The Ice Conjuror

Chapter Seven

Ivan

After Eva left, I flopped onto the couch, groaning in agony from my killer hangover. My head was pounding and my stomach was doing somersaults, reminding me of yesterday's events, not all of which were entirely clear in my mind.

My eyes were locked on the crimson string wrapped around my pinky, its thin line snaking out the door and she was out at the other end. My heart raced, and my mind swirled with questions and doubts. The revelation that Eva was my soulmate had thrown my world off balance, and I felt lost and unsure of what to do next.

Despite the electric pull between us, I didn't know how she felt about the bond or what she expected of me. It was as if a chasm had opened up between us, and I didn't know how to bridge the gap. My mind was a jumbled mess, and the thought of asking her anything made my stomach knot up in anxiety.

I picked up my phone, scrolling through the news to distract myself, when my eyes landed on the headline -"The Puppet Master of Polaris City Independant: Edward Foster's Clandestine Connections To Foreign Affairs.", an article by The Bayview Herald, one of my father's journals.

I gritted my teeth, hot anger bubbling inside me as I read the smear piece about my boss, a man respected deeply for his integrity and bravery. The article showed a picture of him meeting with a foreign diplomat, who I recognized to be his brother-in-law. My fingers tightened around my phone when I saw that the smear piece was written by Lucy Bishop.

Lucy Bishop, the product of a rival private university, now serves as a writer for one of Polaris City's most corrupt publications. Her words are nothing but an echo of the powerful corporations that hold the city in their grip, using her as their willing pawn to push their own agendas.

I hastily threw on my sweatpants, a gray t-shirt, and a hoodie. My dad needed to hear what I had to say, even if I wasn't entirely sure what that was yet, or what it would accomplish. All I knew was that I was furious and had to express it.

Leaving my apartment, I walked briskly through the Arts District towards the metro station. The air was chilly and carried the scent of fresh coffee from the nearby cafe. I could hear the sound of birds chirping and the distant hum of traffic. As I approached the station, I saw my train pull in, and I quickened my pace, making it just in time to hop on board.

As I entered the metro, the doors closed with a hiss, and the train hummed to life. The car swayed and rattled, making me feel off balance. The flickering lights created an eerie ambiance, casting shadows over the other passengers. My anger simmered just beneath the surface, tension coiled tight in my chest. The metro moved too slowly for my growing frustration.

I dialed Edward's number, and after a few rings, I was greeted by his warm fatherly voice. "Hello, Ivan."

"Hey," I trailed. "I'm going to talk to my dad about the article. I have to do something about it."

"Son, I understand that you're upset, but it might be the best idea." His voice was reassuring.

But I just couldn't let it go. "I have to do something," I repeated, clenching my fist.

"I'm actually already working on a satirical response piece," Edward said. "Sometimes the best way to fight back is with humor. We'll take their ridiculous claims and make them look even more absurd."

I smiled, "You haven't lost your touch at all, old man."

He let out a hearty laugh. "I'll see you at work, son."

"Alright, see ya," I replied before hanging up.

I felt a little lighter, a little less angry. But I still wanted to talk to my dad.