(Discontinued) Wizenfog

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Reign of Tiryam Edgarro

The City of Fairrod, Astoria Grove

Orion Manor

Year 736, Winter

He left before she could protest. Huffily, Frey tugged on her boots and pulled one of the tunics Harrod had gotten for her on over a white cotton shirt.

"Now he comes," she grumbled to herself as she fetched her cloak from its hook. "Not at any sane time of day but in the dead of night. I reckon he really is mad." Frey fastened the metal buttons and left her room.

Grouchy though she was from being woken up so abruptly, Frey couldn't help feeling eager. Was she starting her lessons finally? Orithin was slipping down the steps with those long legs of his and she had to hop down two at a time to match his pace. He steadied her when she nearly tripped over the cloak's length.

"Careful," he said in a low voice.

"It wasn't on purpose," she replied hotly.

He put a finger to his lips, drawing her eyes to them. "Don't want to wake the house."

With a start, Frey realized it was the first time they had spoken properly in weeks. "No, we don't," she told him happily.

"What are you so happy about?" In the dark, she couldn't see his face but the lilt in his voice told her he was smiling.

She shrugged.

They made their way outside. Though Fairrod didn't see snowy winters—indeed, snow was a mythical thing she hadn't even heard of before last week when she read about it—the nights tended to be chilly. Frey shivered and moved closer to Orithin, letting his taller frame shield her from the wind.

"We're here," he said at last, when they were a fair ways away.

"Where are we?" she murmured, looking around. It was about several hundred yards away from the house but in the dark she couldn't make heads or tails of anything. If she had come here alone she would have gotten lost.

"This place is heavily protected," he answered, sitting down on the ground. "Charmed," he added. "Any spells or magic we do here won't leave the bounds—about a hundred yards in any direction. It's also soundproof." Orithin shouted the spell for light and the clearing brightened considerably. Frey winced at the sudden outburst.

"Is there a reason we had to do this at night?" Frey asked, plopping down in front of him. She was pleasantly surprised to see that it wasn't as cold here. It was like the gardens behind the manor—somehow warm and touched by a light breeze reminiscent of spring. Suspecting it was magic, Frey didn't question it. Her hands played absentmindedly with the blades of grass around her.

"This is a good time as any," he replied, shrugging. "I like to do magic when the world around me is asleep. It's my favorite time of the day. I should say night." He held out his hand. "Your right palm, if you please." Frey, blushing, put her hand in his palm-up and waited. He stared at it intently and said, "Inpertendene." Swirls of blue light shone from her palm, wrapping lazily around her arm, stopping just short of her elbow.

Frey watched in amazement, entranced by the twirling threads of azure, laced with shadows. She was surprised to see disappointment on Orithin's face and tried to calm her sinking stomach.

"This is why I had you meditate," he sighed, releasing her arm. The light vanished.

"What's wrong?" Frey frowned, turning her hand over this way and that. No traces of the magic was left. "What was that spell you used?"