~ Chapter Ten ~
I nstead of landing on his ass today, Regan did his fair share of knocking the Twins to the ground.
He didn’t have any distractions and found that he could channel his hurt and anger into his training.
And train he did. He didn’t ask questions of the Twins, only doing what they instructed.
Any opportunity he had to drop them down he took.
The Twins appeared older today, not a surprise—perhaps they were fifteen or sixteen, he wasn’t sure.
Regan skipped the Twins’ offer to have lunch, barely stopping for water.
The few times the Twins insisted on a break, he managed to find questions to ask, suiting his needs.
“Today was difficult to contact you.” Regan wiped the sweat from his brow. “When I’m not in the grove, what do I need to do to make our connection and contact easier?”
“You need to focus on us,” the Water Twin offered.
“Close your eyes, breathe, and reach out. We’ll be there,” the Electrical Twin added, pushing bolts of electricity between their hands to create sparks dancing above their fingers.
With the new information, they practiced the skill to the point where Regan barely had to think about the Twins before he would appear in their realm, or they would appear to him. The process wasn’t as difficult as he anticipated—he needed to focus, which became easier the more he trained.
When the three stopped again, Regan found another question. “How can I block other magical beings?” Despite the looks the Twins gave each other, they showed him what he needed to do and they worked on both physical and mental blocks.
Growing more confident and less interested in stopping, Regan grew tired and he couldn’t keep the pace he set for himself without another rest. He managed to ask as he bent over, taking in several deep breaths, “If I need to fight another magical creature, say a Fae or something more, how can I defeat them?”
The Twins paused and moved together, then stopped in front of Regan. They watched him for several minutes in silence. Finally, the question came. “What happened to you?” the Water Twin asked, their blue eyes filling with a growing storm.
“Nothing,” Regan lied. “There’s a lot I need to learn and understand. Plus, there are creatures that can hurt me. I want to be able to defend myself.” The words dropped like acid from his mouth.
“We will not show you how to kill.” The Electrical Twin frowned, sparks dancing all around them.
“So, you’ll let me die due to ignorance?” Regan snipped back, balling his hands. “I thought I was your parent.”
“You were part of our creation, but you’re not our parent.
That was a poor choice of words,” the Water Twin said.
They had grown about an inch or two taller than their Electric Twin.
Maybe the growth spurt happened over the course of their training today, or perhaps they were like that since they began—either way, Regan didn’t notice until now.
“We share a bond,” the Electric Twin added as their dark eyes sparked. “And we know you are hurting. What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I want to be taught.
” Regan shot a bolt of lightning, not at the Twins but near enough to make a point.
He followed the lightning strike with a downpour of heavy rain.
He had learned to pull the elements from the environment surrounding him.
Tapping the elements wasn’t as hard as he thought originally and he found that he quite enjoyed having all this power at his beck and call.
“Enough!” the Water Twin shouted as a wave pushed Regan to the ground and held him in place.
A growl like thunder came from the Water Twin, as if hearing a storm right off the coast. There wasn’t a fire in their eyes, but a storm, the blue reflecting the front of a hurricane and chilling Regan to the core.
He broke contact, dropping his gaze to the damp grass under him.
Struggling, Regan couldn’t move as water held him in place and he couldn’t shift under the pressure.
Waves slowly began to cover his chin and the sides of his head, moving to his mouth and nose.
Soon there would be no air for him to breathe and there was no noise he could make.
He tried to tap into his powers, but nothing came.
He tried to block. To defend. But again, he was powerless against the onslaught.
“Corcess!” the Electric Twin shouted. “Stop, you’ll kill him.”
“He’s becoming dangerous, Volrent.” Corcess didn’t look at their twin, only focusing on Regan as they spoke. “His anger and hurt will cause harm. We’ve seen his rage grow today. We can’t allow it.” Finally, they shifted their gaze to their twin.
“Corcess. Please stop.” Volrent’s tone was soft and gentle. “Regan will be fine. He’s in pain, yes. But he will come around, as in the past.”
“And how much damage did he cause then?” Corcess countered, sneering back at Regan.
“Please.” Volrent pleaded, resting a hand on their shoulder.
Corcess waved a hand and the water vanished, and Regan stood on his two shaky legs.
“I’m…” Regan shook his head. “You…”
“Perhaps we should stop here,” Volrent offered, their voice level. No sparks filled the air around them. “Give you time to think and clear your mind. Corcess is correct—you are too angry to learn today. We should have stopped you sooner.”
“Sorry.” Regan tugged at his black graphite hoop earrings. Heat quickly rose from his chest to his neck. They were correct—he was angry and hurt, but not at them. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His shoulders hunched as his gaze landed on the wet ground before him.
“We know.” Corcess turned to face Regan, their blond hair falling over their downcast drooping eyes, any brightness now gone. “But for now, we’re going to take a break and reflect.” They waved a hand and Regan stood at the cabin door, dripping wet.
Regan shook off as much of the water as possible while glancing around at the trees and the mid-day sun.
Lucky for him, the day was clear and the weather warm.
Still, a shudder ran down his back as a disappointed frown pulled at his lips.
He tapped off the water from his feet. He tried to pull the water from his clothing and the rest of him, but he appeared to be cut off from the element.
Raising a hand, he pointed to the porch light, trying to call up some electrics. Nothing happened.
“They cut me off.” He shook his head, the lack of connection filling him with a whole new kind of loneliness. He had never felt this alone, not even when Max died. “They grounded me.”
Can’t say I blame them.
He needed to pull off all his clothes and leave them out here to dry, but he…
He peeked around. There was no one and nothing to see—he was here in the quiet all alone.
Still, someone could be out there, and he had no intention of being naked on the front porch of the cabin.
He pulled off his shoes and socks to leave them by the door.
His cold feet rubbed against the concrete and dirt, which quickly became mud.
“Great.” Tugging off his shirt, he dropped the wet article of clothing to the ground, and cleaned off his feet so he wouldn’t track mud into the house.
With somewhat clean feet, he opened the door. “I need to clean up this mess.”
In the bedroom, he undressed and put everything into the washer.
He slipped on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before making his way to the fireplace in the primary bedroom to create a fire.
The house wasn’t cold, but he was. Even if he planned on showering, he wanted to come out into a warm space.
Something about how Corcess held him at bay chilled him more than the water.
With the fire started, he made his way to the bathroom and got into the shower to clean and warm up.
Once finished with using the bathroom, he sat in his sweats and a t-shirt in front of the fire, warming up.
He watched as the flames played out the day’s events, each flame a representation of him and the Twins.
The more he watched the mental replay in the fire, the more he focused on his encounter with the Twins.
They have names. I know their names: Volrent and Corcess.
“Those are odd names. I wonder if they have any meaning,” he spoke to the fire as he poked the burning logs with the wrought iron poker.
Was he doing this to end the dancing images of the day’s folly or to kick up the embers and throw off more heat?
Satisfied, he put the poker away and paced the floor.
Anger and hurt filled him today. He hadn’t had that amount of pain rushing through him since Max’s passing.
How could Lutin affect him in such a way, and how could he allow himself to be in that kind of situation?
He needed to accept he was going to be alone, and in the grand scheme of the universe, he was a big fat no one.
The only people to see anything different were gone.
He pushed the hopes of being anything more away.
There was no way he would let that happen again—he was too old for that kind of shit and those kinds of dreams.
He blamed Lutin. You don’t ghost someone.
No note. No message. Nothing. And he still hadn’t heard a peep from Lutin.
Well, that wasn’t quite true—there had been a knock at the door last night that he ignored.
Still, Lutin was probably off flitting about.
He read in one of Max’s books—or was it Max’s journal?
—Fae could be flighty. One moment they are there, and the next you don’t see or hear from them for months, if not years.
But Lutin didn’t seem like that sort. But what do I really know about him? Nothing. Well, nothing but what Max told me in the letter and the little bits I’ve gleaned from Lutin himself.