Two more nights had passed before the raven perched itself on Zara’s window. She’d been keeping it ajar every night despite the cold blowing in, assuming at some point, the raven would come to her. She just didn’t know which night it would be. Despite having expected it, the fluttering at the window with the raven’s soft caw had made her heart skip a beat out of fright.

The raven cawed again. Zara, with bated breath, approached cautiously, hobbling painfully over to the window as quietly as she could with her cane. She pulled back the curtain.

The raven sat at the sill, its sharp eyes regarding her. Zara stared back, her throat dry when she swallowed. The thing in front of her was nothing like the monster from her nightmares, yet…

“Oh,” Zara gasped. She hadn’t noticed the tiny glass bottle next to the raven’s feet. “What…?” It was a green liquid, reminiscent of leem extract the doctor had given her, but more concentrated given its paler hue.

“Drink,” it said.

Zara shook her head in disbelief.

The raven cocked its head, blinking rapidly.

“What is this?” she whispered, more to herself than to the raven. She had to be dreaming again. It was too surreal.

“Drink.”

Hesitantly, Zara picked up the bottle with fingers, careful that her shaking fingers wouldn’t drop the minuscule thing. She pulled off the cork and pulled it up to her nose before taking a deep breath, and downing it in one shot. It was definitely leem, as it had that ground-like taste and smell. This concoction however, was a lot more sour. Zara puckered her lips.

What have I done? What am I doing?

She had just taken an unknown offering from some random creature like it was nothing on her life. Like it didn’t have the potential to make her sick, or worse, kill her. Any regret, or illness, she might have would be from her own doing.

Zara’s knee began to tingle, and the soreness from her scabbing flesh began to smooth out. Her fever chills ceased, her mind better alert.

Huh?

The raven turned back, spreading its wings to make flight again.

“W-Wait,” Zara whispered. “Where are you going?”

“Follow,” it spoke.

It flew off, disappearing into the blackness. A gust of cold wind blew through and Zara shut the window, her entire body tingled with warmth. She began limping to her dresser, then stopped.

“Oh…” she exhaled, dropping the cane and carefully stretching out her left leg. The pain in her knee had mostly disappeared, leaving only a slight prickle where the stitching was. A miracle. A real miracle.

Zara threw on a thick black cloak and a wool scarf. She was going out, and doing so on her own terms. This time, she’d bundle up.

He waited for her, as a human, at the clearing beyond the forest overlooking a wide river. The water swirled lazily down and around between stone and fallen branches, traveling miles away between a large mountain pass, eventually leading out into the grand lake on the other side. The place was misty, and the moon shone high, creating sparkling reflections in the river. The trees and shrubs shivered in the icy breeze.

She appeared, crunching through twigs and frozen ice, panting as she made the shallow ascent up the hill where he awaited. His enhanced leem had healed her better, though she still walked with a slight limp.

This clearing was where Zara came alone to practice her dancing, or when she wanted silence. She’d come more often back when the weather was warmer. But sometimes, she couldn’t resist coming here during the cool season either—usually around sunset when the view was best. She’d stand and watch the painted skies and falling snow, hugged in layers of her coziest attire.

Zara stopped short, practically stumbling back upon noticing The Sorcerer’s tall, cloaked silhouette, his clothes practically camouflaging in the dark. She stood still, her eyes never leaving him. He wondered if she could make out his face from over there. Of course, she already knew what his face looked like. But conversing at such a wide distance was going to be a hassle, and he wasn’t about to be the one to inch closer to her.

Should he beckon her, then? He didn’t want to scare her. She was nervous enough.

He probably shouldn’t have lured her out so soon, while she was still recovering. But he needed to get the wheels rolling, and besides, Zara had chosen to follow him in her weary state, by no influence of his magic. It was by her own curiosity that she was here. She wanted this.

The Sorcerer nodded and gestured a hand toward himself, smiling pleasantly even though he doubted she could see it.

Zara moved closer, whispering a gasp when she accidentally put too much pressure on her left leg. Nevertheless, she moved forward, now more determined it seemed, to get even closer. By the moon’s light he could see her face had recovered immensely (thanks to him), leaving mostly dry patches and healing scabs. Her under eyes were dark from lack of sleep. The medicine he’d provided her was strong. It combined both leem extract and alcocine, a medicinal herb for wound healing from within the body. Alcocine alone was effective, thus one of the more expensive herbs in the medicine market. But fused with another effective extract, and with The Sorcerer’s charms, its healing power was like no other. Doctors and healers from all over the globe would kill to get their hands on this remedy.

The meager drops he’d let Zara have had been enough, any more would have caused severe skin irritation and internal wounding. The Sorcerer was no medicine man, but a few simple healing potions were useful for any mage to know.

“Zara,” The Sorcerer greeted her once she was a couple feet away. “We meet again.”

Zara swallowed, still panting from her short hike. She regarded him a moment.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “How are your wounds? Are they healing well?”

Her exhaustive breathing finally slowed. “Um, y-yes. Thank…you,” she stammered.

He nodded, offering her a courteous smile. “Of course. In another day’s time, all will be well. That bottle I’ve given you is quite potent.”

Zara didn’t respond to that. Another minute went by as she shuffled uncomfortably, wrapping her thick cloak around herself like a shield.

“Is there anything you’d like to ask me?” The Sorcerer asked when the silence had stretched too long. “Anything you’d like to know?”

“Uh…” Zara’s voice shook. She opened her mouth, then closed it. A second later she was back at it again—the hesitancy.

“Go on,” The Sorcerer said lightly. “I’m listening. In fact, it’s why I brought you here, as troublesome as it may have been for you. I apologize. But I can understand how you’re feeling. I understand you. And I’d like you to know that I may be the only one in your lifetime who ever will.”

She stopped trembling and finally looked him square in the eye. Her mouth parted in wonder.

“Yes…” she answered carefully. “I need…I need to ask you something.”

The Sorcerer waited.

“What is your name?”

That response gave him pause. He had to admit he was a bit taken back, at first. However, he quirked his lips and delivered a smooth reply:

“My name is Revan. I am happy we have a chance to speak again, Zara. Now…where shall we begin?”

She’s really fucking done it now!

Rowan threw on his cloak, despite feeling woozy from the fever he had just broken out of. It was the middle of the fucking night and his bedridden sister had snuck out of the house. He was able to tell by her soft footsteps passing his door.

Well clearly, she wasn’t as bedridden as she’d let on. But she definitely wasn’t well enough to pull such a stupid stunt right now! What in the world was she doing? Was she trying to get herself sicker by traipsing out into the damn frost again? For what possible reason? She had none!

No friends…no lover…nothing.

Where would she go?

Following her would be just as idiotic. Rowan had frozen his ass saving her that dreadful night, only to have his throat start itching later in the week. He’d done well to ignore it during his heart-to-heart with Zara. But that night, his nose dripped. Then came the headaches and the chills. Before he knew it, he was forced into bed with hot soups and a cool towel for his throbbing head.

Rowan tried hushing his sneeze as he tiptoed down the stairs, taking care to avoid the creaks in the stairs. The only reason he’d heard her at all was because he couldn’t get to sleep. His head hurt thinking about that kid’s execution tomorrow evening. News had spread through this town like an avalanche within a few days time. Everybody would attend, and Rowan couldn’t help feeling disturbed by the general excitement around the neighboring areas. He couldn’t stop thinking about Zara’s face and how she’d cried about it happening to her someday.

He didn’t even know Yohid. So why was he so afraid? Why did thinking about watching that boy die make Rowan sick to his stomach? He’d never been to a public execution, and when he was younger, the thought of one had sent thrills throug his body.

Now he can only berate himself for having been so young, dumb, and cruel.

Wait…was that it? Was Zara going to try and save this kid somehow? How?! Did she even know where he was?!

Rowan slowly and gently closed the front door behind him, even though he really just wanted to slam it and run as fast as he could. He could see her limping toward the forest, getting smaller and distant.

What? The forest?

There was something else, too. Rowan thought he saw something zipping around in front of her. Some black thing. He couldn’t tell what it was before it suddenly disappeared as Zara plunged into the fog. Maybe he had imagined it, but his gut was telling him otherwise.

She was following something. And Rowan would follow her.

Life around Zara was becoming more and more complicated. Dangerous, even. Years of her almost dull presence now suddenly felt like the ground would cave in if she simply willed it too. Rowan jogged on, determined to find out why this was.

“You saved my life.”

“No,” Revan replied. “Your brother did.”

Zara bit her chapped lip, unable to think straight. There were so many things she wanted to ask, but standing before him in a dark forest like this was making her head spin and her blood rush with anxiety. Perhaps it was the effects of the enchanted medicine. She really should be in bed sleeping and not standing here with a strange man who had lured her out of her home…

Could she trust him? How did she know she wasn’t under his constant influence?

“Why am I here?” she croaked out. “Why did I follow you? Is this your doing? Is this similar to what you did to me last time?”

“Let me ask you this,” he said. “Was the experience similar to the previous time? Did you feel your mind, your emotions, being manipulated as it had been at Ruvini’s?”

“….I don’t know,” she answered, still suspicious.

He chuckled. “If you do not know, then it did not happen. You are here because you wanted to be here. Isn’t that right?”

She’d noticed it slightly before, but it was much more apparent now that he was speaking freely—his accent was different. She’d heard Divvish people speak, it was similar to their accents. But his tongue was smoother, elegant. Maybe he hailed from an older sect, or perhaps another culture entirely. Zara honestly wouldn’t know for sure.

Revan smiled warmly at her, as though convincing her he wasn’t a threat. It was working.

“So you…you can turn yourself into birds, too,” Zara pointed out.

“Among other creatures as well, if I obtain the correct materials to do so. Though I have to admit, speaking as a raven is still difficult on my throat sometimes. I am out of practice.”

“Practice…” Zara whispered. Unbelievable….but no. This is real. He is real. “You’re…an actual wizard. You’re what I’ve read about from every book and tale a-and…I can’t even tell you how overwhelmed I am. I’m sorry.” She tittered stupidly.

“I understand.”

“Why are you here? O-or…why did you want to meet me?”

Revan chuckled. “I’m no mere wizard, Zara. I’m a Sorcerer. There are different classes to this, a hierarchy if you so wish to call it that. I’ve moved beyond wizardry.”

Zara blinked. Of course there were different classes of sorcery. But she didn’t expect herself to be in the presence of not a wizard, but an actual Sorcerer. A mage that belonged to the highest class in the order.

Holy Mother of—

“But I’m sure you know of such things already,” he added. “And to answer your other concern, you simply caught my attention as a fellow mage. That’s all.”

“Really?” Zara spoke reluctantly. “But, you give off the impression that you know a lot about me alreay. You knew my name. You knew where to find me, where my home was…”

Revan looked at her expectantly, with a confident air that made Zara feel like he knew more than he let on. She could only come to one conclusion.

“You’ve been watching me,” she mumbled. The bitter air was seeping through her cloak, into her skin, rattling her bones.

Revan said nothing.

“For how long?” she needed to ask.

“Long enough to see your potential.”

“My…what?”

“I don’t want to disturb you any more than you already are. However, you can’t blame me for my interest in you. I have not met another mage in decades. I was starting to fear I was the only one left on this world. But I happen to come across this town after a long time again, and I sensed you.

“I couldn’t believe it, not right away. Your magic was so weak I thought I had imagined it. Nevertheless…I kept watch. And then there were the flares of power, confirming what you are. So I continued watching since.” He smiled. “It seems…you’re starting to let your magic speak for your emotions. That has made you stronger, albeit unreliable and wild, but magic naturally takes some time getting used to.”

Unreliable and wild.

Zara felt queasy. She took a step back from him. “Um, how do you watch me?”

“I’ll show you how if the time ever comes for it.”

She didn’t understand what that meant. It left her with more questions than answers. She might as well diverge from this troubling subject by asking her next question.

“Where are you from then, if not here? You didn’t come here looking for me, that much you’ve just made clear. What did you seek in Pria?”

Revan shrugged. “I was passing through on my way to Bazant City, further south. I thought I’d make a stop here, stay for a while back when the weather was alright. Pria is one of the more peaceful places I know of…until now that is.” He sighed. “That poor boy.”

Zara’s head rushed at the prospect of tomorrow’s sundown. She crossed her shivering arms together. She must stay composed.

She wished she could have found a way to help Yohid. He was a child locked in a cell, tortured, alone, with a doomed fate ahead of him. And it was through no fault of his own that this was happening to him.

How could people be so cruel to someone so…small? Innocent? Powerless?

Powerless…power…

Zara looked to Revan desperately. “Poor boy? But…you can save him. You can save him, can’t you? You’ve been watching, you know what’s going to happen. You could have saved him from the start!”

Revan raised a brow of indifference.

Unbelievable.

“You could have…done something…” Zara’s voice faded out, tired. “Why not? He’s a mage, like us. It doesn’t make sense for you not to intervene. Do you really not care?”

“It is not that—”

“You sought me out but what about him?” Zara whimpered in a low breath.

“As unfortunate as it is,” Revan said, “I cannot save him.”

“Why not?”

“I am not one to go around acting as a savior. Besides, me helping him out of his binds would only cause more suspicion upon you.”

“What?”

Can’t be a savior? Suspicion upon her? Why would that be? That’s not what she was asking of him. It was just this one boy who needed help. What kind of a man was she really dealing with here? Zara was getting angrier by the second.

Revan sighed. “You’re not going to like hearing this, Zara. But your time left in Pria is shortening by the second.”

Zara waited for his explanation, on edge. Her teeth chattered and she folded her arms together under her cloak.

“Your father’s futile attempt to take your life wasn’t only about what you did with that mere insect. The real issue here are his work associates. They have started inquiring him about you.”

“Inquiring…why would they do that?”

Why would her father’s friends care about her at all? Zahir purposefully tried to keep Zara out of his personal conversations with colleagues, to avoid too many prying questions about her. Most people actually forgot she existed, until they were reminded that Zahir had three children and not two.

“They now wonder why he avoids discussing you, why his responses about you are so vague compared to how he speaks of his sons…”

Zara’s throat constricted.

“This is due to Yohid’s torture confession, when he mentioned meeting you.”

Her surroundings had gone completely black. She stumbled, and Revan grabbed her before she could fall, gently lowering her down.

“Oh…” Zara opened her eyes after a minute. Her entire body felt pounded through. “Why….? Why would he do that?”

“He’s just a boy,” Revan said, and his tone implied regret for Yohid’s dilemma.

Zara, in her distress, did not think to ask Revan how he knew the details of her father’s interactions with his colleagues or of Yohid’s confession. There were more important matters at hand. This town was closing in on her, and they’d make her suffer.

“Why? Why would he do that? Why would he…are they c-coming after me?”

Revan shook his head. “Zahir managed to appease them. He insisted that the boy was delirious and needed someone to blame, and he mentioned that the two of you had met once before and you showed him some kindness. Everyone thinks the boy is using you as a scapegoat. But that does not mean their suspicions are fully gone. This matter goes beyond any ordinary crime. There is sorcery involved. You need to understand what is at stake here, Zara. If I were to help Yohid, the shift of blame may immediately fall on you, and the officials of this town will add you to their witch hunt.”

Zara quietly stewed over her predicament. She was in deep shit, and it was her own fault. Helping him, bandaging him, giving him coin. It had been…a mistake.

“I know how it feels,” Revan said, standing up again, “to meet someone of your kind for the first time. But your mistake lies in your honest enthusiasm. Do not trust anyone with your identity, even if it be a child. Especially a child.”

Zara raised her head to meet his eye. “Should I trust you?”

Revan smiled thinly. “That is for you to decide. But I mean you no harm.”

“Then what do you want?”

Revan ceased a reply. His focus suddenly landed on something in the forest beyond her. Zara turned her head, and saw nothing. A minute went by as Zara sat still, confused by his intensity. She turned to where he looked again, but there still lacked any other presence.

“What is it?” she whispered.

She was met with his silence, his severe gaze stopped on the forest. He sensed something she couldn’t. It was scaring her.

“R-Revan?”

Revan blinked, casting his eyes back down on her.

“Do not be alarmed,” he assured. “Someone was attempting to pass through. I urged them back so they would not come upon us.”

“Wh—there was someone coming?!” Zara exclaimed. “Who would do that?” This late into the night? Was someone following her? That had to have been it, there was no other explanation.

She didn’t have a good feeling about this. Her house was the only property within manageable walking distance from this clearing.

Revan shook his head. “I am not sure. Perhaps a hunter.”

Zara frowned, trying to ignore the stab of horror in her gut. “I doubt that. How did you know someone was there, anyway?”

Revan chuckled. “I’m sure you have many questions for me of that nature. I would be happy to answer them and even show you how my magic works if you would like.”

“Show…me?” She wanted to know, but her stomach flipped at meeting this man again like this. But curiosity won over apprehension, and she wanted to learn what she could do with magic herself.

“As I said, you have great potential Zara. The power I’ve felt from you in that shed was incredible for someone who had never utilized it in their life.”

“My power?” Zara asked. “You felt it? But, I was unconscious.”

“Yet, you managed to create a small tremor. I felt it in the air, and in the ground near you.”

Her mouth opened. A tremor? In the ground? No. That’s not possible. I can’t do that! I’ve never done that!

“Are you sure it wasn’t just…a normal quake?”

Quakes were rare in Pria, but not unheard of. Zara had never experienced one, though her mother had, years before Naz was even born. The quake was small, and nonthreatening. In other parts of the world, particularly near the shore sides and lands further south, the ground would shake so hard it would cause establishments to fall and floors to crack open. Many people would die in brutal quakes, however they didn’t occur often at all. The previous one Zara heard of was ten years ago near the port city of Andras, the continent across Sanyara. The Shipping Point had to be rebuilt, halting trade between the two major port cities for a month.

“No my dear,” Revan answered. “It was from you.”

He could have been lying, for all she knew, just to entice her. But for what, exactly? What did he want from her?

“How do I know that what you’re telling me isn’t all pretend?” Zara said.

“Your power needs training,” Revan replied. “And once you train, you will know that I only speak what is true.”

Zara looked at him, contemplatively. She slowly—and somewhat painfully—lifted herself off the ground, cautiously so as not to injure her knee any further.

“Training…is that what this is about?” she demanded.

“Perhaps,” Revan answered coyly. “Perhaps I only wanted to meet you, to get to know you away from prying eyes and ears. But, training your magic…is that what you wish to do?”

“Well, would it be with…with you?”

“Who else has offered, my dear?”

“No! I mean, yes. Yes, I want to train,” Zara said. “I wish to learn to control my magic, the way you do with yours.”

Revan smiled. “Very well.”

“So…y-you would show me?”

“I can train you to control your magic.”

Zara took a deep breath in, her excitement—and fear—building.

“I will teach you the ways of sorcery, ancient and otherwise,” Revan said. “And in turn, you will study under me, as my apprentice.”

Rowan had lost sight of Zara through the annoying fog. He took a random direction, thinking he’d heard her footsteps, but it just turned out to be a moose. Rowan pushed passed thick branches, unaware of his surroundings and how far he was going.

This was a bad idea…

But he had come all this way here, and he wasn’t about to meander around like a lost idiot…even though he felt that way.

He wandered on through the trees until the fog thinned, to his relief. And with that relief came confusion. Gusts of wind from the mountains blew down. His face and hands felt frozen. He blew hot air into his palms and rubbed them together, regretting that he’d left off his mitts.

What am I doing out here?

It was too cold to be running around like this. He had almost risked getting lost and if he hadn’t found his way out of that thick fog…

Rowan trembled. He felt like a stone was sinking down his body, anchoring him in place. He couldn’t handle being stuck out here all night.

And for what? Her? She chose to be out here. Just because she wants to freeze to death after what happened last time doesn’t mean I need to suffer the same fate! I’m done saving her.

Rowan sniffed and turned back the way he came, eventually sighting his house again, tiny in the distance. He really, for the life of him, couldn’t understand why he was out here, risking another punishment for nothing, when safety and warmth of a fire going in his bedroom was a half a mile away.

With that, he trudged out of the wet forest, irritated at dirtying his boots in the mud, and began the march back home.