Page 22 of Shadows in Bloom

Each time I thought about the creature my magic had summoned, fear crept along my spine and nestled itself deep inside my bones. I knew I would need to conquer that fear if I were to ever gain control over my magic.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I know I need to do more than just summon this bird over and over. I’m wasting your time.”

Alandris shook his head and motioned for me to take a seat on the log nearby. He plopped down next to me and pulled his pin from his cloak, the Mages Consortium emblem, running his fingers across the metal.

“When I first joined the Mages Consortium, my magic was a raging storm I could hardly control. My teachers told me it would consume me if I failed to steady my mind. They said in order to harness your magic’s full potential, you need to recognize the effect your emotions have on it. Rage and fear produce volatile magic. Sure, it’s strong, but it is also wild and reckless. A quiet mind is most powerful. It controls the magic, tells it how much it can take, tells it how to manifest. Mastering my mind was more difficult than mastering the magic itself.

“I was bitter and lonely when I arrived at Nil’Faerith. The idea of becoming a Mage had fascinated me since I was a child, but that wasn’t the path set for me to follow. I was to live a life of politics, in service of the Elven King Zaelthrian, as my parents did, and their parents before them. Family ties are important in our culture. It takes a lot to rise to such a standing that you are working with royalty. My family naturally assumed I would continue our legacy without much fuss.”

He sighed and continued, “They all but disowned me when I refused and told them my plans to join the Mages Consortium. It took a long time to come to terms with that. I was such a brat my first few years. I’m surprised Lyandril didn’t kick me out of the Consortium.” The corner of his mouth rose into a half smile. “The point is—only once I finally accepted that I was making the right choice for myself, and that it was okay to do so, was I able to control my flames.”

There was a sadness in his eyes, but more than that, there was the burning resolve of someone who knew exactly what they wanted in life. That was the difference between us. Alandris had forged his own path with confidence, and I was still teetering along the edge of the one laid out for me, terrified of stepping into uncharted territory.

“You are brave,” I whispered.

His eyes flicked to mine, and it felt as though they were boring into me, reaching under my skin, into the very core of who I was. “You and I are not so dissimilar.”

I couldn’t bear to hold that gaze, so I looked down at my feet. “Is that why you pity me?”

“I do not pity you.” The reply came more sharply than I expected. “You are powerful, Nairu. You don’t need my pity, and you don’t need me to save you. You only need to recognize it within yourself. That challenge—that I will support you in. Whatever it is you choose to do, whether it is saving your people or training your magic, make sure your choice is for you. No one else.”

It knocked the wind from my lungs. Those words. How badly had I needed to hear them?

“Have you heard back from your mentor?”

“I haven’t, but I do have an idea.” When a mischievous grin appeared on his face, I knew that idea would mean nothing but trouble. “There is an older gentleman who has a personal book collection at his home here in town, actually quite remarkable considering the size of Fernfallow, and if my intel is correct, his collection houses a number of books on rare magical oddities and phenomenon.”

I frowned. “Kallistra would never let me go. And she visits too often during our lessons for us to go during them. If she didn’t find us here, she’d burn this town to the ground looking for me.”

Alandris rubbed his chin. “Could you sneak away at night?”

“Would the owner let us in at night?”

“Leave that to me! I’m very convincing.”

I only had to sneak away from a sleeping Kallistra, the lightest sleeper in the entire realm. If she caught me, she would either kill me with her bare hands or lock me in our room for either the rest of eternity, or until she found a priestess who would come to us. I couldn’t be certain which was a worse fate.

What a horrible, thrilling idea.

I smiled. “Then… yes.”

The frantic pounding of my heart was ringing in my ears so violently I was certain Kallistra would wake up from its noise alone. I kept my gaze focused on her sleeping face, watching her chest slowly rise and fall as I swung my legs over the side of my bed.Thank God we were no longer sharing a bed, since Alandris had paid for a more spacious room.The shift of my weight off the mattress and onto the wooden floorboards caused a creaking noise loud enough that I cringed. The revelry from the bar downstairs was barely enough to cover it. I had to time each step perfectly, coordinating with bursts of shouts or the clink of glasses.

The door was an entirely different battle. I’d gone in and out of it enough to know how the hinges squeaked unless you opened it just right. I stared at Kallistra, checking once, twice, three times, before turning the knob. I had to be quick so as not to let the noise from downstairs breach the doorway. On my final glance at Kallistra, she stirred, turning herself away from me. My heart dropped to my stomach, only settling once she began to lightly snore once more.

I turned the knob. Slowly. The hinges had spared me. I could breathe at last.

I hurried down the stairs, catching the eyes of several of the inn’s patrons as I passed. I looked ridiculous. While Kallistra was in the bath, I’d slipped on my boots and pants with my nightgown over the top, tucking it into the pants, and covering myself with blankets so she wouldn’t see my lower half. I was relying on Alandris to bring me a cloak to hide myself under. I just had to make it outside before I burned up from the embarrassment.

The night-time chill had already begun to seep through the thin fabric of my gown. Between that and the panic-induced cold sweat coating my skin, I was far more exposed than I was comfortable with. Thankfully, Alandris was waiting right behind the inn, as promised, with a fur-lined black cloak held out in front of him. I practically yanked it from his hands, whipping it around my shoulders in an instant and tying it off.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to do this,” I mumbled.

Alandris snickered. “I don’t recall it taking much convincing on my part.”

I didn’t bother to respond. Because he was right.

The house was only a short distance away, and it was one of the larger buildings on the street. I noticed none of the lights were on and wondered just what exactly Alandris had roped me into, but I didn’t question him as he led us around to the back entrance and opened the door. Unlocked. Perhaps he wasn’t damning us to a life in prison, after all.

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