After another few minutes of quiet, Hugh eased back with a sigh. There was a tell-tale glimmer on the edge of his reddish-brown lashes. His gold-flecked brown eyes were rimmed with the barest hint of wet. I didn’t know what to say.
“We’re not alone anymore,” he said finally. His voice was husky with emotion, but there was a tinge of relief there as well. “I am not alone. It sounds odd, I know, but…”
I realized it then—Hugh had felt the same as I had. That sense of loneliness despite being caught up in a crowd. The realization that few people truly understand who you are… although you live in a place most would consider to be your home. That was the way of it in the White Tower with its bells and rote duties and classes and silent, meditative solstice celebrations. I had never known my parents, and the White Tower had been all I knew. It was a sheltered place of knowledge, and it had protected me through years of turmoil, but none of them truly understood the dreams I had harbored. It was an important place and it held equally special memories, but I had always struggled to consider it home.
“No,” I said. “I understand, Hugh. I… I feel the same way as well. I mean, I’ve felt it for quite some time, but I suppose the season has really helped me to, well, uh…”
“Emerge from your hermitage? Blossom?” Hugh asked. I could tell by the sparkle that returned to his eyes that he was teasing me, but there was a softness that took the edge off.
“Yes, I suppose something like that,” I mumbled, feeling rather idiotic now that I’d said it aloud.
Hugh’s hand threaded through my now rather wild hair and brushed against the base of my ears just the way I liked. He smiled at me fondly and chuckled.
“Sometimes it’s hard to admit when you have a good thing,” Hugh noted.
“Especially when you do not wish to lose it,” I added, half to myself.
Hugh nodded in agreement.
“Well,” I said lightly, opening the door to my laboratory. “I’ve got an afternoon of potion stocking. What about you, Hugh?”
“I’ve got a few things as well on my docket, but in a couple of hours, I’ll come round with lunch. How does that sound?”
“Perfect,” I said.
I leaned forward, gave Hugh another quick peck on the lips, and darted into my laboratory. For the first time, I was able to leave a very startled Hugh behind. I felt as though I were on top of the world. Hugh had found happiness. The tinge of darkness that Aileen had mentioned was surely receding. Hugh was truly embracing us as his family… and I was part of it.
For a few seconds, I enjoyed the warmth that lingered at the thought of Hugh seeing me as family—or perhaps even more. Then, I saw the half-empty cauldron of my Potion of Intelligent Analysis Solvent. Hugh was still cursed. If I didn’t break it by the end of the month, someone truly in my family, someone I loved, would be lost to me forever.
All warmth fled me, and I shivered as though a mighty winter wind had just blasted through my room. I stood before the fire deep in thought, struggling to keep calm. This was not a time for tears. This was a time for thought, for planning, for something extreme. Nyria had told me to bide the hour, but the Goddess would have to forgive my impatience and doubt. I needed a backup plan. I needed Deep Magick.
Nyria. Meryn. Solas. Agathar. Lymellan. Korynne. Ziran. These are just a few of the gods and goddesses that the catkin of the Amarran Continent worshiped. Esteria, Sumarene, and our two smaller southern neighbors, Xanthea and Navarros, share similar pantheons. The Goddess of Fertility, the Goddess of Love and the Moon, the God of War and the Sun, the God of the Sea. So on, and so forth. This, all catkin know.
Ancient stories, however, held in high regard by the mystics, the Seers, and the White Tower, tell of the Time Before. The Time Before was a period of primordial energy, swirling about as though the cosmos itself were a cauldron. As the universe wasborn these energies solidified into aspects of our reality—time, life, death, light, dark, shadow. The primordial energies were their own beings at first. They too had names, but now that their essences dissolved, their stories have largely been lost to time. Kronos, Gaia, Mors, Solana, Yami, and Varjo.
They disappeared, but as with all manner of life, nothing is ever truly gone. Not really. The Ancients, as the White Tower preferred to call them, have ever remained deep within our essences, and communion with those forces, while highly dangerous, could move mountains. Literally in some cases. The toll for such communion was high, and many, particularly the Elders at the White Tower, held that such magick was best left untouched. Deep Magick, as the tomes named it, was, for all intents and purposes, taboo… and I was about to break a thousand and one rules to attempt communion with Gaia.
It’s worth it, I told myself when Hugh returned as promised with a platter of cold cuts, freshly baked bread, a pat of butter, and some leafy greens.
The time I set aside for lunch was fleeting. Before I knew it, my cauldrons needed more stirring. Hugh summoned a servant to clear away the food and took up his usual spot to the left of the fireplace, where he could watch in the corner of the laboratory without getting in my way. He gave me a summation of his afternoon, his discussion with the guards, the development of his various investigations, and the new reports he sent to Gareth. Hugh stretched, unfurled his tail, and groaned lazily.
“I feel so tired,” he said.
“You should rest,” I said, beating down the rising alarm that reared its head at his words.
“Oh,” Hugh chuckled and flapped a hand dismissively. “It’s not that, Alan. I just think this place is so warm and cozy, it would put anyone to sleep.”
“Hm.”
I stepped back and returned to the delicate task of bottling my newest batch of Unguent of Glamour and Brightening, a skin salve that eased dry skin. I had other salves, potions, and elixirs warming on the hearth. Perhaps, if I had taught Hugh the basics of handling potions, he might have helped me, but I noticed him dozing off in his armchair. Smiling like an idiot, no doubt, I watched him nod off. Whatever Hugh said, I was concerned about the aura swirling in his body. My mage’s eyes could not help but note the steady drain of his life energies.
As soon as I could, I pulled out the thick woolen blanket I stored beside my laboratory’s cot and draped it snugly about him. Before I could stop myself, my hand rose to gently brush away a stray lock of his gorgeous reddish-brown hair. I loved how bouncy and wavy Hugh’s hair was. It always made me want to run my hands through it. A foolish notion, I knew.
“Jus… a nap…” mumbled Hugh.
“Rest,” I replied soothingly, allowing my magicks to swirl to my hand even as I cupped his warm cheek.
I leaned forward to seal my magical spell of Dreamless Rest with a kiss lightly pressed against the tousled waves of his hair. I remained bent for a moment, wishing I could just curl up with Hugh and press my cheek against his, feel my heart beat in time with his, as though we could share a single breath.
