The One

Lifetimes ago

Nasr was indeed still in their house when Waylon arrived—after all, only a moment had passed after Feray and Izar teleported to the latter's animorbis. The dark sorcerer contemplated the possibility of the pair making it back to the house: if nothing went astray, they would arrive where they had been before traveling to an animorbis. However, he doubted it; and although his own spirit was not restricted to any world, the truth was that there was no use of him where Feray would end up.

A curt, cold chuckle of self-mockery escaped his lips. True as it was, it did not feel pleasant thinking those words.

They are both very reliable, and their bond is so strong, Nasr thought to himself, to such an extent that it invokes envy. It makes anyone long to be a part of them...even I—a dark, ancient soul as I.

He followed the young man into Feray's room and watched as he wrote a letter to Bentley Snyder. Nasr himself had suggested to Feray—only once—that she used the human as a sacrifice, but he did not make that suggestion earnestly. She was shocked when she heard it, and he could see from her eyes that it was at that moment that she saw him as he was: a nonchalant soul capable of efficient solutions if human morals were not included in the calculation. He let her know, as early as then, that he was the man whose downfall was the result of his apathy and nothing else. There would be no misunderstanding afterwards, Nasr gathered, so long as that was made clear from the start.

And she did understand that message perfectly, but she seemed also acutely aware of what he was thinking at any given moment.

"I don't know if Feray gives you every detail that she gives Zanna and I," Waylon wrote, "So I will write as much as I deem necessary." He went on to describe his sister's relationship with Nasr, concluding with, "She has told me repeatedly that she thinks she knows what he aims to do—which is not to bring you to Refica, but something else entirely—yet she won't tell me in case she's wrong, and in case he is watching. Actually, I think he might be watching me right now, too, as she is not here. Feray has told me before, 'I'll go along with what I think his plan is, though if what I think is true, it would distort every one of our perceptions of him, my own included.' I find that a little strange. If she can guess what he plans to do, her perception of him has already changed—unless his plan is so uncharacteristic of him that what makes her unsure is the very fact that it is uncharacteristic of him. At this point, though, I think anything is possible when it comes to the first dark sorcerer."

This was not news to Nasr—he had been there when Feray was talking to her brother about it, and he even showed himself so that he would not be eavesdropping.

"According to Feray, not once has he mentioned any methods of freeing him after speaking of you that first time. The only way he's talked about it at all is with his being freed as a precondition or time stamp in relation to other plans," Waylon wrote. "She has no plans to use you, of course, and I'm sure he knows that too."

The young man furrowed his brows, puzzled by his own message to his friend. It was no surprise that Waylon couldn't imagine what Nasr was planning—in fact, the dark sorcerer was quite certain that even Odessa, as she was now, would be unable to guess. If she was still the young woman she was thousands of years ago, it might have been what she planned herself; now, she no longer thought that way.

A cuckoo familiar flew in from the window and landed on Feray's desk. Waylon frowned. Of course, the grand sorceress wished to see him.

Waylon chose to walk to the headmistress's office. It gave him more time to mentally prepare himself, although he could only guess what she wanted to say.

Until he reached the academy, nobody stopped him or stared at him. They did not recognize him as Feray's brother—that was how little attention everyone paid everyone else in Refica. When he entered the school, however, curious glances were tossed his way. Nobody dared ask, but students did murmur amongst themselves. Waylon made his way to Odessa's office. The door was left ajar as he arrived, but he knocked lightly first anyway. Then, he entered and closed the door behind him.

"How aware are you of what your sister has done?" Odessa asked, sitting before her crystal ball as she always was whenever she summoned him.

"What do you mean?"

"The magic that she used in today's incident. The person she has been meeting," she specified. It seemed as though she didn't mind not having the benefit of mystery.

"I am aware," Waylon answered simply. She called him a "person". Should I be glad about that?

"Then you must also know that she plans to free him with your life," Odessa said.

"I'm not sure how accurate that is."

"The blood of the person who loves the fated one," Odessa said, "Will free Nasr Palmentere. The pain brought about by that process for the next five minutes will be excruciating enough that even a sorcerer may lose his life. What does that tell you, Waylon dear?"

Her voice was cold and distanced, and in his moment of silence—as he was thinking—she smiled, as if his silence proved his hesitation and her victory.

"That doesn't need to be me," he said, keeping his responses as short as possible.

"Who else would love enough to die but a brother?"

Wait a second, Waylon thought, suddenly alert. "Who else would love enough to die but a brother"? Did she think Nasr had meant to hesitate all those years ago when she was about to seal him, thinking she meant to kill him? Is she actually feeling bad about it, thinking he was ready to die in her hands, but she never was?

If Waylon had been playing safe before, he needed to know now—especially considering that Nasr himself might actually be in the same room, listening. In his mind, he noted that he was perhaps becoming more reckless and less careful—more like Feray, in a sense. But Feray's curiosity had never failed her. What would it be like for him?

"Nasr Palmentere is your brother." Nonetheless, he kept his words precise.

"He is dead to both worlds," she pointed out.

"Not anymore."

"That is why I made the following announcement just half an hour ago: Feray Inglebird has revived Nasr Palmentere, the dark sorcerer. Whatever happens after that...we shall see."

"Are you that confident that she'll trade me in?"

"They are together at almost all times; she visits him more than she visits you. And she will give you up for what she wants, just as I did."

I was right, she feels bad about it. What a ruthless way to express that. For that thought, Waylon became bolder than he had yet been with Odessa. "Ms. Palmentere, after all the years you have spent away from him, please excuse me for saying that you may no longer know your own brother. As he is now, he might understand the bond between my sister and I, and—"

"—and not demand your blood?" Odessa finished, not without a cold smirk that she could no longer hide. "My brother is the man who killed his own parents, forced his brother into self-exile, and almost destroyed the balance of the world with his magic. He would kill his family for personal gain, and no one else in this world is any different. Why hold on to your imagination?"

Waylon sighed.

"Ms. Palmentere," he said, "I don't know how you used to be, and I don't know how he used to be. All I know is all of that was thousands of years ago, and that right now, it's you who poisons others for self-preservation, leaves a hundred people to die despite having full power to save them; and it's he who teaches his arts to those whom he believes should have ways to preserve themselves, he who never asked my sister to turn me in despite that being his easiest access to freedom."

This time, she did not speak, but it wasn't hard to tell that she hated hearing what he said. Nevertheless, there was no going back now.

"Besides," he added, "As he is now, I believe Nasr Palmentere might not sacrifice you for anything."

"You know nothing."

"Of course. I have misspoken—please excuse me."

With that, he bowed his head at the headmistress and left the room.