The One

Trust...

As attention was easily shifted to Feray, Izar fell to his knees. He made not a sound but clutched his chest with a hand. Surprisingly—to him, anyway—Waylon was still beside him.

The younger witch knelt next to him and placed a hand on his back, trying to ease his pain. "Izar," he said, "It's alright. She hasn't betrayed anyone. Nothing bad is happening to her."

Izar was unable to answer until a full minute later. Yes, Waylon's magic eased his pain, but it was very temporary, as the pain was not dealt to him by any physical means—as long as he was emotionally burdened, the poison would renew that agony again and again.

"I... know she's not possessed," Izar said, "You can fool the others, but not me."

"Then what are you...suffering for?" Waylon asked, pausing to choose the right word.

"It's a fact that she used dark magic. What is she using Nasr's magic for? Why? Do you know what it costs?"

It sounded like he was asking Waylon, yet his eyes were on the ground. For Odessa. Because of you. Yes, I know, and it's not that bad, the witch answered in his mind. But I can't tell you that. I especially can't tell you that she agreed to free Nasr for you.

"You're not saying anything," Izar noted. Now, he looked up at his companion, who still said nothing. Waylon merely gazed upon him, a saddened look in his eyes. This, Izar could only interpret in one way. "Am I the only one who doesn't know?"

"It's about things she's doing," Waylon said at last, "I think it's best that you ask her directly."

With that said, he got up to leave. Izar remained on the ground for a minute longer, once again feeling his own emotions in his chest. This time, he was alone.

Why didn't you call for me?

Am I unneeded, now that no poison is bothering you two?

Was I only a tool after all?

...Wait.

As soon as he thought that word, the pain stopped. What was I hoping for? That's what I wanted from the start. I myself asked her to prioritize her brother. The only issue here is her dark magic.

Yes, indeed...why should he be disappointed? Why should he hope to be more than what he presented himself to be? It didn't matter what Izar meant to the siblings if the siblings meant the world to each other. If what Waylon said was true, that latter part was true, and that was all Izar wanted to see. Dark magic, though, was a risky thing. He should check with Feray on that, regardless of what she really thought of him.

As those thoughts traversed his mind, Izar stood, waiting for a second just in case pain should seize him—it was quite a regular experience lately, although nobody asked.

It didn't, this time.

"Let Odessa deal with it, you say!" Feray exclaimed, utterly exasperated. "What did you make me do—no, I mean, what have I done? My face will be all over the news in like, five minutes!"

She was in her own room back at the house, her window closed. In the same room, Nasr was sitting at the foot of her bed, chuckling softly at her reaction.

"Would you rather witness Izar kill himself trying to protect you?" he asked.

As usual, one question from Nasr was enough to answer any number of enquiries she had. "No," Feray said immediately. Then, she widened her eyes in realization. "Oh, right, Izar..."

There came a knock on the door of the house. Both Feray and Nasr turned their heads in the direction. Without another word, Nasr vanished—only to return a moment later.

"It is he," Nasr told her. "With full misunderstanding of everything."

"Of course he'd misunderstand! Wait...misunderstand what exactly?"

She opened the door and Izar stepped in. He was smiling his usual smile, but this time, it did not put her at ease. Although the curve of his lips was familiar, the feeling it gave off was entirely foreign.

"Izar, um..." Where should she begin? So much had happened since the last time she saw him, and even though it wasn't as if she and Waylon didn't want him to know, it was true that they did not tell him—to prevent him from inflicting harm upon himself, but whatever the reason, the fact that they did not inform him remained.

"I hope you're not feeling obliged to explain anything or include me in your exploits, because you're not," Izar said lightheartedly.

"...what?"

"The only thing I'm concerned about is the magic that you used."

"...the only thing? Izar, you're—"

"Jealous," Nasr noted casually, hovering just in front of Izar.

"I'm what?" Though of course, Izar himself did not hear that. "Take my hand, dearie. I'll have to ask you somewhere more private," he said, holding out a hand.

Feray creased her brows. But his condition is unstable, she recalled Nasr saying. Even if he seems calm now, that's probably only because he's totally misunderstood something and is closing himself off again. What if he breaks down in his own animorbis? I mean, that's definitely what he meant by somewhere more private...

"How about you come to my place?" she asked.

"And be restricted in a space I have no control over, while you practice the magic that you do? I'm afraid that would make me quite stupid," Izar replied, still smiling.

"Reasonable," Nasr said, his expression suddenly grave. "Feray, remember in your very heart all that you have learned, and be ready to make urgent decisions. Trust in your own judgement—as I do."

Thus, with her lips drawn to a frown, she took Izar's hand.

Waylon exited the department store wondering where he should go. He knew that Feray wouldn't be returning to the academy just yet—not after doing what she did. She would most likely go home first, and Izar...was still inside, but he might teleport to where Feray was to save time. The bracelet he had given them seemed to be more than a communication device—perhaps Izar would know when they were in danger and be able to immediately locate them.

He sighed. Maybe he should go home as well, if only to check.

As he arrived, Waylon peered habitually into the window. He caught sight of Feray taking Izar's hand. Are they going to his animorbis? He wondered to himself, with the poison, is that safe? But if that was her choice, he would trust that it was a choice worth making.

Nevertheless, Waylon opened the door. Nasr must have been with Feray up until the moment Izar took her; and he would not follow her into Izar's animorbis even if he could—if Izar himself was unaware of his existence, he wouldn't be able to get out.

That means...he's still here somewhere, maybe watching me, Waylon concluded.

He made his way to Feray's room. Along the way, he said, "If you're still here, I'd like to thank you for sparing Izar. Even without his poison, I'm quite sure she would still try to find a way to free you without sacrificing anyone...and I think you know that too, if you are as sensible as she says you are."

That was all he said, and of course, he didn't receive a response. Even if Nasr did respond, he wouldn't know. Next, Waylon sat at Feray's desk and began addressing a letter to Bentley. It hadn't been very long since the incident, and if she was with both Nasr and Izar, there was no way she could have had the time to give their friend in Hominum an update. It was still the middle of the week, and Bentley wouldn't be expecting anything—but there was no harm in informing him as soon as possible.

It took Waylon almost an hour to relay to Bentley everything he wanted to. It was only upon very rare occasions that he wrote to him at all, let alone a lengthy message. Regardless, he mailed the note.

Another hour later, Waylon checked the mailbox again—if only because he was anxious. To his surprise, Bentley had written back.

Waylon: They're at the house here. Both of them are resting, in your old rooms, which your parents have been keeping clean and neat. If the last place they visited was Izar's animorbis, I have some bad news for you.