Chapter 8 Phoenix
Phoenix
Iwaited until Thomas had gone to class, complaining of an upset stomach to throw him off my trail. He left with a huff, irritated that I wouldn’t let him perform a simple spell to cure me. I told him it was a genetic thing, something that magic couldn’t fix. That seemed to appease him.
The moment he was gone, I sprang up from the bed and got dressed. It was time to go to the library and see if my hunch about my parents modifying my memory was correct.
The pendant around my neck felt unnaturally cold against my skin as I hurried across campus.
The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of autumn leaves and ancient magic that permeated the academy grounds.
Few students were out at this time, most of them already in class for the day, which suited me perfectly.
The fewer people who saw me heading to the library, the better.
My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a reminder of the anger that had been building since I’d first suspected my memories had been tampered with.
Who gives anyone the right to mess with someone else’s mind?
Even if they were my parents, even if they thought they were protecting me, it was violation in its purest form.
Up until now I had trusted them, at least in some capacity.
I trusted they wouldn’t hurt me, that they only wanted what was best for me.
But now I realized all of that might be a lie.
Only time and a spell would prove if my trust was built on a foundation of lies.
The library loomed ahead, a gothic structure of dark stone and stained-glass windows that depicted various magical disciplines. Inside, the scent of old parchment and binding glue greeted me. The main hall was empty except for a few early risers hunched over their studies.
“Good morning, Mr. Emberwood,” the witch librarian said, eyeing me over her spectacles. “Early research today?”
I forced a smile. “Yes, Mrs. Wilcox. Just some independent study for an early class project.”
She nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer.
I made my way to the section on memory and cognitive magics, careful to keep my movements casual.
The library had high vaulted ceilings that seemed to whisper with the collected knowledge of centuries.
Rows upon rows of ancient texts lined the walls, their spines worn from countless hands seeking wisdom.
After scanning the shelves, I pulled several promising volumes.
Advanced Memory Manipulation, Ethical Boundaries in Mind Magic, and Recognizing and Reversing Cognitive Alterations.
My fingers trembled slightly as I carried them to a secluded table in the corner, partially hidden behind a tall bookshelf.
I opened the first book, my eyes scanning the pages hungrily.
According to the text, memory modifications often left subtle traces, dreams that felt too real, emotional responses that seemed disproportionate, or knowledge gaps that couldn’t be explained.
I’d experienced all three. My suspicions grew stronger with each paragraph I read.
“There are several methods to detect memory tampering,” I murmured, tracing the words with my finger. “The most reliable being a reversal incantation performed with black salt and a focus object from the original memory.”
I cursed under my breath. I didn’t have anything from my time in Oregon. Everything tied to that place had been left behind. And the boy from my memories was too blurry to get a fix on. I had no idea who he was.
“Phoenix?” a timid voice said, pulling me from my thoughts.
I looked up to see the Beastkin I’d run into the day before, a pained but angry look on his face.
My heart slammed against my ribs as I stared up at him.
The massive Beastkin filled the space between the bookshelves, his dark fur catching the filtered light from the stained-glass windows.
Those amber eyes I’d glimpsed yesterday were fixed on me with an intensity that made my mouth go dry.
“H-Hi,” I started, gulping audibly. I was having a strong emotional response to this man, but I didn’t understand why. “I think we met yesterday, right?”
His jaw clenched, and I watched as his hands slowly curled into fists at his sides. The air between us seemed to crackle with tension, and I had the strangest urge to reach out and touch him, to somehow soothe whatever pain I could see flickering behind those amber eyes.
“Met,” he repeated, his voice rough with an emotion I couldn’t identify. “Right. We met.”
Something in his tone made my chest ache. The pendant around my neck suddenly flared with heat, so intense I had to resist the urge to yank it away from my skin. I pressed my palm against it through my shirt, trying to muffle the burning sensation.
“Are you... are you alright?” I asked, genuinely concerned by the way he was looking at me. Like I’d somehow wounded him just by existing.
He let out a bitter laugh that made my stomach twist. “Am I alright? That’s rich, Phoenix.”
The way he said my name sent shivers down my spine. There was familiarity there, intimacy even, like he’d spoken it a thousand times before. But that was impossible. I would remember someone like him. Wouldn’t I?
“How do you know my name?” I whispered, my fingers tightening on the book in front of me.
His expression cracked for just a moment, revealing something raw and desperate underneath. “How do I know your name? Fucking hell, Phoenix. We were best friends! We were everything to each other. And you’re sitting here asking me how I know your fucking name?”
My heart stopped. The pendant burned hotter against my chest, and suddenly the library felt like it was spinning around me. “Best friends? But I... I don’t...”
“Remember me,” he finished, his voice hollow. “Yeah, I got that message loud and clear yesterday.”
I stared at him, my mind racing. The boy from my dreams, the one I couldn’t quite see clearly. Dark hair, warm eyes, a laugh that made me feel safe. Could it be...?
“Karrick,” I breathed, the name falling from my lips without conscious thought.
The effect was immediate. His entire body went rigid, and for a moment I thought he might actually collapse. “You do remember.”
“I...” I pressed my palm harder against the burning pendant, my thoughts fragmenting. “I remember fragments. Dreams, maybe. A boy who... who could change into something wild. But my parents said...”
“What did they say?” His voice was deadly quiet now, and he took a step closer to my table.
I looked down at the books spread before me, the titles suddenly feeling like an indictment.
“They said I had an overactive imagination. That I made up imaginary friends to cope with being lonely.” The words tasted like ash in my mouth.
“But these books... I think they might have done something to my memories.”
Karrick’s eyes followed my gaze to the texts on memory modification, and I watched as understanding dawned across his features. The anger in his eyes intensified and without warning, he slammed his fist down on the table. The moment his palm struck the wood, it burst into flames.
“Shit!” I scrambled back from the table, nearly toppling my chair as the flames licked upward from the wood.
My instinct to control the fire kicked in automatically, my hand extending as I pulled the heat into my palm, smothering it before it could spread.
As I pulled my hand away, nothing was left but a smear of charcoal and charred wood.
“I’m sorry,” Karrick growled, looking horrified at what he’d done. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” I whispered, my heart hammering. I glanced around frantically, but miraculously, no one seemed to have noticed our little pyrotechnic display. Mrs. Wilcox was busy helping a student at the far end of the library. “I put it out before anyone saw.”
The charred mark on the table told a different story, but that was a problem for another time. Right now, my mind was reeling. Karrick. The name felt right on my tongue, familiar in a way that made my chest ache with recognition.
“You’re the boy from my dreams,” I said softly, studying his face. Those amber eyes, the strong jawline, the tusks that protruded slightly from his lower lip, they sparked something in me, like static electricity jumping between disconnected wires.
“Dreams?” Karrick stepped closer, his massive form looming over me. “What dreams?”
The pendant against my chest pulsed with heat again, making me wince. “I’ve been having these... memories, I guess. Of a boy I used to play with in the woods. But I can never see his face clearly. My parents always told me he wasn’t real.”
Karrick’s expression darkened. “I was real, Phoenix. We were real. We spent every summer together for three years. Your parents...” He trailed off, seeming to struggle with his words. “Your parents took you away. No goodbye, nothing. You were just… gone.”
The hurt in his voice was palpable. He’d been living with the memories his whole life, wondering why I’d just abandoned him. And yet, I was allowed to go on living as if nothing had ever happened. It seemed incredibly unfair and cruel to us both.
My throat tightened. “That’s why we moved so suddenly.” It wasn’t a question. The pieces were falling into place, forming a picture I wasn’t sure I wanted to see. “They modified my memories. They made me forget you.”
I looked down at the books again, feeling sick to my stomach. The pendant burned against my skin, a constant reminder of their control.
“What’s that?” Karrick asked, nodding toward my chest where I was still pressing my hand against the painful but invisible amulet.
I hesitated, then slowly pulled the chain from beneath my shirt. But neither of us could see it. Karrick just stared with a confused look on his face.
“My parents gave it to me before I left for Widdershins,” I explained, watching his expression carefully. “For protection, they said. But it… it burns whenever I get too close to someone who’s not… a witch.”
Karrick’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not protection,” he growled. “That’s a leash.”
“I… I know,” I whispered, the words hitting even harder now that I said them out loud. “I thought I was coming to Widdershins to finally be free, to make my own choices… but now…”
“Can’t you get rid of it?” Karrick asked, taking a step back to give me some room. He clearly wanted to help but was afraid to get any closer.
“I don’t know how,” I replied, shaking my head. “My father is much more powerful than me. And if I take it off… they’ll know instantly. They are always watching.”
“Then let’s go to Professor Blackwood,” Karrick suggested.
“I don’t know shit about magic and she… well, she’s reformed.
And not just by her own admission. I reached out to Atlas about her, and I guess she’s legit now?
” He shrugged like he couldn’t even believe it himself. “But she would help you. I know it.”
I stared at him, my mind reeling. Professor Blackwood, the same woman who’d terrorized half the academy just a few years ago? The idea of trusting her with something this personal, this dangerous, made my stomach churn.
“I don’t know,” I said slowly, glancing back at the books spread across the charred table. “What if she tells my parents? What if this is some kind of test they’ve set up?”
The paranoia felt foreign on my tongue, but I couldn’t shake it. How long had my parents been manipulating my life? How deep did their control go?
Karrick’s expression softened, and for a moment I caught a glimpse of the boy from my fractured memories. “Phoenix, look at me.”
I did, meeting those amber eyes that seemed to see straight through to my soul.
“I know you don’t remember everything yet, but I need you to trust me. We were best friends. I would never let anyone hurt you. Not then, not now.” His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “Your parents already took you away once. I won’t let them keep hurting you like this.”
The pendant flared with such intense heat that I gasped, doubling over as the metal seemed to brand itself against my chest. Karrick started forward instinctively, then stopped himself, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
“Shit, Phoenix—”
“I’m fine,” I lied, straightening up despite the burning sensation. “It does that when... when I’m around...” I trailed off, quickly consumed by the complex emotions churning inside me. Recognition, longing, fear, anger, all tangled together in a knot I couldn’t untie.
Something cracked in Karrick’s expression, pain so raw it made my chest ache in sympathy. “Jesus, Phoenix. What have they done to you?”
I gathered the books, stacking them with shaking hands. “Help me figure out how to reverse the memory modification. Please. I need to know what they took from me. I need to remember you.”
He nodded without hesitation. “Bring them with you. We’re going to Professor Blackwood right now.”
I nodded, feeling like there was no other choice. “Okay,” I said at last. “Let’s go.”