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“He who has been chosen, this star-split soul, shall be the Catalyst to this prophecy of mirrored fates. He is our reckoning. The other, our deliverance. Together, they are our salvation.”
“A Catalyst and a Conduit,” the others chanted. “All and none, all and one. Mirrors, my King. Mirrors. Not one Harbinger, but two—one yet to be reborn! Two fates entangled, another entwined. The Source, it gives and takes and gives and takes and gives and takes. They are life and death. They are the cycle, preserved. They are vengeance and mercy, incarnate.”
Arcana was the conversion of one element of aether into something else entirely, drawing upon the pure aether in our veins to transmute that elemental energy at will. It was true control. True manipulation of the lifeblood of the universe. The complex science and spellwork of the gods.
It was a strange thing, to be afraid of my own happiness.
Life was a little more frightening when you had something to lose.
“My, my, Miss Asher. A filthy mouth and sharp teeth? I do like that in a woman.”
“I’m offended, Miss Asher. Are you assuming I’m the type to let my masculinity stand in the way of Sophrosyne’s best sandwiches?” “I mean, yes,” she admitted. “You don’t strike me as the type to frequent such a pretty place.” “Are you suggesting I’m not pretty? Rude.” I replied, leading her into the shop.
Darkness is as inevitable as Shadow in life,
so it was just me and the tea kettle, screaming to ourselves at midnight.
What a fucking mood
“I would like to be your friend, though. I don’t really do that much, either… But for you, I think I’ll have to make an exception.”
“I do indeed exist, bisexually,” I acknowledged. “Neither of you assholes are creative enough to conjure me up in your imaginations.”
Arken in my bed. Arken on her knees. Arken screaming my name. Platonic. So very platonic.
“What did I tell you about reading my mind, Kieran?” “That it is an alarmingly attractive trait, and I should do it more often?”
“I aim to be irritating regardless of gender, actually. I’m an equal opportunity prick.”
The standard practice was to wait until you were in your third year of study here at the Arcane Studium, to have at least ten quarters under your belt before delving into defensive and combative spellwork. I had… two quarters, stubborn determination, and a handful of letters of recommendation.
If I can’t have him… Let him remain wild, untamed. Let him sample, but never settle. Please. I couldn’t bear it.
“Consider this me begging, Ark. I want this. I want you. Gods, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, how many times I’ve…”
“You are,” he whispered. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Arken. It devastates me. You know that, don’t you?”
Because you’re in love with her. You’re in love with her, and now you have something you’re not willing to lose.
“Táieach kyn chroí, myon-Caindélach,” I whispered. I love you, Little Conduit.
