It… it was all too much!

Lorelei felt that, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t gather her thoughts, and her feelings were all like aspen tufts strewn by the merciless winds. Noah, the Red Hands, her father and sister, her own predicament as a very fake duchess and a very real nesvet, it all came down crashing on her like an avalanche, and she was that one lone tree trying to defy its destined demise.

‘Maybe I should just run away? Far away from Norden and Limeria. Master said that Shareeba is a nice place. Or I could travel even further east to the uncharted lands? Or maybe I should go to the Zirath Archipelago? Yes. There, it’s always spring and they also have all kinds of herbs and spices to study…’

She played with the thought, knowing full well that she wouldn’t act upon it. Her heart belonged in Norden. And, literally, her soul as well. Would Yanosh’s magic that faked her core last even beyond Norden’s shores? From what she had read about the Binshi’s hexes, some were area-bound, others, like the protection talismans - object-bound. It all depended on where the magic drew its power from. Some drew power from the castor, others, like the Star of Norden, from both castor and user, and there were also ones that drew power from the surrounding land itself. Half of her false core consisted of the dhrowghost’s miasma, which, despite its malicious nature and horrid origin, was close in essence to the spirits of the land. The other half was Shana’s power. How far from them could she be for the magic to continue working properly? Maybe indefinitely? Maybe just outside Norden’s shores? She had no intention to test that out, and her mental state was not good enough yet to meet with Shana and have a discussion.

Pondering like that, Lorelei wandered more or less blindly through Ildemar, letting her feet guide her to the Misty Garden and her friends. She absentmindedly received and returned the greetings and well-wishes of the servants and guards. Doing so, she hardly had a chance to see the person standing in her way just around the corner before their bodies roughly collided. Dry rustling and loud clatter announced the landing of some papers and a wooden board on the marble floor.

“By the Saints! Your Highness!” a youthful, melodious voice exclaimed as two sturdy hands grabbed her, preventing her fall. “Are you alright?”

“Young Master Firmon!” Lorelei blinked, her face inches away from the one of Castor Firmon. The young man’s mortified expression and the lead plummet tucked behind his ear made him look like a scribe’s apprentice caught in mischief.

Steadying herself, Lorelei tried to calm down her rushed breaths.

“I’m sorry, Master Firmon. I didn’t mean to-”

“No need to apologize, my lady.” The young man let go of her and shyly scratched his head for a moment before bending down to gather the sheets he had dropped. “I was also not paying attention to my surroundings. I am ashamed to say it but the castle’s defense charms are so fascinating that I sometimes shut out everything around me while studying them.”

“Defense charms?” Lorelei’s brows rose and uneasiness coiled in the pit of her stomach. The last time the youth had tried to use his gifts as an acolyte of Saint Oronte the Seer it had resulted in him remaining as hostage in Ildemar.

Seeing her expression, it wasn’t difficult for Castor to deduce her thoughts.

“Don’t worry, my lady. This time I’m doing this under the Duke’s orders. I’m helping Kush-turgan Akasha in repairing the damages on the castle’s defenses.”

“I see.” Lorelei breathed a sigh of relief, secretly thankful that the young man’s very useful gift was weak enough to detect Yanosh’s hex on her soul. “How are the repairs going?”

“Alas, tedious,” he chuckled, organizing his notes. “There are literally thousands of charms embedded in these walls. I’m trying to describe what I am able to see so that we can analyze it with the Kush-turgan and judge whether the seals have been tampered with… Which proves difficult.”

“You don’t seem too distraught.”

“Guilty as I might be, I’m enjoying it.” He scratched his head and blushed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “For the first time, I can use my gifts to the fullest. And honestly, the magic surrounding this castle is so fascinating!”

“Is it?” Lorelei dared to glance in his notes and saw some unexplainable scribbles and geometric shapes. “I too am now curious. If it is alright with you, could you tell me more? How exactly do you see magic?”

“Oh, gladly, my lady. But I don’t want to be taking too much of your time. You were in a hurry earlier.”

“Just going to the Misty Garden, nothing much. If your schedule allows it, maybe you could escort me there and tell me on the way?”

“Of course, my lady!” The young nobleman bent down and kissed her hand shyly.

The two walked slowly, shoulder by shoulder, down the spacious hallway. Lorelei allowed Castor’s narration to engulf her, drowning her worries and dark thoughts in his contagious curiosity.

“Honestly,” the young man smiled apologetically, “I too don’t know the exact scope of my powers. That’s why I wanted to go to the Capital and learn more about it from the Temple Library and the priests there. Alas… I don’t think contacting them in the feasible future would be possible. I love my neck too much to allow the Duke to chop it off.”

“He isn’t like that!” Lorelei retorted impulsively but saw the sparks in Castor’s eyes.

“He is quite serious when it comes to someone jeopardizing Ildemar’s safety and the peace of Norden. And I understand him completely. Besides, the fault is with the thief for getting caught, not eith the one who caught him.”

“I’m happy you don’t feel too much animosity towards the Duke.”

“On the contrary!” Castor stopped for a moment, his eyes looking through one of the high windows at the craggy peaks of the mountains. “Is it strange for a bird to feel freer in its cage than in its own nest? Here, I… can be of use for something important. Even grand! In Narta, I’m just a breeding steed with the sole purpose of providing my father with a male heir for House Firmon…”

“Master Castor…” Lorelei touched the young man’s shoulder, unable to find the right words to comfort him.

“I’m sorry, Duchess. I made you uncomfortable.” He laughed and his sunny demeanor returned. “Let us continue on the topic of my powers. As I said, I don’t know all the details, but it seems that I can best see completed magic.”

“Completed magic?”

“Yes. Kush-turgan Akasha has explained to me the way the Binshi cast magic and how they use souls and sometimes soul dust. To me, those are just blurry specks of light, and there needs to be a large enough quantity of them for me to be able to see. But I can clearly see the ‘after effects’ a magic invocation has. The way it shapes and twists the fabric of the world. Although, seeing magic and knowing what this magic is meant to do are two separate tasks, of which the second I’m failing miserably…”

Engulfed in conversation, the two slowed down their stride. Lorelei had a million questions to which Castor was more than happy to give an answer. For a moment, she forgot this was Ildemar and the young man at her side was her husband’s hostage. It felt like she was back in Sefis in Master Levi’s study and the two were having one of their many discussions about medicine, alchemy, or natural philosophy. Alas, their blissful time was cut short by the dissonant chords of a quarrel.

As they approached the entrance to the Misty Garden, the shouts became louder and a crowd of curious servants barred their way.

“How dare a mere maid order me around!?” Pricilla’s shrill voice irritated Lorelei’s ear.

“A-and who are y-you to pluck flowers from Lady Nelini’s garden?” Although slightly stuttering, Milly didn’t give up without a fight.

Even this little was enough to give Lorelei a clear picture of what to expect. She squinted and pinched the base of her nose before stepping forward.

“Let me through!”

The moment her voice sounded, the wall of servants crumbled as all rushed to the sides, creating a way for her. With a drumming heart, Lorelei steadied her gait as she marched on to face her sister and the ensuing chaos.