Blood and Ivy

Chapter 21

The black leather cover was worn, rubbed down to its original brown on the corners. It looked so plain sitting on the desk yet it seemed to hold so much power over Synne.

Her father didn't own many things, it had saved Synne the pain of having to go through them after he died. She had completely forgotten about this journal, having never come across it when she was responsible for his belongings. She fingered the soft leather, it had been out of sight and out of mind.

She took a seat, preparing herself. Who knew what she would find inside the pages, all she could hope for was some answers.

January 17th, 1999

Her eyes were wide at the words heading the first page. The day she was born.

Born at 11:57am. 8lbs 7oz. No complications. Female. Mother and baby doing well.

Synne hadn't given thought to her mother in a long time. Sometimes she had fantasized about her growing up. She had quickly learned that it caused more pain than good.

January 18th, 1999
Discharged from hospital. Nothing to report.

January 19th, 1999
Nothing of note to report.

Synne flipped through the pages, eyebrows scrunched up. There were dozens of entries similar to those ones with little variation besides reporting milestones with little enthusiasm. The pages were adorned with her father's handwriting but the words didn't feel like his. But then again, maybe she never really knew him.

August 5th, 2001
Speech development seems delayed. Will continue to monitor.

She flipped through more pages.

June 8th, 2005
No essence of power yet noticed. No affinity to report.

There were hundreds of short reports such as those and all in her fathers writing. They were written without any affection, nothing portraying emotion. Synne started frantically turning pages, sections. What had happened to the seemingly proud father when she road her bike without training wheels for the first time? Her first gold medal in cross country running? High school graduation? She slammed the book shut.

No. This wasn't a journal. It was a log book. Its sole purpose was to document any magikal occurrences with her. Synne had a similar one when she did a research project in her undergrad at college, tracking the progress of her bacteria.

Was that all she was? An experiment? Who was Colin Montaigne really? The journal had made no mention of her mother besides the first entry. Did her dad even love her? He seemed emotional enough when Synne used to ask.

She ran a hand through her wet hair. She needed fresh air. She needed to talk to Caser.

Her body ached in protest on her usual walk to the woods. The sunny morning had become overcast and her shadow had disappeared. It smelled like rain.

"Hiya Sunshine, what brings you to this neck of the woods?" Caser leaned comfortably against a tree, "Get it? Neck? Cause I'm a vamp." He laughed heartily at his own joke, before his face fell on Synne's solemn one.

She would have cried if she could have, if she had the energy. Her knees buckled and Caser caught her, holding her shaking body to him. His hands lighting up her skin.

Synne told him of the events since she had last seen him, leaving out the more intimate details with Rolo. It was hard to believe that it had only been 24 hours.

After she was done they stood in their embrace in silence, Caser stroking her scarred shoulder.

He finally spoke, "You smell like him."

Synne's brows scrunched up, "Who, the Baron?"

Caser stiffened ever so slightly, "No, the Wraith."

Synne pulled away, troubled. Caser reluctantly let her go. "What's that? Is something following me?"

Caser's goofy smile returned, "No darling, its what us outsiders refer to Rolo as. He's the last thing you see before you die, like a wraith. He strikes quickly and silently. And an extremely skilled necromancer. One might say more so than the Baron himself."

He studied her and frowned, "Be careful with him, Synne. Rolo only looks out for Rolo."

Synne's cheeks reddened, she felt like a whore. Kissing not only Caser but Rolo too in the same day? She scolded herself for being so harsh, she was surviving.

"I have to stay on his good side to avoid any more one to ones with the Baron."

Caser ran his long fingers through his hair. "I can't get over that asshole, outing you as a fledgling like that in front of his most loyal dark mancers. They would kill for that seat."

"So I've heard."

He snorted, "Well I've been thinking about the Naiad and your memories. It must mean something. They are clever creatures."

"Whatever it is, we need to figure it out if it can help me. Before someone challenges me." She spoke quietly, scared saying it aloud might make it real.

Caser thought it best to attempt some minor defensive magik work. He was unhappy that Rolo hadn't taken it upon himself to teach her, instead Rolo was focusing on physical maneuvers.

"He clearly underestimates you," Caser said, "I believe in you, in your magik."

By time dusk started to tickle the clouds Synne was able to create the roots that Rolo had tripped her with.

"Ugh! Why do they keep dying?! I tried to accept necromancy but it'
s so damn pushy!" Synne huffed before kicking her wilted roots, the shadowy power within her laughed.

Caser grabbed her wrists, "Hey now, don't beat yourself up, you're exhausted. It doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to be enough. You will quite literally get yourself killed if you focus on perfection, darling. Working with roots isn't just beginner stuff, soil can and will block magik. This will be enough to slow down anyone who comes after you."

Synne looked at the ground around them. Roots, from spindly hairs to thick as arms, jutted out of the earth in the clearing. Chunks of soil had been tossed around and pebbles sat on top in loose dirt. She nodded to Caser and smiled, she had to accept less than excellent.

The walk back to the manor was under a rose gold sky and Synne couldn't help but feel a little giddy. They hadn't spoken of their kiss from yesterday. But Caser's gaze had been softer, he had stood closer.

Synne might just be able to accept a world with magik in it.