needed to do was to find the girl and fuck her senseless before somebody else stole her exquisite magic.

"So we should—"

"Talk it over with Fernanz," Teagan suggested as he stood up to leave the room. He savored Seig's stricken expression, but was more distracted by the thought of finding his little survainer.

---

Losana hugged Emily to her carefully. With a whisper of magic and help from the elementals, she healed Emily as best as she could. The bruises wouldn't be as bad, but they would still be visible.

"I'm sorry."

Emily hugged her back, a bit awkwardly. "They were bad men."

"But if I couldn't do this... magic... none of this would have happened."

Emily smiled a little. She looked like a well-played china doll ready to fall apart, complete with tangled hair and dirty smudges on her white dress.

"It's okay, Lo," Emily soothed, making Losana feel even guiltier. "If you hadn't had the magic, we wouldn't have been saved either."

Losana remembered the cool wind brushing past her like a lover's ghost and the sudden, stifling darkness. She shook her head. "That wasn't me."

"I know it's more powerful than anything else you've done before," Emily said as she tested out her legs. Her knees hurt, but she could walk, at least the length back their house. "But nobody else could have controlled the elemental."

Emily leaned a bit on Losana. Losana found that she didn't need to slow her pace for Emily, because of her own exhaustion.

"I don't think that the elemental was... controlled."

The two sisters made their way slowly down the street. The streetlights were still on, but the first rays of sunshine were already peaking through between the buildings. People who worked early cut through the streets.

When they neared their parents' apartment, Losana said quietly, "I should tell them about magic."

Emily shook her head. "It's okay. I'll just tell them that I was clumsy."

"But—"

"It's okay." Emily winced as they stepped over a curb. Her knees really did hurt. "You know mother would want to examine you, instead."

Losana nodded and then sighed. "I'm really sorry."

Emily just shook her head again. With a wry smile, she said, "I just wish that you'd show me your magic someday, without using it to save one or both of us."

Losana laughed. "Me, too."

---

Teagan slipped through the wall easily when he determined where Losana was. It hadn't been too difficult. Even though her magic had been dormant, it was too powerful—and too distinct—to be hidden from him once he knew its shape. And when he had brushed past her magic, it had flared to life, like a beacon guiding him to her room.

Losana was covered with blankets. He could see her face, fine features framed by soft brown hair, almost black in the darkness of the room. She was curled up under her blankets, and Teagan marveled at the smooth skin covering the fine bones of her hand that held onto the blanket so tightly. Awake, she had had that spitfire personality, warning strangers away, but asleep, there was nothing hiding her delicate beauty or her magic, which those men had wanted to use.

Mine.

The thought came unbidden, but once it came to him, he agreed.

The air elementals in the room—and the one fire elemental—stirred. His magic must have flared when he had decided Losana was his. But they were all lesser elementals, and quailed when he drifted out a warning.

Teagan coalesced into his human shape, kneeling next to her bed. With a careful hand, he ran his fingers through her curls, satiny and long.

He stopped when Losana stirred, shifting slightly in her bed. When she didn't wake up, Teagan leaned forward. His lips barely brushed hers. It was a soft and sweet and careful kiss. And Teagan felt his craving for her sharpen until he bit on his tongue to fight for control.

He heated the room and slowly pulled the comforter off her. She slept in a long, white tank top, riding up her pale thighs. He could see her chest rise and fall gently from her breathing.

Teagan leaned in and kissed her again, firmer this time instead of that of a phantom lover. His hands found hers, small and yielding. He followed her arms up to her graceful shoulder and inhaled her smell, a pleasant scent that made him heady with desire.

Losana shifted again and Teagan stilled, but didn't take his lips off hers. He knew she would be upset if she woke up to find him, but as his hands skimmed down her body, he knew he could also wake her, wanting him mindlessly. She wouldn't think of denying him.

His hands slid under her long tank top and touched smooth skin. He saw her nipples harden through the tank top and he knew that he could make it good for her—perfect for her. So much so that she would compare all other men to him.

Mine, a part of him growled, the part of him that still cared about something. No other man would touch her. Ever.

Losana sighed in her sleep and smiled, as if dreaming of something pleasant.

Teagan wanted to know if she was dreaming of him. He was tempted to go into her thoughts to find out, but he knew that he would only steal her memory at best and possibly break her if he wasn't careful. He wondered if she had a lover and dreamed of him as Teagan touched her.

With a jerk, Teagan stood up and backed away from her. She had better not have a lover, or she had just doomed a man to his death.

Teagan realized that he didn't know anything about Losana besides that she belonged to him. With him. He needed to rectify this situation if he wanted her surrender, and he needed her surrender if he wanted to feel her magic cradled around his. Besides, since he had decided that she was his, she should acknowledge it, too.

Teagan straightened up and disintegrated into the morning light.

---

Blearily, Losana rubbed her eyes.

She had not slept enough, but she supposed that she should be grateful that she had had any sleep at all. She should have been prepared for the kidnapping last night, but somehow she hadn't thought that Charles' men would come so soon, or mistake Emily for herself.

Losana pulled out a t-shirt. She considered wearing a skirt, but she decided that she was going to be cranky and irritable the whole day anyways, so she might as well just wear jeans. Besides, it wasn't as if she was going to meet a guy around here.

She sighed. Her last date had been with David, ten months ago at the end of last summer, right before they started college and he broke it off with her. Her mother said that it was natural, a textbook case, to not want to date after a bad break-up. Emily just said that of course, Losana would have to wait a bit until a man nearly as good looking as David came along. Sara, her roommate from last year, said once, when she had popped in to change into a thong for boyfriend of three weeks, that good boyfriends were hard to find.

Specifically, David had told her, "Girls just aren't my thing." Losana had wondered if he had referred to her reluctance to sleep him—because not all girls were like that—or if he had meant that he missed his boyfriend, who flew back to the west coast for the summer. Losana hadn't known that David had had a boyfriend, but apparently, the two were in an open relationship.

David had been too good to be true, anyways. He was good-looking, with sand colored hair and eyes like the ocean. He looked like he walked off a surfing poster and sometimes, when he had kissed her, Losana swore that she could smell the Pacific ocean on him. He dressed well—which should have given her a clue. He talked intelligently and acted considerately. He was there when she wanted a listener, and left her space when she needed it. He gave her a rose a day, but allowed her to pay for half of their dates. And he never pushed for sex.

Contrary to what her mother thought, it hadn't been a particularly bad break-up... just a bit shocking. Losana hadn't be sure whether she should feel better or worse that David preferred a man over her, but she finally decided that David had just been lonely and confused in the summer, without Gary. Besides, there had never been that spark between them. They had been good friends, though, and remained good friends.

Her mobile bleeped at her. "David," the display said.

"What's up?" she asked him as she struggled to brush her hair with one hand.

"Um-hm," Gary answered at the other end. "I'm in your lobby."

"Okay." Losana winced a bit as she tugged the brush through her hair. "David knows my floor."

There was a moment of silence before she heard Gary say, "No, no. We're quite happy to wait in the lobby."

The she heard David's muffled voice. "Really hot man, waiting for the elevator."

Losana rolled her eyes even if they couldn't see it. "You're interested in gay men. I'm not."

"Unfortunately," Gary answered with a sincere hint of regret. "He doesn't look gay. Oh, wait, we're going on the elevator now. He's getting in it."

Then, a click signified the end of the call. David was a fine listener by himself, and so was Gary, but together, they were very easily distracted. Losana checked her phone again. It said twenty past eleven, so Emily was probably just finishing her dance class. Mother and father were both at work.

Losana made her way into the kitchen and pulled out two pieces of bread and stuck them in the toaster when someone used the knocker.

"It's unlocked," she yelled as she rummaged through the refrigerator for butter. She wasn't going to have toast without butter.

She heard the door open and shut. "Well," she said, still with her face in the fridge. "Would you believe it if I said Emily was kidnapped last night? And that I saved her?"

"Yes, I would," the man answered, his voice a smooth bass, and shocking Losana into standing up so quickly that she bumped her head on the fridge.

Then she stared.

And she stared.

If David had been sunshine and boyish charm, this man was shadows and sensuality. Looking at David made you think about water skiing and canon-balling into the pool; looking at this man made you think of nothing beyond tangled silk sheets and foggy windows. Losana could feel her whole body warming just looking at him, standing there, leaning against the wall.

Then, she remembered that she had been expecting Gary and David. And this man—very unfortunately—had no place in her apartment. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

The man smiled, lifting up a corner of his sensual mouth. "I'm here for you."

When Losana remembered to breathe again, she backed up into the kitchen counter. The man had unfolded himself from the wall, and crowded the kitchen. Losana wanted to turn around and grab a knife, but that would mean taking her eyes off this man in front of her and possibly warning him of her intentions. Instead, she called her magic.

The man stood inches in front of her. She could see the muscles rippling underneath his black t-shirt and smell him, a mix of musk and cedar wood and man. He trapped her with one hand on the counter on each side of her and his height towering over hers. Losana felt small and stayed still as he leaned down to her neck and dragged in a deep breath.

"Your magic is lovely," he whispered to her. Then, he kissed her neck gently, his lips unexpectedly soft for his chiseled features. "But useless against me."

Losana didn't want to be scared, but she swallowed anyways. In all the years she had used magic, nobody had ever been able to detect it, especially when she had barely called it. Sylvia, she called, hoping that the air elemental was near.

"I've forbidden Sylvia from doing anything." The man put his hands on her shoulders—large hands on slender shoulders—and kissed her temple. "Don't worry; I'll take care of you now."

Losana looked up and met his eyes—colorless, swirling gray eyes. "Who are you?"

"Teagan."

---

Somebody knocked, breaking Losana out of her stupor.

"Open up," David's voice carried through the door, slightly muffled. "Since when have you started locking your door on me?"

She looked back up at the man named Teagan. He gave her a chiding glance, but glided away from her. Losana took a deep breath and refrained herself from straightening her clothes; she hadn't been doing anything unseemly, even if she must have thought of a million different scenarios of what could have happened if David and Gary had not interrupted.

David crushed her in a hug when she opened the door for him—which hadn't been locked—and she stiffened when she felt a flare... of something... dark and unsettling. Involuntarily, she looked over to where Teagan stood, and though his face remained impassive, she could sense the alertness in his hooded eyes.

When David let go, Gary stepped through the door and gave her a goofy smile and a loud kiss on the cheek. "And how is our favorite girl today?" he asked.

Tell them to back off.

For a moment, Losana couldn’t figure out who said that, because usually only Sylvia talked to her mentally. Then, she looked at Teagan. They're my friends, she told him.

Tell them to back off, Teagan repeated, and Losana could hear the slight snarl in his voice. Or I won't be responsible for what happens to them.

Losana turned to glare at Teagan. Why was this happening to her anyways?

Last night, her sister had been kidnapped, and she had managed to find Emily—with Sylvia and a few other elementals' help—and yes, last night, she had been scared out her wits, because it had been dark and damp and her sister had been taken hostage. But that was last night.

Today, the sun was shining, and she was in her own apartment, with two of her best friends. If Teagan was attractive—though it's not really an "if" as much as a "though"—so was David. Besides, attractiveness was no reason for intimidation, or his overbearing attitude. So Losana had left her door unlocked... big deal! He had no call to walk in here, as if... as if...

Losana ground her teeth at his nonchalant attitude. It was not his apartment.

She stalked up to Teagan, and glared for all she was worth—but it was difficult to glare at someone so much taller. "Do you have a last name, Teagan?"

He shrugged, and Losana admired his shoulders. "Nusquamesse."

Losana blinked. "Okay, Mr. N," she decided. "I am afraid that you have walked through the wrong door."

"No, I have not." He ran his hand through her hair casually, and Losana was too startled to object. "You're here."

Before Losana could think of something to say, Gary asked, carefully, "Losana, who are you talking to?"

"Pshha," David waved away Gary's question. "Our favorite girl here is a very special girl. She can do voodoo séances."

"It's not voodoo or a séance," Losana corrected David. No matter how many times she had explained, he never seemed to remember. "I don't talk to the dead."

"Then who are you talking to?" David repeated Gary's question. "Only ghosts are invisible. Besides, what do you call yourself anyways?"

Losana took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't know what I'm called because I haven't met anybody else like me. And I'm not crazy." She said the last part in response to David's blatant signing to Gary that she was cuckoo.

"That's what they all say," David replied easily. "But we love you anyways, Lo."

David stepped forward to give Losana a I'm-sorry-and-let's-make-up hug, but stopped mid step. Gary suddenly turned into a fire alarm gone wrong, and continuously made high-pitched beeping noises. Losana stared, "What is wrong with you guys?"

Finally, Gary stopped and David whistled. "Dang, did you make him?"

Gary added, "We want one... actually, can we each have one?" Then, he went back to beeping.

"Gary," Losana asked slowly. "Why are you... beeping?"

Gary gave Losana a droll look, which Losana did not appreciate. "It's the hot guy alert."

Losana looked at Teagan. He didn't seem any different. She asked David and Gary. "You can see him now?"

"Yes," David answered. "I know I'm looking. Now I know why you haven't had any boyfriends for a whole year; you can make your very own lovers."

Losana opened her mouth a couple of times, trying to say something, but what David imagined was so preposterous that she hadn't the faintest idea of how to persuade him that Teagan was not made by her or under the control of her magic in any way, shape, or form. "David, Gary, meet Teagan," she finally introduced warily. "I did not make him, and he is very welcomed to leave this apartment anytime he wants."

She hadn't been sure if she should offend Teagan, since she didn't know him very well—and he was a bit intimidating, if only from sheer size. Still, he had waltzed into her apartment, which was under her jurisdiction. If he chose to stay, he stayed at his own peril.

But he surprised her by putting a hand around her waist. It looked casual, but Losana could feel his muscles and knew that if she tried to shrug him off, she would only embarrass herself. She glared at him instead, and noticed that he was showing his teeth in the semblance of a smile.

Gary didn't seem to notice Losana's careful rigidity or the sharp-toothed gleam in Teagan'st smile. Instead, he stuck out a hand. "Very pleased to see you."

The moment hung in the air as Losana waited. She almost wished that Teagan would refuse Gary's friendship, but she realized that Teagan wore the veneer of civility too well. "I'm always glad to be introduced to Losana's friends," Teagan answered as he shook Gary's hand.

Grudgingly, David held out a hand, too, which Teagan shook with a nod. Suddenly, Losana felt cramped in the kitchen with these three men and stifled in the handshakes that made it all very official, even though she wasn't quite sure what "it" was.

"Well," Gary said, guiding David back out of the door, and winked. "I think we are going to tell Sara about your previously-hidden boyfriend, right now."

Losana was so startled by the word that started with "boy" and ended with "friend" that she didn't quite process the rest of the sentence before Gary and David were already out the door. She saw that Gary walked with a bounce in his step, and David took long strides to keep up with Gary. Then, the door swung shut.

"Some friends," Losana muttered, looking morosely at the white, wooden door. It was reinforced with some sort of metal underneath, but that was useless unless the door was actually locked.

Then, she heard Teagan say, "I don't think I mind them much."

Losana stared, utterly speechless, at Teagan's audacious high-handedness, but he didn't even seem to notice.

Or maybe he did, and he added with a dark, smooth chuckle, "It means that I will allow you to see them from time to time, little one."

---

Losana fumed; Teagan had the gall to settle himself on her sofa. She tried to read a book, but she knew that his pale eyes were fixed on her. She watered the plants, instead. Nobody had been on the internet—too busy vacationing in Europe or Australia, probably. The air elementals seemed to have vanished. And Teagan N. still sat in her room.

"I'm going to call the police," she informed him.

His gray eyes dared her from under the dark lashes.

Losana hadn't quite expected him to just accept it, but satisfied that she had given fair warning, she reached for the telephone. She kept her eyes on him, as she used her fingers to find the numbers. Nine... one...

And then somehow Teagan was behind her, his arms caging her. Somehow, he had slipped the phone out of her hand. Losana could feel her heart picking up speed, as if in answer to the heat emanating from the man behind her. She could feel the solidity of his chest, hear the steady beating of his chest, and smell him, a smell that she wanted to bottle and spray on her pillow every night. She felt lightheaded in his hold—must be how tight his arms are around me, Losana thought.

"Don't," he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her.

For a second, Losana couldn't remember what he was talking about. When she remembered, she stiffened and tried to twist out of his arms, but it felt like pushing against marble, just as smooth and unmovable. Then, his arms tightened even more. It wasn't painful, but Losana couldn't struggle at all now. Incredibly, she felt tears of frustration in the corner of her eyes.

"Shh... I won't let anybody endanger you."

Losana could almost believe him, with his beautiful bass promise and his chest rumbling as he spoke, but she knew she shouldn't. She gathered her resolve and spat, "It's not other people I don't trust; it's you."

A breeze chilled Losana's back, and though sunlight still lit the room, she only noticed the sharp edges of the shadows.

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