✨🔮✨

I look at Hollyhock on the ground. This is the best outcome and it still hurts to see. She just risked her life fighting for me and this is the reward she gets, unconscious on her floor, bound to wake up in immense pain and profound confusion.

This is the price I have to pay for involving her in my world.

She almost looks peaceful.

“Let’s go,” Mentor Acacia says.

I feel my heart shatter, the pieces land here in the home of the woman I love. I swallow the lump of emotions forming in my throat.

“Okay,” I manage to get out. Mentor Acacia teleports us to the street, and from there she locates a ley line. Even in the world of magic, traveling by ley line is a strange sensation; it’s as if your body, your entire being melts. Every molecule separates and joins with the magical veins that flow all over this planet. Becoming one with everything, yet being nothing at the same time.

Your mind reduces to only your location, where you’re headed, nothing else. You can’t feel anything in a ley line, besides the bits of magic from all living things, like the blood cells of a giant creature.

Without sensing the passing of time, we travel to the other side of the planet. We reform just outside of IronHenge. It was past midnight in Oleander City, so it’s well into the afternoon here.

Our Arcanium is nestled in a valley in the Altai Mountains, a divide between the western and eastern steppes that overall make up the Eurasian Steppes.

Access to fresh water and tucked away from the eyes of modern civilizations, it’s a place of great natural beauty. Perfect for hiding a magical city.

To a regular eye, one would see an open expanse of grassland and the mountains behind it. But I can see the slight warping around the air where the camouflage hides IronHenge. Similar to seeing heat rise but stuck in a distinct semicircle.

My things are already here, waiting to be carried back home…this is my home after all. Where I should be.

Normally there would be sorcerers on guard, watching from the other side of the invisible wall. Perhaps Mentor Acacia used her considerable influence to get them to turn a blind eye for a time, or maybe she knew the guards' patrol shifts. It doesn’t matter either way I suppose, as long as no one sees the great Acacia has let her apprentice slip away from the Arcanium.

With a wave of her hand, a section of the wall that has guarded this place for millennia opens up.

Given its size, one can see most of the Arcanium from any hill.

IronHenge is a city of multifarious design. When it was being developed, magicians from all over the world brought their cultural backgrounds into their buildings. With the help of spatial magic, we haven’t needed to build up as modern cities do. Then again, there aren’t millions of us living here.

It’s a stark difference to Oleander City, glass and steel no longer dominate the horizon. The earth breathes underneath our feet without miles and miles of concrete and asphalt to suffocate it. The air is pristine, and the weather is controlled.

When I first left IronHenge, I wondered how long it would take me to get homesick; now I can’t stop thinking about the woman I left on the other side of the globe.

We walk along, my things get teleported back to my place with a snap of my fingers.

I should feel some ease being back here, but it’s all I can do to keep the dread pooling in my stomach from consuming me.

My mentor, on the other hand, is relieved. She takes a deep breath in as if the air in Oleander was toxic gas.

I half expect a lecture from her, but I know better.

“Breathe a word of this to no one,” she simply says. As Mentor Acacia turns to face me, the afternoon sun gets caught on her high cheekbones. She stares at me with those ruby-red eyes; in all her decades they've said more than I ever could.

“I told your peers you’ve occupied yourself with your studies; I suggest that you go along with that. Rest, you have lessons tomorrow.”

No doubt she found me because of how much magic I used, similar to how I found the necromancer. I used a large amount, so a rest would be best. Whether this is a mercy on her part, or to show she wants my very best.

Either way, she goes off in her own direction, certain I won’t try leaving.

I start walking home, not in the mood for teleporting.

The streets of IronHenge aren’t particularly busy at this time of day, and few people see me. If they can detect how downtrodden I am or notice my disheveled appearance, no one says anything about it.

These roads that are so familiar to me, the people that I’ve known all my life, the sights, sounds, and smells; they should provide some comfort. But as I walk back I dig my nails into my palms. This pain is what I deserve for what happened to Hollyhock.

And it’s all I can do to keep myself from bursting out into tears as I trod along. I feel the cracks in my heart getting wider the further I walk away from her.

Without actually paying attention I somehow made it home. Before I get to the door it opens and Azalea walks out. A wizard I’ve known for as long as I've lived here. She’s constantly late for something and rushing everywhere. I get a glimpse into her house before she closes the door. She nods at me in greeting before rushing off to whatever it is she has to do.

Homes in IronHenge react to the unique magical signature of a person. Azalea and I share the same building but have completely different homes when we open the door.

I grab the knob and enter my home.

It’s just as I left it. Signs of my current studies are all over the place, open tomes, and bookmarked texts on various afflictions and their treatments. The hardwood floors are illuminated by the round windows, letting in the sunlight when my dark mood doesn’t appreciate it.

My plants are still alive, thanks to the wards I left in place. I did miss them. I missed the way the wood slightly buckled under my weight, though it sounds a bit creakier than I remember.

I missed this place…I just wish I could’ve shown it to Hollyhock.

I look at my bed, my pillows and covers call out to me to get some rest. I should sleep, I can’t feel anything other than the anguish twisting in my chest, but I’m sure my body is exhausted.

But more than that I stink.

I need a bath and it’s probably the only thing in the world that could make me feel better.

I change out of my stinking clothes, too exasperated to put them in the hamper.

It’s only then that I realize I still have Hollyhocks boots on. They still have the signs of the fight, but they’re still good. I take them off and slide them under my bed for safekeeping.

Slipping a simple orange linen dress over my head, that fits a bit snugger than it should, I grab some towels and my basket of hygiene things. Some homes in IronHenge, mine included, have private bathrooms. But I grew up using communal bathhouses, there’s something about them I prefer more than the bathing in my home. Unless I have company over.

But I’m…painfully alone right now. So I head up the road, it’s a short walk.

Bathhouses are some of the largest buildings in IrongHenge, this one “The Elephants Ears” happens to be the biggest. It’s fairly popular, but that doesn’t factor into why it’s my favorite one.

As soon as I step in, the familiar warmth embraces me, and the smell of cleaning sundries meets my nose. Stepping into the atrium where the largest baths are, I gaze up at the dome ceiling. At the center is a huge skylight with a kaleidoscopic effect on it to sprinkle a myriad of colors on the waters. Like the roads outside, there aren’t very many people here. Most bathe in the morning or evening. A few of the people that tend the waters and the various services here mill about. There is a small group of elderly people sitting in tepid water, chatting about something.

Magic, the more it is used, can have certain age-defying effects on the body. Then some spells directly slow the aging process. Magicians with low magical capabilities forego such spells, as it requires a near-constant flow of magic. And there are those that may or may not have the magical depth for it but choose to refrain. Whatever their reasons are their own. One could ask a witch to cast the spell on them, but to put the spell on someone else takes a great deal of magical energy.

In any instance, they sit and enjoy each other’s company and life, I suppose; while aging with grace.

In the time I spent in Hollyhock’s world, I often saw and heard how afraid of aging non-magical people are. From what I’ve seen of how their world works, I can’t exactly blame them. I have no right to either. Here, a person doesn’t have to earn a living. Homes are given freely, there’s always enough food; and IronHenge, out of all the Arcaniums, is the most secure. The same cannot be said for the rest of the world.

The elderly group pause their chat to greet me, some asking each other if I’d been here in some time. I nod politely back at them, not in the mood to talk.

I head to the back, undress, and shower off the sweat, blood, and dried bits of viscera that decided to be an unpleasant souvenir. I half expected to discover small bruises or cuts but there are none.

Cleaner than I was before, I go to my favorite pool. The water is hot, even by magical beings' standards. I’m not sure why they even have it, I’ve hardly ever seen anyone sit in it for more than a second. Maybe they made it just for me.

The water cradles me up to my shoulders as I dip down. This particular pool has a natural rock formation instead of a tiled bench. The heat of the water enveloping me reminds me of the fire I let consume me earlier. The rage I let take over. Thinking about it makes me tense up. I dig my nails in my arms remembering why I got so fucking angry; for Hollyhock. Seeing her lying there, about to die for me.

My nails break the skin but I don’t care.

Then I think about how I left her in her apartment, powerless to do anything to help. Tears well up in my eyes at the still fresh image in my mind of her screaming in pain. I can’t even imagine what she must have thought of me at that moment. Beyond the pain and confusion, what did she think of me standing there; just watching her?

Some people come in, peeking up from my sorrow, and realize I know them. I’d really rather not talk to anyone right now. I sink further down into the water as my tears become too much to hold back. My hands unclench and move to hold my shoulders while I cry, my tears immediately mixing with the bath.

There isn’t anything in the world I wouldn’t give to be held by Hollyhock right now. Not that I’ve earned such a blessing. My trembling hands make a poor substitute for the assassin’s strong, steadfast ones. But they’re all I have for now. I curl up and let out a scream as grief breaks my heart more and more with each passing second.

Not a soul hears me. No one to comfort me while I drown in this agony I brought upon myself. I could just let the water fill my lungs to douse the inferno burning inside me. End this horrible day more peacefully than it began.

But that won’t make things right. It won’t fix things and it won’t get me answers.

The need for that is greater than any self-pity that threatens to devour my soul.

It has to be.

I finally come up for air.

There’s work to be done.

I finish bathing and head home. If people say hello to me on the way, I don’t notice.

With no time to stop, I quickly unpack all my things and start selecting tomes to research from. I pause briefly at the sight of the stone I used to detect the necromancer, but let it stay by itself in a trunk.

Anything that contains information on cerebral magic, cognitive functioning, neural pathways, and especially any magic that is memory-related gets laid out on my desk. I have a mostly tangential collection of texts of what I need, but it’ll do for now.

I copied Hollyhocks memories, the time we spent together, but I’ve never seriously studied the brain in relation to magic. What I did was like a magical snapshot of her brain and what Mentor Acacia did was like altering a photo; blacking out certain parts.

This form of magic isn’t often needed in witchery, it’s curious that Acacia knew how to do it. The Copper Cloves are the main authority on such things. Due to the nature of their work, they are an opaque organization, steeped in secrecy. It’s unlikely they’ll share the finer details of memory magic with me.

Even if I understood this magic better, it needs direct contact with the person in question. Which is a problem since I’m over 6,000 miles away from Oleander City.

I start writing down notes on anything I find useful along with a rudimentary list of texts I’ll need to research later. The hours slip away as I delve into my readings.

A disturbing fact I learned about the memory spell is that one affected by it will experience immense pain when they try to think about what they’ve lost. This negative reinforcement curtails any further probing. Here, we all know about the spell and willingly submit to it. But it’s only for one thing and we know not to think about it. Hollyhock won’t know about it, she won’t know about magic at all. She’s going to wonder what she forgot and she’ll be in pain each time.

Just as I’m about to exhaust the last tome I have, I hear a knock at the door.

Snapping out of my research haze I go to answer it. Who else should I see on the other side than my friend Barlow? He has a wide, bright smile for me that I’m in no mood for.

He, as a living being, couldn’t be more handsome. His skin is so dark he almost looks purple in certain lights. With facial features that seemed to be carved from obsidian and bubblegum pink hair; his is a bright soul that shines through any darkness that hangs over me.

I’d rather be miserable, the idea of me being cheered up while Hollyhock is hurt and confused sends needles into my spine. Then again, it’d be easier to lasso the moon than stop Barlow from brightening up someone’s day. Even this late at night.

“HAZEL! It’s been so long!” He exclaims while coming in for a hug. It’s a brief one as he pulls back and looks deep into my eyes.

He’s wearing a deep blue dress, not at all traditional given its asymmetrical design and slim fit. There are scenes of nature depicted on it. A deer sipping from a lake, a phoenix in flight over a grassland, a guliti fish swimming in a river, and various other things. The garment is enchanted so the embroidery moves. The deer looks up suddenly as the phoenix flies over its head. The fish swims and avoids rocks along the way. And though I can barely see them because of the dress’s length, he wears his favorite pair of sneakers. They’re jet black with gold leaves that decorate them and pulse with light. The interval at which they pulse is linked to his heartbeat, I suspect.

His eyes are gold like a polished coin, they shimmer as he examines me.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. I turn to walk back to my tomes.

“Quite a bit,” I answer. Invited in, he steps inside and looks around. Without even looking at him I can sense the gears working in his head.

“Your mentor said you’ve been studying rigorously.” He looks at my desk, the many open tomes support that claim. Then he notices the crates I unpacked my things from. “But something tells me there’s more to the story than that.”

I close one of my texts and briefly look at my notes. I’ll need much more research material.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asks in a way that’s far less rude than the question suggests. I look him over.

There’s no point in lying to him, even if he didn’t know me from years of friendship, he’s a Seer, and a very good one; for his age. Seers can gaze through others' intentions, knowing the objective truth. More powerful Seers can see past events that occurred and even certain future ones. The magic behind that isn’t something I’m deeply familiar with, but I know it has something to do with detecting large amounts of magical energy.

I motion for him to sit and he obliges, sitting on the edge of my bed. I scratch my head as I think about the best way to tell the story.

Perhaps as an influence from my time with Hollyhock, I check the windows and around the rooms to see if there’s any possible way someone could be listening in. Barlow looks at me quizzically the whole time.

When I’m satisfied I sit back in my chair.

“Girl, what is the problem?” He asks once more.

“What I’m about to tell you, you can’t share with anyone, got it?”

“Who would I tell?”

“You could tell Hellebore,” I suggest. He was hot and heavy with him last I heard. Barlow dismisses the thought with a wave.

“That’s over with, he couldn’t handle my “Seerness,” he says with air quotes. “So what is it?”

I have missed Barlow too. He’s seen me through dark times, back when my life was…simpler. When my world was just IronHenge, now it’s much bigger and far more complex. If I tell him, I’ll be bringing him into this world too.

Hollyhock, amazing as she was…is, didn’t do it alone. She has a support system, and people she can depend on. And something tells me I’ll need one as well.

I look Barlow in his eyes again. I may not be a Seer, but I need his truth desperately.

“Can I trust you?” I ask.

Barlow likes to experiment with lots of different styles. One day he’ll be dressed in a Baroque art deco suit, the next a South American-inspired outfit. He’ll bounce around with hairstyles and colors on a whim. But he always has on his gold jewelry. His wide plate ear cuffs that track the stars, and a lip cuff. It has no magic in it, but it still looks nice.

He takes them off and holds them in his right hand. This is his way of showing a promise.

“You can trust me, Hazel.”

I let out a deep breath.

“I left IronHenge,” I start off. His jaw drops in sheer disbelief.

“YOU-” he adjusts his volume “you did?!”

I nod.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“You were with Hellebore at the time, I didn’t want to shake things up. Besides, I didn't think I’d be gone so long.”

“Where did you go? Please tell me you went to Moscow!”

I shake my head.

“Moscow? No, I picked a place at random. I wound up in a place called Oleander City.”

“I’m guessing things didn’t turn out great from your haunted face.”

“No, no it didn’t.”

“Tell me everything, don’t leave a detail out.”

I start telling him the whole story. From meeting Hollyhock, finding out what she does, exploring her city, discovering the reanimated man walking around, uncovering an organ stealing scheme, unveiling a threat to IronHenge by way of a necromancer’s army of the undead, fighting said army with Hollyhock.

Watching Barlow’s expressions change during my story cheers me up somewhat.

I end the story with Mentor Acacia coming to get me.

“And…here I am again,” I finish. Barlow runs his hand over his hair. He stares off into the distance to process what I’ve told him.

“Seed of Sobek.” He rubs his jaw and puts his jewelry back on. “I mean, damn girl!”

I can only nod in agreement at the situation.

“Okay, let’s weigh the matter.” He holds out both his hands. “You left the Arcanium without permission, made contact with a non-magical human, and told them about magic. That’s not good.” He lowers his left hand and raises the right. “You uncovered a plot to attack IronHenge and stopped it. That’s good.” He lowers the right hand. “But you have no proof of that. Not good.” He makes the necessary adjustment.

“You pissed off Acacia, one of the most respected figures in IronHenge. Bad, very bad. But she also didn’t tell anyone about it.” He closes his hands. “Ambiguous. I’m not sure what to think about that. It’s definitely not good, her keeping a secret like that. But at least you won’t get in trouble with the council. That’s something.”

“It’s not something I’d need right now.”

“Then we also have the fact that as a result of meeting you, Hollyhock’s life might very well be ruined.”

“I feel terrible enough about it, you didn’t have to say it like that.”

Barlow puts his hands up.

“I’m just stating the facts as they are. Sorry.”

We sit in silence for a while.

“Sounds like you really care for her,” Barlow says. I bite my lip and nod. It felt strange to tell him about Hollyhock's mental issues, it’s not something I should share but it’s relevant to the situation.

“I do. And I just fucked up her life and left.”

“If there’s one thing I know about you Hazel, it’s that you don’t just leave things. You’ll make it right if it’s the last thing you do.”

“Thanks.” I wish I could fully believe him. He picks up on the shred of doubt.

“I’m serious. Look at what you’ve already done by yourself.”

“I wasn’t by myself, Holly was with me.”

“I meant magic-wise, but okay.” Barlow leans back into my bed. “She must be something else. For you to be singing her praises like this.”

“She’s more than something. She’s…” I can’t find the words that’ll do her justice. He throws up his hands.

“You’re no Soothsayer, but I get what you’re trying to say. We have to help her so what’re we going to do?”

“We?”

“Oh come on, you tell me a heart wrenching story like that and expect me to say you’re on your own? You couldn’t stop me from helping you!”

I crack a smile.

“Thanks, Barlow. What would I do without you?”

“Probably go insane and end up as a warning tale for young ones.”

“You might be right there. The way I see it, this is a two-pronged issue; I may have stopped that necromancer, but I couldn’t find out why they wanted to attack IronHenge.” Barlow shrugs.

“Why does it matter?”

“They made an army. Someone doesn’t just do that because of a minor issue. Who’s to say that it won’t cause someone else to do the same? If I don’t figure out what made them so angry, something like this could happen again.”

“That’s a good point. It’s odd that no sorcerers were investigating.”

“The necromancer was careful, living in a large city and not causing enough trouble to alert the Arcaniums. Still, I think someone should’ve noticed a magician missing, especially one that powerful.”

“That’s also true. Okay, so we need to do some digging around, but I think that’s a problem that can wait a bit. Every day you can’t give Hollyhocks memories back is potentially a mental health bomb.”

“She’s already deeply concerned about losing her mind. Not being able to remember more than two weeks is not going to do her any favors. The sooner I can get back to her, the better.”

“But Acacia is definitely going to keep a close eye on you. She’s not exactly going to let you just let you leave again.”

“She didn’t report me, she must have a reason for it. Not that she’ll share it with me.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re her favorite student ever and she’ll let you have one misadventure.” I scoff.

“I’m her pride and joy, can’t have me traipsing around the globe, mixing with all the little people,” I counter. The disconnect between Mentor Acacia coming to get me and not turning me in is very curious. Perhaps there’s something there that I can use as leverage or maybe I shouldn’t push my luck with it.

I don’t like this; there’s something I’m not seeing. Something happening just behind me, but I can’t turn my head to look. Not yet at least. It bothers me, but I’ll just let it be for now.

“If, and that’s a big if, there’s some sort of conspiracy; it’ll be better if we don’t make any noise about it yet,” I put forward. “We need some proof of…something. Whether it’s about whatever pissed the necromancer off, or why Mentor Acacia didn’t turn me in. One of those things, and we can get some momentum into the other. Maybe.”

“This isn’t going to be easy, is it?”

“Hollyhock made it seem easier to be honest. But she did kidnap, threaten, and kill a guy.”

Barlow nods.

“And this is the woman you need to help?”

“She fought for me when she had no reason to. Our world, our Arcaniums meant nothing to her, she still risked her life. She-”

“I was joking. Gods and Goddesses, you are smitten.”

“I just…she’s already been through a lot. The thought I’d destroy her whole life while I get to go on just…makes me disgusted with myself.” Before I start crying again, Barlow lays a hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you to her,” he says, giving a comforting squeeze. He looks out the window. “It’s late. Get some sleep, we’ll work on this tomorrow.”

I squeeze his hand back in agreement. Barlow walks to the door but lingers there for a moment.

“Floribunda would love that you’re still willing to do the right thing,” he says. The comment is left hanging in the air for a moment, then he leaves.

Floribunda.

I haven’t heard that name said aloud in a long time. Feels like I’m the only one who still remembers her some days.

Her death hangs heavy on my mind now. Another life ended because of me.

I won’t let Hollyhock be added to the list of deaths caused by my arrogance.

It’s years too late for me to do anything for Floribunda, but I can still help Holly.

They both deserve better.

I rub my eyes, unsure of how I’m still awake. Won’t be able to find out the truth and set everything right if I collapse.

I lie in my bed. It’s familiar, and soft, but conspicuously cold by myself.

With how much magic I had just used, I know I should be exhausted; but I’m not.

Nothing’s the way it should be. I don’t even know myself as well as I thought I did.

I have an inordinate amount of questions and not nearly enough answers.

But I’ll make sense of all this. I have to.

Minutes tick away as I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. It’s a slowly moving map of the stars, they provide neither answers nor comfort to me.

I reach over the side and grab the boots I took with me. They’re covered in filth from our fight, nicked and scuffed in places, but they’re still strong and can protect what’s important; just like Holly. The covered-in-filth part doesn’t sound that nice when I think about it but the point is these boots are all I have of her to keep. I probably shouldn’t have them on top of my clean dress but I don’t care. I hug the boots close to my chest and imagine they’re Hollyhock. They lack her warmth but strangely do give a modicum of comfort.

I close my eyes but open my mouth.

“I swear, Hollyhock.” I hug her boots tighter. “I’ll fix this, I’ll get your memories back.”

There’s no way for her to hear this vow, it might be a sad attempt to make myself feel better, but I need her to know this; somehow, some way I need her to know I won’t stop.

“I swear I’ll get back to you, so please hold on. If not for me, then for yourself. You deserve that much. Please hold on.”

I repeat the promise to myself and to her again and again. Instead of the woman I love, sleep finds me somewhere in the night. I drift off but solidify in my mind what I’ll have to do.

Find out why the necromancer wanted to attack IronHenge, why Mentor Acacia didn’t turn me in, and get back to Hollyhock to restore her memories.

Even if I have to burn this Arcanium down to do it.

Ch. 22 End