Three's a Spell

An Echo of Destiny

[Vernon]

I looked up from the piano keys to see Sylas staring at me. The top buttons of his loose shirt had become undone sometime in the night; the neckline now hung down, allowing a peek at his collarbone. I could feel the velvet of that soft skin on my lips just by looking at it.

When my gaze shifted to the side, I saw Elora. She was asleep, leaning her whole body against one of the large soft pillows that Sylas insisted on having on every couch in the house. I rested my fingers, and stood up from the stool I had been seated on.

“Let her sleep,” Sylas cooed as he stood. He walked to the large wooden chest by the fireplace and opened it to pull out one of the hundreds of blankets that he has hidden around our home.

I watched him as he gently draped the sherpa throw over Elora. He straightened up, then extended an arm out towards the door, gesturing for us to leave the room.

Sylas led me to my private study. After I stepped in, he closed the heavy door behind us. The sound was soft, deliberate. He walked by me and sat in one of the pillowy armchairs by the window, then stared out at the moonlit gardens. He often found me retreated here after social engagements. This was my place for quiet re-calibration. Tonight, however, I felt different, charged. I sat in the chair across from him.

"She is leaving quite an impression, isn’t she?" Sylas murmured. He turned to me, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

"An impression is certainly one word for it. My hand is no longer violet, and yet… it still feels quite warm." I tried to offer a charming smile, but knew it felt somewhat distracted. "You seem contemplative, my dear. More so than usual."

Sylas moved his eyes away again, gazing out at the manicured hedges that looked like sleeping beasts in the silver light. "I am. And I believe you are too, though perhaps you haven't given it a name yet." He paused. I could tell he was trying to choose his words carefully. This was clearly not a conversation he wanted to rush. "That 'shock' we felt, Vernon. When she touched us, I know I have already said that it was not mere static."

Vernon's gaze sharpened, losing its distraction. "No. It felt… 'Resonant' I believe we landed on." He looked at Sylas, a question forming. "Is that part of why you are convinced of this magical bond?"

"I felt it once before Vernon," Sylas confirmed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Not the shock, but everything that has come since. When I first laid eyes on you, centuries ago, standing by the ocean, That same quiet, inexorable pull." He turned, his soft, hopeful expression told of an almost vulnerable certainty. "Vernon, I believe Elora is our fated mate."

The words hung in the air, weighty with millennia of implication.

My brows drew together, a conflict no doubt playing out across my face. I almost scoffed. I thought about denying it, but a shadow of apprehension passed over me.

"A fated mate," I repeated slowly, tasting the concept. "For us both? After all this time?"

I stood and began to pace, then stopped, facing Sylas. "Our bond… It is unique, Sylas. Unbreakable. We built this, piece by careful piece, over centuries. That wasn’t ‘fate’, that was work."

My pacing started again, and I could feel myself heating. I admit this woman has gotten under my skin, but after this short time is she going to be the first stake driven into my perfect romance? Have I missed a longing in Sylas for something other than me in his world?

"What does your new idea of 'fated' mean for us? For our established, perfectly balanced… duet?"

Sylas reached out, taking my hand and stopping me as I almost passed by him a second time. His touch was steady and reassuring.

"It means adding a new melody, not erasing the old. It means an expansion, Vernon. Not a replacement. Never a replacement."

He stood, pulled me in by my tie, and embraced me, immediately cooling my heat. When my breath slowed, he pulled away. One of his hands left my shoulder blade to pull the knot of my tie, loosening it, before it found its way back to its home in the dip of my back. "I felt it, dear heart, just as I felt it with you. That magnetic north of my oldest desires reorienting, subtly yet powerfully, towards another being. And I know you felt it too. I saw it in your eyes when she laughed, when she argued, when you deliberately teased her and watched her blush."

I thought back to dinner, when Elora gave me a passionate rant about every plant in the ‘garlic family’ after I teased her about eradicating all garlic from the earth. I felt it as a gentle tug beneath my ribs, a current beneath my skin that had remained dormant. It was exclusively reserved for Sylas… until now. I could feel the sense of a missing piece slotting into place.

Sylas’ words suddenly rang in my heart, ‘a new melody’ joining our beloved harmony. She wasn’t a new song for either of us, but another part, here to create a richer, more complex sound. It was his ‘magnetic north of his oldest desires reorienting’, and as I thought about those words I could recognize that feeling too.

‘Subtly, yet powerfully, towards another.’ We are both being drawn into a constellation of shared destinies.

I sighed, a long, drawn-out sound. "Okay, I felt... something. The novelty is… intriguing, to say the least." I released Sylas from our embrace, our hands falling into each other's between us.

As I spoke, the words suddenly became easier to let out. “And her magic, so vibrant, so utterly alive. I'm drawn to her too, Sylas, undeniably. Intimacy between the three of us… the thought holds a distinct allure. I won't deny it."

My gaze drifted. How could I contemplate a future only now beginning to form. "But a permanent addition? To our deeply-rooted tree? Our lives are so perfectly ordered, so deeply entwined. What would it look like? How would it work?" My relaxation was once again gone, replaced by genuine anxious uncertainty.

"We would figure it out, as we always have," Sylas said, his thumb stroking my knuckles.

"Together. We would weave her in, allowing our harmony to grow richer, more complex. This isn't a challenge to our bond, Vernon. It's an affirmation of it. A recognition that something so strong, so deep, can only expand to welcome more."

I looked from our joined hands to Sylas' unwavering gaze, a hesitant smile beginning to form on his lips, "besides, isn’t she an earth witch? Who else is more perfect to tend our ‘deeply-rooted tree’."

I felt calmed once again as his theatrics wiggled their way into a serious conversation. I feel myself giving in, "do you truly believe this?"

"With every beat of my un-beating heart," Sylas replied softly. "And I believe, deep down, you do too." He leaned into our hands and reached his neck towards me just before his lips gently, and briefly, landed on mine. "Are you afraid, my love?"

My smile twisted, a mix of mischief and vulnerability. "Terrified. And yet utterly fascinated. After all these centuries, to find something new that sparks such… curiosity. It's almost rude of fate, isn't it?"

I squeezed Sylas' hand. "Very well, my most astute darling. Let us explore this 'fate.' But you'll hold my hand, won't you? A new dance can feel rather exhilarating, but I much prefer not to trip in my old age."

Sylas' own smile broadened, a radiant thing. "Always, my love. Always." He squeezed my hand back once more, a silent promise.

The night was still young, and our future, now laced with an unexpected third, had just become infinitely more interesting.