Talen tilts his head. “Is that you asking, or issuing a threat?”
I exhale. “Teach me…please.”
He huffs a quiet laugh. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Don’t get used to it,” I say as I cross the room and drag the other chair out. I shrug off my pack, drop it at my side, then sit—keeping the table firmly between us.
Talen watches me do it, just for a beat, but he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t smirk, doesn’t comment. I guess he’s fine with something staying between us. Maybe he wants the distance just as much as I do.
“I assume you had some basic training to do what you can. Impressive—for an Outerlander.” Talen props one ankle over the opposite knee.
“My mum trained me, but only till I was seven. She was an Innerlander, that's how she knew.”
“Why’d she stop?”
I glance down at the scar on my left hand. “She passed away.”
He pauses, then. “What about your dad?
“Died before I was born, probably for the best, Mum said he was a total prick. An Outerlander who didn’t belong in her world. Guess they were never meant to last, too different” I shrug, “Anyway mum was all I needed, we were... close.” The words catch before I can stop them, throat tightens. “Really close.”
“I’m sorry, I know what it’s like to lose par—”. He exhales, tight and short. “—family.”
Parent? Maybe he meant brother... still, I offer him a small, dry smile. One that saysme toowithout making a thing of it.
His hand twitches, barely noticeable, as if he’s about to reach across the table for mine. But he stops, folding it back into his lap like it never moved, then clears his throat.
“Okay, well… let’s start with what you already know?”
I shift in the chair, pressing my palms flat against my thighs. Keep my eyes locked on my hands, anywhere but his.
“Well, um, we’re all born with Threads, but they stay dormant unless someone teaches you how to listen. Most Outerlanders never get that far.” I risk a glance up. Just to see if he’s even listening, he is, but no smirk, no mask—just quiet focus. I keep going.
“Mum used to say it’s like a violin string, we all have them. The difference is, Innerlanders get the bow.” I shrug slightly. “All Innerlanders have at least one Thread active, learned to hear it, use it. Most Outerlanders though stay dormant. Doesn’t mean we don’t have them, just means we were never given the chance to learn them. Every now and then, someone picks up the basics—some dodgy backroom teaching, if you’re desperate enough to risk it. But it’s rare, and it’s never enough without proper training.”
My jaw tightens before I even realise it. The words shouldn’t hit this hard,never given the chance, but they do. Because it’s true. People like Talen got trained, got access, got power. People like me? We got rules, borders and silence.
I dig my nails into my thighs, steadying the tightness in my chest, because it'shim, the one I kissed, he’s the one who works for the system that kept all of this from us. I should hate him for it.
I do.
Or—no. That’s not the problem.
I hate what he represents. What he stands for. Everything the Innerlands built on the backs of the rest of us.
But him? Do I hate him?
Yeah, I know he saved my life, but that’s easy to explain. He needs me alive for something, whatever game he’s playing, I’m part of it. But running Spice across the border for a sick kid he never met, knowing full well what would happen if he got caught. No glory, no gain... and I haven’t actually seen him Reassign anyone. Is it all just talk?
I look up and, stupidly, my gaze drifts back to his—dark hazel, rimmed in gold, steady on mine. His mouth presses into a line, not tight, not cold. Just… still. Like he’s holding something back.
Remember, who you are, who he is, he’s a Citadel officer.
Part of me wants to shove the chair back and walk out. The other, darker part, just wants to lean in and see what happens if I don’t...
“I like that analogy,” he notes, cutting clean through my thoughts. “So she taught you how to listen to them?”
I blink, the quick rise under my ribs refusing to ease.No—focus.No matter what he is, I’m here to learn how to get control of my magic, not let my emotions run the damn show. I look back down at my hands, take a deep breath and continue.
