9. Raia
RAIA
“Stop rushing.” My teeth grind at the command as Thessaly hovers over my shoulder.
“I’m trying.” I can practically feel him rolling his eyes before turning away in resignation, and I exhale a sigh of relief.
“If you are not willing to show some restraint and patience, you’re going to fuck up the elixir again, and you’ll have to start over.
If you don’t do it right, you’ll have to do it twice. ”
The delicate gold conch necklace sitting at the bottom of the small cauldron is the one my father gave me as a child, and I can’t help but feel some modicum of satisfaction as I watch it finally melt.
This particular elixir required a bit of gold.
I was more than happy to sacrifice it, even if only in spite.
Sweat trickles into my left eye, making me squeeze it shut as I continue to pour with one eye open, breathing gently so I don’t risk contaminating or jostling the contents of the precious potion, all whilst I attempt to guide my own magic into it.
It requires hair-splitting precision that makes me want to jump out of my skin—a frequent impulse of mine.
Despite my present ineptitude at flueratheurgy, I fucking love it.
Because when I do actually get something right…
I can create the power of the gods in a bottle.
I can give a fairy the size of my thumb the strength of a hundred orcs.
I can bring someone to the height of enlightenment.
Even imbue someone with the knowledge of all languages, both written and spoken.
I can cure diseases and maladies of all kinds.
Well… maybe not all kinds, but Thessaly certainly can, and one day, I will do the same. Just yesterday, I succeeded in making a potion that cured a male of blindness, and we both wept as he witnessed, for the first time in his entire 128-year life, the world around him.
Flueratheurgists across the realm wish they possessed even a thimble of Thessaly’s capabilities. The fact that I am, indeed, being taught by the best is an honor and gift beyond words.
Although my relationship with Thessaly is at times tumultuous, in these short two years, he’s become my dearest friend.
With razor-sharp precision, the last drop of sap has been poured, the final sacred design has been drawn and disappears beneath the simmering surface of my elixir, and I can steal a full breath.
And wait.
Staring down, hoping, praying, begging for it to have worked.
I sense Thessaly return to my side, staring down with equally bated breath into the petite cauldron before us.
Each eternal second that passes, the tension in my chest winds tighter.
Until finally, the steam turns a deep red, begins to glow and throb with life so powerful that I can feel it pushing against my magic, and the honey-thick elixir gives a final, gaseous, bubbling belch.
Quiet victory rings through me, sharp and overwhelming. Tears of joy burn my eyes as I let myself feel this moment of pride and a sense of soul affirmation.
I can do this.
My gaze finally slides to Thessaly, who isn’t staring at the cauldron, but at me, eyes shining with pride as a subdued smile hints at one corner of his mouth.
“See how brilliant you can be? If only you have patience, darling?”
Setting down the cauldron, I throw my arms around Thessaly and clutch his lithe, delicate form against me. His arms come around my waist, and he returns my embrace, webbed fingers pressing into my back, and each passing moment has my heart filling, spilling over with emotion for him.
Because of him, I have hope and a future—one unlike my mother’s that does not include waiting for a soulbound—or any male—to save me.
When we draw away from one another, Thessaly’s dark eyes are filled with pride. “Shall we celebrate?”
Unease winds in my gut. I am not fond of crowds... or going out in general.
He pets my face. “My darling, you’re much too beautiful to hide away like this in an old dusty laboratory. Don’t you want to make friends with people your own age? Meet a handsome young male? Or female? Or aequilis?”
A person of both sexes.
I frown, even as a tendril of longing winds through me.
“No. I have you.”
Thessaly’s already grabbing his hat and coat. “Of course, you have me, but even I cannot replace the love of a partner.”
Unease escalates into tension. “I don’t want a partner.”
I don’t want anyone. I want to stay where I am safe and where my heart cannot be broken like my mother’s, which is precisely what led to her death. Not that Thessaly knows that.
Slipping on his coat, he turns to face me, frowning. “You say that now... but you just wait until you meet someone who sweeps you off your feet. It’s the most beautiful feeling in the world. It’s not like they have to be your soulbound.”
Thessaly would know. Thanks to my gifts, I can sense soulbonds... When we met, I could detect the tether to his own, anchored to an afterrealm. He confirmed as much when we began to grow close. His soulbound passed away when they were both children.
It hasn’t stopped him one bit from seeking love in the arms of others.
Many, many others.
Just one of the myriad reasons I admire him. I lack all of his charisma and charm; his ability to feel liberated in a crowd, whereas I feel like I’ve just been sealed shut in a coffin.
Thessaly dances over to me with the grace of a gentle wave upon the shore.
My frown darkens into a scowl. “I care nothing for this feet-sweeping nonsense. I want to stand on my own two feet, always.”
He chuckles, booping me on the nose. “Let’s just go have a few drinks then. Let our proverbial hairs down.”
He sways his bony hips side-to-side as if to entice me.
“I’ll dance with you.”
I stare flatly.
Try to.
My lips twitch.
His grin widens.
Thessaly begins to dance around me in a circle.
Finally, heaving a dramatic sigh, I relent. “Fine, but I swear on everything that is sacred, if you leave me alone even once to flirt with another male, I’ll put hirtoro root in your tea the next time you have a date.”
Hirtoro root is what we give patrons suffering from constipation or who are in need of a thorough colon cleanse. In high doses, it is known to cause violent contractions of the large intestines and colon.
Thessaly gasps, his jaw hanging around his laughter. “You wouldn’t dare.”
I arch a brow that says, ‘Try me.’
Thessaly huffs a laugh. “Truly, your cruelty knows no bounds.”