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It was her.
That soul, intertwined with his own in ways he could not yet fathom. Two blue threads. Entwined. In a complex, destructive, yet intense way that had the power to drag this city to its doom.
It was her.
His Arcanum.
His Muse.
His Downfall.
Cricket Sounds
Cricket Sounds
eighteen years ago
Crickets chirped, drowning out the sound of the waterfall in the distance deep within the dense mountain forest, as the woman looked around one last time before – with trembling hands clutching the bundle in her arms – she left the path through the tall grass and climbed the wooden stairs of the log cabin from whose windows warm light streamed into the surrounding forest.
She looked back again, because as always in this town, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
But there was no one there. At least, that’s what she thought.
The Storm Has Nothing to Do With You
Campfire Rhapsody
She opened the wooden door, stepped into the dimly lit room filled with countless hunting trophies, and paused when she spotted the blazing fire in the fireplace, which immediately triggered the black veins on her forearms and neck, as well as her yellow eyes and the sense of awe in her chest, and caused the antlers to cast massive, flickering shadows onto the wooden ceiling.
Something stirred in the bundle in her arms, and she looked down at the little boy, who blinked as he opened his tired little eyes and helplessly stretched out his tiny arms.
Her vision blurred, and she forced herself to look up quickly, glanced around, and spotted the man standing by the window.
He said nothing, simply staring out into the pitch-black night, which seemed darker in this town than nights far away from this island.
“Does anyone know you’re here?” he asked in a hoarse voice.
The woman hesitated.
Not yet.
“No.”
Before he even had a chance to press the issue further, she asked the one question she needed an answer to.
“Will you cast him out if he doesn’t have it?”
The man turned around, and she swallowed hard when she saw his watery eyes.
“You both have it.” His gaze settled on the bundle in her arms. “The likelihood that he doesn’t have it is virtually nonexistent.”
The urge to cling to the little boy grew stronger and stronger. She had to put him down before she could change her mind. But she still didn’t have the answer she needed.
The man’s gaze returned to her, and something familiar settled in his eyes. Something that soothed the heavy feeling in her chest, even though she wanted nothing more than to break down right now.
“You have my word,” the man assured her, because he would never forget the bond the two of them had formed when their family traditions had nearly brought them both to their knees. “He’s safe.”
She hesitated.
