Cage will feel my revenge soon.
I don’t linger. I walk the second floor of the castle, enjoying the solitude this hall provides. The entire right wall is a series of open arches. There is no glass, just carved stone allowing the lingering heat of the day to escape on the occasional breeze. Through the gaps, the sounds of the training yard drift upward: clashing steel, shouted commands, and grunts of exertion.
Below, guards and knights move through drills, sharpening their skills. On some days, the mages join them, practicing hand-to-hand combat and swordplay. When the vermin are out of sight, they spar with spells, weaving magic into tense standoffs.
I spent a portion of the morning with Iris, only to come up empty-handed. She still doesn’t know what’s mutating the creatures or how the morbid girl shattered my mental shield with just a touch. Still, I stayed longer than I meant to. I’ve started to enjoy our talks.
I don’t do well sitting still. It gives my mind too much room to wander. The anxious energy inside me fizzes like carbonation with no release, so I pace the castle, waiting for it to pass.
Peering down into the yard below, I see no mages today—only guards running drills beneath the sun.
Kalix leads them through a series of evolutions, his voice booming over the clatter of steel. “Luca, switch sparring partners. Choose someone stronger.”
The boy obeys at once, hurrying to find his new opponent.
Even among the dozens of men, Kalix stands out. He towers over them all, his shoulders broad enough to dwarf anyone beside him. Even from here, distance does little to hide the way muscle ripples beneath his tunic. He moves like someone born to command, but it’s odd how graceful he navigates the space for a man his size.
He is captain of the guard after all; still, something about his strength feels…off, unnatural, too much.
Training has always helped with my anxiety back home. Movement gave my mind something to cling to. Now, with Kalix down there, I hesitate.
Living among vermin hasn’t been as intolerable as I imagined it would be. That alone should terrify me.
There’s a warmth between Iris and Kalix—a closeness I’ve never shared with anyone outside of Arcadia and my mother.How did she manage that…with a human?Are there other witches who’ve softened to mortals the way she has?
Cage’s words echo in my mind; in hindsight, they’re sharper now. I’ve never left the coven or seen what the world holds beyond the twisted woods of home. If there are witches out there who’ve fallen for mortals, I wouldn’t know.
Arcadia always returned with fun trinkets and wild stories. She was happy when she told them. She was happy.
The thought claws at my chest, burrowing deep and hollowing me out, just like the trees we’d find, eaten from the inside by termites. I rub the center of my sternum, trying to summon warmth to press away the ache.
Disgust follows quickly. I curl my fingers into a fist.
This is weakness. My sisters would say I’m going mad. Nora would agree.
I yearn for comfort and the fondness of humans. I’m entertaining thoughts I can’t even name. It’s the newness of it all, a novelty that will fade. I will settle.
I know who I am, what I am. And I am not weak.
I invite the numbness back. I let it harden in my chest like stone—let it quiet the noise.
Iris's sweet voice breaks through my thoughts like a bird’s song.
“Gawking at the guards?” she teases, her cheeks round with amusement.
I laugh dryly. “Absolutely not. I think being cooped up in that lab of yours is making you see things.”
I turn to look at her. Her hair is a mess, frazzled and damp from hours of work. One strap of her overalls hangs loose against her ribs, the other barely clinging to her shoulder.
“Sooo,” she drawls, sliding up beside me, “the clenched fists aren’t from some desperate yearning for a man's flesh?”
She leans over the sand-colored ledge, resting her forearms on the warm stone.
I join her, mirroring the pose; my eyes drift to the sparring guards below. Repulsion balls up low in my throat at the suggestion I yearn for their flesh in any fashion outside of consuming them.
“How do you do it?” I ask, barely above a whisper. “How can you be around them so easily—sleep with them…for pleasure?”
“I can create life. I can bring things back, even if they’re not quite the same as before. That might be hard for you to understand, but to me, they’re just like us. When I revive them, their heart beats the same as yours. As mine.”
