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I was just a child when he saved me from a beast’s maw. I clung to him for three years before he finally relented and took me as his apprentice, promising that I wou- Id be his only one.
thad cherished that promise for three hundred years.
Chapter 1
I had cherished that promise for three hundred years.
Ished my magical protections, letting my mortal body bear the full weight of my vigil on the cold, hard flagstones.
That night, snow began to fall. The flakes melted the moment they touched my skin.
10.38
I knelt there for three days. He never came to see me. In those three days, he held a grand initiation ceremony for Elara. It was an honor I had never received.
On the third night, I used my sword to pull myself to my feet. The senior knight was standing behind me. “Sister, don’t be willful.”
He reached out to help me, but I dodged his hand.
He was the one who broke his promise first.
I limped down the mountain into the blizzard, letting the skills and spells he had taught me dissipate one by one.
Just before I lost consciousness, I knocked on the proprietress’s door.
When I awoke, the chill was gone, replaced by the sweet, cloying fragrance of a woman’s chambers. I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through my body.
The proprietress’s voice came from behind the bed hangings. “Don’t move yet. Your legs were nearly crippled. You need to rest.”
I looked down at my numb legs as the memories flooded back.
Mistress,” I said, “I want to learn the arts of the Crimson Cabal.”
She laughed. “To cast aside three hundred years of magic just like that… you are a cruel one, little enchantress, even to yourself.”
For three hundred years, I had trained day and night, just to avoid seeing disappointment in his eyes. The hardships I had endured were far worse than this. The
image of his gaze on Elara flashed in my mind, and a bitter smile touched my lips.
My three hundred years meant less than her few days.
Once I recovered, I stayed at the tavern. I helped the proprietress with the guests and practiced my new arts. Within three months, my power had already surpassed the level I had reached after three hundred years on the Path of Apathy. Even the proprietress praised me as a once–in–a–millennium talent.
Whenever she did, I would smile shyly and ask, “So, when can I perform my first rite?”
“Have you found someone who stirs your heart?”
shook my head. In my time at the tavern, I had seen many handsome and powerful men, but
“Then wait a little longer.”
none had moved
- me.
I was confused. Why did I have to wait for someone I desired? Was that a requirement for the Cabal’s rites?
The proprietress beckoned me closer and whispered in my ear, “A carnal rite, at its core, is a matter of passion. Naturally, you should choose someone you desire. That is where the pleasure lies!”
I nodded, not quite understanding. It was a pity. I hadn’t felt that spark in a long time.
Until the day I saw the Warlock, Zephyr, dressed in crimson robes. And following him was none other than the Hierophant, Lyren.
My heart, after a long silence, began to beat again.
