Chapter 23 #2
Pausing my read, I pondered about the vague paragraph.
The author didn’t know many facts about Amplifier, and disappointment coiled in my belly.
Of course, it was just my luck that I didn’t find any useful and unbiased information.
I flipped the page again so I could have a glance at the last few entries since I'd already read this far.
It was the addendum that caused me to pale.
“Addendum: A brave spy was able to witness the beginning of some kind of ritual between a Wielder and their support. Unfortunately, the spy was caught and heavily wounded in his desperate retreat. Before succumbing to his wounds, he relayed what he’d witnessed.
He reported that the Wielder called the ritual an unbreakable binding. Further, my spy described that the two participants had been speaking vows. However, he was not fully coherent anymore when he reported blood, a dagger, and a ceremonial plate, so the information couldn’t be verified anymore.
I spent many winters trying to find out more about this fascinating topic, but to my disappointment, I couldn’t unearth more about the ritual or the unbreakable binding itself.”
The book ended, but I had read enough. I returned it to the shelf with trembling hands, my thoughts spiraling.
And spiraling. Then spiraling some more.
Never had anyone mentioned something about a ritual or bindings and vows.
A disturbing idea ingrained itself into my thoughts, and soon enough, I was convinced that the people I’d relied on the most to help me achieve independence had hidden agendas against me.
I forced myself to take a deep breath, then another.
By concentrating on my breathing, on the ground I felt under my feet, and the smell of paper in the air, I was finally able to calm down and dissect the whole problem from a rational standpoint.
First, the entire book contained little in-depth information, and maybe nothing about this ritual was even true.
I needed to ask someone, but whom? Who would be the least likely to lie to me?
This approach convinced me instantly, so I didn’t even bother with a second point, which I couldn’t come up with anyway.
My first thought was to ask Dion. He was my friend, and he’d always been open with me about his magic.
Or hadn’t he? Maybe he’d lied, and I’d never know.
Should I talk to him? Instead of continuing my search for clues as I was supposed to, I completely abandoned my original task, plus I dismissed Dion as a possible source of answers.
Although he had made progress in controlling his temper, he still had intense reactions whenever he was reminded of my role as Thain’s Amplifier.
And asking Dion about what I’d read definitely would remind him, regardless of whether this ritual was real or not.
I’d better not risk another outburst from the moody bastard.
Could I maybe ask Thain? I massaged my temples as I weighed this option.
If I was honest, despite our mutual training, we had barely spoken, and he was the one I knew the least of among everyone.
From what I gathered and what I’d learned from the one time we’d ridden together, he had a tendency to come across as superficial and owned a rather self-centered personality.
As if I’d summoned him, Thain’s trademark red hair appeared at the end of the corridor and interrupted my train of thought. “Did you find anything, darling? I’ve found so many wonderful books, one had poems that are so dirty that—”
“No, I didn’t find anything about the seer.
But maybe…can I ask you something?” I knew this was probably not the time or the place for a talk like that, and Thain had the attention span of a toddler, but given that we rarely could speak alone—courtesy of Dion’s territorial behavior—I took my chance before I could overthink the matter even more.
My insides convulsed with anxiety, but I attempted to appear calm.
“Sure, anything. Hopefully, it’ll involve just you and me and a lot less clothes.”
I scoffed halfheartedly. At this point, I’d become accustomed to his unabashed flirting and understood it was simply a part of his nature. I didn’t take it seriously, and surely, neither did he.
“I…read about a rite in a book. Something involving the binding of an Amplifier to a Wielder,” I said and kept my voice steady as I searched for Thain’s eyes. “Is that a thing?”
“Oh yes, of course. Didn’t you know? Unbound Amplifier are always at risk because any Wielder with a matching element could use their Potential, and that’s fucking dangerous.
After the Rite of Binding, only the Wielder you chose to bind with can take from you.
And the exclusivity enhances the power even more.
Also, it’s unbreakable and forever. Imagine how much fun we’ll have together for the rest of our lives!
” And just like that, Thain had confirmed my worst suspicions.
“I see.”
“I thought you knew. Dion said he explained everything important. From what I gathered, that’s what he’d told Antas.
We’re still not exactly on speaking terms. Then again, I’m not surprised that he forgot to tell you.
All that brooding must be taking up a lot of his brain capacity.
But yes, darling, the Rite is a big thing, and I hope there will be time for us to look into it soon. Oh, that’s so exciting!”
I fought hard against the dizziness that assailed me. Of course, Thain would want the power without giving a shit about how I felt about the whole thing. If he’d ever tried to know me, he’d be aware of how little the prospect of binding myself to him appealed to me. He only thought of himself.
Thain was still chatting happily about how he was looking forward to ‘sealing the deal’—as he put it—and only left me alone when I reminded him we needed to find clues. I couldn’t be in his—or anyone’s—presence right now.
My mind raced.
Every single thing I’d learned, I hated. I didn’t want to sacrifice the little bit of freedom I’d found, and I didn’t want to bind myself to anyone, no matter the reason. Thain just saw his merit, no matter how much he disguised this Rite as protection.
Another thought reared its ugly head. Dion.
Normally, he’d explode if someone even mentioned Thain or our training.
But I’d never witnessed him raging or ranting about what I’d just found out.
Maybe—maybe it was all only for show, to keep my mind occupied until it was too late.
Until I stumbled into the trap. I was sure Dion had conveniently omitted the existence of such a binding rite, and what other reason could he have but knowing how much I’d hate it?
Oh yes, I was spiraling. After a few minutes, I was certain the men would attempt to force me into such a binding. The one thing I was convinced of was that I wouldn’t allow this to occur. Never. I needed to do something, and I had to act soon.
Suppressing my inner turmoil, I put on a facade of calmness, except for the disappointment of not finding any hints as to the seer’s whereabouts when we met up again at the tunnel exit a few hours later.
Fig declared that we’d continue our search the next day. Since the tunnel’s traps had been rendered harmless for now—and since no guards had been around, as I learned—sneaking back into the library would be easy.
The way back to the inn was short, and when Dion wanted to follow me to our room, I was done pretending. “No.”
His eyebrow rose, and he pushed past me without a care for my objection. Oh, you wait—
“Dion.” I took a page out of his book and growled at him. That should warn him about how pissed off I was.
“If you still think I’m leaving you anywhere unattended, you haven’t paid enough attention.” Dion sounded smug, but an incipient frown told me he sensed that something was wrong.
“I don’t fucking care.” My raised voice—and the unusual cursing without even blushing—was a sure sign that I was losing control. “I demand that you give me some space. I’m going insane, and it’s your fault because you’re smothering me all the godsdamned time.”
A small part of me was filled with regret for yelling at Dion, yet I reminded myself that he’d deliberately chosen not to tell me about the Rite.
Of course, it was immature of me not to simply ask him about what I’d read and discuss it like adults, but I couldn’t do this.
My raw feelings were overwhelming me, and to mention Thain to Dion would be like pouring oil on a fire.
I wasn’t able to deal with that today. I couldn’t deal with Dion. Maybe never again.
“Let’s talk about whatever is bothering you, Naya.
” Dion’s tone was soft, and he stepped closer, reaching out to pull me into a hug, but I shook my head in warning.
A single black tendril froze in midair, hovering in front of me, its tip already slightly curled.
I glared at it even though I knew it wasn’t alive.
“I don’t want to, Dion. Give me some space, for fuck’s sake. And take your magical friends with you!”
All occasions when I’d set my pride aside soared to the surface and entwined with the growing ball of anger that had started to form as soon as I’d read the book.
“Naya. You know I’m here if you need me.”
I made an angry and frustrated sound as Dion touched my shoulder.
The ball of anger burned brighter and brighter the more Dion disrespected my wishes.
“I don’t need you, godsdammit. Can’t you get that through your stubborn head, or is your god-complex preventing you from understanding something so simple?
What I need is some—fucking—time—alone.” Somehow, the situation had morphed into something dangerous.
I wanted to hurt Dion just as much as he’d hurt me.
“And I don’t want your help. You’re not the godssent solution for everything. Most of the time, you’re the fucking problem! Leave me alone!”
Something inside him seemed to snap. Dion’s eyes turned icy, an expression I hadn’t seen on him since the very first days we’d met. He showed me his teeth and then narrowed his eyes. His clenched fists shook at his sides. “As usual, you’re being problematic, Jama.”
Ah, he was back to referring to me by that stupid nickname. “Out. And don’t you dare to come back before tomorrow morning, or you can shove the remnants of our friendship up your ass.”
Dion stared at me with obvious hurt, and suddenly, everything in me begged to apologize, to explain, to make him smile again.
To tell him he was my friend, no matter what.
I’d gone too far, and regret burned like acid in my stomach, but before I could explain, he slipped on his cold mask and stalked for the door.
“Fuck you, Jama. I hope someone will come to claim the bounty. Don’t even think I’ll come to your rescue.
My mistake for thinking that if you ever had some kind of problem with me, you’d at least try to talk to me before—” Dion shook his head and threw me one last poisonous glare.
“Never mind. Fuck you. Get yourself killed for all I care.”
He was gone, and only the loud bang of the door he’d slammed stayed behind.
I did it. I was alone. But I didn’t feel victorious.
The hollow feeling that had started in the library was almost unbearable now.
The way Dion had regarded me with eyes full of hurt nearly proved to be my undoing.
When I realized I had most likely just severed a friendship with the man who’d confessed to me that I was his first—and only—friend, my hands started to tremble, and soon, the rest of my body followed.
What kind of monster was I? Hot tears threatened to break out.
I shook my head a little. I had to harden myself desperately. It was Dion’s own fault for lying to me or for at least omitting the truth. In the end, he’d brought it on himself. I needed to keep my head clear, and if my plan went well, I wouldn’t see any of them again after today anyway.
I shoved the burning agony deep into the recesses of my mind until only a numbness remained. Compartmentalizing at its finest. Standing up straight, I concentrated on my breathing once more and grounded myself. And then I planned my escape.