Lost Time

  On the second day, Theo knew exactly where he was when he woke up. The sun was no longer shining through his window, and he could no longer recall the dream he had prior to waking up, but the profound sadness of the night before still lingered.

  It hurts. It hurts so much, I can’t take it. I feel like I’m going to die.

  He got up, put on the cold coat that had been lying beside him, and looked out at the cloudy, gray sky. A perfect day for rain.

  Grabbing his book bag, he left his room and carried on with his regular morning routine, making as little noise as possible in the silent lodging as he got ready for the day. He had made no plans and didn’t know what he was going to do after waking up so early, especially if it was going to rain later, but he knew one thing for sure—he couldn’t see Em, no matter how much he wanted to at that very moment. He couldn’t talk to Moriya about what had happened. He couldn’t talk to any of his other classmates, least of all Faris.

  Yet he stood outside Faris’s door, head resting on the cold wood, eyes downcast. Slack fist up against the door, ready to knock. Nothing but doubts swirling in his mind, consuming the last of his courage.

  He walked away.

  * * *

  The streets were quiet for once. Weekend mornings were often that way before the afternoon rush, as the earliest stores and stalls opened at ten, and it was currently barely seven in the morning. And while it normally would have been a pleasant change of pace, Theo could not help but be reminded of the silent walk back to their rooms the night before as he slowly made his way down the street toward the central square.

  About halfway there, Theo stopped in the middle of the road, passively looking in front of him. Not a single cart in sight. A few passersby on their morning walks, a MATS individual coming from the other direction in a rush, and a solitary violet state guard standing at the edge of the fountain.

  Dodging the attention of the guard, he took a left into a dark alley. Hood on, head lowered, taking careful, slow steps, he walked over the dirty, discolored rock until he reached an opening in the wall to his left. Warm, rancid. Tainted with blood that could have landed there by sheer coincidence and had nothing to do with his lingering guilt. Dry flowers that hadn’t been touched since his last visit. His single gold piece, hopefully taken by someone who needed it.

  He pulled his hood over his face, stepped into the nook until his back hit the brick, and then gradually slid down into a crouch.

  Do…you guys think we’ll be like this forever?

  I don’t know. Maybe.

  Whaddaya mean you don’t know, Theo? Aren’t you the smarty-pants?

  If he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, Aze.

  Well, I don’t want to be like this forever, Oro.

  What do you say we should do?

  I dunno. That’s why I’m asking you.

  What do you want to do?

  I think it would be fun to work at one of those bakeries. They always smell so good, and sweet things are the best. But you don’t like sweet things, do you, Theo?

  They’re fine.

  What? I thought you didn’t like them!

  Yeah, you always give yours to me! No way!

  Shoulders shaking, he slid his hands over his face and leaned on the icy wall beside him, where the bloodstains were.

  Okay, maybe I don’t like them.

  He hit his head against the stone.

  Hmm, that means we can’t work at a bakery…what do you like, Oro?

  Swords! I like swords!

  Aren’t they dangerous, though? What if you get hurt?

  Again. Again. Again.

  I suppose. But I could use it for good and protect you both, right? I’m the oldest, after all.

  Then…I can do that, too! I can protect both of you boys! I’ll make people pay when they make Theo sad!

  Again and again, as the tears fell. As if that could fix anything, as if it could turn back time, wipe away his regrets. Turn him back into a child, release him from his burdens, let him stay suffering as an innocent child believing that the future was hopeful than grow up and discover that happiness was not a privilege afforded to those who had suffered.

  He could not lessen the pain of others. He could not stop abandoning his friends when they needed him the most. He could not stop himself from letting Ty go. Letting her die. He was still a child trying to find his way. He was too old to use the excuse of being a child anymore.

  Where are you going? What are you working toward? What all this suffering is for?

  He had learned nothing at all. All these years, he had learned nothing.

  Thud.

  * * *

  He stopped by the bakery that Aze liked. It looked more run-down than usual, smaller than he remembered it being. The lights were dark, and he could see no one inside. No smell of fresh bread lingered in the air, no kind woman kneaded bread in the window every day and set out unsold pastries behind the building at closing for kids like him.

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  He stopped by the bookstore he had always admired, the one that had been his answer to the other two children.

  I’d like to work at a bookstore. I could read for the entire day, and I’d never run out of books.

  He found out that it sold tomes when he got older. He’d visit it often with the money Em would give him, but rarely would he ever spend it on anything. The pocket tome on him now was from there, and the memory of the scolding he had received from Em that evening…it was warm.

  * * *

  This time, he didn’t walk up to the house. He stood across the street, admiring it from afar. So big, so grand. So full of warmth. Good memories, bad memories.

  He could still go back. It wasn’t over. He still had a choice.

  Em loved him. Even though Theo didn’t trust him, Em still loved him. Despite being a failure, being a nobody, he still loved him. He gave him a warm bed to sleep in, a safe place to call his. He gave him all the books he could ever dream of, let him go to school. He was the reason he was here today.

  You. It was you who saved me.

  What was Em going to say before Moriya hit him?

  It wasn’t magic. It wasn’t me. It was you.

  With shaky feet and an aching heart, he walked.

  * * *

  An unmarked headstone. Untouched. Purple and white flowers. A burned-out candle.

  No, he did not deserve to speak to her, to kneel where they kneeled.

  * * *

  After walking aimlessly in circles for over two hours, hoping that he’d be able to figure something out, he found himself at the end of a forest path leading to an estate.

  Big, black iron gates. A tall, sturdy fence enclosed the entire property from its entrance, down a dirt path, to a massive mansion at the center that easily dwarfed Em’s residence.

  It reminded me of home. Cold. Full of bad memories we try to convince ourselves were anything but.

  Two guards posted at the front. Commoners, from the looks of it. Possibly with a tome or two hidden away, but other than that, only swords at their side. Spears in hand.

  I heard his father came to get him last night.

  Yes.

  What did he have to lose if they refused? His dignity? His life?

  He inhaled, bit his bottom lip, and walked down the path while reciting a standard combat barrier spell instead of a simple one—his life wasn’t worth nothing to him yet.

  “Good-afternoon,” he called before the guards could even open their mouths to speak.

  Their defensive stances did not change. Instead, one piped up in a rather conversational tone.

  “Good-afternoon. What brings you here today?”

  “I was just taking a walk,” the sorcerer admitted nonchalantly as he advanced, taking in the coldness of the barren estate: white brick, black fences, a brownish-gray path down the middle; a white fountain, some desiccated shrubs, a stable on the side, an unmarked white carriage in front of regal black doors. Not a hint of color.

  “Unfortunately, the path ends here. You should turn back.”

  “Is it just the estate?” he mused.

  “Indeed.”

  Stopping about a carriage length away from the gates, in the middle of the path with his hands in his pockets, Theo felt a stirring in his chest. “Whose is it?”

  The second guard, who hadn’t spoken up yet, was taken aback. “The Faluntide residence, sir. I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

  “So it is…” Theo murmured listlessly, still looking past the gate instead of meeting the guards’ intense gazes. “Do you think I could get in?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Do you think I could get in? I’d like to talk to him.”

  Almost immediately, their attitudes shifted. They stepped forward and blocked the gate, obstructing Theo’s view of the moving carriage in the distance.

  “You should turn back. Lord Faluntide is not expecting anyone today,” retorted the friendly one in a threatening tone now.

  “Please understand that we have nothing against sorcerers,” explained the other. “If you really would like to see him, you can talk to your superiors to arrange a meeting.”

  Theo focused on the latter, voice detached. “Ah…yes. I’m a threat because I’m a sorcerer, aren’t I?”

  “We have nothing against—”

  A chime clanged.

  Doing a double take at the advancing carriage behind them and then at Theo, both guards abruptly began advancing. “Clear the way!”

  With spears dangerously close to his chest and neck, Theo gazed dispassionately at the looming threat from behind the gates. “Just wait,” he whispered, feeling a strange determination where his sense of fear and urgency had been. “Let’s see what he has to say.”

  “This is your final warning. Leave now, or we will use force.”

  Far be it from Theo to harm the guardsmen who were merely doing their job, it couldn’t be helped that not having used magic for so long and the feeling of cold steel digging into his skin after what he had done this morning made it too easy.

  Hands in his pockets, reciting a mischief spell that Em had once used on him, he watched the guards fall into a deep sleep. Their spears unceremoniously clattered onto the ground, as did their bodies, allowing Theo to step over them and face the person who had left his carriage to see what the commotion was.

  “So it’s you.”

  Tall, at least half a head taller than Faris. Muscular and stocky, completely the opposite of his lanky, malnourished son. That silly upward mustache that hadn’t changed from when he had first seen him as a child. Those piercing violet eyes that reminded him of that night. In the darkness, where he could see no color.

  It hurts. It hurts so much, I can’t take it. I feel like I’m going to die.

  Sword by his side, gesturing for another guard who had stepped off the carriage with him to open the gate, the Faluntide patriarch slowly made his way up to the silent student, who was now close enough to smell a scent more unpleasant than the burning flesh of the first sorcerer he had killed.

  “Emrys’s kid. You haven’t changed a bit, you rat. Still not dead in some ditch yet?”

  Blissfully unaware of why the noble cared enough to threaten him with his deep, rumbling voice, Theo shrugged. “And you’ve changed since I last saw you. Finally care enough about your son to step foot in the Academy?”

  “Ha!” roared Lord Faluntide, his eyes wide with sinister amusement. “That’s rich. You think I did that because I cared.” Already towering over him, he tilted his chin up and looked down at Theo. “I have an image to maintain. I can’t have people saying that I left my comatose son to rot in some fake school, not at this stage. Not when MATS is the enemy of the world. We’re going to burn you all to the ground, and the people of Chloris will finally be free, just you wait.” Then, giving Theo no time to reply, he lowered his chin, met his eyes, and smiled menacingly. “Now tell me what you want so I can stop wasting my time.”

  At first, Theo thought about how it would feel to kill him right there on the spot. Did he have a barrier? Was there a sorcerer somewhere, shielding him? How could he so brazenly walk up to him knowing who he was and not be afraid?

  There had been two reasons he had wanted to return to the west, maybe three. One reason had been fulfilled by Em, the second no longer an option. Three…three was a stretch, desperation derived from being unable to process, even now, what had happened that past winter.

  “Did you see someone else with Faris that day in the infirmary?”

  The dignified noble scrunched his brows. Frowned deeply as if unable to comprehend what was being asked. “Yes. There was a disgusting little bitch who was sniveling over him. I had the guards push her away, and she fell right over like a limp doll, imagine that. Pathetic. Truly the only kind of person who’d care if he died.”

  I wonder which of his parents hit him as a kid.

  Why not both?

  The calmness was fading, leaving only the dry acceptance of the sinful world left to them by their predecessors.

  “Did you hear anything that day?”

  “What would it matter if I did?”

  “I need to know.”

  “And why would I tell you?”

  Unwavering, he answered, “Because I’m Emrys’s kid, like you said.”

  Lord Faluntide, too, did not waver. Staring right at Theo, his frown turned into a smile. He raised his hand in a flash to Theo’s neck.

  But not faster than Theo, who slid back, Quickcasting one of the easiest spells in his books.

  Conjure Saber.

  He wordlessly held the sword up to the noble’s throat.

  “Ha, ha, ha.” The laugh that left his enemy’s lips was relaxed, easygoing. He held up both hands, merciless expression unchanging. “You got me.”

  “Tell me what she said.”

  “What are you going to do, kill me?”

  And then, behind Theo, another voice.

  “Kill him.”