6. An Arcane Explanation

I awoke to Beth rolling over in the bed, snuggling herself deeper into my embrace. The city was already awake outside, and I could hear everyone beginning their work week. For a fleeting moment, I almost missed having to get up to go to class. The certainty and predictability of the monotony was reassuring and comforting. The whirlwind overhaul of my life over the past few days had left me exhausted and feeling completely out of control.

Still, I was lying in a comfortable bed, in an incredible apartment, with a girl who loved me in my arms. All was not bad. The morning light entering the room illuminated her face, her short hair an auburn crown adorning her head. I was surprised to see that her skin looked markedly clearer. I was partially surprised that I had noticed at all but also bewildered at the development from the previous morning. Even last night she hadn’t looked as good. Obviously, she was young, but she hadn’t had a particularly lavish upbringing, and yesterday her body showed it.

Today I could see improvements. Beth’s skin was less pocked and marked, and one of her moles had shrunk significantly. Her nose, which had already been cute in my eyes, no longer had a blatant bend, now just a minor notch where she had broken it. Most astoundingly, she seemed to be fuller. She was still dainty and petite, but she no longer appeared to be on the verge of shattering from slight contact. Her breasts were slightly plumper, her ribs were slightly less obviously showing, and I couldn’t feel her spine quite as sharply as I rubbed her back. It was as if overnight years of malnutrition and barely surviving had started to be undone. She wasn’t a pitiful waif; she was now simply my loving diminutive firebrand pixie.

It was the start of a wondrous transformation, but I decided to withhold my observations from her for now. I was interested in her reaction if I waited a week to reveal the changes to her. She had made it painfully evident that, while she certainly wasn’t ashamed of her body, she hadn’t been proud of it before. I felt satisfied that I could give my mate something she could be proud of.

I must’ve returned to my human form at some point during the night because I was only holding Beth with my arms. I was in no rush to get started with the day, actually feeling somewhat anxious about interacting with Sam, so I simply laid in the bed and enjoyed the experience of Beth softly sleeping against me, the gentle rise and fall of her chest a timekeeper to balance the chaos of the outside world. The situation felt fitting and restful, and yet incomplete. I was initially confident that I would never tire of waking up with this woman in my arms, but someone began suggesting otherwise.

The beast in my mind, still lethargic and sated from last night’s activities, lazily suggested that the unfulfillment came from only having one of our mates with us. There were others very close that should be here with us. Beth was an excellent prime, but as a walking God, anyone we considered should be honored. I felt uncomfortable with the idea, unused to his immeasurable confidence and decidedly doubting that anyone would tolerate sharing me with another. He insisted that the truth would come before my eyes sooner than I would think, while returning to a lazy slumber.

My meandering thoughts and inner conflict once again roused Beth. She yawned and sluggishly opened her eyes, their sparkling green irises looking exceptionally bright in the morning light when they eventually located my face. I felt a rush of emotion come into focus over our connection, and I was overwhelmed by her adoration. I kissed her forehead, and the tide of her sympathies swelled even further, threatening to wash me away in an all-encompassing flood of affection.

Beth said softly, “I am so happy I met you.”

“I’m grateful that you feel that way. It wouldn’t be unreasonable for you to feel like a captive here.”

She lightly swatted my arm and spoke quietly but firmly, “Stop kicking yourself down. It’s too early for that shit. We need to get up and convince Sam that she should get over her fears and take you, and you can't do that while doubting yourself. Be the James that Sam sees.”

I slid off the bed, still cradling Beth in my arms, and she giggled as I set her on her feet. I stood up and found the sweatpants Cynthia had acquired for me yesterday, as they were the only pants that would fit now, even if ‘fit’ was tenuous. “I’m still unsure why you’re insistent that this is what you want. I believe you; I know you want this, but I don’t understand why.”

Beth grabbed my new sweatshirt from yesterday and wore it like a dress, although it almost slid off to one side or the other as it dwarfed her petite frame. While gathering her clothes from around the room, she answered, “I like Sam. I like Cynthia. I want them in our life. Sam being here hurts her right now. Being sent away without the chance to try would hurt her, too, probably more.”

Over our connection, I found a wealth of nuance that aided my comprehension of what she was saying, and it all made sense to me. Beth yearned for a real family she could trust unconditionally and relax around. In Sam, she had found an older sister who could guide her and lead her into this new world. In me, Beth found an older brother who would protect her from anything threatening her and care for her undyingly. In Cynthia, she had found a mother who would nurture her and let her learn to be an adult at her own pace.

Beth was terrified that Sam’s discontentment at being so close but unable to have me would eventually lead to the shattering of her newfound family. It could cause a rift to form, permanently separating Cynthia and Sam from Beth and me. She was desperately clinging to the idea that if Sam and I were romantically involved, then the bindings of our unique family would be unseverable.

I remained unconvinced that this wouldn’t simply explode in our faces, but I wasn’t sure that there was a clean way to resolve the situation. Sam had built me up in her mind to the stature of a deity. She had placed this idea of me on a pedestal and worshiped it in her mind when she couldn't have me, and then in the years we had separated, compared everyone she interacted with against that fictional idea. When they came up short, her perception of me only increased. I hoped I could live up to a tenth of what she thought of me.

Beth lightly tapped my arm and drew me out of my thoughts, “Stop doubting yourself and stop worrying about things you have no control over. You’re a dragon, James. Start acting like it. You know, city-destroying, all-powerful monster? Did Smaug have these insecurities?”

She skipped to the door, then looked back and said, “There were some girly clothes in one of the rooms in sizes for me. I’m grabbing them, and then you’re going to wash my hair in the shower again. Ten minutes. Don’t be late.”

I laughed softly to myself at her peppiness. Despite the conspicuous trauma she had experienced in her past, she still put on a brave face and was here, trying to make the best of it. She wasn’t wrong; I had stumbled upon something that gave me significant influence. I should try to use it to improve things as much as I can. The beast in my mind suggested that we start with making life great for ourselves before worrying about others. I chided the beast by pointing out that everything was already pretty great, at least as far as unplanned relocations and world-altering revalations could be.

I slowly made my way to the bathroom and turned the water on to allow it to warm up. When I climbed in a moment later, Beth had just entered the room and was setting her clothes on the floor and stripping off the sweater she had requisitioned from my room. Our shower was quiet and brief but no less refreshing. When I washed her hair, I massaged Beth’s scalp, and she melted against my chest and made adorable mewling appreciative moans.

When we finished, I dried myself quickly, slid the sweatpants on, and watched Beth put on the clothes she had selected. She slipped into a pair of black boyshort cut panties and added generic jean shorts over them. On each leg, she added a pink and white striped knee-high sock. A nondescript blue t-shirt completed her outfit. She looked casual and cute while unimposing, and I wondered if it was intentional. She wasn’t trying to get dolled up for our breakfast outing because she wasn’t trying to keep my eyes on her and stake her singular claim to me. After all, she wanted to share.

We made our way out of the bathroom and into the living area. Sam, Cynthia, and Evgenia sat around the dining table. The atmosphere changed significantly as Beth and I entered the room, and not particularly for the better.

Cynthia smiled at the two of us proudly, and she informed us that she had just finished making some coffee and that she was waiting for Beth so that they could start cooking breakfast together. She seemed altogether content that we were joining them this morning. I wished her enthusiasm was mirrored in the other two.

Sam blushed, and her eyes sank to the floor. She seemed to withdraw into her seat, trying to hide in the open and go invisible. She was embarrassed and uncomfortable and quickly excused herself as Beth and I approached. Sam placed her mug in the kitchen sink and left, presumably heading to the bathroom.

Evgenia gave the least predictable reaction. She visibly stiffened as I entered the room, and I could smell fear and apprehension from her. I had no idea why — I knew her position with our contract was uncomfortable, but I had hoped I hadn’t personally given her a reason to fear me. I quickly concluded that my position was untenable — I could not have someone who was supposed to be an advisor frozen in terror when I entered a room. I needed more information, but I wouldn’t be able to get it myself if she was going to hide from me.

As Beth and I sat at the table, I responded to Cynthia, “I don’t think that’s in the cards today. Beth hoped to talk to Sam this morning; perhaps the three of us could get brunch out before meeting with Antonin. What were you planning on for the rest of today?”

Predictably, Cynthia answered first, “I need to make an appearance at the local offices today to inform them of the change in my status. Wouldn’t want to be assigned anything else accidentally right now.”

Evgenia cautiously followed, “I also need to spend some time in the offices today. I need to connect with Aisling’s court to see what permits you need to remain within the city limits. Is there anything you would require me to do in your stead, James?”

“Could the two of you try to construct a list of ways I might use my newfound powers to help the community here? I don’t know what I’m capable of doing, what needs doing, or who would need help versus who would just want philanthropic labor. Aisling seemed to think that I would be a massive benefit, so I would like to start thinking about what I can do to contribute. As nice as it would be to spend every day simply lounging here with all of you, I should try to repay you for your help and earn my place fairly.”

Both women nodded and seemed to understand what I had inarticulately asked. The dragon in my mind was also content with the idea, for significantly different motives than mine. He cynically accepted my desire to do good for two main reasons. First, it would likely make us less reliant on Aisling and, therefore, less beholden to her whims. The second I found despicable. He was content with doing generous acts for the general community because it would likely make them less suspicious and more accepting of our sudden intrusion into their world. It was cute that I wanted to do benevolent things because it was ‘the right thing to do,’ but he accepted my desires because it had other benefits.

Evgenia excused herself, and Beth whispered that she would talk to Sam about going out.

I quietly asked, “Cynthia, can you talk to Evgenia today if you have any time?”

She pursed her lips and looked slightly confused at me, “What did you have in mind?”

“She is clearly bothered by me, or by being here, or something. Could you try to figure out if there’s anything I can do to make her more comfortable? I don’t think she’ll talk to me about it.”

“Hmm. I had noticed her tense when you and Beth entered, and she wasn’t particularly engaged at dinner. I figured we would give her a week to get accustomed to interacting with us before I started questioning it.”

I shook my head, “I don’t think it’s just that. She was fine with just you and Sam, but when I entered the room, it was like someone sucked the soul out of her. Just try to befriend her for me, please? Keep an extra eye open. I’m already regretting signing the paper.”

Beth came enthusiastically back into the kitchen and told us Sam was getting ready to go out to brunch. I wondered how exactly Beth had accomplished that so quickly, but since I hadn’t felt any intense spikes of emotion over our connection, I assumed it had been reasonably straightforward.

Sam cautiously meandered down the hallway a few minutes later, avoiding eye contact with Beth and me. She had agreed to go with us but clearly still felt uncomfortable with the entire idea. We left the apartment and caught a cab to a diner that Beth had found online. Evidently, she had also been given a laptop and used it to locate a highly-rated place near the courthouse.

Beth tried to talk to everyone during the ride, but neither Sam nor the driver responded to her feeble attempts. I was a bit anxious about the idea of convincing Sam to pursue me romantically and preoccupied with how Evgenia had responded to my presence this morning to engage in conversation. Eventually, Beth allowed us to sit silently as we made our way downtown. I paid for our ride and found my way inside, practically dragged by Beth to a wooden booth in one of the corners. Surprisingly, she sat across from me, and Sam joined her on the other side.

I was suddenly overwhelmed with grief when we sat down in the booth. I had never been one to particularly enjoy breakfast or going out to eat in general, and here I was, getting brunch for the second time in three days. In that regard, I was alone in my family, and my mother, sister, and aunt had made a habit of getting together to gossip over brunch at least once every six weeks. Occasionally, I would be dragged along, notionally against my will, to one of these gatherings. For the first time, it was sinking in that I would never be brought along again.

I wasn’t exactly missing the experience of going out to eat; I was confronting the irrevocable reality that I would never see them again. My mother would never ask when the next time I was coming home was. My sister would never call to ask to borrow $20 because Mom had already said no, but a new pair of shoes had gone on sale, and couldn’t I just help her out this one time? My dad and I would never talk about how our local sports team was underperforming again and how their physio team must be awful because everyone was injured.

My entire old life had disappeared overnight, and it was only now sinking in when I came to get breakfast again. I knew intellectually that I would never see them again, which made sense. In 50 years, either I would be dead from the ever-escalating chaos of being involved with the magical world, or I would be identical to how I am now. There was simply no feasible manner to have a long relationship with someone on the other side of the magical divide. I hadn’t consumed that information emotionally before.

I was drawn out of my thoughts when Sam told the waitress serving our table that we would need another few moments with the menu. I looked up and around, and Beth was staring back at me, her bright green eyes full of pain. A tear trickled from one of them down her face. I concluded that I fully shared my emotions with her and overwhelmed her with the sudden sense of loss that I had experienced with none of the context.

When the waitress had turned and left, Sam, looking rather upset herself, quietly said, “What the fuck happened? Are you two alright? Do we need to leave?”

Beth took a deep breath, and her voice cracked and wavered when she answered, “So, J and I kinda share emotions. I dunno what he was thinking about, but my god, it was like an ocean of sadness just came and sank me to the bottom of it where I would never see the sunlight again.”

I winced as I contemplated how uncomfortable it must’ve been to experience that without warning. I looked between the two girls, seeing a still troubled Beth and a surprisingly jealous-looking Sam, and apologized. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually do this sort of thing, going to brunch to talk, and it reminded me of my family. It just kind of hit me that I was here now. That I can’t go back.”

Both girls instinctively reached out to hold my hand to comfort me, and I greatly appreciated the motion. We sat melancholically until the waitress returned and took our orders. Once our food arrived, Beth turned to Sam and broke the spell of silence that had befallen our table.

“So, do you know what I wanted to talk about?”

Sam blushed bright red and started apologizing, “I’m so sorry, Beth. I knew you two were a thing, and I acted impulsively. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I don’t know why I did it.”

Beth reached out and took Sam’s hands into her own, “Sam, it’s perfectly okay. I’m not upset, and that’s not really what I wanted to talk about.”

Sam smelled of grief and regret and vehemently rejected Beth’s offer of forgiveness, “It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t fair to put J in that position, nor to have been so spiteful to him. It wasn’t right to make him have to explain it to you. I should’ve just stayed quiet and out of your room.”

Beth squeezed the other girl’s hand insistently and interrupted, softly consoling her, “Sweetie, you were incredibly upset and overwhelmed. Expecting you to be perfect then would have been completely unfair to you. Neither of us were offended by you. However, I want to be there the next time you kiss James.”

Beth paused, stalling just long enough for her words to sink in, and I felt my beast exude extreme satisfaction. It congratulated itself on how well we had selected our first mate since she was not only tolerating the idea of more but skillfully helping us convince another to join us. Sam scrunched her face up in bewilderment and was about to ask a question before Beth continued, “Now, that wasn’t really what I was interested in talking about. I don’t want to hear about how sorry you are and how it will never happen again because, as far as I’m concerned, you did nothing wrong. I hear enough regrets over victimless crimes from James' insecurities. I’d prefer not to have to convince you that you are a lovely girl who I want to be friends with again.

“I did want to talk to you about what led to last night. I know you talked to James about it a bit, but I would like to know just what made you so upset yesterday and how we can prevent it from happening again.”

Sam flushed while Beth spoke, and I caught hints of arousal and desire joining with her anxiety and contrition. Sam looked at Beth and me and stumbled as she gradually found her words.

“It was a bit of a shock, going to bother someone who had kept me up all night and getting all worked up and angry and bitchy, just to have James open his apartment door. I realized he was exactly what I was drawn to, and now that he had magic, I didn’t have to pretend anymore. Then I realized you were there and that you were trying to hold onto him for dear life over the rest of the day. Then he came and got me when you were in trouble that night, and it was just like he was showing off that he already had someone and didn’t need me. I know he didn’t mean that, but it was how my worked-up exhausted mind interpreted it. I just had, I don’t know, an extreme case of emotional whiplash from feeling so hopeful and then having life dash them again.”

Through my growing connection to Beth, I could feel she didn’t truly grasp what Sam was trying to explain. She had experienced the disappointment of being let down by things outside her control many times, but that was only half of what Sam described. Beth had never truly let herself become as hopeful as Sam had felt Saturday morning. By constantly tempering her expectations and consistently accurately predicting mediocrity as the high end of potential outcomes, she had never been destroyed when her hopes were crushed. It was impressive how resilient Beth had become until you realized she was in the unenviable position of having no other choice, the only alternative being crushed and left behind by the world. I didn’t want to demean her with pity, so I clamped down on my emotions to prevent them from leaking back and returned my focus to their conversation.

Beth hugged Sam, to which the redhead stiffened in response and said, “Gosh, Sam, I can’t imagine just how hard that must’ve been. How are you feeling today? Did talking with James last night help at all?”

The rosiness crept back into Sam’s features, and she spoke more assuredly, even if her cadence was cautious, “I’m okay today. Last night was good; letting my unfair anger fester would not have been productive. I really can’t complain, though, I’m in a wonderful city with old and new friends, and one of them has been making sure that everything I need is taken care of. I shouldn’t be troubling you with this.”

I was going to interject, but Beth took the words out of my mouth so well that I wondered if she was getting more than my emotions.

“Sam, don’t diminish your feelings just because things are good. You can be in just as much pain, even when you have food on the table and a roof over your head. If you’re ever upset like you were yesterday, please feel like you can come to talk to at least one of us.”

Sam nodded her reluctant acceptance, and Beth happily continued, “Great. Now, Sam, I have a favor to ask of you. Could you go with James today to his lessons with Antonin? You’re probably a better partner for magical instruction than I am, and I had some things I was hoping to get done.”

Sam haltingly answered, “I suppose that makes sense. Are you going to go there from here?”

I nodded, “That was my intention. I was going to order a coffee to go and then head over to the courthouse.”

The redhead pursed her lips as she thought it through, and then she nodded and said, “I guess I can do that. I didn’t really have anything else to do.”

Beth smiled gratefully before explaining what she would do, “Awesome, I owe you one. Now, I’m going to buy some simple clothes for the two of us while you’re there. I was hoping I could get your perspective on how we should dress James? What did he like to wear in school? What do you think he would look good in?”

I light-heartedly inserted myself, asking, “Do I get any input on this? Since I’m the one who’s going to be wearing it all, after all.” I knew the answer before I had even asked the question, but I couldn’t resist the pull to ask.

“Of course not; now hush and let your girl friends make better decisions than you would.” Beth dismissively responded to me and turned back to beg Sam for information. I could feel the smug satisfaction from Beth and knew that she had selected her words meticulously. Beth had said ‘girl friends’ so that we would all hear ‘girlfriends,’ but she had plausible deniability if Sam had questioned it. I perceived a level of embarrassment and bashfulness from Sam, but some eagerness joined her emotions as she continued listening to Beth.

“I’ll probably just get him basic things like shorts and hoodies for now. Who knows if he’ll grow again, and that would just ruin everything if I got nice things. Anyways, c’mon, spill. What do you think he would look nice in?”

I was incredibly impressed with how Beth handled the entire situation this morning. I hadn’t considered Beth particularly devious, but I realized that was precisely how she wanted me to see her. It was an incredibly deft maneuver to put Sam immediately on the back foot, knowing that her intense morality would require her to apologize and turn the conversation into comforting Sam instead, completely shattering any preconceptions Sam had. She knew that Sam would find the solace uncomfortable, but by doing so, she highlighted how Sam had been a victim of the situation, not a perpetrator.

Now she had Sam mixing memories of me with how she wanted to see me in the future, after she had notionally put forth being present when Sam kissed me again. I smiled and ate my food while the girls talked over which brands and styles they wanted to see me in. I almost wanted to call her manipulative, but she wasn’t being unscrupulous in getting Sam to open her mind to the possibility of having what she wanted.

Soon, our brunch was complete, and the two girls had finished their chattering about future plans to go shopping for clothes for all three of us. I paid for our brunch and collected my to-go cup of coffee for Antonin, and we departed. A couple of blocks later, Beth forcibly hugged Sam and then kissed me before skipping off in another direction towards a block of storefronts. Sam and I continued leisurely, making our way to the courthouse.

Sam took a deep breath and then looked at me and said, “James, Beth is a great girl, and I’m happy you two have each other, but after an hour with her, I need a break and some time to decompress.”

I laughed heartily and agreed, “Yeah, she’s got enough energy in her little frame to fill every room of our apartment. It’s coming to grow on me. Don’t worry, Antonin is quite dry and perfunctory, and you’ll miss our vivacious friend in a couple of hours. I appreciate you coming with me; Beth struggled with staying quiet and still yesterday. I don’t think the classroom is exactly her comfort zone. Antonin can be a bit brusque, and his blunt mannerisms combined with sitting still for several hours listening to him speak had Beth on edge.”

The two of us continued our relaxed conversation as we made our way to the courthouse. At several points, I felt Sam become anxious and falter in our discussion as the anxiety faded slightly. After the third time it had happened, I realized that she was attempting to build up the courage to say something to me. I had no desire to pressure her while we entered the building and made our way to the archives.

As we entered the library, Antonin was already at one of the tables, fiddling with some equipment and talking to a human. I brought him the now lukewarm coffee, set it down in front of him, and took a seat on the other side of the table. Sam cautiously followed me and sat next to me. I recognized some apprehension coming off of her, and when I saw her eyes focused on the equipment Antonin and the other man were manipulating, I realized she knew what it was.

Antonin seemed to conclude the portion of the discussion he was having, and he eyed me with a level of trepidation. The man beside him sat silently and waited in deference to the elderly elf, and Antonin spoke carefully but firmly.

“Drakeling, this isn’t the girl who is bound to you. Yet she reeks of your presence just as much. Who is she, and why is she here?”

“This is Samantha O’Brien. She’s the daughter of Cynthia O’Brien and was the one who discovered that I had awakened. Sam has been assisting her mother in acting as my handler, and they have been living in the apartment Aisling graciously allocated to me. She's joining me today because Beth and I felt she was more suited to participating in your instruction. Also, Beth felt that she would become a consistent interruption if she came and asked Sam to come in her stead.”

Antonin listened intensely and ran his hand over his chin as he contemplated my words. After a moment, he spoke, “You need to proceed carefully, drakeling. Try not to mix politics and pleasure. Bah, I am wasting my breath. You will take pleasure from anything you desire.” He waved his hand dismissively in the air before collecting himself and continuing.

“Girl, you are a witch, yes?”

Sam stumbled over her words, unused to the blunt demeanor of the elf. “I… Yes, sir. I’m a class D witch.”

“Speciality?”

“Empathy. Emotional resonance, sir.”

Antonin already knew her answer before she gave it and continued, “Good, you will be useful later. Today, drakeling, I will be giving you an explanation of the many different types of Beings you will inevitably encounter. After that, my peer Marcus shall give you a crash course in elementary enchanting. Then I will discuss the other duties you will be required to perform in the coming days.”

He took a sip of the coffee, closed his eyes, and swallowed hard before he began speaking.

“The population of sentient beings on Earth has recently eclipsed eight billion. The magical community contains immense power and influence, condensed into significantly fewer numbers. Including undocumented magicians and those who have rejected being a member of our community, the magically infused population numbers perhaps six hundred thousand worldwide.

“Those six hundred thousand are divided into six major categories based on the origins of their magical connection. The largest group is magically infused humans, like your plaything Samantha. While most are incredibly insubstantial individually, wizards and witches remain the most united major category. They remain largely connected to their human communities and are instrumental in gathering information and blending into human society. Around the world, there are perhaps two hundred and fifty thousand wizards.”

Sam bristled at how she was referenced, and I could smell her resentment growing. Still, she did not attempt to interrupt or correct the elf, graciously allowing the insult to pass. There was nothing to gain by interjecting and asserting that she was a friend and companion, not a plaything. It seemed to me that the elf had inserted the barbed comment intentionally to gauge the newcomer to his archive and understand my relationship with Sam.

The beast in my head was insulted that this pencil-necked dried-up bookkeeper would dare to accuse one of our mates of being a meaningless plaything. It took all my willpower to clench my jaw tightly shut and forcefully remind my dragon soul of two things. First, we were one of those “pencil-necked” scholarly types last week, and it would be exceptionally hypocritical of us to abuse him for being one. More importantly, Sam wasn’t one of our mates, and it was incredibly narcissistic to regard her as one. I immediately felt his snarky response, confident that she was already ours, even if neither of us acknowledged that reality. I grumbled silently about his warped view of our relationship as Antonin pressed on, reminding him that, in my eyes, he viewed Sam as naught more than a plaything as well.

“The next largest conglomerate are the Demi-Humans, at around one hundred and sixty thousand. The demi-humans are not a well-united community. There is significant discord and infighting between Elves, Dwarves, Orcs, and so on, as they self-segregate socially and politically. All of the Demi-Humans have altered life spans from humans, many significantly so, but we are mortal. Elves live the longest, a millennium barring illness or injury, and this sustained time inclines us towards monotonous scholarly pursuits. Only Goblins do not have a significantly extended lifespan, but even they typically survive to one hundred and twenty or so. Demi-humans are uncommonly born into existence from couplings of two magically inclined beings. My father was a drow like I am, but my mother was a witch. Two wizards can have a demi-human as offspring, but this is extraordinarily rare.”

He paused for a moment, eying Sam cautiously, then continued, “Demi-Humans and Wizards have some limitations in terms of magical proficiency. Like scholars of your modern world, we specialize in a single area of magical pursuit, although our natural talents tend to follow bloodlines; children usually have the same or adjacent areas of intuition as their parents. While not completely locked out of other magical uses, the further we stray from our field, the more challenging, less efficient, and less precise our actions become. I am an illusionist. Understanding how the mind works, how different senses perceive the world, and how to guide them to experience what I want them to is my skill set. Samantha can share in your emotions, understanding how you feel. Her mother is an empath of great renown, capable of altering and soothing extreme emotions in those around her, seemingly able to consume the excesses of emotion in particularly troubled individuals.

“The third most significant community is the werecreatures. They number some hundred thousand or thereabouts and are relatively well united. A slight schism exists between the predator and prey species, but overall they work as one group. These are humans who have the soul of another mammal blended into them. They are the most physically inclined of the highly numerous species. Depending on the animal and the intensity of their bond, their lifespan can differ from a human’s, and their impulses and tendencies can intensely reflect their bond. An extremely bound wolf might reach physical maturity by 10, midlife by 25, and seniority by 35. A loosely bound were would have a similar aging curve to a human. As a guideline, imagine finding the midpoint between a human and their source animal to predict the path of a tightly bound werecreature. Weres, as a rule, have exceptionally limited magical ability besides that from their animal soul. Many have no talent to speak of.

“The fourth collection is incredibly fragmented and frankly largely detached from human society entirely. The undead have all, in one way or another, rejected death through magical means. Many of these means are quite distasteful, and a significant number of the current undead had no choice in the matter and will be quite offended if you question it. There are perhaps sixty thousand between the vampires, ghosts, banshees, ghouls, zombies, and small numbers of others. While humanoids have the ability to pursue powers outside their specialties, even if it isn’t likely to be particularly fruitful, undead do not. They have the associated talents of their variation and cannot achieve anything more.”

Antonin paused for a moment to have another sip of his coffee, and then he continued, his monochromatic grey eyes boring into me. “I need to impress upon you, Drakeling, that the undead, as a rule, have traumatic backgrounds and inhuman mannerisms. Vampires are only created when another Vampire forces their pathogenic parasite onto an unwitting human female. All vampires are female — when the pathogen interacts with a male, it corrupts them significantly more and creates a Ghoul. Ghosts come from many sources, but primarily when a magical human has their soul split from their body just as they perish. Zombies are particularly uncouth and primarily come from potent curses that deny the victim from dying — even when their bodies rot around them. The undead have the most side effects from their magical connection, and many had no consent in their creation. Be cautious and courteous around them.

“The final populous category are the spirits. These are beings with an intense elemental or natural source, yet are varied overall. There are perhaps sixteen thousand of them. The majority of their population comes from the small spirits, the Pixies, Faeries, Sprites, and Implings. Satyrs, Centaurs, Dryads and Naiads, Treants, and Nymphs comprise much of the remainder. There are many Eastern spirits that I am not very familiar with, from the lands of Japan, China, Korea, India, Thailand, and so on. The majority of spirits are individualistic and bound to their territory, and as such, they do not represent a united community. They aren’t as conflicted as the Demi-Humans or the werecreatures — they are simply disinclined to deal with issues outside their homelands.

“Those are all groups with sizable populations throughout the world. The final collection is more of a catchall conglomerate for unique beings; Mythics. You, drakeling, fall into this last category, along with the Arachnae, the Slimes, the Djinni, the Sphinxes, and Phoenixes. Calling you a community would be completely disingenuous. Even if there were enough of you in any one place to present a meaningful population, you would immediately disagree and quarrel with each other over your immense differences. There are perhaps a thousand of you worldwide. Of course, you are the sixth dragon in a world that thinks there are only five dragons, which presents unique problems.

“As a dragon, you are special even among the community of uncategorizable beings because you and you alone are capable of bending magic to your will. While the humanoids can do anything in theory, it is foolish and wasteful for them to attempt undertakings outside their area of expertise. Werecreatures are similarly ill equipped for explorative magical processes. Spirits and Undead and the other Mythics have powers unique to their physiology, gifts that humanoids are unable to replicate but limitations that prevent their dominance as well. The gift of the dragons is unparalleled control over magic. I am unsure, after meeting you, if it is simply because the unequaled volume of energy you contain allows you to overcome inefficiencies all together or if you truly have affinity for every type of mana manipulation, but I intend to find out while working with you.

“Keep that in mind, drakeling. You are unique even in our world of wonder and mysteries. Some will not believe you, and some will fear you without knowing you. Be wary of those who appear to be your friends.”

I could feel Sam’s animosity building again, and I put a hand on her thigh to comfort her. She slipped her hand into mine and squeezed it, reminding me of how I was sitting in the same spot with another girl exactly a day ago. Given how intimate I had grown with Beth, I was surprised at just how comfortable I was sitting with Sam at my side. Their differences were incredibly complimentary; Beth’s impulsiveness and fiery determination would be tempered nicely by Sam’s precise and cautious adherence to integrity. The dragon exuded vainglorious satisfaction, insisting that he had picked our mates so that they would improve and balance each other and keep us well comforted and advised.

Antonin stood and spoke more reservedly than his thinly veiled probes of Sam had been. “Now, I have to excuse myself for a few minutes. Marcus here shall give you a superficial introduction into magical enchanting, and hopefully, you will have concluded by the time I return.” With that, he shakily made his way to the door, and the other man who had sat quietly through the lecture spoke for the first time.

“Hello, I’m Marcus Davies. It’s quite an honor to have the opportunity to instruct you.”

The unremarkable man was quite nervous, but eventually, he meandered his way into getting my background and Sam’s experience with enchanting. Of course, Sam was incredibly embarrassed to reveal that she had almost none because she had virtually no bandwidth for channeling the requisite magical energies, her barely usable magic exclusively tailored for emotional interactions. Marcus was particularly apologetic and accommodating, a sharp contrast to dealing with Antonin, and he was thoroughly delicate with his instructions.

He instructed Sam and me in the ways of gathering the ambient arcane energies and tried to tailor the instructions to us individually. Our goal for this lesson was to inscribe our names on a piece of metal in glowing arcane runes — which proved to be quite challenging. Sam struggled significantly with containing and utilizing any energy she gathered. After half an hour of toiling, she was distraught with shame at her shortcomings. Sam only managed to get half of the upper arc of her S. Her insecurities were not mitigated by the knowledge that I struggled just as much. Sam was incredibly uncomfortable with being forced to try to do something that she felt incapable of completing, given no way out from baring her failures to me directly.

I was having no more luck than Sam, and in fact, my progress was probably worse. I had no issue gathering the energy as Marcus described, but my first attempt to inscribe any words on a test piece of metal incinerated the spot where I had made contact and scorched the entire sheet. My subsequent attempts showed a glacial amount of progress — I was no longer destroying the whole sheet after half an hour, merely burning large swathes near where I was trying to form my connection without leaving anything resembling writing. What a mess.

After a while of instructing two struggling novices, Marcus relented and gave the two of us some space to continue without pressuring us. I sat back and relaxed and watched Sam as she chewed on her lower lip and furrowed her brow in intense focus. After a moment of struggle, she swore under her breath and sank back into her chair, a minute extension to the curve of the S added onto the metal sheet that would’ve been easy to miss if I hadn’t been intently observing her.

“Fucking hell, J. This is so embarrassing. I’m supposed to help you understand magic; all I’ve done today is show just how incompetent and limited I am.”

I laughed softly and pointed out my own failings. “Sam, you have half a letter perfectly inscribed, and I have a pile of ashes. I think Marcus left us alone so that he could write up an invoice for all of the supplies I’m destroying.”

She laughed politely at my self-deprecating joke and said, “Do you think there’s something we’re missing? Is there a secret we were supposed to figure out for ourselves?”

I thought about it for a moment and had a brilliant fragment of inspiration. The dragon in my mind was disappointed that it had taken me so long but understood that I was led away from the obvious solution.

I answered Sam confidently, “I don’t think so. Marcus reminds me of an adjunct professor, scared that any poor review could tank his entire career before he gets a full-time position. If this were some kind of puzzle, he would’ve shared the answer by now simply in an attempt to placate me.”

I paused, and Sam nodded in agreement. “However, I think there is an obvious solution to our struggles here. Let me gather and hold all of the energy, and then you take the tiny amounts you need to write both of our names from me directly. Can we do that?”

Sam’s eyes shot open, and she asked the most Sam-esque question I could’ve imagined, “Yeah, that’s possible. Wouldn’t that be cheating, though? Aren’t we supposed to finish this ourselves to learn about the enchanting process?”

I suspected that Antonin designed this activity to teach me an entirely different lesson, but I didn’t want to share my musings with Sam just yet.

“I don’t think so. Marcus just told us to get our names onto the metal, right? He didn’t say we couldn’t work together or that we had to complete it ourselves. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? They aren’t going to throw us out of school for plagiarism or anything like that.”

After a moment of turmoil clearly written on her face, she acquiesced. “Alright, James. Just, be really careful, alright? I’ll take what I need. If you try to push into me, you could seriously hurt me. Collect it, and hold it firmly. Please be conservative with how much you give me. This could be bad if something goes wrong.”

“Sam, I would never try to hurt you. I promise to only gather the energy and open myself to you and nothing more. You can take what you need.”

Sam slid right next to me and tenderly grasped my hand. She looked nervous, and I could smell her anxiety, but I was unsure if it was because we were breaking the assignment rules or because of the potential risk of what we were doing. I closed my eyes and breathed in, reaching out to collect the arcane energy surrounding us.

When I had collected what I could gather comfortably, I reached out mentally and found Sam’s reflection. She petitioned for permission to access my reserves, and I gladly gave her what she wanted. I opened the gate to my metaphorical pasture just a crack, and Sam gasped in her seat next to me, a momentary flash of absolute horror passing through her. I heard her inhale sharply, and her hand clamped down brutally on mine. It faded quickly, replaced by awe and disbelief, a shiver passing over her body.

She whispered, “Holy fuck,” before I felt the tiniest amount of energy depart. It felt like she had taken a spoonful of cement away from the concrete jungle of a metropolis. If I hadn’t been intensely monitoring the transfer to observe what she was attempting, I probably wouldn’t have even recognized that she was borrowing from me. At the rate she drew from me, it would take her years to use an amount I had collected with an absentminded deep breath.

With my eyes closed, I could feel her begin perfectly engraving our names into the metal plate. Over the next few minutes, she carefully and precisely imbued each letter, returning to me several times for another raindrop of energy from my veritable ocean. The experience was surprisingly intimate with how connected we were, and I could smell Sam growing aroused as a result.

When Sam had almost completed both of our names, I allowed the gate to creep open a little more to sate my growing curiosity. She exhaled violently and gripped my hand fiercely but quaked in her seat instead of finishing the enchanting. She whimpered achingly; I would’ve been certain she was in immense pain if I couldn't smell her emotions. Moments later, she shuddered and let out a gasp, breathing rigorously.

She slowly relaxed her death grip on my hand and wrapped up composing our names on the metal. She withdrew her connection to my energy stores a moment later, and I opened my eyes.

Before me was the most impressively pristine piece of scrap metal I had ever seen. Written in an impeccably beautiful script, “Samantha + James” adorned the sheet of metal, ensconced inside a heart. When I looked at Sam to congratulate her on how well we had collaborated, she blushed furiously and refused to meet my eyes.

“Sorry, I just got caught up in the moment. Just how intense our connection was. I’m sorry. It was really presumptuous of me to do it like that. It’s not fair to —”

I cut her off before she continued apologizing by hugging her powerfully. “Sam, it’s perfect. I couldn’t have done it better myself. I think we should bring it home with us.”

She met my eyes and quietly asked, “You don’t think Beth will take it the wrong way?”

“I think Beth will take it perfectly.” Beth wanted Sam to become romantically involved after all.

Sam nodded and surprised me by returning her hand to mine. Her grip was compassionate and gentle this time, and I could smell the fulfillment and pride emanating from Sam as we sat quietly, reveling in our accomplishments. After reviewing her handiwork, she turned in the seat to lean her back against me and pulled the hand I was holding around her side. She closed her eyes and relaxed, softly exhaling in contentment.

I did feel slightly guilty at the moment, as while I was aware that Beth had intended for Sam and me to bond over my magical lessons, I wasn’t sure anyone would have been able to predict just how much we had. My only assurance was that Beth had insisted upon it, and I found myself hoping that she would never come to regret encouraging Sam and me to reconnect.

We waited patiently for several minutes, content to rest with our assigned task completed. Antonin indelicately returned to the library, allowing the door to slam behind him with his hands full of papers. Hearing this disturbance, Marcus scrambled to come to check on us and was astounded to find that we had actually completed the assignment. Evidently, our early struggles convinced him that it would be an unproductive lesson. Or, perhaps…

Antonin gracelessly joined us at the table and observed the single plate with a combined inscription. He looked at me with a level of surprise and pride and said, “So, Drakeling. You managed to complete the task. Tell me how you did this.”

He watched me closely as I described sharing the arcane resources with Sam and allowing her to do the actual enchanting.

“That is clever drakeling. Incredibly arrogant and reckless, placing your companion in extreme danger, but clever nonetheless. I had intended to have you fail this entirely. It isn’t important if you know how to enchant at all. I think you understand this as well. What do you think the real lesson of today was?”

I swallowed hard, feeling appropriately rebuked for my unsafe behavior, and answered, “I think you wanted to remind me that I have limitations and weaknesses. Everyone else is deferential and terrified of offending me, but as my teacher, you need to keep me grounded enough so that I can assess my abilities accurately.”

“Well put, drakeling. Precisely. I wanted you to struggle today, and you did. You learned that there are things you cannot do, at least not alone. I hope your eventual success doesn’t diminish this for you. Thank you, Marcus, for your instruction today.” With the dismissal, the nervous man bowed slightly, thanked Antonin for the opportunity, and exited the library. He seemed content to be excused, not even displaying annoyance at having to teach an impossible lesson unknowingly.

As the door shut, Antonin shifted two papers across the table to me. One had a printed QR code and a list of things, with my name hastily written in pen at the top. The other was a formal invitation to the Eastern American Magical Society, requesting an official appearance at Aisling’s open court. Both sheets had tomorrow’s date. My previously vacant day seemingly now included a public appearance and some other engagement.

I looked over the list on the first piece of paper and eventually pieced together that it was a list of recommended exercise equipment. After giving me a moment to look at the documents, Antonin spoke and explained.

“You need to make an official appearance so that unbidden rumors of your arrival do not spread. Aisling won’t be publicizing that you are a dragon but will instead provide an invitation as if you are a foreign dignitary of some importance. It will keep those casually interacting with you from accidentally spreading unwieldy information. If they see what they expect, just another diplomat, you will have more time to carve your own path.

“The second is a code to allow you into our security forces exercise facility. It’s on Walnut, between 15th and 16th streets. Tomorrow, you will appear at the court and, afterward, meet with one of our security officers to begin your physical development and acclimation. Those were the requested supplies from Sergeant Lyon. You don’t need them for tomorrow, but you probably will by Thursday.

“We will meet again Wednesday. I would encourage you to bring Samantha to our lessons. I imagine she will be suitable and conducive to your instructions. A better fit than the shielded girl, certainly.”

I nodded, agreeing that Sam was better suited for his lecture environment than Beth would ever be. Sensing that our time was drawing close, I probed the elder for answers to Beth’s curiosity.

“Antonin, do you know anything more about the non-lethal bite I have? Beth was intrigued at the potential, but I wouldn’t want to permanently inflict something like that upon her.”

His stern grey eyes focused on my face briefly before he shook his head. “I’ve told you all I know, drakeling, and much of it was hearsay. If you desire it, I am confident we could locate many volunteers willing to undertake the risk for a chance at the experience. Assuming you'd follow through with the rest.”

I felt my stomach turn at the thought of damning someone to a lifetime of purgatory simply to understand my body more. I must have cringed because Antonin nodded in agreement with my reaction.

“Indeed, drakeling, the potential for unpleasantries is significant. You may need to come to terms with that rather quickly. I appreciate your benign naivete, but there will be many distasteful events in your future. It is wonderful that you confound your forebearers and insist on cautious benevolence, but there are times when… What is it the humans say? You will need to break the eggs to make the omelet. Should you pursue this on your own and discover something reliable, I request that you share it with me, but I have little in regard to specifics for you.”

I collected the papers in my free hand and nodded my understanding to Antonin. Sam grasped the piece of metal with our names on it and clutched it to her chest.

“Then be off with you, Drakeling. You performed satisfactorily today. I need to clean up your struggles and discuss things with Marcus.”

With our presence no longer required, Sam and I walked out of the library and out of the courthouse. Back on the street and out of hearing of anyone from the courthouse, Sam leaned into me as she had when she finished engraving. She spoke softly, trying to diffuse her criticism with her gentle demeanor, while she fiddled with her phone and ordered us a ride.

“I think he’s a good teacher and will help you immensely.” She paused, trying to find an eloquent way to continue what she wanted to say. “I don’t like him. He was quite rude to me, and Marcus was terrified of him.”

I nodded, understanding where she was coming from. “I can see why you feel that way.”

She sharpened her eyes onto mine and challenged me, “You don’t agree with me.”

I sighed, “Not exactly. I don’t disagree with you, but more important things were at play. Antonin intentionally antagonized you to see how I would react. I believe he was trying to decipher our relationship and if I would need guidance on handling insults directed at my friends. As an advisor to Aisling, Antonin needs to evaluate me in every way possible, so he needed to know if I would be liable to experience an emotional outburst the first time someone insulted you or Beth or Cynthia in public. He was blunt and terse yesterday, but not provocative like that, so I can only imagine there was a reason. Given the circumstances, it makes sense to prod me via you to see how I will react. It wouldn’t do well if I burned the city down tomorrow because someone said Beth dressed like a slut.

“I also don’t know if Marcus was terrified of Antonin, or if he was terrified of me, or if he was terrified at the ramifications of having to teach two largely incompetent students how to do something at the behest of the greatest scholarly influence in town. How would it look if you were given the greatest job in your field and immediately tasked with something impossible to accomplish? Probably nervous and incredibly stressed, I would imagine. Even if he wasn't told up front that we would fail, he knew what he was doing. One look at our first attempts, and it would be plain to him. The prospect of failing to teach something so basic to someone as important as I'm lauded to be would've hung like a guillotine over his head. But, I think Antonin knew that and actually expected him to fail to teach us. Given that enchanting is his natural gift and would’ve been the gift of any of his prior students, he probably wasn’t used to having people struggle as much as we did. The beginning stages will have come easy to him and his students in the past. Antonin wanted me to experience failure, so he gave me a teacher that wouldn’t have experienced teaching anything but the first step on the checklist, never having needed any other lesson materials before.”

Sam let my words settle in her mind and ultimately concluded, “I stand by my feelings. He’s a good teacher, but I don’t like him. It wasn’t right to attack me like that, even if it had a purpose.”

I wasn’t interested in arguing with her about it. Ultimately, I was unsure if I liked him or not as well. I shrugged, “It wasn’t pleasant, but he got his information quickly and efficiently. Enough of that, though; let’s talk about how great you were at enchanting. I can’t believe how regal our names look on a scrap piece of sheet metal.”

Sam blushed immensely, and she responded, “J, my god. I knew you had a lot of energy in you. You kept me up for all of Friday night by illuminating the entire city with your warding of Beth. You charged my crystals by casually holding onto them for half an hour.” She turned to face me and wrapped her arms around my neck, stretching onto her toes to look fervently into my eyes. “But holy shit. Being linked with you like that puts it into perspective. You could’ve flooded and destroyed me like a billion times over, and that was the amount of energy you grasped in a moment to lend to me. I might be the weakest mage in the city, but if you averaged the two of us, we’d still be top 10 in the country.”

She paused momentarily, and the gleam in her eyes shifted to borderline fanatical adoration. “James, you’re practically a god compared to the rest of us. You collected an amount of energy beyond anything I’ve ever conceived of and held it unflinchingly for at least fifteen minutes. There’s no wonder you burned your plates — holding onto one of them and exhaling would have overloaded them. I was terrified when you first opened yourself to me. I thought I was dead, that you had fucked up and overloaded me, and I was about to melt down in the middle of the library. When I didn’t die, I realized it was you, holding a planet-sized amount of mana at bay for me to come and take. Terrifying and awesome.”

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her against my chest. I felt her whimper and shiver again and inclined my head so that I could whisper into her ear. “Sam, I told you I would be meticulous and wouldn’t hurt you. I’m not inclined to break my promises, particularly those to beautiful women and especially those to my closest friends. I will need you to tone back your hero worship a bit; You sound like a giddy schoolgirl who just saw her favorite pop star in concert for the first time. I’m still just the James you grew up with, the guy you went to school with.”

She shook her head into my chest, “Nope. I was already a fan of the boy I went to school with, and I just found out he’s the most powerful man in the world.”

She slowly disentangled from my hug, and we waited quietly for the next minute until the ride she had requested arrived. We remained quiet on our way back to the apartment, with the only words spoken thanking the driver for his services.

Opening the door to the apartment, the enticing smell of something cooking immediately greeted me. Cynthia and Beth chatted over a wok on the stove while Evgenia sat at the dining table. The peanut aroma and visible noodles let me guess what they had been making.

Beth flew like a shot out of a rifle over to us before Sam was even through the doorway, hugging me and then hugging Sam. Cynthia gracefully took over the final cooking duties, allowing her protegee to leave. Unfortunately, Evgenia stiffened again in reaction to my presence. Her obvious discomfort made me feel guilty. Would releasing her be the right thing to do? How was I even supposed to find out? Every question I asked would come with the asterisk of implied authority, as if I was a police interrogator looking to catch her in a lie.

Sam accepted Beth’s hug and then went to join her mother. Beth pulled me further into the apartment to our bedroom. The inside was covered in a dozen bags from various shopping outlets. My initial reaction was to cringe in apprehension at how much this had cost. Eventually, my mind caught up to reality, and I remembered that, for some insane reason, everyone was fawning over me in a rush to offer tribute. This had cost me personally nothing. The dragon soul encouraged me to think further than that — these were offerings to a king, but a morsel of a glorious tithe that was owed to me. I shuddered at the sour taste that was left in my mouth, especially at how soon it had come from my interaction with Ev.

“So, I only got you basic things, like I said I would. Tank tops, shorts, hoodies, and sweatpants, mostly. Things where being a little off-sized isn’t a big deal, so if you do that crazy growing half-a-foot act again, we can at least have a few days of clothes for you. Those two bags are yours.”

“And the other fifty bags?”

Beth blushed and lowered her eyes to the floor, “I’m sorry, maybe I went a touch overboard. I just didn’t have anything of mine here. The clothes that were in the closet already were nice and would’ve fit — but I felt like I was wearing someone else’s clothes, and I’ve done that enough for a lifetime if I have a choice. I should’ve asked you first. I must’ve gotten caught up in the moment; I didn’t realize how much I actually bought until I was carrying them all here.”

I kissed her to stop her tirade of apologies. I hadn’t intended to chastise, merely questioning why there were so many bags here if only a couple of them were mine. She had replaced her entire wardrobe and brought it to our room. Asking first would’ve been nice, but in reality, I would have suggested that she do this anyway had I known how she felt. She had been uprooted, moved across the country without any belongings, and forcibly tied to a man she had never met before. Allowing her to spend someone else’s money for which I had no current use was of little consequence. I had noticed that the vast majority of the bags contained utilitarian purchases; plenty of plain socks and packs of underwear, several pairs of jeans, a couple pairs of shorts, tank tops, t-shirts, and two hoodies. There was nothing extravagant, nothing that shouted teenage girl splurging on a shopping spree to me. Sure, there were a lot of bags, but it was all fundamental clothes and everyday brands. On top of that, perhaps two-thirds of the things I saw had some kind of sale or clearance sticker, indicating Beth's effort to limit the financial cost.

The dragon suggested reprimanding her further for not recognizing our dominance. I was starting to get a handle on how he thought, so I decided to attempt to persuade him in a way that he understood. Allowing Beth this comfort would make her grow further attached to us, and if she was content with being our first and actively encouraging us to seek out another mate, that was how we wanted her. Admonishing her for overusing our finances, some of which she was entitled to when we uprooted her, to establish her sense of belonging was antithetical to our goals. We wanted her to look marvelous anyway so that others could see how we cared for our mates. I concluded by pointing out that he had intentionally selected her as our first because she was spirited and decisive. Undermining her over those qualities now brought everything he had done so far into question.

Begrudgingly, he tolerated my answers, so I turned my attention back to Beth.

“I completely understand. I just wanted to ask why there were so many bags here if only a couple were for me. I have no issues with you shopping for yourself.”

She relaxed, sat on the edge of the bed, and said, “Alright, I was kinda nervous you’d be upset about that. I know I went overboard, and I was really afraid you’d be mad. But, if you’re really not, I have some other stuff to ask. Can we talk before going out to dinner? Did Antonin know any more about your bites? How was the lecture with Sam? He said you’d have some training last time; What did you do today?”

She spat the questions out rapidly, giving me no space to answer between them until she finished.

“He knew nothing more regarding the bites but was confident we could find volunteers to experiment on. That wasn’t an appealing solution to me, and we left the discussion there. The lecture with Sam was interesting. I learned a significant amount about the world we’ve joined, but Antonin continuously made barbed comments at Sam’s expense. There was a reason for that: I have to make a public appearance tomorrow, and I believe he was testing how I would react to negative comments. He then had us observe another man to learn how to manipulate magical energy into a material object. After watching and listening to his instructions, we tried writing our names on some metal. Very unglamorous, but effective for the real lesson I was there for: I was simply unable to do it alone. Eventually, Sam and I worked together to get it done, you can see the little plaque she made later, but Antonin's point was that despite being treated like an omnipotent deity, I still have limitations and failings.”

Beth listened to my explanation before nodding uncharacteristically sagely and pronouncing, “It’s good that I told her to go. I wouldn’t have been able to help you at all, and you got to connect with her over this.”

I laughed softly at the absurdity of her faux-wisdom before asking, “What did you make for dinner with Cynthia? It smelled incredible when I came in.”

“She picked up things for chicken pad thai on her way home from the office. She insisted that you would like it.”

Interesting. Pad Thai was one of my favorite dishes, but I hadn’t talked to Beth or Cynthia about that. The only logical way Cynthia would have any certainty that I would enjoy it was if I had mentioned it to Sam at one point in passing, and she had shared it with Cynthia. That was absurd, though. I hadn’t seen either of them in years, and it’s not like I had ever had a serious discussion about food with them. There was no way she had remembered something like that, right?

Either way, I answered Beth, “It sounds great, and I’m hungry after failing to engrave my name for what felt like hours. If it’s anywhere near as good as what you made last night, it’ll be the second-best thing I’ve ever had. We can put this all away later.”

She positively beamed in response to my praise, and I could feel the pride and satisfaction pouring through our connection. I was astonished to find that I could catch hints of actual thoughts over the link. They were distorted and imprecise; much like scanning past the correct frequency on a radio, I got a trace of them before losing them in the vast abyss.

Beth and I returned to the living room, where Sam was showing off the sheet of metal we had produced earlier to Cynthia. Beth bounced over to get a look herself. Both Sam and Cynthia tensed, and I could taste some of their apprehension over Beth’s reaction. Sam turned and began apologizing, but Beth interrupted and reminded her about our morning discussion.

With the situation successfully diffused, Cynthia told the three of us to sit while she went to the stove, serving plates of food.

Cynthia promptly delivered the plates to the four of us already seated and joined us with her own. The mealtime conversation was largely Sam gushing over how incredible it had been to experience enchanting. The reverence she exuded began to make me uncomfortable. Everything she said about our lecture was framed to elevate my contributions while downplaying her own. It was apparent that, in her mind, I was the only reason we had accomplished the task. She completely glossed over how she had made any progress before we collaborated or how I was utterly unable to inscribe anything.

What was more intriguing was how Cynthia acted like this was completely expected. If Cynthia was wholly unfazed by her daughter’s reaction to being around me, this must not be far from ordinary. I wondered just how hard it had been for Sam in the past if this was how she had wanted to act. It was hard to combine Sam's effusive, nearly worshipful behavior with my memories of the indifferent, withdrawn, cool girl I had known. It gave me a question to ask the next time I talked to Antonin.

As we ate, I made a conscious effort to commend Beth and Cynthia for the delectable meal they had created. Cynthia joined my endeavor, attributing much of the meal’s qualities to Beth. I could feel how much the words meant to her over our bond. She tried to minimize her contributions, but I could feel how undeniably honored she was to have received praise.

When the meal neared an end, I spoke up, intending to break the news of my appointments.

“I learned two things while with Antonin today. I’m required to make an appearance at Aisling’s court for her to publicly announce that I’m here. Antonin said she won’t be sharing details and will be acting as if I’m a temporary foreign dignitary. After that, I have to meet with one of their security officers to have some kind of physical exam and training evaluation.”

Surprisingly, Evgenia said, “I was told about the court appearance. Aisling asked me to arrange for you to be there around 10:30. That doesn’t give us much time to get you dressed for it.”

Beth leaked some confusion over our bond and asked, “That’s not very early in the morning. Why do you think there’s not enough time?”

Cynthia fielded the question, responding, “If James is being revealed as a dignitary, he is expected to appear as one. He doesn’t have anything formal or extravagant enough to wear, and we lack an appointment with anyone to resolve that issue.”

Evgenia reasserted herself, “Actually, we do. I have an acquaintance who operates a clothes store in the city. I had Aisling’s office request an appointment for 8:00. We should try to be there a few minutes early, but she should be able to handle garments for everyone.”

I relaxed into my seat, “That’s wonderful. Thank you so much for your preemptive actions. That will certainly make tomorrow easier. I wasn’t even told there was a dress code.”

Evgenia responded, “Well, there isn’t an actual code. If the goal is to make you look like a representative from afar, you should dress like one would.”

I nodded, “That makes sense. I might need to acquire exercise clothes and will need some other equipment for working with the security officer. That doesn’t need to happen today or tomorrow, though. I’ll know more tomorrow after my meeting, and what Beth picked out for me today will be fine to wear. Evgenia, Cynthia, do you know any more about this appearance I have to make? I was pretty much just told to show up.”

Cynthia apologized, “Sorry, I’m afraid I cannot be of more assistance. I’ve been fairly well removed from the political process here.”

Evgenia said she knew more about it, as she had gone through a similar process when she came to the region. She explained that the open court sessions were much like attending a church mass blended with a town hall meeting. Everyone of consequence would appear, and there was a lot of time spent gossipping and meandering with the other attendees. The leaders of the houses acted as representatives and advisors to the Seat, and the majority of them would attend. The ‘open’ part of the open court allowed Aisling to handle any allegations or conflicts that the public wished her to mediate.

She described her experience and how two farmers argued over livestock grazing on another’s property. At the end of every session, Aisling would announce the next session’s time and give any announcements or proclamations that she needed to. That was when we needed to be there, as she would introduce me as a visiting representative and request my loyalty while in the territory. Our verbal agreement was non-binding and largely performative but still valuable for demonstrating our deference if nothing else.

Evgenia quickly ran out of practical tidbits to offer and returned to her previous strained state. I found that curious. While talking, she seemed to relax somewhat, but as soon as she was done contributing, she iced over and appeared distressed. I really hoped I could get to the bottom of that soon, but I was at a loss for how to approach the conversation.

With our conversation petering out, Cynthia collected the soiled dishes and began to wash them. Since we had to get up relatively early to get to our appointment, and I had no other plans for the evening, I returned to my bedroom. Beth followed me, and we put away the clothes she had purchased together. True to her word, the things she had bought for me were generic casual garments. They might work for the exercise training course I had been volunteered to undertake.

I quietly got ready for bed and laid down afterward. Sam was watching television quietly in the living room, but everyone else appeared to have retired to their bedrooms. Beth curled up into my arms, pressing herself firmly against me. In contrast to the previous nights, it was gentle and intimate. As we drifted off to sleep, she whispered to me.

“I love you, James.”

I felt horrible that I wasn’t comfortable yet saying it back.