Prologue #2
“I figured as much.” Feo hung up their cloak, then trudged into the kitchen. They retrieved a bottle of amber liquor and poured a drink. “We were meeting tonight… so if you’re cutting into those plans with a visit to the Academy, I presume you don’t have good news. Go on, then. Say what you need.”
Wylan drew a shaking breath. “I’m not happy.”
Feo physically faltered. Their fingers tightened around the glass tumbler, and they took a long swig, leaning against the countertop.
They didn’t reply.
Wylan filled the silence. “I haven’t been happy for a while, Feo.
I realized it over the Midwinter Celebration, when you were too busy crafting a new curriculum to meet me at the tavern.
And again, during the planting ceremony this Spring.
Kianthe commented on the fact you weren’t there, and I made excuses.
But then you missed Quinn’s birthday and the first summer market and the fall harvest and—” Wylan cut himself off, realizing he was rambling.
He clenched his eyes shut to avoid Feo’s unimpassioned gaze.
“I’m proud of what you’ve done. But I feel like I’m in competition with a school… and I’m losing.”
Feo waited to see if Wylan was going to speak again. It wasn’t a courtesy. It felt more like they were entertaining him, placating his tantrum like they might for Quinn, the toddler.
And that was irritating, too.
“Well?” Wylan demanded.
“It’s not my responsibility to make you happy,” Feo replied. Their jaw was tight.
Wylan felt like that was horse shit. “You’re my partner.” That shouldn’t need more explanation.
Feo lifted their chin and took a long swig of the liquor.
It was from one of the distilleries in the Roiling Isles, likely a gift from Dreggs, delivered via Minny.
Wylan personally hated it—it was far too strong, and burned all the way down.
He’d cut it with honey and water on occasion, and that was the only way he tolerated it.
Feo drank like it was juice. Their hand was trembling, Wylan noticed, but it didn’t show on the Alchemicor’s mild expression.
When half the liquor was gone, Feo swirled the remaining and said, “It’s possible we have different definitions of ‘partnership.’ You aren’t competing with a school—but the Academy is the most important thing to happen in my lifetime and yours. ”
“This isn’t about alchemy.”
“Everything is about alchemy,” Feo snapped. “Since departing my position in Shepara’s Council to become the Alchemicor, alchemy dominates everything I am. What did you think that title meant? The Alchemicor, the Alchemist of Eras?”
Wylan crossed his arms. “To be honest, I thought you were making fun of Kianthe. None of us took that seriously.”
“Shock and awe.” Feo’s words were deadpan and bitter.
“Very few take me seriously… and the rest always realize their mistake, given enough time.” They pushed off the countertop and moved into the living room, dropping into a well-worn chair by the hearth.
“Admittedly, I thought you were different, Wy.”
“Don’t start, Feo. I have always loved how you take what you want,” Wylan retorted, eyeing the liquor.
Fuck it. He helped himself to a glass, taking a swig.
It seared his throat, and he barely refrained from making a face—but it did warm him from the inside out, and gave him the courage to add, “But lately, it feels like you don’t want me. ”
Feo’s brow furrowed, and they sounded irritated now. “I’ve never missed a jaunt—”
“I’m not talking about sex, Feo,” Wylan growled.
Silence settled over them like smoke from a fire, sucking the air out of the room.
Feo pressed their lips together. “Sex was the last real connection we had. I don’t exist to make you happy, and it appears that I’m actively doing the opposite just by being myself. Let’s be very honest about what this conversation is: our partnership is concluding.”
Always transactional. Wylan had never been more certain of the path forward. This was awful… and it had to happen. “If we’re being honest, our partnership was over several seasons ago. I just spent them hoping I was wrong.”
“Well.” For a moment, Wylan almost thought Feo’s voice was choked. But when they spoke again, they sounded confident, strong. Stronger than Wylan, anyway, and that was nothing short of frustrating. “Thank you for a nice arrangement, however brief. I wish you the best in Tawney, my lord.”
Brief… like they hadn’t danced around each other for years, sinking further and further into a love Wylan never thought he’d experience.
I wish you the best, like they hadn’t spent holidays kissing by the fire, like they hadn’t whispered their greatest fears and hopes to each other in the dead of night.
Wylan could have argued, but frankly, Feo made one thing easy. Wylan had arrived for a task, and Feo was detached enough, numb enough, to ensure it didn’t get messy. So… this was it.
Wylan left the empty glass on the countertop. His heart had broken long ago, but now he ice hardened around the pieces. Years and years together, engaging in witticisms, sneaking around town, challenging each other to do better, be better, and this was how it ended.
Wylan should have known.
“Best fortune with the Academy, Alchemicor. I hope it’s everything you’ve wanted from life.”
He didn’t give Feo a chance to rebuke. He swept out of the stone cottage, past the Arcanium and its pulsing barriers. As he neared the Academy gates, he approached Minny the pirate. She was finishing another cigar, and quirked an eyebrow as Wylan stormed past.
“Guessin’ that conversation didn’t go well?” she asked.
“Don’t ask,” Wylan said stiffly, knowing that just by Minny seeing him, word would spread around Tawney.
Minny would tell Nurt and Sigmund, and they would tell Kianthe and Reyna, who would tell Matild and Tarly and everyone else.
That shouldn’t have bothered him, but for some reason it felt like a failure, like Wylan had given up on a relationship everyone expected would work, just because it always had.
The end of an era, indeed.
Without another word to Minny, Wylan plowed onto a snow-soaked forest path, putting distance between himself and the school. He made it fifty steps before he realized something important: Feo wasn’t going to follow.
It shouldn’t have felt like a dagger to the chest, but it did.
Only when Wylan was deep in the quiet solitude of the forest east of Tawney, far enough away from the Academy to have true privacy, did he rub the tears stinging his eyes, grip his hair in tight hands, and scream.