My heart stopped, I couldn't breathe. I stood there staring at Samil blankly praying in my mind that he would fast deny his own words. If the woman looking at me right now was his current secretary, did it mean that I…“Am I… fired?” I mumbled petrified.“Of course not,” Samil smirked, “I thought that you should have more time to handle the production details and focus on the marketing project. Emma will take your place, and you will have your own office and new position. Take it as a promotion…”My face became expressionless. I felt helpless, everything within me screamed, my insides were boiling, yet all I could do was to stare at him like I entered some non-cognitive state.“You seemed upset,” Samil chuckled, “But you didn't like the office work anyway, did you? Now, you will get back on doing something creative, just like you wanted to.”My mimic muscles formed a f

I spent the first hour of sitting alone in my office cursing at Samil's ridiculous demand. Then I listed the number of shows that would be featured in our program and started imagining what the scenes could actually look like. It was all about guessing. I had to make right predictions and be prepare for every outcome. Until now, Grace and I were ready to act whenever something unexpected would occur, yet neither of us was prepared to think of all the situations beforehand, we made certain presumptions, that was it.I decided to write down 5 to 10 possible variables for each episode. Of course, there were then 3 to 5 short parts of each episode, which made me write somewhere between fifteen to fifty possible scenes and dialog drafts. There were twelve episodes planned for now, which gave me… the hell lot of work!I thought I was going to die when I finished writing the complex script for the second episode. I crawled out of my fancy office to grab at least a choc

I got back to my floor with my mood improved by a hundred percent. Samil's behavior brought me hope that perhaps, he wasn't as cold and indifferent towards me as he wanted me to believe he was.I was swaying on my feet, not even magical spells could replace this kind of sleep deficiency, yet before I headed home I wanted to have a little chat with Chris. I knocked on his door, being more certain now that he might already be inside.“Yes?” he called, “Come on in, whoever you are!”I opened the door with a smile, “It's me. Good morning, Chris.”“Kass? Aren't you supposed to go home?” Chris got up from his chair and rushed my way looking me up and down, examining my condition.“You are the second person chasing me home today…” I sighed, turning all around for him to prove I was more or less fine.“Really? Did Samil tell you he was concern…”“No,&r

By the time I finished reciting Immara's thoughts, I opened my eyes and found myself in my own bedroom. My mind was still filled with everything that Immara found about the demon's seal… “I need to write it down until I remember her notes!” I shouted frantically looking for a pen and a piece of paper. I started writing down each word I saw in glimpses of Immara's memories. I wrote 10 pages of detailed instructions before I realized I was writing in Hebrew… “Why Hebrew?” I wondered observing my notes. Fortunately, it was yet another language I could easily understand. Perhaps, Immara chose to write her diary like that deliberately, so not one of the servants, nor her enemies could read and understand what she was writing about. “God… how long did she had to stare at the Duke's naked chest…?!” I chuckled appreciating how precise were her insights on what were the words spinning inside the seal. I started to get jealous of her relationshi

The Chairman gazed at me suspiciously. He stood like that without saying a single word, observing me, as he was examining my body language in search for any markers of a lie. “How do you know that Samil is Jadiel Borda's incarnation?” he questioned. “I don't have any clear way to prove it… In my visions… they looked the same, just as I resembled Immara, like I was her copy… That is why I think that way…” “How is my Grandson destined to love a witch?!” he fumed harshly. A sudden hatred surfaced in Chairman's words. It was the first time that I saw exactly where was his line of tolerance. I suppose that he, as a Borda, learnt to hate all witches. Later, as a knowledgeable man, he learnt to ignore them, or tolerate that if there were useful. Now, I crossed the line in his eyes claiming that someone of his own blood shared a destiny with a witch. His words hurt, his words sounded unfair, his words made me smile bitterly. How foolishly I thought th