******

I stirred in my bed, unable to drift off into sleep. My whole body was tense, waiting for something. The last two times I'd heard the screams and moans occurred during full moons. Tonight, a perfectly circular disk which glowed silver hung in the dark sky.

I kept my Medium by my side. If Josef wanted to stop me again, I wouldn't let him. He had more experience as a sorcerer, but I was a Magus. And now that I had drunk from the Fountain, I was more powerful than I'd ever been.

At least, I hoped so. I hadn't gotten a chance to test out my new abilities today.

In the end, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, I hauled myself out of bed, limping over to my window. With a whispered 'liohtia', light flared in the room. My curls caught the wind, dancing gently with it. The forest atop the mountains my room faced was serene, at one with the night sky, as though they were sharing a hidden secret amongst themselves. I tuned my ears to the distilled silence.

Then someone pounded on my door.

My heart jumped. "Who is it?" I called out. I hobbled over to the door, flute raised to my lips.

"Josef." I frowned. I was expecting him, but I didn't think that he would actually come knocking at my door. When I didn't answer, he pleaded, "Please. I have to talk to you, milady."

I bit my lower lip. After much consideration and weaving a tune to help me melt into the shadows, I eased the door open. Josef eagerly stepped in, before whipping his head around, bewildered. As far as I could see, he wasn't carrying anything that looked particularly dangerous, though sorcerers didn't need to carry steel to be lethal. Still, the desperate look on his face made me relent. I whistled and dropped the illusion.

He didn't look that surprised to see my figure unfurling out of the shadows. "What do you want?" I said. I kept a wary eye on him as I reached to close the door.

He started to pace up and down my room. The space wasn't small, but watching a person of his size tramping about it made me feel cramped. "I've been thinking about it over these past few months: who you are, what you are and what you want," he said, not explaining anything at all. "Can I trust you? Can I be sure that you won't be the death of all of us?"

"Josef, if you don't explain what you're doing here in the middle of the night I shall scream and call for guards—"

"The truth. I want the truth." I raised my brows; he drew out a small vial from the pocket of his jerkin. He stopped pacing and walked towards me. Again, something about him—his whole demeanour—felt familiar to me, but I couldn't pinpoint the reason why. "I'll let you drink this, and you'll answer my questions."

I folded my arms across my chest, eyeing the vial uneasily. "How can I not be sure that it's not poison?"

"This is a truthteller. It makes you tell the truth, whether you like it or not, hence the name." He handed the tiny container to me. I inspected it from all angles, waving my steinlioht over so that it hovered directly above my hands. It shimmered a dark purple, and it looked as though it was peering into the depths of my soul. "Surely Elise has taught you about the different potions?"

At my blank look, he heaved a resigned sigh. "Right, you're a Magus. Of course you won't have a need for potions," he said, half-reproachful.

"Drink it," I told him. "Then I'll ask you a few questions myself."

He took the vial away from my fingers. "I'd known that that would happen. However, don't expect me to reply to every single question you have," he warned.

"Why not?"

"Because of...reasons. Look, just don't be too surprised, all right? And once you're done asking me your questions, say this, 'Warentôn'."

I nodded cautiously, tucking the word away in my mind. He uncorked the vial and swallowed half its contents in one gulp. A strange scent billowed in the air—lavender and honey. A thousand truths were on the tip of my tongue, just waiting to be spilled out. I shook my head vigorously; I regained focus.

Josef seemed more agitated, tapping his right foot impatiently and buzzing with contained energy. Experimentally, I said, "What do you think of me?"

"I do not know," he said quickly. "I honestly don't know what to make of you, if you're a friend or foe.

I looked at his handsome, familiar face curiously. "What is your favourite colour?"

"Green."

"Last name?"

"Don't have one. I'm bound to Heidelberg and that's all I need to know."

He answered without any hesitation. I continued to study him, refusing to let my guard down. If he were an actor, he was a damn good one. "What is the one thing you regret doing most in your life?"

"When I was fourteen, one of my friends challenged me to kiss a visiting lady from the Council. In return, he would be my slave of sorts for the whole week. I accepted." His cheeks flamed, as if an unknown hand had steered him into spewing those words out. Yet he continued: "And foolishly, I did it. However, Lady Anya being a Magus, she entrapped me with her magic and chided me so badly I feared that she would remove my name from the list of sorcerers. By the time Lord Himmel arrived, nearly all the castle denizens were gathered to watch me being ridiculed. My friend kept his promise, but it wasn't worth the jeering that followed the months after. I even got demoted in rank."

His expression was contorted into one of embarrassment. Meanwhile, I was still considering. Was he merely acting to gain my trust? Or...could it be that the potion was truly working its magic? "What do you want from me?" I pressed on.

"The truth," he said steadily. He locked his eyes onto me. "Nothing but the truth."

That was an unhelpfully vague answer. "Where do the moans come from?"

"A hidden room beneath the castle." His eyes widened, like he couldn't believe what he had just said.

"How can I enter it?"

"There's a secret passageway from—" He suddenly cut off. He doubled over, wheezing, clawing at his throat. I moved to help him; he held a hand up to stop me. Eventually, he recovered and stood upright.

"So? How can I enter it?" I wasn't going to excuse him for his sudden wheezing fit.

He shook his head mutely. "I cannot tell you."

"What do you mean you cannot tell me? You have been answering every single question of mine perfectly so far!"

"Remember what I told you? This is one of the moments where you shouldn't be surprised," he retorted coolly. "There are certain...bindings on me. I cannot speak of matters that I'm not allowed to."

I huffed in frustration. "How convenient for you."

"You think I want to do this?" he snarled. "Anyhow, you can see that the potion isn't poisonous. Do you trust me now?"

I searched deep within myself. Did I trust him? Or more importantly, could I trust him? A sigh escaped from between my lips. "All right. Warentôn."

Josef took in a deep gasp, face crumpling in relief. I felt a snap in the air—a tether of energy that binding me to him being severed. So it looked like the truthteller was real after all. To my surprise, I felt a little disappointed. I was rather enjoying the unofficial interrogation I was conducting.

"Now, your turn." He pushed the vial into my hands. I took it. I could refuse to drink the potion; it was my right. However, I knew that I had to keep to my end of the bargain. Josef had willingly put himself at my mercy. It was only proper if I returned the favour. So I removed the stopper and swallowed the rest of the potion.

If truth had a taste, it would be this.

It was harsh, unyielding, strong—similar to the torrent of a waterfall, forcing all the horrors of the world upon you. Yet beneath it there was a tang of calmness, like the clarity of the stars during the night, saying that it was all right to reveal truths. To expose every corner of darkness within you, to show the world who you are.

The sensation was disorientating.

"Who are you?" asked Josef.

"Klaudia," I replied, only slightly aware that I was doing so.

"What are your intentions for coming to Heidelberg?"

"I only wished to marry Lord Himmel, play a good wife to him, and escape the drudgeries of Hamelin," I spat with venom. I slapped my hands over my mouth; the words all poured out too seamlessly. "I never intended for all of this to happen."

"You were never aware of your magical ability prior to this?" He sounded genuinely surprised.

"Yes."

He allowed silence to engulf us for a moment. I shuffled under his scrutinising gaze. He looked like he still didn't believe me, although I had consumed the truthteller potion. "I'll be blunt with you," he decided, tone curt. "Are you a spy from the Council?"

"No." Despite myself, a frown creased my forehead. What on earth put the notion of me being a spy into his mind? From the Council, no less! Even so, no one in their right mind would want a cripple as their spy.

"Warentôn," he gasped, staggering backwards. Another string of energy snapped in the air; my tongue finally felt like it could move of its own accord again. I took in a deep breath, relieved. There was no heavy weight upon my chest.

We stared at each other for a while, unsure of what to make of the whole situation. Although we had just asked the questions we wanted, I had a feeling that it wasn't enough to quell the incumbent satisfaction growling throughout us. I knew it wasn't for me. I still had so many mysteries burning inside me, itching to find the water that would put it out. "Why do I hear the moans?" I finally asked, desperate to break the sudden awkwardness that had crept in between us. I wrapped my arms around myself protectively. He had caught me in nothing but a shift again.

Josef just seemed to realise this as well. He coughed, looked away, then replied, "I do not know. Perhaps it's because of your affinity with music—sounds, and the like. Never had I encountered anyone else who was aware of it before."

"Then what are those moans?"

"I can't tell you." Josef kept his eyes pinned onto my vanity table, where a giant, oval mirror with intricate borders sat before it. "I truly can't. There is a...binding put upon me. I cannot speak of it unless my master permits it."

"Your master. Lord Himmel?"

"I cannot say, unfortunately."

Silence wedged between us again. Perhaps it was because of the lateness of the hour, but I didn't find myself questioning his statement. "I think you should go," I said quietly.

He started, straightening himself and bowing towards me. "Of course, milady." He turned around and exited my room without a single ounce of hesitation. I went back to my bed, eager to find sleep after the conversation.

And I didn't hear any moans or screams.

******

The next morning, I was slightly surprised to have Lord Himmel send a message to me. I took the sealed paper from the runner boy, thanked him, and closed the door behind me. I ripped it open, eager to quench my curiosity. It read: Training session with Elise cancelled. Please come see me in my office. Signed, Markus.

I raised my brows. He had used his given name when signing the letter. So he was serious about trying to improve relations between us. I folded the paper neatly, humming a crisp, upbeat tune. The message crackled into fire, before dissolving into ashes.

Accordingly, I dressed myself in fine velvets and satin slippers, as opposed to the usual homespun day gown I wore during mornings for magical training. I then set out for his office. I could make my way around the castle fairly well now, even if I did have to stop and ask a few passing servants for the proper directions, just to be sure. They no longer looked at my limp; they no longer cast me critical looks. Instead, they only saw their future lady, a true Magus who had drank from Saint Bromilde's Fountain. They saw my power, nothing else.

I couldn't decide if that was frightening or thrilling.

In due course, I arrived in Lord Himmel's office. It was a long walk from my room, and my hip was screaming in protest by the time I knocked gingerly on his door. I was looking forward to collapsing onto whatever chair he had inside, even if it was a worm-eaten stool with a broken leg.

"Enter," his voice rang out from the inside, deep and pleasant. It was music in itself. I briefly wondered if the third Magus Josef had referred to with an affinity for music was Lord Himmel.

Once admitted into his office, a small grin lit up Lord Himmel's face. He looked like he was trying to smother it, but was failing abysmally. "Klaudia," he greeted, tone just a shade too detached, "please have a seat."

He didn't have to say anymore. I even nearly forgot to curtsy before him. Gratefully, I plopped myself onto the seat before his table with the grace of a lumbering tortoise. "So, I have summoned you here to discuss the details of the cleansing ritual," he said, arranging a few papers spread across the table.

"Of course, milord," I replied evenly.

His eyes flicked towards me. "I thought we had agreed to use our first names, Klaudia?"

"Oh—er yes, mi—Markus," I corrected myself hastily. He leaned back on his high back chair, a smile of satisfaction tinging his lips. He didn't bother to hide it this time.

"Anyway, back to business." His eyes resumed the hardness I had grown accustomed to over the months I'd known him. It was his default nature, a mask he couldn't take off easily, no matter how he tried. "Exactly one week from now, we will leave for the cleansing ritual. You won't have to perform the actual ritual—you will just be protecting me from any rogue monsters. Understand?"

I felt like a soldier receiving orders from his general. "Yes, milo—Markus."

He gave a curt bob of the head. "Excellent. It will also be an excellent opportunity for me to observe your skills in the field, and see if you're fit for recommendation as an official Magus under the Council." He continued to shuffle the papers on his desk, marching them into orderly neatness. "All right. You may leave now. You have the whole day off to yourself."

"Wait!" I burst out. Lord Himmel cocked a brow at me. "I—I have to tell you something."

He folded his hands on the desk, fingers interlocking with each other. "Well, out with it then."

"I have been hearing moans at night," I confessed softly. A fleeting shadow of shock passed over his face; it disappeared in a blink of an eye. "And I only hear them during every full moon. Please, I don't know what's happening. Is there...something in the castle?"

He flashed a smile which didn't quite reach his eyes. "What a vivid imagination you have, my dear."

"It wasn't my imagination," I said stoutly.

"Well, I'm certainly not in the habit of hearing moans and screams at night." Again, that detached smile. "Should I send a Healer to look after you?"

Damnation. He had to be hiding something—I was sure of it. But bluntly forcing my way to get the answers wasn't the right method for now. So I yielded: "Perhaps...it was my imagination. I'm sorry for troubling you."

"No trouble at all. Besides, I like a wife with a few quirks. Life would be too boring otherwise," he said. His mouth was a stern, thin line, but his eyes were sparkling.

"I take it that I'm forgiven?"

"You never offended anyone in the first place. I mustn't detain you any longer. Besides, I have work to do."

I took it as my cue to leave. I stood up, curtsied as best as I could, and stalked towards the door. "Klaudia," Lord Himmel suddenly called out. I looked over my shoulder. His stoic mask had melted, giving way to something akin to...tenderness?

"Yes, Markus?"

"I—" he started haltingly. Then he drew himself up, commanding the aura of a powerful lord. "Nothing. I hope you have a pleasant day, that's all."

"As to you, Markus," I replied. I turned around to exit the office. He didn't stop me this time.

******