A Nightingale's Tale

Chapter Sixteen

Lydia sat on her cot and drew runes on paper while she waited anxiously. She had tried to work on spells, but her mind was too preoccupied to do something as complex. Dirt was still under nails from digging Sissy a grave. As she assumed, Simon refused to let Oliver anywhere near Sissy. No one suspected Lydia giving of giving Sissy the elixir that put her to sleep permanently. She had buried her far from the camp in an unmarked grave. When she returned to camp she didn’t bother cleaning herself up in case Killian still wanted to train that evening. They hadn’t spoken the rest of the day after he had found Sissy’s body. Lydia and had worked on Annora most of the day but her mind had been on Killian and the intense situation she had gotten herself into. She felt as if tragedy and drama filled every aspect of her life no matter where or what she was doing. She heard footsteps heading toward her tent.

“Lydia?” his whisper came through the front.

“Yes,” she said. She put her doodle runes in a book and underneath her bed.

He cleared his throat and stuck his head in, “Do you want to…well…I know after today and all, but…”

“It’s fine, really. I need the distraction,” she said as she stood and walked toward the front of her tent. He didn’t move out of her way until she was almost through the door. The night was clam and clear. An owl flew above their heads and crickets sang their night song.

“Killian, I’m sorry about what happened with Larid. I know we haven’t talked about it because of Oliver but…”

“I shouldn’t have blamed that on you. Larid wasn’t...”

“It is my fault, he was just trying to protect you all.”

Killian swallowed heavily and let out a slight cough. He lifted his head toward the night sky.

“Larid, was a great magician. He joined us only a few days after Lyon, Sofia, and I began making our way through the other realm. He saved our asses. We had just crossed the line out of the boundaries of our village and were ambushed. Even with Lyon, we were out-numbered. I don’t know what would have happened to us if Larid hadn’t come along at that moment.”

Lydia felt ill with guilt as he told his story of his brave friend.

“You’ve never been, right?” he asked changing the subject so quickly it took her by surprise.

“To the other realm? No, never. I’ve only heard of it in stories and books.”

“It wasn’t always bad. It was a great place to grow up. I mean at least what I remember of it as a child. We weren’t a part of a coven, obviously, my father didn’t want us to be. We co-mingled with all kinds of species. I had a very cultural upbringing. My father never taught us magic because no one else in the village had magic. He said we didn’t need it, we were no better off with it. I caught my mom doing it sometimes, she taught my Sofia some. Other creatures do have magic, though, it just different. My father didn’t believe that. One hobgoblin, one single hobgoblin, provided vegetables and fruit for everyone in the village. Vincent, was his name. And my father really thought he did that without magic.”

Lydia felt as if he were giving her a gift of a glimpse into a world that no longer existed. It reminded her of Covet.

“He was how I know Lyon. Lyon would get plants and herbs from Vincent. Lyon was a part of a coven, not far from the village, but they were killed in the raids. He was at my village the day it all happened. The wolves showed up and began taking people. Those that resisted were killed. My father went to save our neighbor's daughter and he was captured. My mom ran after him and so was she. I don’t know if they made it. Lyon pulled me and Sofia out of our house and away from the village.

Lydia didn’t know what was worse, knowing that your parents are dead or not knowing and having your mind wander to incomprehensible places about where they could be. For the first time, she took solace in knowing what happened to her mother and father even if they were dead.

They reached the field and began to practice. He was still using the large pipe from the truck as a sword. Lydia liked the practice. They were the only actual moments that Arabella didn’t consume her thoughts. She liked those moments, it caused the pain in her heart to subside briefly. The moon was heavy over-head when they sat on the cool grass to take a break.

“That spell with Oliver, how did you know?” he asked.

“My mom would use a similar tonic when she was in a bad place mentally. She would sleep for days. Once I realized it wasn’t a poison it was pretty obvious.”

“What was she like?” he asked her as he lay on the ground.

“Who?”

“Your mother?”

“My mother?”

“What was she like? Every time you do something like healing, you claim it was because of her.”

She didn’t want to talk about her mother, but she figured she owed him something considering he had told her about his parents.

“It’s odd. I remember her well, or at least the things she taught me, but her personally, I don’t remember as much. I think I lost a lot of those memories because no one spoke of her after. It was like she had never existed.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, and he sat up to look at her. She had her arms wrapped around her legs. She really didn’t like to talk about her.

“It’s weird the way they would talk about her, the people of Covet. They always avoided the topic of her no matter how much I asked. But then rare times people would talk about her it was like she was some myth, like a bad storm from years past. She was always the best alchemist since the day she could practice. I think that’s why she was able to get away with the things she did. She would stay in our small apartment for days. No one would come and bother us, well except Roland. If anyone else had locked themselves away like that, especially a woman, they would be reformed. But not her, I didn’t realize how odd that was until I got older.”

“Why do you think they let her?”

“She created spells and wrote dozens of books. Her spells were used often.”

“She could create spells? I didn’t know anyone could still do that.”

“I never met anyone else who could. I think they were scared of her.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. She was just…different. She didn’t have emotions like normal people. She wasn’t happy or sad, she just was. I knew she loved me she just didn't show it. When she died people almost seemed relieved. But, no matter what, she’s still my mother.”

“How did she die?”

“She killed herself.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I honestly don’t remember a lot from that long ago. I never knew just how unhappy she was. I guess your mind plays tricks and only focuses on the good memories. The things I remember most vividly are of her teaching me spells and reading me stories.”

“What kind of stories?”

“Books she had snuck in from the other realm, mainly children’s books. She would read to me at night and when we ran out she would make up stories. I think that was the main reason I wasn’t afraid to leave Covet, I had been leaving for years through the stories she told me.”

“Where would you go?”

“Everywhere, nowhere. My favorite stories were the ones of big cities filled with thousands of people hurrying around the streets. I loved thinking about all the different lives they were living and all the stories they had to tell.”

She stopped when her mind automatically went to Onyx. She suddenly felt very exposed. Killian’s leg was leaned into hers. He was back to staring at the stars. She moved her legs closer to her chest.

“I never would have thought you were as good of a fighter as you are the first time I saw you.”

“I’m sure most think that.”

“Round two?” he asked springing to his feet and holding out his hand.

They ended their training with seven rounds and six new bruises. Killian accidentally slammed her into a tree. He had been so apologetic, Lydia felt worse for him. They made their way back to the camp, exhausted. Lydia could barely keep her eyelids open as she searched the ground with her foot to guide her. Killian was pressing on a large cut in his right hand. It was from her praecant because he had tried to catch it.

“I need to clean that,” she said as they got into the flat ground of the camp.

She went into her tent and filled the bowl with water then got a jar out of her bag. He sat on her cot and watched her. She poured some of the grey paste onto a piece of glass. She unwrapped the piece of torn t-shirt from his bloody hand and left it aside. She sat next to him on the cot and held his hand with hers. She cleaned the wound and put the paste on the cut. She wrapped a fresh bandage around his hand.

“That should do it. Keep it clean for a few days.”

“Thank you,” he said. He didn’t get up immediately, “Today has been a long day.”

“Every day feels twice as long as they used too.”

“I know, it’s like it’s not even real.”

He stared at her. His eyes were fixated and speaking to her. She felt herself flush with nervous chills.

“No, it doesn’t,” he said, his face inches from hers. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She exhaled for the first time in nearly a minute. She felt her shoulders relax and she suddenly began to notice the burning in her right hand. He smiled and sat back on the cot. She took off her glove as soon as the front flap closed behind him. Her praecant was a light yellow with streaks of orange like it was on fire from the inside. She had never seen it do that before. She must have been sending an incredible amount of energy into it. She cradled her hand against her chest as she lay down on her cot. She had a few minutes of bliss with nothing but exhaustion to occupy her, that was until he saw Arabella’s face in her mind. It broke through her small damn holding her emotions. She knew she didn’t deserve to feel peace until Arabella felt the same.

The hurry of the morning was lingering near and she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She sat on her cot and picked up the cloth that Killian had wrapped his hand in. It was saturated with blood and tiny red puddles had formed on her dirt floor. As she held it in her hand, blood pooled on top of her crystal. She brought out the book Sofia had given to her from under her cot. She thought she had seen something in it. She turned a few pages and flipped them. Towards the back of the book, she found it. She read through the list of ingredients. Some of the ingredients she had but not all. She still needed a gold plate, the wine fermented for at least 12 months, and one heartstring. She put his blood aside, which she needed, on a piece of torn tarp that was thrown into storage. She would have to begin her search the following day for the other items.

The slightest ringing of a bell, like a bell on an animal, woke her in the morning. She hadn’t realized she had fallen asleep while propped against her cot and reading “Kartikeya.” She was cold and pulled the blanket around her as she shuffled around the tent to prepare herself for the day. She peeked out of her tent to see others beginning their mornings. For once, she had woken at the same time as everyone else. She pulled the sleeves of the white sweater over her hands. It was still early in the harvest season, but she could see faint clouds of her breath against the morning air. She couldn’t imagine she had been asleep for long by the exhaustion she felt.

“Good morning,” Sofia said to her as she sat next to her on the log, “I didn’t expect you to be up so early.”

“Everyone else is.”

“Well yea, but not everyone was as up as late as you.”

Lydia shot her a look.

“Relax, I know. Coffee?”

“What’s coffee?”

“Your new favorite thing,” she said as she handed her mug over to Lydia. The tin cup warmed her hands to an almost uncomfortable degree, but it felt great. An aroma line wafted to her face and warmed her nose and chin. The smell reminded her of the yearly festival for Covet, the anniversary of the day they successfully got to the island. That was the best day of the year, everyone exchanged tokens of their love to friends and family members. She most distinctively remembered the smell of that day. Sweet cookies and candies were made everywhere that day. The sweetness of the coffee brought back the memories of eating so many sweets she couldn’t move. She took a sip and was surprised with a bitter, hard taste but she enjoyed it still.

“It’s great,” she said.

“Just wait until it kicks in,” Sofia said taking a sip as well.

“Ok,” Lydia said not really knowing what she meant, “How’s Oliver?”

“Good, he had a small breakfast already and should still be asleep.”

“Oh, good. The first night is always the scariest.”

“I kept a good eye on him,” Sofia said with a wink.

Lydia leaned back on her heels, worried about how to ask Sofia what she needed, “Can you help me with something?”

“Sure, what?”

She rethought her decision on telling Sofia what she is planning on doing. It was for a good reason, she told herself.

“Have you seen any of these things?” she said and handed her a piece of paper she had written on.

“What’s this for?”

“I would rather not say just yet. I don’t know if it will work.”

Sofia looked skeptical, “I don’t know about these two, but I know Lyon loves wine and keeps plenty in his tent.”

“Save me a plate,” Lydia said as she stood up.

“No way,” Sofia said, “You can’t just go in his tent.”

“Sofia, I need to get this.”

“Tell me what it’s for”

“I can’t.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“That’s not a good question to ask.”

“Lydia,” she said with her arms crossed in front of her. Lydia towered over her and almost laughed at her tiny opponent.

“Fine, but you can’t say a thing because I don’t even know if it will work and I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“It’s for Killian!” she yelled.

“Shhhhh,” she said.

“Ok, ok sorry.”

“I think I can make him his own praecant.”

“What? You can do that?”

“I don’t know but I’m going to try.”

Sofia squealed with excitement, “OK! Let’s go!”

“That was easy.”

“It’s for my brother, of course, I’ll help.”

They went to a dark grey tent toward the back of the camp. It wasn’t far from Lydia’s and it dwarfed hers in comparison. Lyon’s tent had to be the largest aside from the library and the medical. His tent was filled with books, maps, cloth, potion bottles, scarves, blankets, and jewelry. His bed was two cots pushed together with pillows and blankets piled on top. There were three tables, two small and one large. The large one had everything needed for a proper alchemy laboratory. Flasks, vials, a mortar, a spirit-lamp, an alembic, crucibles, and many other tools she recognized but couldn’t think of the proper name. She hadn’t seen a set so complete since her mothers were destroyed.

“Wow,” Lydia said, “This is incredible. Do you know how much easier it’s going to be to fix up those potions now?”

“We can’t take his things. He’ll know.”

“Why does that matter? We could get everyone on their feet sooner.”

“We just can’t. We need to get that wine and get out before someone sees us.”

“You’ll steal wine from him but not equipment we need to help people?”

“Trust me, he has a lot of wine. I don’t think he’ll notice. He gets very upset when anyone other than him comes in here. He says there are a lot of dangerous things in here.”

“Fine. I can’t wait to formally meet him,” Lydia said eyeing all of his tools. If she had to come back and take the things she needed to help people she would. It’s not as if she was staying long enough for it to matter if he was mad at her. Lydia hit a stack of books with her arm and they scattered across the floor.

“Be careful!” Sofia yelled as they both scurried to pick the books up. A picture fell out of one of the books and Sofia sat back as she looked at it.

“What is it?” Lydia asked.

“I don’t know,” Sofia said showing the photograph to Lydia.

A dark skin, dark-haired woman posed for her portrait in the photograph. Light reflected on her high cheekbones giving her a youthful glow.

“She’s pretty,” Lydia said.

Sofia didn’t say anything just she looked at the photograph with sorrow. Lydia realized, quickly, this was not something Sofia had wanted to find among Onyx’s things.

“I’m sure if she was someone important to him, he would have mentioned it,” Lydia said trying to relieve Sofia.

“He doesn’t really talk about what he does out there. He goes to Arcaan a lot. It’s really the only place with a market anymore. He spends weeks there sometimes.”

“I’m sure if you two are…”

“He thinks of me like a little sister. An annoying little sister. He would be impressed by you and how much you know. You all will probably get along well.” Sofia said as she put the photo back into the book and placed it on the top of the stack.

“You’ve learned more recently then most do in their whole lives. That’s something to be proud of regardless.”

“It’s behind here,” Sofia said changing the subject and heading behind a tall, wooden cabinet. The cabinet was locked but it had a glass front. Lydia could see books and scrolls and vials. She pulled on the small brass handle. It didn’t budge. She tried to see through the opaque glass but couldn’t make out actual words on the books. She moved behind it, on the other side of the cabinet was a wine-rack which was completely full. There were also crates overflowing with bottles scattered all over the floor. There were at least fifty wine bottles behind the cabinet. All of the bottles were old. Some had dates on them.

“This is nearly thirty years old,” she said holding a green bottle with no label just a date.

“Is that what you need?”

“Yea, I’m sure this will work fine.”

“Ok great, let’s go.”

Lydia wanted to admire the lovely, old bottles.

“Come on!” Sofia yelled.

“All right,” she said and she put back the rest of the bottles.

Lydia stuck the bottle into a potato sack and headed around the cabinet when a glimmer caught her eye. Underneath the cabinet was a shimmer of gold reflected by the sunlight coming through the open flap. Lydia knelt in front of the cabinet and pulled out a gold tray. It held more jewelry. She swept the necklaces, rings, and pins back underneath the cabinet.

“Lydia!”

She was studying the tray to make sure it was gold and not gold plated. From a first impression, it looked real. A book on the bottom shelf of the cabinet caught her eye. It had a lock on it. She managed to read the side “Elwood Flamel.”

“Lydia!” Sofia said pulling on her shoulder, “We have to go now!”

“Ok, I need this also.”

“Whatever, let’s go.”

“I found a gold plate,” Lydia said to Sofia as they quickly headed back to the middle of camp.

“Good. That’s all you need, right?”

It wasn’t all she needed. She still needed a heart sting but she had left that off the list.

“Yea, that’s it.”

She didn’t want to tell Sofia the last thing she needed was only possible to get from someone dead.

“Good, I know he’ll love it. I mean, I know he’s not very good at magic but with your help…”

She didn’t finish her sentence and Lydia knew why. Their time together was short and what Killian needed to learn took years.

Lydia stashed the wine and the plate in her tent before they headed back and finished breakfast. Lydia looked around for Killian but didn’t see him, she tried not to make it obvious. She was more disappointed than she thought she would have been by not seeing him. She took her time eating in case he came around. When she couldn’t stall anymore they headed to the library.

Today she was focusing on the tree woman, Willow while Sofia prepared the medicine for the Ekek, Annora. Lydia peeled off what looked like rotting bark from her arm.

“What happens if one of you dies?” Lydia asked Sofia who was across the room.

“Why? Is something wrong with her?” she said hurrying over.

“No, no just a question.”

“Oh,” she said but still looking at Willow with worry, “We have a cemetery in the woods. There’s a path behind the port-door. Unfortunately, we lost a few before you showed up.”

Lydia kept working on Willow while Sofia sat next to her.

“Lyon, seems like a big help.”

“He’s not that bad, really. He did what he could while he was here.”

Lydia felt guilty about what she said. She knew what Lyon had done for Killian and Sofia.

“He’s not so bad, he’s just different.”

“I know what that’s like.”

“You two would get along really well….I mean not too well but…”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s just…Killian…I mean. I haven’t seen him happy in a while.”

Lydia felt pressure in her cheeks as the blood come to the front. She hid her face from Sofia.

“He needs a distraction. When Lyon’s here, he has something to occupy his mind. But when he isn’t, it’s like all the responsibility gets to him,” Sofia continued.

“He is young.”

“That doesn’t matter. He’s saved and changed lives. Lyon saved us but Killian saved all of them. No matter where we were traveling, if he saw a village or a house, he had to go and check it out to see if anyone was there.”

Suddenly, Willow gasped and they both jumped back from shock.

“Stop, pulling off my skin,” she said with a scratched voice.

“Oh,” Lydia said as she dropped the tweezers to the ground.

Willow opened her eyes and sat forward.

“Slow down, we aren’t sure what’s wrong with you.”

“I was dormant,” she said as she swung her legs over the bed.

“What?”

“Dormant, asleep, hibernating.”

“You…can do that?” Sofia asked.

Willow squinted her eyes in irritation.

“Willow…” Lydia started.

“Actually, my name is Xochiquetzal, but they call me Willow.”

“I can see why,” Lydia said to her.

She looked at Lydia in the same annoying way she had looked at Sofia. She balanced herself on the edge of her bed and made her way to the water bowl. Her long green hair swept the ground. She was elegant in the way that she moved. The plants in the room turned toward her as if she were the early morning sun. She grabbed the bowl and drank the entire thing

“More,” she gasped as water ran from her mouth.

Sofia looked at Lydia and Lydia walked over to her. She filled the bowl and Willow drank the entirety again. She sat the bowl down with an exhausted sigh. She returned to her bed and sat down.

“Zoch…Zochhi….ugh, Willow,” Lydia fumbled, “So, you aren’t sick?”

“No.” She rubbed her arm where Lydia had removed skin.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I can’t speak or move when I’m dormant.”

“That sounds terrifying,” Sofia said.

“It’s quite peaceful when someone isn’t performing surgery on you.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“You said that.”

“Do you mind telling us more information about your dormancy?” Lydia said bringing out a blank book and pencil, “What brought it on? Are you conscious during it?”

Willow looked at her annoyed, “What is this?”

“It’s just for knowledge, future, and present. I can’t find much about your kind in any records or books. It may even help you find your relatives and friends.”

“They're all dead,” she said flatly.

“Who?”

“The Dryad’s,” Willow completed her sentence, “My people.”

“They're all dead?”

“I watched them all die. We were the last of our kind. Similarly, to trees, we burn easily.”

“Oh…” Lydia sat her book down, no longer interested in their history but now concerned for Willow’s well-being.

“Aren’t you going to write down what happened?” She indicated to the book, “If I die, no one else would be able to tell you.”

Lydia picked it back up and turned to the first page. She wrote, “Account of a Dryad:”

“The day it all happened, I wasn’t at the hamlet when they came, the King’s wolves. I was in a fight with my mother and I ran off. We were planning on leaving, and….I didn’t want to so I ran off. If I hadn’t done that we all would have left before they had reached us. I’m the reason they all died. After the m******e, I stayed among the ashes for days until Killian and the rest found me.”

Lydia was frozen with how unfeeling Willow was telling her tragic tale. And then a single deep blue, almost purple, tear ran down her green cheeks. Lydia saw the guilt hidden underneath her shallow eyes. Even filled with guilt and sadness, she was one of the most beautiful creatures Lydia had ever seen.

“What happened to them wasn’t your fault. Your people stood their ground…”

“And they were killed for it. That’s been their reason for near extinction.”

Lydia stopped writing as the realization of what she was saying weighed on her.

“Are you…are you the last Dryad?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never met any others. We were always told we were the last.”

Lydia could have been talking to the very last being of an entire culture. This beautiful tree-like creature could be the very last to ever exist when she dies.

“Willow?” Killian said as he entered the tent, releasing the tension that had arisen.

She stood up instantly, “You’re the one who found me. You saved my life.”

Killian’s faced turned slightly pink. They just stood and looked at each other from across the tent like star-crossed lovers

“You should probably eat something,” Sofia said after a few moments of silence, “You do eat, right?”

“Of course,” she said while never taking her eyes from him.

“Come on. I’ll show you around,” Sofia said and grabbed her by the arm. As the crossed paths with Killian, Willow reached out and held his face with her hand. She smiled wide and walked outside. Killian stared as she walked by.

“You fixed her?” he asked.

“There wasn’t anything wrong. She was asleep or something similar.”

“Oh.”

“Do you know her?”

“No, I’ve never spoken to her before.”

Lydia couldn’t imagine that to be true the way they had looked at each other. She wondered how much information Willow could retain while dormant.

“Well, did you need something?” Lydia asked.

“Yes, well no. I just wanted to ask you to go somewhere with me today.”

“Go somewhere?”

“Yes, away from camp.”

“Where?”

“It’s…a surprise.”

“A surprise?”

“Kind of, not really. It was just something I have to do, and I thought you might want to come.”

“Yea, sure. When?”

“After lunch?”

“Alright.”

“Great. I’ll meet you in your tent.”

“Ok.”

Lydia sat down as soon as he closed the tent door. She thought compulsively about what they could possibly be doing. This may be the best time for her to give him his praecant but she didn’t have much time to make it. She ran out of the tent and crept past the campfire where Sofia and Willow sat eating. Judging by the sun, she maybe had two hours before he would be in her tent.

She darted through the trees as soon as she got out of view of camp. She could only hope she was heading the right way to the cemetery. She was in the spot Sofia described but didn’t see anything right away. She nearly tripped on pile of stones before she realized she was standing on a grave. She dug with her hands, not thinking to grab a tool before she left. She felt the dirt caking beneath her fingernails and the distinct smell of rot began coming through the ground. She scrapped against cloth soon enough and began to pull. When she saw his face, she sat down with disappointment. She began to pile the dirt back onto the petite corpse. He was a goblin and she needed a magician’s heart. Once he was sufficiently buried again, she swept her foot through the brush to find another grave. Again, she dug as sweat and dirt mixed across her forehead. Her second grave robbery was more successful, a girl magician. She was young, a few years younger than Lydia herself. She hadn’t been buried long. Lydia released her praecant but only the very tip and cut into the girl’s chest over her clothes. The body deflated as gas escaped her body. Lydia had her arm over her nose to keep from gagging. Once the ribs were out of the way, it was quick to remove the heart. She sat it on a cloth and opened the heart with her praecant. It let out a smoky fragrance when the praecant touched the muscle. She removed multiple heartstrings, just in case, and put it back into her chest. She did her best to put her body back intact. She whispered a soft, “thank you” and put her back to rest.

She washed her hands of the old blood when she was back in her tent, unseen. She placed all the items needed for the spell on her table and pulled out the book.

“Please work,” she said as she began to work as quickly as possible for the next hour.

A black fog was settled on the floor of the tent when Killian approached it. Killian panicked when he saw the black smoke flowing from beneath the tent. He ran into the tent without a hesitation. Lydia was sitting cross-legged beside her cot. She hadn’t realized how dark the inner of the tent had become and the bright light from the outside startled her. The gold plate was hot in her hands and from it billowed clouds of black fog. Killian watched her in shocked silence.

“I did it!” she said.

“What? What is that?” he said stumbling into a chair. He coughed as the sweet smell of the fog filled his lungs.

“Well, it’s not perfect,” she said standing while still holding the plate with both hands. Killian stared at the black and bubbling mass on the plate.

“It’s yours,” she said with a smile.

“What is it?”

“It’s a praecant.”

“A praecant?”

“I said it wasn’t perfect but…I made you your own.”

“Wait, are you being honest? You made that?”

“Yea. It still needs to be attached to something for you to wear.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes.” She was beginning to lose the feeling of pride the more he questioned it, “I’m not entirely finished.”

The black bubbling mass had taken on more of a solid state and now looked more like a half-melted crystal. She sat the mass down and began cutting it with her own praecant. When it became too small to work with her praecant she sanded the rest. Killian stood behind her and watched her the entire time. It had taken her more three hours to complete the entire thing.

“I can sand it down some more later,” she said.

She held a small ring made entirely of the crystal at him. It was black the top and faded into clear. Killian had never seen anything so well-done so quickly. He took the ring and slid it onto the left-hand middle finger.

“Do you feel anything?” she asked.

“It’s a little snug,” he said.

“No, I mean like inside of you.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Lydia looked disappointed and returned to her book for reference.

“Try imagining a weapon. Any weapon, but that will always be your weapon. Once you become advanced you can change it but that’s not for a long time.”

“Ok.”

They both stared at his hand. Nothing happened.

“Try pushing on it. That’s what I do to trigger it but it’s not necessary but it helps when you’re learning.”

He pushed the ring with the opposing middle finger and again nothing happened. Lydia let out a sigh of disapproval.

“Can you try?” he asked.

“No, it’s made with your blood, only you can operate it,” she said as she was flipping through the book and pages of notes she took while going through the steps.

“I knew I should have had a control group,” she said to herself.

“My blood? How did you get my blood?”

“Oh yea, I took it.”

“You…took my blood?”

“Yea.” She continued reading, “I did that, and that, and that. I washed before the ritual the best I could with what circumstances I have. I went around the circle three times.”

Killian looked at the floor and noticed a white circle with letters beneath her.

“It just doesn’t make sense. This should have worked.”

“I’m sure it will,” he said coming to her side. He put his hands on her shoulders. She slumped against her desk in defeat.

“I thought this would work. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?” he said, “This is the most incredible thing anyone has given me. I’m sure it will work. It’s probably my fault it isn’t working.”

“No, don’t say that you’ve been doing well.”

He laughed, “I know my strengths, Lydia.”

She liked when he said her name.

“I love it,” he said while giving her a hug. “We should get going.”