Kailor's manor is far more magnificent than what my imagination could ever muster. It's similar to Tai's in design, although older and more classic, evocative of gothic mansions you would sooner see in the dark depths of the Scarlet Province. The entire building is shadowed by the trees that circle the area, the minimal amount of sun shining over glinting off the sweeping windows and grand archways. "At any point you want, we leave," Tai tells me firmly, gripping my hand. I swallow uncomfortably, nodding. Tai is the one who should be worrying, since this moment means re-establishing a very

Wrapping my gown around myself tighter, I peek in through the doorway. Tai stands in the middle of the room, fiddling around with a small object wedged into an unfamiliar mechanical item. Most of the space is consumed by the large wooden benches and tables, all stacked with tools and half-done projects.  "It's late,” I murmur, leaning against the doorway. Tai glances up from what he is working, eyes vibrant as he drinks in the sight of me. He wears just a shirt with no jacket, the cotton fabric clinging to his arms and abdomen. Sometimes I forget how much hi

I can't get Zavian out of my head. Last night, he refused to tell me much more, encouraging me to go inside before the blood kicked in. Out of fear I did, sneaking back into my room where I locked my door, tossing and turning all night, unable to get the sight of Zavian with blood all around his mouth out of my head. Now Tai stands in front of me, pacing. Afternoon has glided into evening, a fuchsia tinted light drenching the floor around us, distorted slightly by the lace curtain fluttering in the breeze.&nbs

The autumn leaves crunch under foot as Elan and I walk through the forest toward the nearby village. Having a Summoner as an escort to this town is bad enough, it just so happens I don't trust him, and he doesn't trust me either. I just have to remember that I'm doing this - going into the town to look for rebel sympathisers - for Kailor's trust, and to eventually take down Marek and Vaia. "I was hoping we could be friends," Elan says from beside me, pulling a branch up for me to duck under. We may be walking a common track, but it isn't exactly a well-kept. If we took a carriage, it would

Defeated, I have to fight the urge not to collapse onto the ground in a heap. Instead, I wipe at the blood splattered across my face. “Of course,” I mutter, throwing my hands up. “Of damn course.” Marek sighs, leaning down to wipe the blade of his knife on the shirt of the now deceased man. I watch, stomach churning as he slips the knife back into its place behind him, unbothered by the dead bodies that litter the clearing, thick scarlet blood pooling in the grass. I fight the urge to throw up, knowing what I must look like.