5. Elzora
5
ELZORA
“ O kay, Zoe, we’re going to do a few different tests so we can assess how you’re doing after your maturing yesterday,” Dr Kunya says, his voice soft but clinical.
His smile is probably meant to be reassuring, but the edge of tension in his aura feeds into the already existing anxiety within me. He’s a water witch, and his magicae is so entwined within his presence that he feels almost cool.
It’s not as comforting as that of Zohar, my water anima nexum , and as such, it can’t calm the storm building inside of me.
Dr Kunya is around my grandma’s age, before she passed, with bright green eyes, and lots of smile wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. He’s wearing a white coat, like Earth doctors do, with a shirt and a pair of dress pants.
It’s familiar and should be comforting… but I don’t think I’m going to be able to relax until we get through this appointment.
“Have you used any of this equipment with her?” Dr Kunya asks Zohar, and as the two of them engage in a very scientific conversation about medicine that goes over my head, Eirik adjusts his chair to sit closer to me.
I’m on the examination bed, propped up on a pillow, in an effort to keep me comfortable. Eirik’s on my left side, out of the way of most of the equipment. There’s a spare chair for Zohar, but my water witch has taken to overseeing everything that the doctor is doing.
It’s probably rude, but I don’t care. It makes me feel a lot more reassured than anything that Dr Kunya could do for me.
“I love that you feel this way.”
“Well, I love you.”
He beams at me, as Dr Kunya grabs what looks like a blood pressure cuff but without the wires. He brings it over, standing at my right side. He attaches it to my arm, not saying a word, as it makes a low humming noise.
It doesn’t tighten, not like it should if we were on Earth, but I can see the subtle shift in Dr Kunya as his magicae brushes against the cuff.
I tense, looking at Zohar in an attempt to keep myself calm.
“Don’t worry, dragonfly, all this does is check your vitals. Blood pressure, temperature, heart rate, primordium activity, and a generalised level of your wellbeing.”
I bite my lip as my magicae shifts. It’s not fully receptive to his energy, but it’s not rejecting it either.
“You don’t use this stuff.”
Zohar’s expression lightens, but it’s Eirik who speaks.
“Zohar’s more powerful than Dr Kunya in that way. Every witch has differences in their abilities, and Zohar’s capable of doing this kind of assessment without needing a conduit to amplify it.”
“That’s what this does?” I ask, examining the cuff more intently.
Zohar nods. “I’ve got one at home you can have a look at. It’s got runes built in by more powerful water witches. Back in the day, soul witches like yourself would assist, but now…”
He doesn’t fill in the rest of his sentence, but I don’t need him to.
There’s a shift in the cuff, and my eyes dart to Zohar in panic. He’s not looking at me, just examining what Dr Kunya’s doing, so I tighten my grip on Eirik’s hand.
The examination room suddenly feels too cold, too sterile.
“How are you feeling?” Eirik whispers, his lips close to my ear as I sit perched on the edge of the exam table. His thumb rubs slow circles against the back of my hand, grounding me the best he can.
“Nervous,” I mutter, my heart racing.
“That’s completely understandable. But I assure you, nothing bad is going to happen,” Dr Kunya says smoothly. “I’m sure Zohar can reassure you.”
The doctor waves his hand in a slow and precise movement, and I feel a coolness pour over me that causes me to tense. Zohar’s eyes rake across my face, a small v appearing at the top of his nose. Eirik’s grip tightens.
My magicae doesn’t like the intrusive nature of the doctor, and it instantly flares out, raising a barrier against the water witch’s energy. I relax, ever so slightly, knowing that I’m protected.
“What have you done, dragonfly?” Zohar asks gently.
I stiffen as the doctor attempts to breach my barriers by using more of his magicae, but it’s not doing much of anything.
I’m stronger than he is.
“This is just a simple test to see how you’re doing,” Zohar reminds me, out loud this time. He’s trying to convince me—or maybe my magicae—that this is normal, that it’s okay.
“Exactly,” the doctor says, his frown deepening as he looks at the cuff on my arm in accusation. “We want to make sure that your magicae maturing this early hasn’t caused any unforeseen side effects or health issues for you.”
“Are you doing something to this cuff, Zoe?” Zohar asks, and I give a tentative nod. “Why? What does it feel like to you?”
“Are you in pain?” Eirik demands.
The cuff hums louder, and I feel the doctor’s magicae pushing gently against mine—like water pressing against a dam. But my magicae doesn’t respond gently. It rises, defensive, ready to not only push back but to overwhelm the user.
Zohar didn’t find anything wrong last night. This is unnecessary.
“Because you’re healthy. You’ve become the witch you were meant to be, dragonfly. Your body has adapted perfectly.”
“Zohar is extremely talented,” Eirik says out loud, brushing a loose strand of hair out of my face. “But he’s not fully qualified yet, and he might have missed something. He’s still maturing himself, which limits what he can do.”
“It does,” Zohar says, and I’m surprised by the authenticity in his words. “You’re my anima nexum , Zoe, and I’d never want to be the reason that something was missed. I’m confident you’re healthy, but I’m extremely grateful to Dr Kunya here for taking the time to check over you.”
“Me, too,” Eirik adds. My two men share a look, and I know that they’re saying what they think the doctor wants to hear.
I just don’t understand why.
“Because just like you trust us, darling, we trust you,” Eirik says, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. “If you feel defensive—there’s a reason. If you’re panicked—there’s something to be panicked over.”
I see the flush of my cheeks in the mirror opposite, watching as the redness travels down my neck. I love that they believe me, that they’re so trusting… but I’m a mess with a diagnosed anxiety condition. What if this is just another one of my ridiculous overreactions?
“Your self-confidence is something we absolutely need to work on. You’re one of the most intuitive people I know, and I hate hearing the way you think of yourself.”
“I’m sorry.” I drop my head, not able to meet either of their gazes.
“Don’t ever apologise for being truthful—especially not when you’re thinking in your own head,” Eirik says firmly. “You’re allowed to feel however you need, and it’s our job to support you in gaining the confidence you need.”
“Starting with me telling you two things. The first is that you’ve got reason to be suspicious,” Zohar says, giving the back of Dr Kunya’s head a glower that seems strong enough to maim. “And secondly, you’re doing everything I could’ve ever asked from you. Communicating, trusting, loving . You’re everything I wanted in a soulmate, Elzora.”
My smile is genuine, and I feel their love in the bonds we share. Their confidence in me is enough right now for me to trust myself.
Dr Kunya has been working in silence this entire time, his focus fixed on the device and the way I’m causing it to malfunction.
“Is there something wrong, doctor?” Zohar prompts, almost smirking. “This doesn’t usually take this long.”
Dr Kunya sighs, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he stands tall once more. “It’s not working properly because you’re blocking it, Elzora. Are you doing that consciously?”
I immediately shake my head, despite the strange look he’s giving me.
“Your magicae is resisting me,” Dr Kunya says, and there’s a careful note of neutrality in his tone. He glances over at Eirik, who doesn’t physically react, but I feel his magicae wrapping around me like a protective barrier between the doctor and me.
“Hm. I’ve never had that problem with her before,” Zohar says.
“I wonder if we could sedate her—” Dr Kunya starts.
“I’m not doing it on purpose,” I blurt out, my voice too high, too shaky at the thought of this man having access to me whilst I’m unconscious and helpless to stop him. My pulse races as I grip the edge of the table, my fingers white-knuckled. “I—I can’t control it.”
“That’s not something we feel comfortable with doing for a general health check,” Eirik says calmly.
Dr. Kunya frowns and reaches down to adjust the cuff, but my magicae pushes harder, reacting to the foreign energy like it’s an attack. My skin tingles, heat rushing to the surface, and for a moment, I’m terrified that I’ll lose control entirely.
I close my eyes, breathe, and beg my magicae to not do anything terrible that could endanger our soul connections.
“I see,” Dr Kunya says. “Is there a reason why it’s so… heightened, Elzora? Has anything unusual happened since your magicae matured last night?”
“I don’t know what would be classed as unusual,” I whisper, my words barely audible. I’m scared to trust the gentle tone he’s using, not when Zohar’s frown is deepening, and Eirik’s tenser than I am.
Everything about this moment feels wrong. The way his magicae is still probing mine feels far too invasive, too personal, as if he’s digging into something he shouldn’t be trying to access.
“Zoe’s extremely anxious—that should already be noted within her file,” Eirik says calmly, his hand squeezing my own. “She’s adjusting brilliantly to our world, but it’s still very new for her.”
Zohar nods, although it takes him longer to snap out of his anger. “Can I have a try? I can display the results up for you, and I know that her magicae already trusts me.”
Dr Kunya’s face flashes with an emotion I can’t quite place before he shakes his head. “That won’t be necessary. Let’s give it one more try.”
I focus on the feel of Eirik’s warm hand, on the steadiness of his pulse, but it’s not enough. My magicae reacts again, stronger this time, and I feel it surge up my arm, rippling outward.
The cuff pops off and lets out a loud screeching noise. It fizzles, and Dr Kunya sighs.
“Well, that was an unfortunate side effect,” Zohar says dryly, and I let out a nervous giggle.
“Let’s give another test a try, and we’ll come back to this one,” Dr Kunya says. He sounds a little frustrated, and guilt bubbles up inside of me.
“I’m sorry.”
I wish I could be okay with disappointing people, but it’s something that always makes me feel sick to my core.
Eirik smooths out my hair. “Your empathy is one of the things I love most about you, darling.”
“It happens,” Dr Kunya says, waving off my concerns. “I am truly sorry, Elzora. I have never interacted with a…” He trails off, his cheeks tinging red.
Human? Girl?
He doesn’t finish his sentence, an awkward tension in the air as he goes over to the cupboards on the far wall. He grabs a wooden rack, some test tubes, and a black box before bringing them over to us.
I look up at Eirik, who is watching Dr Kunya with keen eyes, and try to relax myself and my magicae.
I don’t want to be here all day. I don’t want to raise any concerns or have the doctor be too interested. I just want to leave.
“We’ll leave soon, love, I promise.”
“You’re in control,” Zohar adds.
But I’m not. I haven’t been since the moment I was brought to Mitagus. My magicae fully maturing has only meant I now have more power to do more destruction.
Dr Kunya pulls out a sleek black device that hums with even more magicae than the cuff. He’s far more cautious this time as he approaches me, but his unease feeds into my own.
My heart slams against my ribs, panic bubbling in my throat. I don’t want this. I don’t want to be here.What if he can tell I’m a soul witch?
I can’t reveal that I’m a soul witch because I’ll never leave this appointment alive.
“Can you explain to Zoe what this test does, please, Dr Kunya,” Eirik demands, and even though he said ‘please’, we can all feel the command in his words.
“What I want you to do is press here with your thumb. It’s a standard test, and all we need is a small drop of blood. It’ll help us assess your magicae levels,” Dr Kunya says, showing me the sharp pin at the end of the device. I immediately recoil.
“It does more than just test your magicael levels—this is to determine lineage.”
A chill rolls over me, but at Eirik’s nudging, I hold out my thumb and let the doctor proceed. Zohar’s gaze is intense, and I don’t know how anyone is actually managing to breathe in this room right now. The air is so thick I feel like my lungs are being filled with a poisonous gas.
Dr Kunya’s hold on my hand is gentle, but the sharp press stings as red blood oozes out of the wound. I stare at it, wondering if it’s showing him anything different than I can see.
“It’s not. Don’t worry,” Zohar promises.
“Perfect, now put a drop in each of these vials.”
But when he gestures to eight circular vials in the wooden tray, my magicae revolts, and I listen to it. My magicae snaps and heals the small prick on my thumb, the blood dissolving as if it knows better than to let anyone take even a tiny sample.
Zohar’s smirk is barely noticeable, but the pride that echoes inside my chest is too strong to ignore.
Dr Kunya frowns when he spots my thumb has healed. “Okay, let’s try it again, but this time, don’t let your primordium heal itself, okay? I know it’s naturally going to want to, but this won’t take but a moment.”
“No,” I whisper, pulling my hand back. “I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”
Eirik tenses for a brief moment but then rises from his chair. “I’m afraid we’ll have to give this test a miss. My anima nexum is uncomfortable, and I don’t like the way you’re treating her.”
Dr. Kunya’s expression shifts, his professional mask slipping for a fraction of a second. Concern? Suspicion? Anger? I can’t tell.
“I’ve never seen this contraption before,” Zohar says, and the doctor relaxes ever so slightly. “Is it necessary?”
“Unfortunately so,” Dr Kunya replies, and rather than continuing to deal with Eirik and I, he turns to Zohar. “It’s a test Theran—I mean, Mr Downey—insisted upon, and I agree.”
Zohar nods, and Eirik wraps his arms around my shoulders, cuddling me into his chest. I tuck my head into him, breathing in his earthy scent.
“Can you probe him with your magicae?” Eirik asks. “I want you to do more than just read his type and actually press further to examine his soul. You’ve done it before, but now you need to do it on purpose.”
So, as Zohar and Dr Kunya start talking about the ways we can progress with this test, I do what Eirik asks. My magicae is guided based on my instinct, so when I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and let my magicae out… it does exactly what I want.
I examine Dr Kunya’s soul. He’s not a bad man, not really. He’s done a lot of good in his life, very few dark spots in his soul.
He’s a nice man who has lived a long life—a happy one.
It’s sad because I really wish I could trust him.
But we can’t.
Dr Kunya might have had an almost perfect career up to now, but when it comes to me… he’s not willing to abide by the usual doctorly care.
Someone has managed to sway my doctor away from his vows. The realisation settles in my chest like a stone.
Zohar’s gaze darkens, and he cuts Dr Kunya off, his magicae pulsating like a storm. “We’re done here.”
“We’re done?” Dr Kunya’s brows draw together, and I see the flicker of unease in his eyes. “We’ve not actually accomplished anything.”
“We’re done,” Eirik repeats. I shouldn’t find them so attractive right now, but with their firm expressions and the swirling of their magicae, I can’t resist the pull to them.
Eirik helps me get off the table, as Dr Kunya stutters out his concerns. Eirik doesn’t bother arguing with him; instead, he waves his hand, and we can no longer hear the complaints from the doctor.
Zohar takes my hand in his, as Eirik stops in front of Dr Kunya. I don’t hesitate in stepping through the portal he creates into Necos’s living room— our living room? I don’t know—but I do look back when Eirik doesn’t immediately follow.
“Do me a favour, Ladiur, and tell whoever you’re working for that this isn’t over.”
Dr Kunya’s eyes widen, and Eirik salutes him before following Zohar and I through the portal.
My heart is pounding, but they’re here, and we’re safe.
“I’m so proud of you, dragonfly,” Zohar says softly. He brushes a kiss to my temple, holding me close to his chest.
“We’ll figure this out, darling,” Eirik adds, a tightness in his expression that Zohar seems to lack.
My legs are barely working, fear twisting in my gut, but the solemn promise from Eirik is enough.
I believe him.
I trust him.