thunderstruck | book #2 | discontinued

I X

"Tykon!" shouted Maksim as he spotted a shock of electric blue hair in Astracia's city square. He had been looking for his friend all morning, having started at the Central Hall before making his way to the Trevil's house. He had found him in neither of these places, so instead had taken to wandering around the cobbled streets in the hopes of bumping into him—and here he had found him.

Tykon appeared not to have heard his name being called, and as Maksim pushed through crowds, ignoring the judgmental glances cast towards him from people who no doubt knew all about his brother and the Dark War, he noticed that his friend was staring absently into the waters of the fountain.

Maksim grimaced. He had heard about Cliona's death from his mother this morning and had felt guilty that he had not known sooner. He could only imagine how it must feel to lose a loved one through war and violence when death was so uncommon nowadays. Tykon's family had always been so much closer than his own, too, so that Maksim often envied the way they cared for one another in a way that Hilda never quite had for him. He almost turned around and left, too unsure of what to say, but forced his feet to push him forward until he was standing beside Tykon, looking at him only through his reflection in the crystalline waters.

Even in the reflection of the pond, Tykon looked pale and tired, with green-tinged skin that made him look as though he was standing in the Opal's kitchen, surrounded by the emerald walls that Maksim had always despised.

"I am sorry," Maksim said quietly, his eyes unwavering in the stillness of the fountain. The water was not flowing today, and both warlocks' eyes looked the same shade of blue, despite them being vastly different in person. That was the thing about reflections; they were never quite accurate, not even when the surface was as clear as this one. "I cannot imagine what you must be going through, Tykon."

"No," Tykon responded lowly without shifting his focus. Maksim could not recall a time when he had ever heard him sound so deflated and hollow. "You cannot."

"If there is anything that I can do ..."

"I rather think you have done enough, thank you." It was then that he raised his eyes from the water to meet Maksim's, and when he did so, Maksim found himself wishing that he hadn't. There was so much pain in them. In his face, too, as though his grief had gnawed at him until he was gaunt and only half himself. There were shadows beneath his eyes that had not been there before, and his lids were hooded as though he was barely awake. More than all of that, though, was an anger that Maksim had not been expecting to see, and he gaped at the sight of it, at the sound of the venom dripping from the words he had just said.

"I am not sure what you mean by that," he said when he recovered himself enough to speak again. "Tykon, I know that you are angry—"

"You know nothing." Tykon's hands tightened into fists at his side, and Maksim took an involuntary step back, suddenly aware of the fact that he was in a public space with warlocks and witches eyeing the two men curiously. The last thing he needed was to cause another scene—his brother had already done more than enough to draw such attention. "My mother is gone, and it is your fault."

"My fault?" This had been the last thing Maksim had expected to hear. He blamed himself for many things, but how could he have ever stopped the Dark War? How could he have saved Tykon's mother when he had almost died himself?

"Yours and your family's," he spat as though there was something rotten in his mouth. "Were it not for your brother, my mother would still be alive. You and your mother created a monster, and it is I and everyone else who is paying the price."

"Do you think I wanted this?" he questioned disbelievingly. "Do you think that I wished for an evil brother whom it is always my job to track down and fight? Do you think I wished for people to be hurt and killed because of my own blood? What my brother and s—" He stopped himself quickly, biting his lip and exhaling before he continued. Sister, he had almost said, but Refilyn knew what might happen if people were to find out about Erika. "What my brother did makes me sick to the stomach, and it is only worse that because of him, you have lost your mother. Do you think I wish to carry this horror and guilt around with me, this fear that my family is evil and there is nothing I can do to save them?"