Chapter 22
Faylinn
Iclomped my way inside the manor, the toes of the black leather boots I’d been forced into this morning biting my flesh with every step.
Stupid fucking things. Who seriously wants to wear shoes every day?
I knew one person specifically who had a penchant for uniformity and comfortable footwear, but I was refusing to think of him at the moment.
He was back in Vespera. I’d seen a glimpse of his black hair, longer after six months away, but I’d quickly averted my eyes. I didn’t want, nor did I need, to see him.
It would just elicit emotions that I had no business feeling at the moment, especially with all that I had on my plate currently.
After he sent me back here with Ellowyn and Lord d’Refan, I was quickly named Rune Master, which progressed into Rune Master to the Crown. A gaudy title that I had no desire to hold. But without the one person who could easily temper Lord d’Refan’s demands . . . I was forced to take the position.
Forced to continue administering Life Bonds to Mages that I now knew without a shred of uncertainty were not actually sick.
Why Lord d’Refan wanted these Bonds was still unclear, even after the countless hours of research I’d done in the past six months.
I had nearly exhausted the books in the manor’s library and eventually needed to venture into the library at the Academy.
But that building made the scars on my arms itch and my heart race.
I’d avoided it up until this point, but knew that if I really wanted answers, I’d have to go inside.
A problem for another day. For now, at least.
I stomped up the stairs to my room, carefully avoiding the Mages stationed inside and the servants that bustled about. I was in no mood for conversation, frivolous or otherwise. Blessedly, the path to my room was free and clear of other souls, and I quickly unlocked my door with my key.
The entire manor—the entirety of Vespera, really—used a type of orb that detected a magical signature to lock and guard the many secrets that existed behind an infinite number of doors.
The invention itself was convenient and a really great lock—the only issue was that I didn’t possess magic and, thus, had no magical signature.
Art and Gene—the male Mages who made up the Magical Experiments division in Vespera—were stumped by my existence.
Apparently, they’d never come across another person like me before, and spent countless hours studying my reaction to and interaction with magic.
After many failed attempts by Gene and Art to get the orbs to respond to the innate magic that existed within my blood, they gave me a small, flat disc that contained a bit of their magic.
All I had to do was hold the disk to the orb, and the doors unlocked for me.
It was an ingenious way to circumvent the problem, but the magic seemed to run out quickly.
I was fearful that I’d be unable to access my room if the magic evaporated during the day, so Art and Gene installed a normal lock on my door.
It was a bit of normalcy in an otherwise progressive city, and I appreciated the heavy feeling of an iron key in my pocket.
I sucked in my first full breath of the day as I quickly scooted inside my room before shutting and locking the door with a heavy thump. If a Mage was determined to enter my space, the lock would only slow down their entry rather than prevent it fully, but it still gave me an extra sense of peace.
After all the shit I experienced in Isrun and now here in Vespera, I took every extra measure offered.
“Meow.” I was greeted by my rather cantankerous cat, Cotton, before I even turned from the door. A smile stretched across my lips as my body relaxed, the sound of his little voice mixed with the calming smell of old books and parchment finally easing the tension in my shoulders.
I groaned as I sank into the only unoccupied armchair in my sitting room.
“Cotton, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had,” I muttered as I tugged the offending footwear off my feet and aggressively flung them haphazardly into the room.
The heavy soles thunked as they rolled between a pile of books stacked precariously in front of the once usable couch.
Now it was just as cluttered with books and papers as the rest of my sitting room.
“Meeow,” Cotton grumbled in distaste with a swish of his tail against the floor.
I rolled my eyes, groaned, and flexed my bare toes as Cotton made a huffing sound.
“If you were made to wear those foot prisons all day, you’d do the same thing,” I replied dryly, closing my eyes for a moment as I laid my head against the back of the chair.
My curly hair flopped lightly against my forehead and shoulders as I rocked my head back and forth, trying to use the chair back to massage the headache away from the back of my skull.
It wasn’t working.
I heard Cotton pad over to my chair before springing soundlessly off the ground and onto my lap. He prodded my legs a few times with his paws before circling twice and curling up on my lap, a steady purr rising from his chest.
Sighing, I lazily stroked his fluffy grey fur as I tried to take a quick nap before the rest of the day began, one that would inevitably be filled with more Forced Bonds and menial tasks.
The shallow scrapes on my arms pulsed in a deep ache at the thought, even as I felt the Healing Runes I’d recently etched into my forearms work to heal the cuts.
It seemed that Lord d’Refan wanted to fill every minute of my day for his own purposes, which left me very little time to pursue my own research and endeavors. Research that was becoming vitally important to figuring out the enigma that was Lord d’Refan.
His tasks were so varied, with no string of congruence between them, that it left me feeling off-kilter each time I completed another obscure translation. Perhaps, though, that was his goal.
I’d start the day with a few Bonding ceremonies before making my rounds to check up on already Life Bonded couples while adding information to my growing collection of notes and observations.
It was really miraculous what the Life Bond could do, and I was discovering more each day.
Ben and Asha were still my primary subjects, and I trusted the results from their Bond the most because their Life Bond was administered when Ben was sick.
There was no ulterior motive in their Bonding—Asha, while coerced to Bond, did so freely and without any personal vain motivations.
She saw Ben dying and wanted to help, a completely altruistic action, and their Bond flourished because of it.
Not only did they share a life source and could heal each other when sick or injured, but Asha acted as Ben’s Vessel.
While that was her designation originally, I had a niggling sensation that it might not matter for a Life Bond if the Vessel was born a Vessel or a Mage.
It was a theory I wanted to test out, but didn’t want to alert Lord d’Refan to my musings.
So I started a journal with all of my deepest thoughts and kept it on my person at all times, fearing the information falling into the wrong hands, especially with the new, unpredicted side effects.
Recently, they were able to feel each other’s emotions and hear each other’s thoughts. They couldn’t communicate through their Bond—yet—but I had a feeling it was only a matter of time.
The other Life Bonded pairs, however, were not experiencing the same effects.
Yes, they shared a life source, but it was in constant flux—one side of the Bond was always unfairly pulling rather than sharing equally.
The Vessels also reported that it was painful when a Mage drew from them, like the magic was being ripped from their soul unwillingly.
It left them feeling exhausted with faint external bruising, especially if a Mage drew a lot of power or drew too quickly.
The Mages also reported, albeit begrudgingly, that pulling from their Life Bonded Vessel took a concentrated effort. Like the magic was constantly evading their reach, and it took a heavy amount of willpower to forcibly pull magic from their Vessel.
The thought obviously concerned me, but I had yet to tell Lord d’Refan. The longer I stayed in his presence, the more it became obvious that he didn’t necessarily care about the aftereffects of Bonding. He was creating an army of Life Bonds—for what, I still hadn’t discerned.
That, more than anything, alarmed me.
I’d pulled Ben and Asha into my room shortly after they Bonded under the guise of a private lunch to impress upon them the importance of keeping the effects of their Bond a secret from the other Mages and Vessels, but from Lord d’Refan especially.
They had to pretend that they encountered the same problems as everyone else because I feared what would happen if he discovered that the Forced Life Bonds weren’t behaving the same way as Ben and Asha’s.
After my time with the Bonded, I was generally called away to do some sort of translation—usually an annal or extremely old tome—before I was whisked away again to translate children’s books or random research notes.
Sometimes Lord d’Refan insisted I teach the acolytes more complex runes and Bonds, which was a futile effort.
Blood Magic was not something that could just be taught to anyone. I’d tried back in Isrun before I left. Some grasped it better than others, but replicating the more complex runes was simply lost on most people.
By the time I was finished with my translations and teaching, I was exhausted and frustrated—too worn out and my mind too muddled to even attempt my own research. So I often found myself leaving the manor and walking, barefoot, to the administration building.
While my contract with the General had technically ended when he stayed in Hestin, I still tried to keep his missives as organized as possible. It was a relatively mindless task that allowed my body to operate on memory while I puzzled out my own research.
By the time I left the administration building each night, the sky was pitch-black, the streets completely empty.
I’d return to my room, jump over piles of books and notes, before collapsing, often still clothed, on my enormous bed in the other room. I’d wake a few hours later and repeat the whole process.
I was tired and completely uninspired.
More than once, I felt the compulsion to leave Vespera and return to Isrun, where my life was simpler and distinctly my own.
But every time I felt the urge to leave, something pulled me back.
Sometimes I could identify the pull—the need to discover Lord d’Refan’s motives and plans, my concern for Ellowyn, the strangeness of the Life Bonds.
Other times, it was an indescribable feeling.
A whisper in the back of my mind that told me I needed to stay.
I’d never ignored my instincts before and I wasn’t going to start now, even if the drive to flee was high.
My hand stroking Cotton’s fur grew heavy and stilled as sleep finally rose to claim me, but I was jolted from my much-needed nap by a loud rap on my door.
“Rune Master.” The strong, authoritative voice of one of the Mages on guard in this wing of the house carried through my door.
I sighed loudly.
Maybe if I just ignore him, he’ll go away.
“Rune Master!” Another aggressive rap on my door and a barked order had Cotton hissing as he jumped from my lap and scurried into the bedroom, undoubtedly going to continue his nap on one of the many pillows that adorned the bed.
Lucky bastard.
I stretched my arms above my head, relishing in the squeeze of my shoulders and pops in my back before pushing myself out of the armchair.
“Rune Master! If you don’t open the door this instant, I will open it myself!” the Mage barked, and I grumbled as I picked my way across the floor.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.”
I unlocked the door before cracking it open and slipping into the hallway. I never let anyone else see what was inside my room. Not only was it my private space, but I really didn’t want them to see the catastrophic mess. Or find something lying in the open to report back to Lord d’Refan.
“Can I help you?” I asked, my voice raspy with sleep as I shut the door behind me.
The Mage—a burly older man with a large beard and deep-brown hair—shot me a look of disdain with his beady brown eyes before backing up a step.
He towered over me—even though I was not a short person—and it was easy to tell that he used his size to intimidate.
I crossed my arms and raised my chin, steeling myself and refusing to let him bully me.
Arrogant.
“Lord d’Refan is requesting your presence in his study immediately,” he growled, and my shoulders sagged slightly.
“Please inform him that I will be down shortly. I have things I have to do first,” I said with as much confidence as I could muster.
Things like napping. And maybe cracking open that journal from the Librarian again . . .
The bear in front of me curled his lip in a very unattractive way. I could see his yellowed teeth and barely suppressed a shudder.
“Lord d’Refan,” he reiterated with a sneer, “demands your presence. It wasn’t a request, Rune Master,” he spat with unconfined vitriol.
How many times have I told them not to call me that? Though judging by his tone, this one definitely meant it as a slight.
I sighed, my shoulders slumping, before I turned and locked my door, completely aware that I was not getting out of this meeting.
“Fine. Lead the way,” I said tiredly, the headache from this morning pounding in earnest behind my eyes.