The One

A pang of epiphany

"His soul is gone," Zanna announced.

"Soul?!" Feray exclaimed.

After sending Bentley off to Hominum, Izar returned to Waylon and Feray, whom were waiting at what used to be Bentley's house—it would now be theirs. The sun had begun to set. Izar was just beginning to tell them that he had something to give them when he suddenly collapsed. With some difficulty, the Inglebirds moved him to Bentley's bed. Five minutes passed before they decided that without any knowledge of magic, they could not do anything about the situation or make any judgment. Because of that, Feray called Zanna over—and that was the first thing she said after pressing her hand on his forehead for a minute.

"And that means...he's dead?" Waylon asked, his tone unnecessarily calm.

I see an opportunity. I take it. Such were Feray's thoughts one second before she bent forward and pressed her ear against the unconscious man's chest.

"But his heart is beating," she said.

"Please don't harass him, Feray," Waylon said with a sigh, having seen through her immediately.

"But I'm just checking for heartbeat?" Feray protested.

"I'm talking about that hand."

"What hand?" The girl lifted her hand off Izar's abdomen—it had no reason to be there, practically speaking.

Zanna laughed. "My one really is meant for great things! She sees a chance and goes for it!"

Feray rose and looked upon Izar's face. She placed a hand on his cheek. Resuming a more serious demeanor, she mumbled, "But he is cold indeed. Why would his soul suddenly be yanked out like that?"

A momentary silence filled the room.

Minutes later, Waylon turned to leave. "I'll go make some food in the meantime," he declared.

"I'll join!" Zanna jumped up eagerly.

"Aren't you the only one with any idea what to do?" he questioned.

"That's all I know though—I didn't go to school."

"Make sure not to let her eat the ingredients before you even start cooking," Feray warned.

Waylon sighed.

With those two gone, Feray remained in the room, standing over Izar and studying every inch of him with her eyes alone. She'd glazed her hand over his bodice earlier to lighten the mood—and thankful that Zanna understood her intentions—but now, she was only thinking to herself.

Nothing seemed out of place when he'd just come back. Nothing seemed out of place before he'd set off. Could something have happened in Hominum? But if that were the case, Izar wouldn't have returned so soon. Along this train of logic, Feray traced back further, one day at a time.

If anything, the only abnormal day—by Refica standards—would be the first, when a cloaked woman passed by them. Yet, at the time, the woman had passed by her side, not his. Besides, nothing went wrong between then and now...but what if she'd left something behind as she passed? What if she'd left something behind that she could trigger later on?

Feray had no clue what that could be, but if that were the case at all, it would have to be on his right side. His shoulder and arm on that side, in fact, bore the highest chance. After all, he had been locking Feray in his cloak with that arm.

With that in mind, the amateur witch ran her hand over his right arm, from shoulder to finger, studying every inch of it as she did. She found nothing until she reached his index finger—where the emerald ring was. Lifting his hand closer to her face, she saw that there was a faint, sesame-sized diamond at its center. It was stuck-on, and although it was extremely difficult to catch sight of it at all, once she did, it was apparent that the diamond did not belong on the emerald.

Hence, she took it off.

The battle wore on, but Izar couldn't tell how much time had passed. In Odessa's animorbis, time seemed to become a void concept. The sky was always dark, not a star to be seen; Odessa herself barely moved—as expected of the grand sorceress. Eventually, Izar allowed himself to be thrown out of the palace and sent tumbling down the stairs into the ocean.

It's bad for me either way, he deduced, she's only playing. I have little chance in real life against her and no chance in her own animorbis.

But even Odessa was not perfect, this he knew. Did she construct what lay deep beneath the ocean? Did she know how far the ocean extended? If he traveled far enough, would he break free of her pocket dimension, or would he simply be lost?

Anywhere but here, he concluded as he plunged into the water. The last thing he saw was the slightest hint of alarm in the grand sorceress's eyes.

Hm...that's right, Odessa. You are alone.

He woke with a start. Izar's eyes shot open and he sat upright almost immediately, choking on nothing—on the memory of being drowned in the ocean, to be more precise. It was only after a violent fit of coughing that he was able to spare a moment to register his surroundings.

He was on a bed.

What is this situation? A moment of panic surged through him, stronger than even the adrenaline he'd felt when fighting the invincible. Then, he looked up to find Feray standing by his side, staring at him with a dumbfounded look on her face. Oh. For reasons unknown to himself, he seemed relieved to see her—but Izar caught himself immediately. What am I glad about? This girl is crazy.

"What are you doing?" he asked. He realized a second too late that his voice had come out rougher than he'd intended.

Feray turned his right hand over—the hand she'd been holding—and put something onto his palm.

"You came in the house and just passed out," she said, as if his attitude was normal. It wasn't. "We called Zanna and she said your soul was gone, so I looked around and found that on your ring. I just took it off and you woke right away."

Izar inspected the diamond. Odessa's, no doubt. A dark green mist rose from his palm and engulfed the gem, burning it as if the mist was fire. Now, that was taken care of.

Before he could respond, Zanna charged into the room.

"My one! It's time for—oh, Izar. Good morning," greeted the bubbly girl with a giggle. "It's time for dinner. You join too."

"In a moment," Izar said.

At this time, Waylon poked his head in. "You're back?"

Izar flashed his usual fake smile at the both of them, ignoring Feray. "I'm back. Were you worried about me, dearie?"

"...no. Take your time."

With that said, Waylon left the room and Zanna followed.

When they left again, Izar felt his smile subside. At the same time, Feray tilted her head suggestively at him. It was then that it occurred to him: since when did I not mind her seeing my real expressions?

The worst part was, she seemed to know exactly that.

"Hey," said Feray, "Aren't you going to tell me anything yet?"

"Some," he promised, "Not all. Later tonight I'll fetch you."

"Whoop!" Then, she, too, left for the living room. "What's for dinner?" she called out to her brother as she went.