TWENTY #2
“It took perhaps six months of them activating the rune every day, for me to realise the toll it was taking on me. I would go into a kind of stupor, the magic propelling me, absorbing information rapidly, conducting experiments no fourteen-year-old had any business participating in. But I would wake with headaches, my nose begun to bleed, and I slowly became sick. When it was activated, my body only cared for the pursuit of knowledge, not eating, or hydrating correctly. I felt like a puppet, something my parents had created for their own desires with no care for my own.”
She paused, inhaling shakily. Turning away from the fireplace, she moved to the armchair, sinking into it. Amelia stared down at her fingers.
“I told them I didn’t want to do it anymore, that I didn’t want them to activate the rune. I tried to convince them that I could be good enough on my own, that I didn’t need it to…”
She trailed off, voice hitching and hiding her face from him. Silas forced himself to be still instead of falling at her feet to comfort her.
“That was when they forced the ‘obedience’ rune on me,” she said, voice trembling.
Her hand brushed angrily at her face, swiping a tear away.
His heart felt like it was breaking for her.
“When they activated both runes, I had no choices, everything I was stripped away. I…I don’t remember much between the ages of fifteen and seventeen. ”
Silas swore roughly, her confession so much worse than he had expected.
“It was Halpert who noticed there was something wrong with me,” she muttered. “He barely knew me, but he could tell I wasn’t normal. He confronted my parents, and they denied everything.”
Silas felt a surge of newfound respect for Halpert.
“With the obedience rune activated, I was forced to not say anything, to keep the runes to myself. With Halpert watching closely, they felt less comfortable activating them every day. Eventually, I gained enough control to run away. I went to East Town to regain my bearings, and a friend kept me hidden until I…I don’t know, became myself again, I suppose. I didn’t go back for nearly a year.
“When I did return, I was still terrified of them. But I was eighteen and I wanted my life back. I still wanted to dedicate my life to science, just on my own terms. I threatened to ruin their careers if they came near me again. They started working in a smaller university north, with only brief trips back to Ivory City, and up until now I’ve always managed to avoid them.
We haven’t spoken directly in almost ten years. ”
She picked at her nails, the room descending into silence.
“You—you never reported them?”
Amelia shook her head. “Cowardly, I know. I was afraid I wouldn’t be believed. I had no proof they were the ones who’d done it. They’re at the top of their fields and highly revered…I just wanted to move on with my life.”
Silas breathed out roughly, trying to control his emotions. “Is that why you’ve been so…relentless, so determined to be on top?”
She shrugged. “For so long I could never celebrate any achievement I ever made, because I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was an obligation to achieve them. I’ve tried breaking through that, but I suppose it made me quite…competitive, or overly eager to prove myself.”
Her parents had instilled that message. That she was worth nothing if she didn’t contribute to society.
The picture became clearer, the puzzle pieces slotting into place, why she was so competitive and steadfast in working alone.
Her thirst to prove she was worthy overtook everything else until it became her entire personality.
She sighed again. “As long as I stay away from them, I feel safe. They’re the only ones who know how to activate the runes.”
She shifted with discomfort, looking bereft.
Silas moved to her, sinking to his knees before her. She lifted her head slowly, his stomach turning to see unshed tears in her eyes.
“What they did to you was evil,” he said vehemently, “and they should be locked up for it.” She averted her gaze with a frown.
Protectiveness swept through him again. “I first saw you when I was eighteen, during my first visit to the Spire’s library.
I’ve only known you… after , and to me, you’ve always been the most inspirational, intelligent, fiercely brave, quick-witted, and wildly interesting woman I have ever known. ”
She looked up, eyes widening.
Silas gripped her knees softly. “That was all you. You have nothing to prove, not to your parents, not to me, not to anyone . Do you understand?”
Her lips parted, breath faltering. For a moment she just blinked, the words hanging in the air.
Silas knew she could never take a compliment, and now he recognised why, but his words seemed to land like a stone in a still pond.
She let out a trembling breath. “I…I’m not sure I can help it sometimes. I am what they made me.”
Silas moved his other hand to sit across hers. “Don’t let them steal the person you were always meant to be. You are the storm. Never forget that.”
Her expression slowly softened, dark eyes warming.
“You keep surprising me.”
He gave her a half-smile. “You don’t like surprises?”
“Not particularly,” she admitted, accompanied by a soft smile. “But you’ve been a good one.”
They lingered in the quiet space between their heartbeats, his hand cradling hers, heat blooming where their skin met. Reluctantly, he slid his hand from hers, rising to his feet.
“Right,” he said, “emotional connection works. I think it’s getting stronger.”
She stood slowly, a long, weighted exhale slipping from her lungs. “Do you think we could read each other’s minds?” Amelia asked, not sounding thrilled by the prospect.
“I don’t think so. Did you want to try?”
She laughed under her breath. “Not sure I’d want to find out, but…let’s give it a go.”
“Okay. We’ll try eye contact while you focus on me, and I’ll think of something specific.”
“Alright.”
She inched closer, hesitation flickering in her eyes, but she didn’t look away.
He focused on Amelia, one sentence circling through his mind, echoing like a truth he could never outrun.
You are the storm. You are the storm. You are the storm.
A minute passed before she blinked, shaking her head. “I don’t hear anything.”
He chuckled lightly. “Well, that’s a relief.”
She raised a brow, curiosity sharp in her eyes. “Why? What were you thinking?”
Silas laughed again. “Wouldn’t be fair to tell you in the middle of a controlled test.”
She scoffed but let it drop.
“Do you think we could simulate the pull without midnight?” Amelia asked, voice low but tentative.
“When we move apart, I feel something, like a tether pulling us together, right here.” She pressed a hand to the centre of her chest, and he recognised the feeling well.
“Could we pull on that tether, to transport to each other?”
Silas paused, chewing the corner of his lip thoughtfully. “An intriguing concept. Let’s try.”
They positioned themselves at opposite ends of the apartment, just far enough that the invisible thread between them tugged faintly. Each would focus inwards, picturing that thread tightening, the distance dissolving, mimicking the midnight pull.
Minutes stretched, then thirty minutes. Concentration weighed heavily in the room, but progress was elusive.
The closest they came was when Silas, overcome by a surge of desire to be near her after staring for so long, felt his body shift beyond his control, only to stumble forwards and drop to one knee.
Defeated but undeterred, they abandoned the test, turning instead to their individual magical experiments.
Amelia concentrated, attempting to move a small object with the same focus from Silas’ lab. Despite her effort, the item barely twitched.
Silas, confident from mastering the movement of both heavy and light objects, tried coaxing the arcane lamps to burn brighter.
Instead, the opposite happened, the crystal dimming and dying unexpectedly.
Amelia grumbled about having only one spare left as she swapped out the crystals, shooting Silas a pointed look before telling him to ‘ play with something else ’. A request that was, frankly, risky.
He settled on moving her couches around the room, which she wasn’t thrilled about either.
Amelia plonked down on the edge of her bed with arms folded, watching Silas rearrange the space with a stormy expression.
He tried explaining his process, but nothing seemed to click for Amelia in the way it did for him. He’d even suggested she hold her dagger while trying, but it made no difference. Silas couldn’t help but wonder if her growing frustration was only making it harder for her to connect to the magic.
They stored their daggers away in their holsters, both collapsing with weary sighs, Silas into an armchair and Amelia flopping onto her bed.
Exhausted, he grimaced while feeling Amelia’s own fatigue rippling through him. The use of magic was notably draining. He had been marking the effect in his journal but was yet to learn all the limitations of the magic.
“Finley?”
His eyes stayed shut. “Mm?”
“I’m beat and don’t fancy being woken at midnight,” she said slowly, voice carrying the weight of someone debating whether to say it at all.
He peeled his tired eyes open and turned his head, spotting her lying on her back, arms thrown upwards to cover her face, a small sliver of bare skin showing as her top had ridden up slightly.
“Alright?” he asked quietly.
She released a long breath. “I know my bed is small, but would you…would you sleep here with me? Perhaps then the pull won’t wake us.”
The room seemed to hold its breath as the request hung between them, and suddenly he felt anything but tired. He straightened in his chair, eyes fixed on her, still shielded behind her forearms.
Silas brushed his knees nervously but knew his answer before the word left his mouth.
“Yeah.”
Amelia pushed up on her elbows, meeting his gaze. “Yeah?”
He nodded once, rising to his feet. “Yeah.”
A sigh of relief escaped her as she settled back onto the bed, the tension in her shoulders easing. “Thank you.”
They prepared for bed. Silas changed into a borrowed shirt and a pair of shorts, clothes he wouldn’t usually wear to bed, but given the circumstances, he wanted to be clothed.
Amelia seemed to share the sentiment, emerging from the bathroom in long pyjama bottoms and long-sleeved shirt, as if shielding as much skin as possible.
He might have smiled at the similarity if the moment hadn’t felt so heavy.
Getting into bed with Amelia Winslow was achingly bittersweet.
Her trust was a rare, precious gift, one that filled him with pride and gratitude.
Yet being this close to her, touching her to soften the pull between them, felt strangely wrong while Amelia believed their growing connection was the bond’s doing.
He knew better.
He had harboured an attraction that had simmered for nine years.
Silas wasn’t foolish enough to miss that it was one-sided.
He knew Amelia’s sharp disdain for nearly everyone around her had included him.
Especially him. And now, with painful clarity, he understood why their rivalry had cut so deep for her.
Her desperate need to best everyone, to prove her worth, was ingrained in her even while being entirely unnecessary.
Hadn’t she known she was already better than him in every way?
Silas had known it the moment he first saw her in the library.
“Alright, Winslow,” he said, pulling back the covers from the side of the bed, “like you said, small bed, so budge up. I’m no waif like you.”
“Lamps, if you please,” Amelia responded, shifting slightly to the edge of the bed, facing away, and clutching the blankets to her chest.
Silas rolled his eyes but complied, dimming the lamps until they cast only a faint glow, just enough to guide his way back to the bed.
He slid in beside her.
A small bed indeed.
Wrapped in the blankets, he faced the centre of her bed, his nose barely an inch from the soft curls spilling freely across the pillow. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, trying to keep a respectful distance.
“Finley,” she said, voice thick with sleep’s promise, “you’ll need to be closer, touching me…for midnight.”
“If you say so,” Silas whispered, inching closer until his forearm brushed her back. Feeling bolder than he should, he wrapped his arm gently around her waist, tugging her into him.
Amelia offered no resistance. Instead, she relaxed deeper into his hold, a soft breath escaping her lips.
His eyes drifted closed as his fatigue tugged him closer towards sleep. The warmth of her against him, the safety of holding her close, brought a comfort he wasn’t sure he’d ever known.
His last waking though before sleep claimed him was of her.
So tired, he barely realised the words slipped from his lips into the dark.
“I wish you were mine, my storm.”