The One

Busting the door open

After warping the three to Refica—more specifically, Bentley's house—Izar set up the mailbox in the bedroom as promised.

"It's getting late," Izar said, "Don't go anywhere tonight. Refica isn't like Hominum; people are always trying to find ways to prove themselves worthy here. That means danger for weaklings like you three."

He placed no stress on the word "weaklings", but none of the three objected to it. At this point of time, all three of them were essentially only human.

"Then," Izar continued, eyeing a clearly troubled Bentley, "Since this is a rather small complex, I'll accompany her ladyship to Miss Owen's place."

"Huh?" came Feray's immediate reaction.

"Both her and her grandma agreed beforehand. Come on."

Feray stared after Izar's back until they were out of the door. In actuality, it must have taken them at least half a minute to reach there, but it felt to her as if it had only been five seconds. She wished she could reach out and take a corner of his cloak in her hand; she wished she could, perhaps, stop time.

We're letting this man decide everything about our fate and we know nothing about him.

As that thought crossed her mind, she came to a halt, right outside the house. Night in Refica was dark, given that there was very little artificial lighting on the street; moreover, this was not the city. Above their heads, the moon became the sole luminary, shining her gentle beam indiscriminately on all that lived and died below her.

Zanna's house is... Feray glanced sideways. A minute away, maybe.

After tonight, would she even see Izar again? What did she need to ask him, if anything?

"What are you stopping there for?" Perhaps she'd stood still for too long. Izar noticed already, and he turned back to her, although he did not move from his spot.

What should I say to buy myself some time before I figure out what exactly I want to know?

She bit her lower lip. Then, she looked up straight into his eyes, determined.

"I want some time alone with you."

"You...?" Under the moonlight, she could still see the twitch of his brow—a sign of distrust, perhaps. Izar recovered in an instant, once again putting on his flawless smile. "What is the urgency? Didn't I just say it's dangerous here at night?"

"You'll find a way, right?" she challenged him instead.

"...right now? Are you sure?"

"Yep."

"Who could have known that you'd be this intrigued, dearie?" Izar said in defeat as he backtracked to where she was. He held out a hand and she took it. The next instant, they were standing on a bridge.

After Feray and Izar left the house, Waylon and Bentley went into the study. It was nearing ten in the evening, but they were not in a hurry to get to bed. Bentley opened both doors to his bookshelf, revealing a few books and the rest of the space filled with all sorts of gadgets, none of which Waylon had seen before.

"Feray told me she's interested in herbology," Bentley said, scanning the book titles before closing the bookshelf again. He'd never done any research in that area. "She also said you met Izar when you healed a bird."

"I'm not completely sure if that's what happened, though it did look like it." Waylon described the scene from his memory to offer Bentley an alternative perspective.

"Ah...I'm afraid I don't have much information on that. I mostly focused on the gadgets and devices."

Waylon nodded. "I imagine that's how you survived. Show me what you know."