Page 124 of The Holy Academy of Witches

“Well…” I said, awkwardly ignoring Theo’s existence.

“Thanks again.” Sage mumbled. Cillian walked purposefully towards her, his hand brushing back a stray curl and tucking it behind her ear. His hand lingering on the side of her cheek. Though I knew this was supposedly for Theo’s benefit I couldn’t help but think it was so much more.

We parted ways and ventured back to our respective dorms. As we walked back the sun began to breach the horizon, bleeding through the clouds and throwing a pink glow over our campus. We didn’t speak the entire way back, our thoughts no doubt still in the atrium, with the two men we left behind.

Sixty-Five

Sage

Weeks had passed and my weekends were fast becoming consumed by Cillian’s desire to sell our fake-dating performance. First it was because a rare record had become available outside our radius, next there was a special replacement part for his 200 year old Cello (also outside the radius), then a tattoo appointment that he’d had scheduled forever. That had been a nightmare, trying to balance the right amount of interest in the bare expanse of toned muscle without forgetting who he was. Each time taking a little longer, with an assortment of errands he’d forgotten; grabbing food because he was starving, or to pop by to see this person or another that were, of course, dying to meet his “girlfriend.”

It wasn’t lost on me that ever since he put on his little show for Theo the demands for my time increased. As if he got a taste for the game, and like everything else he did, he had gone all in. At first I feigned disinterest, but with each new hidden treasure I found it difficult to hide my growing delight. His facade of effortless wandering was all too enjoyable. Soon people came to anticipate the scene of Cillian and I together in one of the nearby towns, and if I was honest, so did I.

“How do you seem to know everyone?” I demanded, kneeling to smell yet another patch of flowers. This town was overrun with them, the riotous colours bursting from boxes, hanging planters, and any previously bare patch of earth.

“Sage, hyperbole is best used rarely, to preserve its effect. I hardly know everyone. That would be impossible.” He said with a chuckle, leaning against the wrought iron street lamp this particular flower bed surrounded.

His words were of course punctuated by him waving at a young family across the street.

“Okay, what’s their story then? They own a music store you haven’t shown me yet? Or maybe they make kebabs that are to die for?”

“Wrong and wrong. Although I could really go for a kebab now…” He looked at his overpriced watch with a frown. “Only… the best one is an hour away and about to close, so thanks for that.” He looked pointedly at me like I’d planned the inconvenience, a playful grin still firmly in place.

I narrowed my eyes at him, not about to let the subject drop. “All we’ve done the past month is ask questions for our cover stories. You know literally all my favourite things, you’ve made me memorise yours, we’ve swapped stories, told awful jokes, but this? This you refuse to say. Why?”

His joking annoyance vanished, “If you hadn’t wanted me to keep our situation from your brother, how long would you have waited to tell meyoursecret?” He asked quietly, suddenly serious.

“I - I don’t know, I mean I don’t know if we’d even be friends.” I hedged nervously, tracing the veins on a leaf that was suddenly very interesting. It wasn’t that I was scared of him, only that I was scared of the intensity of his gaze, and the way my body reacted beneath it.

He continued, his insistence turned somewhat contemplative “If we were? Say we met through Adeline, connected over something normal like music or boots, or just… whatever. We hung out naturally, not for a cover or pretend, just because we enjoyed each other’s company… how long would you have waited?”

I avoided looking at his face before responding, “I don’t know. I never really thought about it.” The last bit came out as more of a mumble as I descended into the picture he had painted. Something about it had emotions tumbling through me too fast to name. I finally looked up into his eyes and saw something of sadness. Was it something I said? And why did it hurt me to feel responsible for it?

He looked away first this time, pulling out his phone before saying, “Let’s head back, I just remembered I have an assignment due that I need to work on.” He sent a message off before holding his hand out to me, his gaze still averted. I took it and stood, but rather than placing my hand in the nook of his arm, he let my hand drop once I was steady. We walked back to the bike in a sombre sort of silence. If I knew what I had said that had upset him, I’d take it back. I wanted to take it back, to see that stupid smug grin again. But instead I got the distance I thought I wanted. Left stewing that the reason these people knew him was a secret on par with my visions. But what could that be?

Rather than take us back to the cabin he drove me to the entrance of the school. With the illusion of the church towering over me I dismounted and made my way to the hidden iron gates. It wasn’t until I felt the midst of the illusion breaking that I heard the familiar roar of his engine fade away.

As I took in the bustling campus, I made the executive decision that I did not want to spend any more time with people, especially if it meant dodging more traps targeting my spot in The Run. No, I’d wasted enough preparation time going out. I needed to prioritise my training. I clung to that thought while I tried coming to grips that this might have been our last outing weekend, now that I’d upset him.

Making my way down the silver path I enjoyed the perfectly manicured flower beds that heralded spring. Thankfully the dorm was empty so I could quickly swap my nice outfit for training gear and grab a batch of ingredients that could use charging. Turning off my tumultuous thoughts I began running to the edge of the forest. I’d be claiming first prize, or at least helping Adeline or Theo take it from Cillian. It’s what I’d always wanted, wasn’t it?

I sent out a text to Theo before my reception became spotty, tempting him with the possibility of torturing me, for the good of The Run.

He responded quickly this time, and I felt my breathing deepen in relief. He hadn’t told me he’d forgiven my secret keeping in so many words, and our only real communication since the atrium had been an impersonal back and forth of video links and memes we enjoyed. But replying to my messages was a good sign. So long as he didn’t find out about the life bond before it was broken we’d be fine. Right?

Theo: Have you started combining magics in class yet?

Sage: Only a few lectures, but not practical applications yet. Why?

Theo: I’ll send you some of my notes, but there are rumours you’ll need portable force fields for some of the rituals.

Sage: Why?

Theo: They’re somehow creating intelligent enemies as well as biomes for The Run.

Sage: And you found this out how?

Theo: Boredom is the mother of invention.

---