Page 42 of The Dark Mage
She still couldn’t believe she had another person to share Spyre with.Trusting Fael was a freedom in itself.
Fael kept one hand on the reins, the other on her waist—steady and comforting.The horse rocked, a steady clip-clop toward Delmor, and it was one of those last truly beautiful autumn days with warm air, singing cicadas, and buttery sunshine.
“When did you learn you had magic?”he asked.
“Dark mages are revealed fully on the day they turn ten, though there are signs beforehand.Gray eyes, a dark mage parent, an unsettled feeling as the Void creeps in.At ten, you see your first shades—your guide or guides within theVoid.”
“Who are yours?”
“My brothers and sister who were miscarried.They appear as adults.I’ve only seen the bottom half of their faces and their hands.When I go into the Void, they are always near, though I don’t always seethem.”
Fael continued, but not with a question.
“I was taught to fear dark mages.My teachers told me dark magic corrupts, and dark mages love to murder and maim.When I met you, you were injured and scared, but I felt your magic stir.I knew right then you were a dark mage, and I was afraid—until I watched you with your power.As broken as you were, you radiated strength and light.
“Then as we traveled, it became clear you were not what I was told.You are good—but also damn powerful.When you unleash your magic, your darkness sings.Power that deep and strong israre.”
Ren’wyn wasn’t sure how to respond, so she let his words wash over her in silence.He didn’t critique her—he saw and appreciated her strength.It was so foreign.She settled farther into his lap and relaxed.
“I’m sorry about the last few…” Ren’wyn started, but Fael cut in.
“Don’t apologize,” he growled, his chest rumbling against her back, his long fingers curving at her hip.“You bear so much.You were treated cruelly.Give yourself time and space.”
She relished the security of his body pressed against hers and the potential he saw in her.Somewhere deep down, her small voice sighed with happiness.She was tired, she realized—bone-weary, but no longer hollow.
They crested a hill, and Delmor spread out beforethem.
At the inn, Ren’wyn headed straight to her room and collapsed face-first onto the bed, asleep as soon as she hit the pillow.When she woke two hours later, she turned toward Fael’s side—and found only the wall.His absence left a strange hollow space, like the loss of alimb.
Joining him for supper after bathing and changing, she found him clean, dry, and smiling.She felt good enough to wear her green dress, loving the play of the fabric over herlegs.
“You look a hell of a lot better,” he said, motioning to where he had poured her a glass ofwine.
“If only I could say the same for you,” she parried, drawing a laugh fromhim.
They talked about her hopes for the apothecary during supper.Ren’wyn wanted to repaint the sign out front and add window boxes with herbs.She was excited to make a trip for more winter fern from her favorite section of the forest.Fael listened intently, asking how she would use it.
“For a tea,” she explained.“It’s good for stomach cramps.”
They enjoyed dry red wine, soft cheese, and bread.The main course was a pork stew with autumn squashes.
Both had too much to drink, but they were elated after their day.They decided to wait until tomorrow to resume training—Ren’wyn joked that she might not even make it outside after so muchwine.
As they reached the doors to their rooms, Ren’wyn knew Fael wouldn’t ask to come with her.He would wait for her to invite him.If she did, she knew she’d ask for more than comfort and sleep.The realization shocked her.His gentle kindness, his steady presence as she walked out of her sadness, and the wine, it all had her thinking about him in ways she shouldn’t.
“Ren’wyn?”he prompted.
She couldn’t help but bite her bottom lip, even as she grinned.Was it just her, or was he leaning toward her with those fieryeyes?
“How does it feel?”he asked suddenly, tipping back.“How did it feel today, after the light, when they were settled?”
No one had ever asked her that before.It was such an intimate question—one the Masters at Spyre never discussed, except to say it felt different for everyone.
“Satisfying,” she said, humming contentedly.“Like sleep after hard work, or food after a long night.Like water on a hot day.The Void is satisfied too—it almost feels like I hear it sigh with happiness.”
His eyes lit with wonder.“I saw a bright light after their shared touch.I felt clean.”
“Me too,” she agreed.
