Twenty-Seven
I have nothing. No illusions, no guardian weapons, no magic at all. But I’m not dead. I lie on the cold stone floor feeling weak and sick and … different. As if a hum I was never aware of is gone. Like a background noise you don’t notice until it’s no longer there.
You have no magic.
I don’t know how long I’ve been lying here, the tears drying on my face and the chill creeping through my clothes. I’m vaguely aware of the others in the room: the guard pacing in the corner, dealing with his own personal demons; Saber and Marlin conversing with Amon; Gaius hovering near me, almost protectively.
You have no magic.
I blink a few times and see the ring back on Gaius’s hand. Is he extra powerful now that he has both his magic and mine? What would he be capable of if he wasn’t co
