I tried to listen to the glowing feeling in my chest, to see if the warmth expanded in the presence of any Vessel, but it stayed woefully silent each time I was introduced to someone new. Nothing stirred within me in their presence—not like that first Pain Vessel I met in the dungeon. I knew it was futile to wait for that feeling, if it ever appeared again, but something inside told me it was right to wait.
“Are you listening, Mage d’Talionis?” the acolyte questioned as we rounded yet another corner before coming to a stop outside one of the many identical dark wooden doors that comprised the Academy.
“Please repeat,” I replied, my tone light but firm. I learned to temper my speech since re-enrolling at the Academy. I saved my words, my smiles, my thoughts, not wanting to give someone else that piece of me, afraid it would be ripped away again.
The acolyte turned to face me, his black robes swirling around his feet.
“This is the last group of Vessels you will have access to. By order of Lord d’Refan, if you do not choose one today, one will be chosen for you and you will enter into a Forced Bond,” he said curtly.
My eyebrows rose a bit at his statement, and I jerked my head in a nod.
The acolyte studied me with hard eyes for a moment before blowing a hard breath of air through his nose.
“I shouldn’t speak out of turn, but I’m going to give you some advice,” he said lowly, leaning his head toward meconspiratorially while also keeping his gaze on the hallway, as if he was afraid of someone eavesdropping on our conversation.
“Lord d’Refan is not a . . . patient man. And he is becoming increasingly disgruntled. It would be wise if you simply picked one for yourself today. Keep your head down and out of his sights.”
I studied the man for a moment, noting the pepper in his brown hair and the deep-set grooves on his forehead and next to his eyes. While I’d only known Lord d’Refan for an incredibly short period of time, I already understood his wrath firsthand. Clearly it was not just a fluke in his character, but more of a permanent design.
I gave the acolyte a small smile that I was certain didn’t reach my eyes.
“Thank you. I will keep that in mind,” I said. The acolyte nodded his head once before placing his hand on the orb next to the door. It recognized his magical signature, which unlocked the wooden door, allowing us to enter.
The room was completely open, devoid of all furniture. Two windows on the opposite wall from the door let in natural light that made the iridescence in the walls, floor, and ceiling sparkle like the stars at night.
It was a beautiful sight. If you didn’t know what lay beneath the floors.
Lounging around the room against any available surface were roughly a dozen Vessels. Some men, some women. Some older, in their thirties and forties. Others were clearly newly-Awakened. Roughly half I could immediately sense had an affinity for Pain, and the remainder for Pleasure.
The low buzz of conversation died as we entered the room, and my eyes scanned each of the Vessels. Searching for something—anything—that would replicate that feeling I had with the Pain Vessel all those months ago.
The longer I looked without speaking to the Vessels, without walking further into the room, the more agitated and uncomfortable the Vessels became.
My heart sank as my eyes continually ran over each individual in the room, desperately pleading with my magic to recognize one of them. To call out to them.
But with each passing minute, it was clear that wasn’t going to happen.
“I heard he was like this,” one of them whispered to another, and they both giggled.
My cheeks pinked at the comment, and I hung my head in shame.
“Remember my suggestion, Mage,” the acolyte whispered to me, his hand on my shoulder.
I was thankful no one in the room could see my eyes at the moment, because, to my utter humiliation and horror, they had filled with tears.
“Lay off him, why don’t you? You don’t know his process.” A loud, confident voice filled the space, and my head shot up of its own accord, searching for the speaker.
A few Vessels grumbled and shifted on their feet—clearly the ones being reprimanded—as I desperately searched for that voice.
Something about it was achingly familiar. Like my soul knew it and sang along with its song.
“Who said that?” I called, my voice surprisingly strong. A note of desperation and excitement wormed its way into my question, despite my best efforts to stay unaffected.
“Here!” A large hand attached to an incredibly muscular forearm shot into the air from the very back of the group.
Someone I hadn’t seen yet?My heart thundered at the prospect, daring to hope.
The group of Vessels shuffled and parted enough so I could see the speaker clearly.
