When His Magick Exploded ?

"Kiberius!" Cypur swore. He the little finger flicker! And then Wescherlie, he thought pushing her away meant he was saving her, so he reinforced it, acting the part of the bad Sorcerer. Then, she doubted him. But he was the one that didn't believe in her. If he had noticed she doubted the words of the police, all of that could have been avoided.

I shouldn't have pushed her away. And now I'm here when we could have fought them.

He realized another thing, too. Just when Eerious was shoving him into the policeship, two Sorcerers left the scene on Eerious' order. They had nets. Why else but to capture the Rauvuren?

Cypur stood. I have to get back. Find her.

Trying to take the collar off, only shocked his fingers. Rubbing his hands, he tried to think of lock magick and realized he was empty. It was different from magick energy being low. There was nothing. And without magick, he couldn't undo even a simple lock.

"Kiberius," he cursed again. This must be what it was like to be a useless Human. No magick. Nothing.

And I'm not Human-born. He still couldn't believe it. Didn't want to. His golden magick was inherited from Charmteller? The murderer? But there was something that didn't make sense. If Charmteller had his own murderous magick from the start, why did he need Cypur?

"Just because we're related can't be—"

"He was trying to regulate your magick."

Cypur turned at the sound of that voice. Behind was the start of a forest. Parting through the branches was Precense. His hair was matted, and the green and yellow highlights were faded. With puffy eyes, he still smiled.

His cape was torn, and fresh scratches lined his arms. Without magick, he couldn't heal. "And I knew the moment I met you. Come, I have a cave."

He walked off back into the forest. Cypur pressed his lips together. Precense knew the truth. Why didn't he say anything? It would have made this journey quicker. They wouldn't have had to stay too long at Library of Eternals and Deaths. He and Wescherlie would still be friends.

Or not?

It was after meeting with Precense that Cypur and Wescherlie became closer to one another. He relied on her and she, him. If he had known about the truth of his father earlier, he wouldn't have had a friend in a Rauvuren.

Precense and Cypur trekked through the forest in silence. Branches snagged his cape running tears through the material, no longer magick-enhanced. Cypur tripped on a tree root, falling to the ground, scrapping his hands. Red blood seeped from his palm unlike the usual black. He waited, but the wound didn't heal. Licking it, he tasted the iron, the blood of a Human.

Steam rose from the ground as the temperatures dropped. Chilled air made droplets pause on their way down from leaves or branches. Soon, they would freeze. Cypur wanted to hug himself, but he needed his arms out for balance.

Deeper into the woods, a growl thundered on the left. He whipped his head to the sound, but only shadows consumed the land beyond.

"It's the taiga," Precense whispered, "but as long as you stay away, so does the taiga." As he spoke, Cypur caught a tremble in his voice. Whatever it was, it even invoked fear in a male who was a practiced fighter. Moonlight illuminated the shadows for a mere second and something large shifted, retreating further in the depths. Leaves rustled and branches snapped. A growl echoed from the deep. Then, it began to rain again.

"Come, not too far." Precense quickened his pace. Cypur hurried after to not lose sight of him. Without magick to light the way, the rapidly growing darkness threatened to swallow Precense whole. But soon they came to an open meadow where the moon made a spotlight, turning the grass silver and the droplets clinging to the blades looked like gems. Beyond, a looming shadow sat stoic.