A single snowflake landed on the cover of Kian’s book in his lap, and he gave a start, as if being pulled from deep thoughts. He glanced up at Adrissu, his face reddening again, and he stood quickly.
“I, uh, I better get back inside,” he muttered, tucking the book into his cloak. Part of Adrissu was disappointed, but at least this time Kian hadn’t told him to “fuck off”, so that had to count for something.
“Of course,” Adrissu said, nodding and pulling up the hood of his own coat. “Stay dry.”
Kian had turned to go, but glanced back at him. Their eyes met, and he hesitated before stammering, “You too, Headmaster.”
Then he darted away, and Adrissu watched him hurry up the opposite path for a moment, before continuing on his way.
That had been... good, he thought. Progress. He stifled a grin in the high collar of his coat. Healwaysgot what he wanted, eventually.
Chapter Four
Bythemiddleofthe second term, well into spring, Adrissu was confident that he had found just about everything there was to know about the study of transmutation throughout history and into the modern age. Still, none of it had helped him puzzle out the actual runes and rituals that were used unsuccessfully by Starck, despite his handful of experiments. It might be easier to start from scratch, he decided, than to figure out what didn’t work and extrapolate from that.
It was during one of these experiments, down in his lair, that he felt Vesper startle from where she lay coiled amongst his hoard. He frowned, looking toward the cavern uncertainly, but remained unmoving until a distinct thought emanated from her—something different. Not as urgent as danger, but still unusual. Carefully, he set aside his work and walked to his hoard, his small footsteps echoing through the cave network that had been carved to house his much larger form.
“What is it?” he asked. Vesper had slithered over to peer curiously at a box pressed up against a stone wall. She glanced at him, then looked back down at the box. His scowl deepened as he recognized it: the small wooden chest where he had stored the large amethyst that housed the soul of Lorsan, Braern’s ex-husband, whose soul he had removed in his experiments with soul transference to determine whether the ritual would work on a sentient being.
It had remained there undisturbed for over a hundred years, but now the lid of the box was open. When he stepped closer to peer into it, he could see that what was once a large, cloudy amethyst had broken into several smaller chunks. The faint light that had emitted from within, evidence of the soul’s presence, was not visible.
“Strange,” Adrissu muttered, more to himself than to Vesper, then cautiously he touched one of the pieces before picking it up to inspect it more closely. It looked now like a perfectly mundane stone. There was no sign of the soul housed inside.
“Did it break just now?” he asked, looking back down at Vesper. The massive snake shook her head.Like this, she thought at him. It must have happened sometime earlier, when the lair was empty—and it must have split apart with some force to break the lid off, so he would have heard if he had been present. But he hadn’t been down here in a few days, so there was no telling when, exactly, it might have occurred.
What did it mean? There was no evidence anyone had been here and disturbed anything; only another dragon could have safely made it into his lair from the cliffside entrance, but he had not sensed another dragon in a century or more. Had Lorsan’s soul forced itself out of the stone where Adrissu had trapped it? There was no body for it to return to—the elf had long been dead—so if it had freed itself, it would have departed to wherever elven souls went when the body expired. Perhaps there was some time limit to the soul containment, a decay to the efficacy of the spell over so many years. It might be worth trying to replicate the phenomenon just to make sure. Adrissu had found it amusing to keep around, but if anyone more important were to be kept in stasis in such a way, knowing that time limit would be imperative.
He added it to his mental list of things that he would eventually research, investigate, and experiment with; then he cleaned up the remnants of the crystal, threw out the broken box, and resumed his transmutation experiments. There would be time to get to it all someday, but his transmutation efforts were his sole focus for now. Kian would only be a student for so long.
Adrissu did not speak to Kian again until the summer. Their one stilted conversation in the previous winter had been promising, but Kian did not approach him again, and Adrissu decided it was prudent to let their next encounter be on the other man’s terms. But Kian was busy; his grades were above average, and his instructors all seemed to like him, which pleased Adrissu. His mate had started his first lifetime with no magical prowess to speak of, and was now not only enrolled in the Academy, but excelling. He wondered if Ruan could have believed what he would one day be capable of. The thought was bittersweet, so he didn’t linger on it for long.
Adrissu had spent nearly all his time studying transmutation, when he was not busy with other tasks needed to keep the school functioning; and by the beginning of Kian’s second year at the Academy, he had compiled enough research and done enough of his own study that he thought himself capable of performing a lecture for his students. He had given a few such seminars throughout the decades on topics that interested him, but weren’t sufficiently substantial to justify an entire months-long class. So when he scheduled the seminar and explained that it would be regarding transmutation, the usual instructors for the subject were very enthusiastic. They highly encouraged all students specializing in transmutation to attend, and students in other tracks were also welcome, of course.
The day of the seminar, Adrissu sat and watched the lecture hall slowly fill with students, certain that Kian would come. Students trickled in for a quarter of an hour beforehand, then in the last five minutes, more arrived in a steady stream. But still he did not see Kian. He would come, wouldn’t he? Transmutation was the entire reason he was attending the Academy. A special seminar on fresh developments in the field would be something he could not afford to ignore, even if Adrissu was teaching. He had thought their last conversation was a sign that Kian’s initial hostility toward him had faded with time, but maybe he had been mistaken after all. Had he forgotten so much about his mate in the short time they’d been apart?
The clock chimed, and the chatter of students quieted down, knowing the seminar was set to begin on the hour. Adrissu hesitated, eyes lingering on the door, before clearing his throat and standing to address the auditorium. Disappointing as it would be if Kian did not show, he had an obligation to the students who had.
“Welcome,” he said, eyes scanning the crowd as if he could somehow find Kian amongst them, even though he knew he wouldn’t. “As you may know, I am Headmaster Adrissu Rolastra. I have studied the nature of magic itself in various forms for many years, longer than any of you have been alive. As Headmaster, I haven’t conducted a full class in quite a while, but when something strikes my fancy, I may give a presentation or seminar, such as this. In recent months I have been conducting experiments on the nature of transmutation—”
The door of the lecture hall creaked as it opened, cutting him off. It seemed every set of eyes followed his own to glance at the late arrival. Kian’s shock of red hair was the first thing he saw, then the boy’s disgruntled expression, color rising in his face as he realized everyone’s attention was on him. He turned, closing the door slowly so it wasn’t as loud. Adrissu stifled a grin and continued as evenly as he could manage.
“That is, I’ve been conducting experiments and research into the nature of transmutation, exploring its limits. I’m eager to share what I’ve learned with you, as it isn’t anything covered in a normal transmutation class or tome. I don’t profess to be a transmutation expert, but I haven’t seen this research replicated anywhere else, so make of that what you will.”
Kian had shuffled into the back row, but Adrissu could still make out the frown on his features, frustrated and embarrassed. Adrissu imagined he hadn’t planned to come—had argued with himself and tried to resist the force of nature that drew them together—only to succumb to his own curiosity. In all likelihood, there was an endless list of reasons why he might run a bit late, and Adrissu wouldn’t be surprised if a few more late students snuck in late. But the thought of Kian standing flustered and angry with himself behind the door for seconds, minutes, before finally flinging it open in a frenzy, was appealing in a strange way.
But that was a distraction for another time. Gathering his thoughts, he flicked his wrist to summon an illusory diagram of the runes that he’d been studying, plastering a smile on his face that would have been scholarly, if not for his singular focus on Kian in the back row.
“Let’s begin.”
The seminar was well-received. Adrissu lingered in the lecture hall for nearly an hour after it was done, speaking with students and answering questions. Every time he glanced up, though, Kian was still sitting in the back corner, eyes downcast as he waited. Whatever he wanted of Adrissu, clearly he intended to speak to him alone.
The tension was delicious, so Adrissu didn’t rush through any conversations and answered every question that was brought to him as thoroughly as he could. By the time the last group of transmutation students had said their goodbyes and stepped back out of the lecture hall, Kian’s expression was quite sour. But he finally met Adrissu’s gaze and rose from his seat, walking with slow intention down the rows of chairs until he and Adrissu stood only a few feet apart.
“That was a good lecture,” Kian muttered. Adrissu smiled.
“Thank you,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “I hope you found it educational.”
“I told you I didn’t need your help, though,” Kian continued.
