“I’ve taken residence in this half of the room”—Felix gestured to the side directly across from the door nearest the singular window—“But this bed and desk are now yours.”
I gazed at my new living situation, slightly surprised at the plush-looking mattress and clean, white sheets. It was larger than I expected, too, and all of the furniture looked well-maintained.
My eyebrows rose a bit as I took in the rest of the space—a small fireplace dominated one wall while a washing basin rested directly next to it.
“We have to use the communal showers and toilets down the hall,” Felix continued while I catalogued each part of our shared space. “We rotate latrine duties every day; ours is the third day of the month. Lucky for you, you just missed it.”
I smiled slightly.
“Why don’t you have a roommate, Felix?”
The older man’s shoulders slumped a bit as he fiddled with the cuff of his tunic.
“We’re generally matched by affinity—it’s easier for training and schedules—but my previous roommate was much younger than me. He was one of the first to be offered a Life Bond, so he now lives with his Bonded two floors above.” A wistfulsmile crossed Felix’s face, and I felt myself softening toward him again. It was clear that Felix was the type of person who enjoyed, maybe even needed, companionship.
“Well, I’m not a Pleasure Mage,” I said as I sank onto the edge of the bed, “but I can promise that I won’t be Bonding anyone in the near future.”
Felix’s eyes brightened and he smiled again.
“That’s . . . wonderful to hear, Torin. I have missed the company.”
Silence fell for a moment before the quirky Pleasure Mage perked up again.
“Oh! We’ll go back downstairs in a bit to get you fitted for your Mage blacks and standard-issue boots.”
Goodbye individuality, hello conformity, I thought bitterly.
“What’s with the black obsession?” I asked, and Felix tilted his head thoughtfully.
“A few reasons, I’d presume. The first being that conformity, sameness, breeds a sense of oneness. An even playing field, so to speak. No one is above another, no matter what life we had before joining the Academy. Second, it’s easier to blend in while on missions. Black is less obtrusive than more traditional colors. Plus, it hides the blood well.” A semi-feral grin overtook his face for a moment, and I nearly laughed at the change in his personality. “It’s also incredibly slimming.” The grin disappeared and he winked lasciviously at me.
This time, I did laugh. Felix chuckled along with me.
“I’m grateful for you, Felix. You easily could have turned on me when the General outed my previous . . . occupation. But you’ve been nothing but accommodating,” I said honestly.
Felix’s mirth disappeared, his lips forming a thin line as he dropped onto his bed.
“I’ve learned over the years that our circumstances or past lives don’t always define us as a person. Everyone deserves asecond, or even third, chance in life. It’s what we do with that gift that truly defines who we are as people,” he said quietly, almost reverently, and I suddenly wanted to know what this man did earlier in life to have this kind of outlook.
“Not all here will be as forgiving as me or the General, make no mistake,” he continued, his bright-brown eyes holding my own. “Many here lost friends, family, lovers to the machinations of the Last Keeper and her generals. The pain is still there; a festering open wound that was never healed or cleaned. I have no doubt that, if given the chance, they’ll take their fear and pain out on you, no matter if you deserve their wrath or not.”
I rolled my lips between my teeth. The fact was, I probablywoulddeserve whatever punishment those who lost someone could dole out. I’d orchestrated dozens of attacks, personally killed hundreds of Vesperan soldiers. My hands were stained a permanent crimson with all the blood I’d spilled.
I’d never regretted my position, or past decisions—until now.
Killing for the Matriarch was easy when it was just a sea of faces—people who would stand in opposition to our desires and way of life. But now, when there were names to faces, stories and desires, it made my breath catch in my chest and sternum ache.
How many fathers had I killed? Mothers? Lovers?
The thought nearly made me sick.
In that moment, I wished I was more like Folami and could tune my emotions out, even shut down to a large extent; hold onto some sort of hate and hurt.
But I couldn’t; I wasn’t wired that way. Soon I knew that Folami’s iciness would melt and the reality of her actions would come crashing down. Hopefully, at that point, we were well away from Vespera and out of the firing range of an angered Warlord.
Or maybe our plans should change completely . . .
I knew Peytor wanted me to make contact immediately, but I needed time. Time to sort through the messy thoughts and emotions that nearly suffocated me upon my arrival.
