Chapter 3

Dear Mother,

I have to admit that I have no idea what is happening recently. I don’t know what insanity is supposed to look like, but I swear that I’m becoming insane. I’ve always heard voices inside my head, but lately, it’s like they are getting louder. Not only that, but I’ve gotten the feeling a few times now that someone can see into my head, like hear my thoughts and see my memories. I’m also seeing things in real life, or at least I think I do… Do I have schizophrenia? I mean, I don’t think I do, but isn’t seeing and hearing things part of that? But everything feels so real, I felt it in my hand! But why would father have a sword in a box he hasn’t opened in almost five years? Why does Father have a sword at all?

I keep finding myself drawn back to that box, but I can’t bring myself to go back. It honestly terrifies me a little. If it has a flying sword in it, I don’t want to know what else is inside. Well, I do, but you know what I mean. I kind of want to forget it happened and just go back to living my life, but I can’t just forget something like that! Seriously, why would anyone have a sword and hide it like that? It’s beautiful, with silver and has crystal wings on the side and… I don’t even know how to describe it correctly. I want to see it again, I really do, but what happened last time was beyond comprehension and I’m pretty sure it would have killed me if I didn’t duck.

Maybe it has to do with this town? Weird things have been happening, not overly strange, but enough to notice, you know. There’s this boy at school that has just thrown off what is supposed to happen in the first few days at a new school. He pops up everywhere at school too, asking me questions and saying things that are just plain peculiar. Don’t misunderstand though, he isn’t exactly creepy, I mean, he stares at me, but that’s the creepiest he’s gotten. But I’ve been… adopted? Into his friend group, sort of. It’s only been a couple days, so I might be wrong, of course. It’s been a while since I’ve had friends so it’s hard for me to tell, but I’m kind of hopeful. Who knows how long we’ll be staying here, but I’m glad that for once it seems like I won’t be alone at least? If I don’t get decapitated by a flying sword too.

We’ll be going to Uncle? Joseph’s for dinner sometime in the next couple days. I’m nervous and looking forward to meeting him. I’ve never had any other family than Father, and this whole thing is exciting and surreal. Write again soon,

Annamarie Rose Olson

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Jacob’s feet rattled down the front staircase of the school, tennis shoes squeaking ever so slightly from the moisture brought inside from the spring rainstorm, the bag that was slung over his shoulder bouncing off his hip with each step. When he came to the last step, he pushed himself off with an extra hop, landing a good couple of feet away from the base, the echo of his feet bouncing off the white-painted brick.

He couldn’t help his good mood, the last week being more eventful- in a good way- than school had been for a few months. Sure, new students were common, but he, himself, had been the last to join his current group, and Anna had joined so quickly and easily.

He could not help but feel some type of draw to her, though he couldn’t identify exactly why. There was just this familiar feeling about her, just something about her itched the edge of his mind, reminding him of someone, though he didn’t know who. She also just had this overwhelming sense of innocence to her, that if one didn’t even know her name, they couldn’t help but protect her. Just like Rachel had done two days prior. He also couldn’t help but want to help her adjust, after all, he had been a new student not too long ago too.

He scanned the hallway junction as he exited the stairwell, checking for her sunshine blonde hair. No sign of her yet. Darn, he couldn’t help the thought as it came to the forefront of his mind even if he tried. He turned into the hallway on his left that ran directly underneath the school’s main entrance. The walls were completely covered by lockers with only three doors on one side, the swarm of students around him sending that slightly claustrophobic feeling that only this hallway accomplished. It was identical to the rest in the building, yet it had the power to make it feel like the lights didn’t shine as brightly, that it was narrower or that the ceiling was somehow lower than it was.

He pushed and dodged through the crowd quickly, a couple of classmates shooting him acknowledgments on the way, the occasional screech of shoe-on-wet-tile stabbing his eardrums as he walked. He hardly spared a glance at those around him as he approached his locker, the familiar buzz rising in his head. He gritted his teeth as he quickly entered his combination, keeping up the appearance of normalcy while his mind wandered.

He pulled his morning notebooks from the small shelf that sat at the top of the locker, the loud crinkling of loose papers he had shoved up there over time sending a small cringe down his spine. He glanced at the small, black watch that circled his left wrist, noting that he had plenty of time before class started. Perfect.

Mr. Wilson had given him an obvious eyebrow raise when he had shown up to class early the day prior, and Jacob hadn’t missed the amused aura of the older man when he had immediately tried to launch into a conversation with his new classmate. He didn’t need to read minds to know what his teacher and classmates were probably thinking, it wasn’t like he was the warmest of souls to everyone after all. Of course, they were wrong. He hardly knew Anna, though he couldn’t help his curiosity. He couldn’t figure her out, and it bothered him to an absurd extent. He needed to know more, and if it meant putting in more effort to be able to talk to her before class began, then so be it.

His thoughts wandered as he slammed the rusty, ugly blue locker door shut, swearing lightly under his breath as the edge just barely caught his finger, leaving a dull sting along the skin. He gripped his notebooks at his side, turning away to make his way to the third floor.

Finding himself crammed into the line of students waiting to be able to climb the stairs, he was once again reminded of the blatant overcrowding of their school. Four stairwells and lines were still able to consistently form on every floor, it was ridiculous. His muscles stiffened as a girl brushed against his side, shooting him a look over her shoulder in an obvious crude insinuation. He felt his lips curl in disgust, golden eyes narrowed, his grip tightening at his side to where the metal spirals holding his notebooks together began to form grooves in his palm.

He watched the flow of students coming down the stairs while he continued to shuffle forward in the line, watching for any familiar face. He tried to convince himself that he wasn’t looking for Anna specifically, but he knew deep down that he was just waiting to see her blonde curls in the crowd. He was disappointed at her absence by the time he had reached the actual steps, climbing up at an agonizingly slow pace. Going to class early gave him time to talk to Anna, but the costs of doing so were debatable in whether it was worth it.

Jacob’s defenses were screaming, the buzz in the back of his mind getting ever more noticeable. There was someone on the step directly above him, and the one directly below him, any stumble or gesture possible of making all of them fall like dominoes. The narrow structure, along with the stairways that were just wide enough to have a student going in each direction messed with his head. The number of people around him was not helping the matter.

If there was anything he hated about public schools, it was the huge amount of people around him. Suffocating, cramped, the smell of hundreds of sweaty teens, the ludicrous attitudes, and behaviors that the hoard of people around him had… He never had even a single moment to himself in a place like this.

His dislike of strangers aside, the positives definitely outweighed the negatives. As strange as some of his classmates would see it, the school had given him freedom. For once in his life, he was able to let go and be a normal kid with normal responsibilities. He didn’t like talking or even thinking about his home at all.

“Hey, Jacob!” The voice startled him from his musings, turning to look at the shorter boy who was approaching from the main floor line. Mousy brown hair cut just long enough to not be called a buzz cut, blue-green eyes still blurry with sleep meeting his gold behind wired glasses. His thin drooping figure and already downturned eyes made the boy look like he was about ready to drop where he stood.

“Asher,” he replied with a slight grin and cast aside his more serious mood. Asher Coleman occasionally sat with him, Rachel, and Ben at lunch, not often enough to be truly part of their group but enough to be friends. “You don’t look like you slept much.” 

He winced, “Yeah, I might have lost track of the time in my game last night.” he leaned in as if to say a secret “I borrowed a game from another friend, but only for a couple days and I wanted to try and get through it.”

Jacob chuckled “And your parents still allow this? I thought they were cracking down on you a couple of days ago.”

Asher grinned, “Sure they did, they said I could only play after I got my homework done. They didn’t necessarily say when or how long that could be though”

Jacob snorted.

Asher’s grin only got wider. “Glad you approve then.” 

“Just get to class before you’re late” Jacob chuckled. 

“Sure, see ya!” Asher took a few steps away before turning back with a curious expression. “I saw a different girl, blond hair, sitting with you guys yesterday. Never seen her before.” 

Jacob nodded, “Her name is Anna, just moved here yesterday, actually.” 

“Cool! Might stop by your table and say hi then if that’s alright?”

“You don’t have to ask you know”

Asher laughed, “Sure I do, maybe not ask you, but Rachel… well…”

Jacob chuckled too “She’s really not that bad. By the way, Anna’s got a bit of an accent, and she’s not too fond of people going nuts over it.” 

“An accent huh? Now I have to meet her at lunch today. But gotta go, see ya later!”

“See you!”

“See ya,” Asher slapped a hand onto his shoulder before peeling off into his class. The warning beep of the school bell rang through the halls, though no one even flinched.

Jacob watched him go before closing his eyes, taking the opportunity to re-center his mind, the buzz slowly backing away to return the true silence he craved. He instinctively weaved to the side to avoid the other students around him, keeping his eyes shut for a few more seconds before reopening them, blinking at the slight sting the light brought. He continued, not missing Mr. Wilson’s look from over his glasses as he, once again, arrived over five minutes early. He just had to hope that she would get there soon, otherwise, he’d look like a fool. Again.

He lowered himself into his seat, eyes darting listlessly around the room. His hand ran habitually through his dark hair, the coarse texture matching the callouses that covered his hands, the deep brown strands still retaining drops of rain. He shuffled his feet subtly under the desktop, his fingers moving to drum on the side of his right thigh, tracing what was no longer there.

The already familiar presence made him lift his head in time to see her walk through the door, a small smile playing on his lips as she brushed past him to reach her seat. As soon as her binder hit the flat surface behind him, he spun to sit sideways in his chair, resting his arms against the backrest and watching her expectantly.

Anna paused for barely a second, her eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly under his attention. “Hello,” she offered him a smile. He couldn’t help but notice that she had pulled her hair back in a loose ponytail, away from her face. He couldn’t deny that she was pretty, so he didn’t try. That was about the only thing he could confirm though, and in the end, mostly unimportant. Except that she looked strangely familiar, like a buried, almost painful memory. 

“Hey,” he watched her as she pulled her color-coded pens from the small bag atop her binder, an idea prickling the edge of his mind as he looked at them. He reached up, grabbing the blue pen from the center of the bunch. She stopped, watching him with a blank expression, though her eyes swam with confusion. He grinned at her, twisting the pen between his fingers easily.

“Can I have my pen back?” She held out her hand lightly, her tone filled with the exasperation and patience he was expecting.

“How are you?” He purposely ignored her request; they had time before class started.

He could sense how much she wanted to roll her eyes, forcing herself to continue looking straight ahead politely. She held her hand out for a few more seconds before lowering it with a soft sigh. “I’m fine, how are you?”

He registered the word choice carefully. No, he didn’t know her that well yet, it had only been a couple of days after all, but no one said that they were fine when they were fine. “I’m good,” he clicked the pen a few times in his hand, tilting his head as a grin spread across his face.

“Good,” she smiled again, more strained this time.

He nodded absently while he lowered his guard just enough, glancing down towards the pen in his hands as he did so, his hair falling in front of his eyes. Immediately, the buzz filled his senses. He shut it down again, blinking his eyes quickly before looking back up at her. “You know the fun thing about these pens?”

“Hmm?” She shifted in her seat, her gaze swooping back to him from where they had wandered to the windows.

He began twisting the shell open, pulling the ink cartridge out along with the tiny spring that rested near the tip. “You can make a tiny cannon,” he grinned with what was probably too much enthusiasm for what had just come out of his mouth, but he kept going anyway. He shoved the spring to the bottom of the stem, placing the cartridge above it before barely latching the top of the pen back on.

Anna stared at him, obviously not impressed by his innovation. She opened her mouth to speak once, twice… “Why?” She finally just asked.

He shrugged, his grin growing unreasonably. “Because.”

A laugh escaped her, it was short and puzzled, but still a laugh.

He angled the pen down towards his own hand, pressing the clicker with enough pressure to dislodge the top. A light sting of pain hit him as the ink cartridge jabbed his palm, leaving a royal blue dot in its wake. “Ow,” he couldn’t help the small exclamation, even if it hardly affected him.

She didn’t hold back the eyeroll this time, her hand brushing over his while she pulled her transformed pen away from him. “You’re so strange,” she snorted. “Why’d you do that?” She began reconstructing her pen. The feeling returned that he had seen that eyeroll before, the familiar movement tugging at his memory painfully, but still annoyingly out of reach. He needed to figure out who this girl was and why she affected him.

“Why not?” He stuffed down the frustration and laughed at his own stupidity, the carefree feeling that he had quickly become addicted to rising in his chest. He was vaguely aware of the music playing over the loudspeakers, warning students that class was about to start.

More students flowed through the door, meanwhile, Anna had turned her attention to opening her notebook. He chuckled under his breath when he noticed that she had moved her pens toward the back of her desk, away from him. Yeah, he knew he was strange, but freedom was just plain fun while it lasted.

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Rachel blinked blankly up at the front of the classroom, her hand propping up her head mashing her loose hair into her cheek, pressing against the bottom corner of her glasses. Her elbow screamed under the weight, pressing heavily into the table. Her body swayed ever so slightly to the beat stuck in her head, her lips loosely forming the lyrics. Underneath the desk, her foot lightly tapped on the white tiled floor to the imaginary rhythm.

She was well aware of the fact that she should be paying attention to what her teacher was talking about, but she had been going on for what felt like hours. Math wasn’t her forte in the first place but going into the ‘factoring’ thing they were supposed to be learning about was just plain confusing. Algebra was annoying, plain, and simple.

She couldn’t help the small smile on her face as her thoughts wandered to when one of her classmates had called math: ‘Mental Abuse Towards Humans’. She pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath in, her brain shaken awake by the actions. Shifting in her seat, she looked uselessly up at the clock on the wall. No matter how many times Ben had tried to teach her to read an analog clock, she couldn’t understand it. Not that the concept was difficult, but her remembering to calculate the minutes was the main challenge.

Glancing around at the other students at her table, she saw the same glazed looks on each of them. A good number of her classmates were looking up at the clock as she had done, one in the back staring intensely as though the time would give him the answers to the universe. The bell had to ring soon, right?

As though she summoned it with her thoughts, the loud beep rang through the school, the classroom becoming a blur of movement as every student shot to their feet. Rachel zipped her fabric binder shut, following the steady flow out the door with her hand wrapped tightly around the handle, the material rough under her fingertips.

She looked around, searching for Ben’s face in the crowd, as his class was only two doors down from her own. He had been her best friend for almost six years now, to everyone’s shock and confusion. Still, she got questions about whether they were siblings or dating or if he was secretly rich. It was ridiculous, not to mention insulting. Like they couldn’t be as good of friends as they were just because he was a boy. Like he didn’t have people already tormenting him for stupid reasons.

She finally spotted him, head down and shoulders pulled in, trying to make his tall frame smaller. She started towards him before her eyes caught sight of a pair of boys, athletes, snickering off to the side. She diverted her path from him, marching straight toward the would-be oppressors. She saw Ben stop when he caught sight of her, his navy eyes burning into her as he realized what she was about to do.

She didn’t hide her anger, she couldn’t if she tried. No, they hadn’t done anything yet per se, but she had seen that look from others just like them enough. She extended her pointer finger at them, their faces freezing at the sight of the enraged girl barreling toward them. She wasn’t exactly tall at five feet, two inches, but she did her best to make up for it. “You touch him,” she growled lowly, her mahogany brown eyes narrowed to slits while her teeth gritted together, almost painfully. “And I guarantee you, I will shove a freshly sharpened pencil up your-”

Gentle hands placed themselves on her shoulders, his touch alone reminding her of the promise he had made her make. No killing people, Ben’s soft voice rang through her memory. I can’t have you going to jail.

The boys’ eyes flicked between her and Ben, only slightly pale now that someone had come to rescue them. “Who knew, the fire-head has a boyfriend,” one of them snickered daringly. “Though I’ve heard that he’s only with her because he’s hiding that he’s gay.”

She shrugged Ben’s hands off, her fists clenching at her sides. “You want to say that again?” She taunted, taking a slow step forward. “Or perhaps you want to meet me in the parki-”

Ben’s hand swiftly locked around her own smaller one, pulling her away and down the hall. His large, long strides meant that he was more or less dragging her behind him. “It’s time for lunch,” he murmured just loud enough for her to hear.

She sighed, forcing her anger down as she tried and failed to match his pace. They raced down the steps after only a few seconds in the stair line, once again, she couldn’t help but be thankful that at least one direction of traffic went at a decent pace. Her thoughts stewed silently on what the boy had said, the idiot. The insinuation that Ben would do a thing as to lie about himself, or the idea that he would ever hide anything from her was enough to infuriate. While Ben didn’t seem to care what other students thought, she couldn’t help but do it herself.

She had sworn to protect him the minute that they had become friends, though she didn’t remember exactly how that had happened. They were polar opposites from the beginning, him being the quiet kid hiding in the corner while she was up chasing other students and singing songs as loud as she could. Though, the longer they were friends, the more they could see their personalities match. Maybe it was more along the lines of them growing together and spending way too much time with each other, but between the two of them, they were more similar than anyone else thought.

The noise of the cafeteria reached her ears as they made the final stretch, turning the corner and jumping in the nearest line to pick up food. Today it was pizza on the menu, though few could say it looked like actual pizza rather than tasteless dough, slimy cheese, and grease. Lots of grease. Over the years, she had seen people drop napkins on their ‘pizza’ to make it more edible, only for the napkin to be completely soaked in seconds. Others just held their slice vertically over an empty compartment of their tray to let the grease drip free. It was gross, but at least it was better than the mystery meat they called turkey on mashed potatoes, doused in thick, bland gravy.

There truly were worse things.

She glanced at the tall, floor-to-ceiling windows on the other side of the room. Wet from the rain, they were misty and mirror-like, the small blacktop and field beyond morphed by the flowing water. Looking out, it was as though there was a pale blue filter over everything, the vivid green of the grass and far trees’ leaf buds leaping out at her.

When they reached their table, she noticed that the girl, Anna, was there once again. Of course, Rachel didn’t mind another friend, but she found it a little strange that she would want to sit with them again. She didn’t seem like the type to enjoy company like theirs. Then again, neither did Ben.

The blond girl was being questioned by none other than Asher Coleman, who sat across the table, the boy’s eyes alight with interest despite obviously being exhausted. “Ash,” she greeted, placing her tray directly beside Anna’s this time, while Ben took his normal place at the very end of the table.

“If you had any superpower, what would it be?” Asher fired off with a glint in his eye.

“Teleportation,” Rachel blurted out louder than she probably needed to, making the boy jump in his seat. She grinned, continuing at a normal volume. “Then I wouldn’t be late or need to run anywhere anymore.”

Jacob snorted from where he was approaching from behind Anna, the poor girl twisting to look up at him. “As if that would make a difference.”

Rachel glared at him as he sat across from her in his usual placement. “And you’re Mister Always-on-time-and-in-the-right-place- oh wait…” She shot him a look.

“And you sabotage your locker every single day with your books falling on your head when it opens,” Jacob shot back. “What does that say about your organizational skills.”

“It’s to stop thieves like you from taking things,” she leaned forward, narrowing her eyes playfully. “The fact that you know that tells me everything I need to know.”

“You forget to give back one pencil and you sign a life sentence,” he shook his head in false shame. “Maybe I should find new friends since you so obviously have an issue with my personality.”

“No, you just lost your sanity somewhere down the line.” She tilted her head with a small glimpse of a smile. “If only we knew where it went.”

“Did he ever actually have any sanity?” Asher chimed in.

“Good point,” Rachel nodded. “We could only hope for his sake that someone stole it, or maybe he stole someone else’s, and it wasn’t as great as he thought.”

“It’s possible,” Jacob shrugged. “If you think about it, I could have traded brains with someone! I could be an alien! Hello there, I’m here on a secret mission to kidnap all of you for some reason I really shouldn’t tell you because I’m not human, but I just spilled the beans on everything! What am I going to do?” He drooped, placing the back of his hand across his forehead with an exaggerated frown.

Rachel rolled her eyes at his dramatics, noting that he had to bring up an alien joke once again. He must have been infatuated with extraterrestrial tales and UFOs or something.

“Oh well,” Jacob mimicked a puppet on strings as he sat back up, his face lightened. “One can’t cry over spilled milk,” he shrugged and took a giant swig of the milk carton from his tray, unable to hide his grimace as he slammed the cardboard back down onto his plastic tray.

Rachel glanced over to the blonde beside her, Anna’s face a clear display of both confusion and amusement simultaneously.

“So, Anna,” Asher stabbed another carrot. “What’s your next class?”

“Phy-Ed,” her face twisted ever so slightly at the mention of it.

“Right after lunch?” Jacob sat up. “Who would do such a thing?”

Anna shrugged lightly, brushing her hypothetical loose hair away from her face, despite it already being tied back.

“That’s cruel,” Ben pitched in, causing the blonde to blink in surprise at the boy. A small smile appeared on his lips, the glance towards Rachel a signal that always warmed her heart. I’m trying.

“What are you liking here so far?” Rachel pitched the question to the girl, she couldn’t help but feel guilty, that out of them all, she had been the least welcoming to her after her first day.

“I…” Anna paused, her strange multi-colored eyes deep with thought. “I guess, it’s that you’ve all been so welcoming. I’m not really used to it; so, thank you.”

Rachel’s guilt melted away to reveal a sort of affection for this girl and the sadness she saw behind her eyes. At that moment, she had decided that she was going to try and be Anna’s friend, just as she had done with Ben many years before.

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Jol’s blood-red eyes opened to the darkened stone room he had been assigned, the hazy glow of the reddened atmosphere painting a picture in the beautifully carved windows. He sat up from his resting table, the firm surface under him steady against his smoky, rough, rocky skin. He stretched his muscles, feeling his spiny, curved wings stretch out behind him.

Looking around the room, he took in his surroundings once again, the amazement of being in this place once again crossed his mind. It seemed like only a short time before; he was alone, wandering in the perilous wilderness of his home. His heart boiled up in fury at that thought, the memories of smashing swords and powers his people had nothing to defend against.

Hecathians.

They were why he was here. They had come, calling them daemons, and slaughtering every one of them they came across. They called it war, like war meant destroying their lands and the souls of their already fragile people. So when she had addressed the when a Hecathian had turned on her own and welcomed them and others, the race of murderers had destroyed, they, in turn, had destroyed their homes and souls. It had only been fair.

He had been unbelievably disappointed when word had come that several groups had managed to survive.

When he had been given the chance to join her mission, to finish what they had started, he jumped at it. He was especially aware of his privilege in working so closely with her majesty, one of only one hundred to be able to meet her face to face; or rather face to darkness, as the queen hardly bothered to show her face to anyone. Even if she had never actually spoken to him, instead being a higher commander or an advisor of hers, it was an honor to be occasionally allowed into her chambers.

He pushed himself up, his clawed feet finding comfort in the textured grit that ran between the slabs of smoother stone, their brown tone faded to black by the permanent haze of smoke. He made his way to the door, taking one last glance around the room, a habit he knew very well. Venturing into the hallway, he passed a couple of Vorakur, their spiny hairs rising sporadically across their veiny, patchy skin. Huge teeth were permanently visible, their jaws pulled back to leave room for the huge canines. Just looking at their hands made him uneasy, claws the same size as fingers with the ability to slice through almost anything expanding out from each paw-like structure.

He rippled his wings unnecessarily to enlarge his presence in difference to theirs, though it didn’t fully change anything. His golem-like appearance was enough for most to fear him, his species was known for camouflage and ambush rather than brute force like the Vorakur. Truly, their ugly and terrifying image made up for their lack of mental ability. He would wonder how any of them lived through their stupidity, if not for the fact that they had a habit of eating just about anything.

Jol navigated the winding halls he had grown used to seeing, making his way to her chambers carefully. He nodded to a fellow Gisrulat, bowing his wings in greeting. He stopped short when he reached her chambers, recognizing the voice of one of her advisors already inside.

“-seem to forget so often...” The voice that had always chilled him to the bone despite the hot nature of his home world. “He is an actual threat to us.”

“No,” the queen’s exasperated voice rang out clearly. “I know that.” He paused. He had only heard the queen’s voice on rare occasions, always in a commanding, superior tone. This time she sounded … normal.

“Finally,” the woman’s tone didn’t falter as she continued. “Last time was bad enough, too many mistakes happened that day.” There was almost a sneer in the way she said the words, but the tone was restrained in the presence of the queen.

Jol stood frozen, keeping as still as possible to not disrupt the conversation.

“Now tell me, Nedira,” her advisor sighed, the casual usage of her majesty’s name sending a shock through him as he continued to listen. “Has this imposter attempted to reach out to you?”

Imposter? Jol took in the information, eager to hear the answer. He knew he shouldn’t be listening; he had no right to hear the personal conversations of her majesty, especially with an advisor, one that she kept close for when she needed such conversations. He was enthralled with it, thrill rising his intrigue of hearing his leader be so vulnerable.

“He has not,” her voice came with more strength this time. “And if he does, you know I will put a bullet between his eyes.”

“Do I? You failed last time.”

Jol’s mouth gaped at the audacity of the advisor, fully expecting the queen to execute her.

“I was weak; we both know that I would rather see him dead on the ground!” The queen’s rebuke lashed in a snap. “And I am not as weak as her. Mi layarkan faisk rid hain ure.” Her voice lowered to a growl as she switched to the language that he had learned to hate, her native language. He could only imagine what she had said, none of which could ever be considered flattering.

The advisor hummed, a brief silence filling the space. Jol felt a prickling feeling run down his spine like someone was watching him, though no one else was there when he looked.

“We must be aware of his presence,” the woman continued. “We cannot be sure of what he wants after these years. And if he walks free again…” The statement was left unfinished, and he didn’t think he wanted to know what that meant. What had happened last time? “Now, I believe we have a briefing to give.”

“Yes,” the queen’s voice abruptly regained some of its regular authority, strengthened by its prior absence. “Let him in.”

Jol held himself steady as the door was pulled open, revealing the woman he regularly attempted to avoid. Her long black hair was pulled half back, held by a blackened gold circlet that wrapped her head, a faded green gemstone centered above her sharp eyebrows. Her angled eyes, a dark blend of darkened green, gold, silver, and a haunting black, surveyed him. Her dark olive skin contrasted by the dark blue of her attire, a black arm cuff with a matching gemstone, something he had never seen her without.

“Jol,” her piercing gaze made him uneasy; it was like she could see straight through him. He had heard that Hecathians with gold in their eyes held dangerous powers, some having the ability to look into one’s past. “How nice of you to join us.” Her impassive expression made him wonder if she knew he had been listening.

He swallowed, looking past her into the darkened room. He could just make out where the pale face of the queen was, too hidden in shadows to read. “Your majesty,” he addressed her, bowing his wings to lay on the floor as he lowered his face in respect.

“As you heard,” the advisor’s voice rang out icily. He hid a wince as she continued, keeping his submissive posture for good measure. “We have an imposter roaming these parts, as of yet, he has not reached our walls. Make sure to keep it that way.”

He raised his head, but not his wings. “I will do my best,” he promised. “I’ll double the guard patrols.”

“Make sure you do,” the woman narrowed her eyes, the colors sparking to life for just a moment before returning to their former state.

He bowed his head once again. “Is there anything more you wish of me, your majesty?”

The adviser turned back to the queen, whom he could see shook her head in answer. “No,” the woman’s tone was smoother this time, uneasiness crawling up his spine. “You may leave.”

He bowed his head lower for a split second before turning on his heel, aware of the advisor’s eyes remaining on him as he moved down the hall.