Chapter 3

Muggy air enveloped me immediately and a relieved breath of air escaped from my body. I had landed at the same spot I always did when teleporting to the Isles, in the heart of the Temple of Wystia. While other mages teleporting from the mainland to the Isles had to arrive just outside of the Temple, I had the luxury of skipping the ten-minute walk to reach this spot. Even after receiving their gifts, mages were unable to access them inside the Temple, meaning physical presences couldn’t be detected and teleportation straight here wasn’t possible. Inside the Temple, I am the only mage able to use my gifts, I suspect likely due to my strength. Not that there was a lot of action to be had here as it was a place for worship, not warfare.

Every morning, the Solistan’s gather here to pray, to acknowledge the Goddess Wystia and to give thanks for their gifts. As a trainee, I was forced to come here with everyone else and follow this ritual. Sure, I was thankful for my magic, but did I really need to worship the Goddess every day to show my gratitude? I wasn’t sold on the notion then, and I still wasn’t now.

The centre of the Temple hadn’t changed at all since the first time I saw it. The large room looked like an amphitheatre, with a flat, central area enveloped within an ascending circular rock formation that acted as seats. They were able to hold up to three hundred people, which was a bit excessive, really, considering when I was gifted my magic there was a total of five people bearing witness to it, none of whom were trainees. It was the second new moon that month, a rare occurrence. The Solistan’s called it a black moon, and I was the only one who received gifts under that new moon, having been the only one to turn sixteen in time.

Raising my eyes, I took in the looming statue of Wystia in the centre of the large room. I may not buy into the frequency of worshipping, but there were Solistan customs that I did follow. I kneeled, kissed my three middle fingers and placed them on the foot of the statue. ‘For the doers, the defenders, and the dreamers. To the devoted, the divisive, and the divine.’ I stood, bowing my head and moved my fingers to my chest. ‘For the Goddess Wystia, and the Queendom of Salistya.’ Lifting my head, my eyes closed, I placed my middle fingers on my third eye. ‘Protect our family.’

I felt a surge of power run through me from where my fingers were placed on my third eye. Time stopped, the power holding my body upright, while showing me a vision of bright, fuchsia eyes and the outline of a body that was undoubtedly male. The rest of the vision was dark and the man stood completely still, staring straight at me so it was impossible to distinguish any further, notable features.

When I was gifted my magic, I developed what I’ve named my ‘knowing’. It tells me when someone is lying, diverts my attention away from a particular course if it doesn’t serve me, or warns me against betrayal. It isn’t active at all times like my physical senses, which I learnt to shut on and off during training on the Isles. Instead, I can generally call upon it when required. But sometimes, like now when I felt a caress in my mind, as though someone was asking to come in, my knowing kicked in unexpectedly, letting down a mental guard I wasn’t aware was up.

I saw another flash of the fuchsia eyes, this time with a gleam of satisfaction in them. Before I could speak, a force pushed my eyes open. I was still standing at the foot of the statue, fingers placed to my third eye. Removing them from my brow, the surge of power I felt seemed to move, rippling up and down my neck before settling on the triangular Royal Mark below my ear in a humming, soothingly warm pulse.

The Royal Marks, much like a tattoo, were present from birth on every person in a royal family. Where the Salistyan’s was a triangular shape pointing to the back of the body, the Nyarellean royals bore the same pattern pointing to the front. The Arlom Kingdom’s was a line curving up at the ends, while the Marlyst’s mark was the opposite with the line curving down. I’d never understood the origin of these marks, or how they came to be. All I knew was that each Dom’s was unique.

I took a step back from the statue, shaking my arms and looking around. Nothing was out of place, no Mazyr or Rynelle around pulling a prank on me. But I didn’t need that confirmation to know my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. I still felt the power humming below my ear, and feeling like a gateway had been opened in my mind.

The question is, if a gateway had been opened, what was on the other side?

I teleported off the island as soon as I was outside the Temple and landed straight in the heart of Senora on the western-most Isle. Housing almost the entire Solistan population, Senora’s location out west, far from the eyes of the rest of the continent, made it the perfect place to train and mould magic.

Looking around the town centre, which was marked by another statue of the Goddess, nothing had changed. There were five main cobblestoned streets that branched off the circular centre of the town. Several streets had a mixture of shops and residential houses spanning as far as the eye can see. Another street that led to the botanical gardens, which also held the Royal House used for royal visits, was on the other side of the town centre. Given that I had trained on the Isles and visited as often as possible, I had created a home for myself elsewhere so tended to stay away from the Royal House unless it benefited any secret meetings I may have.

I walked up one of the streets that housed some shops, ignoring the awed stares of the crowds. I’d had nearly five years of becoming accustomed to people gawking at my lime green eyes. I had stopped being embarrassed by the way the Solistans spoke to me reverently, courteously stepping out of my way with a bow as I walked past. I figured they were free to believe the weird religious prophecy that prompted their stares. Just like I was free to never acknowledge it.

I grinned as I was engulfed by a dozen children yelling, ‘Queen Valare, it’s Queen Valare!’ I smiled and played with the children, submitting to their demands to be thrown in the air – their parents looked on with a mix of terror and veneration at witnessing my unique magic. At one point, I had seven children up in the air spinning around in circles, while another five were hovering against the wall, air tickling their stomachs, eliciting cheerful giggles from them all.

These kids were around the age of ten, about the time where the call for magic would start to stir. It was at this stage that the children tended to act up and could be quite a handful for parents. For this reason, I started walking away, winking to the parents as the children began to cry that I was leaving them there forever. Pausing, I turned around to ask them, ‘Will you promise to be well-behaved for your parents and try your hardest at school?’ I chuckled when a resounding, ‘Yes, Queen Valare!’ came from all twelve children’s mouths not a second later.

‘Alright, if anyone breaks their promise to me, I will know about it.’ I tried my hardest to adopt a menacing look as I brought the children back down to the ground, waiting for them to be steady on their feet before releasing my magic. And because I was a soft-hearted fool and felt bad for scaring them, I snapped my fingers, summoning sticks of fairy floss, and using my magic to float them one at a time towards the children. This should keep the kids satisfied for a while.

Squeals erupted as I made eye contact with the parents to check this was okay. I was met with their nods of appreciation. Nodding back in acknowledgement, I turned on my heel and continued up the road.

The familiar smell of my favourite bakery drew me closer. My stomach growled loudly at the thought of a freshly made scone or slice of bread with butter. As if he had heard my call, Iris popped his head out of the shop. Disappearing inside, he reappeared, quickly followed by his hand holding a paper box. Not being able to help myself, I teleported immediately to him, snatching the box out of his hands with a grin.

‘You’re the best, Iris. One of these days I’m going to convince you to move to Amarald.’ I sighed, taking a massive bite of the warm sourdough bread lathered with what could only be the freshest whipped butter. This was my definition of heaven.

Iris laughed at my impatient display. ‘You know I won’t ever leave here, little Val. You need a reason to come back and not forget about us.’ He smiled ruefully, placing his hand on my head, ruffling my hair like I was still the fourteen-year-old girl who skipped class to eat his goods fresh out of the oven.

‘It’s been difficult to find time to return without raising suspicions of my whereabouts. You know I would never forget about you all. Plus, Arlom isn’t all that bad. Better than the Salistya Queendom if I’m being honest.’ I spoke around mouthfuls of bread, not caring that, as a queen, I should probably conduct myself better in public. But I grew up with these people. They knew me as a trainee, basically just another civilian, despite the ones who believed whole-heartedly in the prophecy.

‘Yes, but would they force us to call ourselves Arlomans? My ancestors went through one of the battles with Salistya. The stories were enough for me, and I don’t intend to go through one in my lifetime. Sometimes it’s better the devil you know, little Val,’ he predictably responded, just as he always had.

Centuries ago, the Queendom of Salistya claimed they had a right to the Solista Isles. From all reports it was a bloody battle which ended with intense negotiations. One of the conditions was that the Solistans would train all Salistyan teens in combat and magic. In return, the people of Solista would not recognise or call themselves Salistyans or recognise the Salistyan royals as their own. However, they would treat them with respect, same as any other royal. Apparently, the lack of recognition had something to do with their religious belief in the Ophiscair Prophecy and with the Goddess Wystia. They insisted on teaching all students their beliefs from the moment training begins, but I don’t know the specifics of it though as me and religion have never mixed. Instead I skipped those classes and became a taste tester for Iris. A far more preferable alternative.

‘I need to get going, sorry Iris. My time here is short tonight. Do you happen to have any other things you’d like me to taste?’ I asked, giving him my best puppy dog eyes.

Iris pulled his other hand out from behind the door, grinning as he thrust a big bag into my hand. ‘Of course, little Val, I can’t have you going back to that kingdom empty handed.’

My eyes lit up like it was the Spring Solstice as I snatched the bag out of his hands. ‘What’s in there?’ I asked, but before he could respond, I held up my hand. ‘Wait! No. Don’t tell me. It needs to be a surprise.’

True to character, Iris simply laughed as he watched me teleport the bag far away from here before Mazyr or Rynelle could get their filthy paws on it and make me share with them.

With a hug and a promise to return soon, I hurried up the road, spending the next hour popping my head in to say hello to the local Solistans who had become my extended family over my teenage years which I had spent hanging out here. Once I had satisfied the social requirements that were often demanded of the Solistans, I cut through back streets to make my way to the last main street of Senora.

It was hard to misidentify this street, as it was the only one in Senora lined with the identical communal accommodations referred to as the barracks. Decorated in a deep, muted green that reflected the Salistyan colours, the barracks held all current trainees ranging from the ages of fourteen to nineteen. This was, for many years, the place I called home.

Not far along the street, I felt two of my Sol’s presences land on either side of me. I didn’t so much as flinch as I kept walking up the street towards the training arena. I knew the stocky build on the right was Mazyr, whilst his twin’s lithe frame gave her away.

‘Look who finally decided to show up. You know, ever since becoming a queen you’ve taken the fashionably late excuse to the next level,’ drawled Mazyr.

‘You know, ever since becoming a cook you’ve taken the let’s-be-grumpy-for-no-goddamn-reason to the next level,’ I threw back with a glance, taking note that he hadn’t heeded my suggestions to cut his hair. Apparently the long brunette hair he always wore in a braid was all the rage. I thought it was a bit of a stretch considering I hadn’t met any other person who rocked this ridiculous hairstyle. But Mazyr was going to do what he wanted to do. I kind of loved that about him, not that I’d ever admit it to him.

I swung my head around to my left after hearing a melodious chuckle. ‘Hello, darling Amire, my favourite twin.’ I smiled sweetly.

I heard a faint, ‘Fucking suck up,’ from my right, but chose to ignore it as Amire replied in her graceful tone. ‘Hello, my favourite queen. I’ve missed you.’

‘I’ve missed you too. I’ve been meaning to come by the Amarald Palace gardens during the daytime. Who would’ve thought you’d take to gardening so well?’

Amire nodded, fussing with her short bob and fringe that fell close to her eyes. ‘I find myself quite enjoying the gardening, and I think it’s a beautiful contrast to my training here. Where the former inspires caretaking, growth, nurturing, the latter is more destructive, violent, final. It’s enjoyable to have that balance.’

Right. A contrast indeed.

Despite training alongside Amire for years, I still haven’t quite worked her out. She’s always had a gracefulness about her that heavily juxtaposed the lethal assassin hiding in the shadows that is Mazyr. I have no idea how she is even related to Mazyr, let alone his twin. The two are chalk and cheese.

‘Well, I’m glad everyone is having a great time with their roles at Amarald. I, for one, just absolutely adore making your beloved husband’s scrambled eggs every morning. Not as much as Rynelle enjoys having to deliver it to the pompous ass, but it’s a close second,’ Mazyr drawled. ‘When can I poison him, again?’

‘No one is poisoning Eliasson, Mazyr. Not yet anyway,’ I replied. ‘I also think Meredith’s role is worth a shout out. She does have to clean up after me, remember.’ Mazyr laughed at the same time I did.

‘True. But then again, is she cleaning up after you or herself?’ Mazyr threw me a knowing look.

‘Eh, minor details.’ I waved my hands, dismissing his question. The five of us were a tight group, ride or die until the end, but Meredith was my best friend, my closest confidante. Always has been, always will be. It was a no-brainer positioning her as my maid and second-hand.

‘Speaking of Rynelle, I assume he’s getting in a training session at the arena?’

‘Correct,’ Mazyr nodded. ‘And before you ask about Dwyla, we’ve checked in with her teachers. She’s doing well, excelling in all classes, and has acquired strong magic. Not to the extent of yours, of course, but she can hold her own with water and air.’

I threw Mazyr a curt nod, the only sign I had heard his report as I came to a stop in front of the large black doors of the training arena. I technically wasn’t supposed to be updated about her progress. Standard Solistan procedure was that the family of trainees were kept on a need-to-know basis.

‘Are you ready, Your Highness?’ Amire asked.

I pushed the doors open, figuring the action was response enough, and walked down the dark, narrow corridor. As we walked further into the building, sounds of shouting became increasingly louder. Coming to the end of the corridor, I stepped through the last door on the right. My eyes took a minute to adjust to the overwhelmingly bright light.

The room was a typical viewing space with a modestly sized lounge placed against one side of the wall and a table and chairs on the other. However, the large balcony that spanned the length of the entire space was the main feature. I stepped onto it, moving to the barriers. Looking out, I finally understood why these platforms were often used by the Solistan trainers to observe the best and brightest of the groups. You could see everything in the massive arena.

From this vantage point, I could see the enormous gym in the left-hand corner, with the archery area set up next to it. Close to me was a small area exclusively for magic training – only last years with stable control of their magic were able to practice in the arena. Newbies were prohibited from using their magic or training on this island. Instead the Solistans had a whole other island dedicated to that.

The last corner of the arena was where the trainees sparred. Luckily for us, this was where most of the action was tonight and, right in the centre of the sparring ring, where I spotted the girl Mazyr had given an update on earlier.

I watched enraptured as she fought her opponent. She was so graceful she made fighting look like a dance, her dark hair swirling around her with every movement of her body. Her opponent, an Arloman, danced with her, eyes fixed on every step she took. I noticed he never took an offensive move, only defending her attacks. Interesting. As if she knew this, the girl feigned a step to the left before darting to the right and, before he had time to defend himself, teleporting behind him, bringing her sword to his throat. She whispered in his ear. An amused grin formed on the boy’s face as he lifted his head to hit her forehead. Laughing, she released the boy before he connected, threw a teasing wink at him and sauntered off. His eyes never left hers.

What. The. Shit.

‘Is anyone else seeing what I’m seeing?’ I spat out through gritted teeth.

Dead silence. It was a rhetorical question, but they should know me well enough to know that I am always after some sort of acknowledgement.

I looked to my left to gauge Amire’s response. As typical, neutral. Looking to my right, Mazyr’s eyes looked like they were about to escape his head all together. Well, that was reassuring.

‘Right. Thank you Mazyr for the confirmation. So, I did just see my innocent eighteen-year-old sister not only taunting an Arloman, but outright flirting with him.’ My eyes stared accusingly at Mazyr. ‘Where was that piece of information in your little update, Mazyr?’

Mazyr took an audible gulp. For all the banter we threw back at each other, he knew not to push me when it came to my over-protective nature. ‘I don’t know what to – ’

‘That, my dear Valare, you can blame on me,’ came a drawl from behind me.

Shelving my annoyance for the time being, I swiftly turned into Varqel’s arms, giving him a fierce hug. ‘How long have you been in the room?’ I asked. Damn Varqel, his magic was able to shield him from others knowing he was in the room. It was a rare gift that other magic wielders don’t have, not even me.

‘Not too long. I was going to knock on the door but thought I’d see how much of your training has stuck. Clearly you need a refresher, dear. Those Arlomans are softening you,’ Varqel taunted.

I let out a curse, annoyance re-emerging, pushing away from him to resume standing near the edge of the balcony. Turning to lean against the barriers, I faced him once again.

‘I’m softening, am I? Maybe this is more of a reflection on your training, V,’ I threw back. ‘Care to share why Dwyla is flirting with an Arloman?’

‘I feel it may be remiss of me not to point out that it looked like more than flirting. I feel intimate familiarity are the correct words for it,’ Amire interrupted, in her signature matter of fact way.

Closing my eyes momentarily, I took a few deep breaths, controlling my instinct to react to her bluntness.

‘Yes, about that,’ Varqel said, no trace of taunting or amusement left in his voice. ‘I wanted to talk to you about this personally rather than through Fyriane whispers. No offense, Mazyr.’

‘None taken, chief. Not upset at all that I didn’t deliver this one,’ he chuckled, scratching the back of his head with his hand, like he still couldn’t believe what he just saw.

Before he realised what I was doing, I had stepped to the side and jabbed my elbow straight into Mazyr’s stomach.

Crumpling over, one hand on his stomach the other hand on his knees. ‘What the fuck, Valare. I thought we agreed no more cheap shots. Did you really have to throw extra magic into that one?’ he wheezed out between deep breaths.

‘We had an agreement, before you failed to report on Dwyla. That is for not keeping your spies in line, Maz. I shouldn’t have to wait to hear from Varqel about my little sister publicly prancing around with a boy, and an Arloman no less. Maybe we should focus less on Meredith’s late-night antics and more on the heir to the Salistyan throne,’ I said, anger sharpening my tone.

He took a few deep breaths, before straightening up with a slight wince. ‘In all fairness, Meredith is banging the right-hand man to your husband. That’s kind of a big deal,’ he muttered.

Before I could deliver an elbow to the other side of his stomach, my whole body stiffened, besides my head, which I whipped furiously around to Varqel, the source of the magic, making me unable to move.

‘If I may, Little One?’ He may be the army general and chief trainer of Solista, as well as my personal trainer as a teen, but Varqel knew as well as I did that his magic was no match for my own. His gaze never left mine, acknowledging the only reason I allowed myself to stay trapped was out of utter respect for him.

‘Can you please release me before you start to tell me what I can imagine will be every reason as to why I am wrong, you are right, and that I shouldn’t be angry with Mazyr?’ I sighed.

Seeing him about to open his mouth to object, I hurriedly added, ‘And no I will not go for another round at Mazyr as soon as you release me. I promise.’

Despite my promise, I shot Mazyr a glare. He sent me an amused grin in return, safe in the knowledge I won’t break a promise to Varqel. Mer is right. He is a little shit.

Varqel’s magic withdrew, and I walked over to the other side of the room, unceremoniously slumping onto the lounge. Best to have a bit of distance between Maz and I.

I directed my eyes back to V, whose side-eyed glance told me this was a conversation best had between the two of us. With a subtle nod, I looked at Amire and Maz. ‘You two can go. Make sure to be back in Amarald before the sun rises,’ I ordered. ‘Oh, and Maz, why don’t you have a little chat to your spies. I suggest starting the conversation at the sparring ring to ensure there’s a mutual understanding on what constitutes important information.’

A wolfish grin overtook Maz’s mouth. He was a complete advocate for disciplinary training. ‘As you wish, Queen.’ Grabbing Amire’s hand, the pair teleported out of the room.

Sighing, I brought my knees up to my chest, shifting towards Varqel as he sat down on the lounge next to me. I patiently waited as he crossed his left leg over the right, leaning back to brace his arms on the top of the couch.

‘Where to begin?’ He paused. ‘As you saw, Dwyla is a natural with magic and her combat skills are second to none. For the first two years of her stay on the Isles she was surrounded by fellow Salistyan and Solistan teens, as you know, with the first crew of Arlomans coming on board just after she had been gifted her magic. Considering we had taken on fifteen-year-olds, some of them turned sixteen shortly after arriving. Because of this, they were behind on their combat training. We had to add on extra hours of training to get them up to speed. Not ideal, but it was a once-off.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Tarn was one of the Arlomans that received his magic the first new moon he was here, and therefore merged into the classes that Dwyla was taking.’

‘Tarn? Tarn as in my husband’s younger brother?’ I sputtered. ‘How the fuck did Maz miss that.’

‘Yes, that would be the one,’ he replied solemnly. ‘There is no doubting his power or that the Goddess Wystia acknowledges his royal heritage. He is a force to be reckoned with and the only person on this island equal to your sister’s power. Naturally, she would be drawn to him.’

I let out a string of curses.

Varqel continued, used to my colourful language. ‘Now, I will admit this is not ideal considering the position you are currently in and the demands of your older sister …’

‘But?’ I guessed.

‘But I remember a girl arriving on these very Isles with much power and potential, but who was a product of the oppressive nature of the Salistyan Queendom without realising it. A girl who, after six months, finally wore an outfit that wasn’t the prescribed Salistyan clothing. A girl who, despite being warned against it, fell in love with a common Salistyan trainee. A girl who was, for a time, able to be free, to live a life as she wanted, without duty weighing her down.’

‘V – ’ I breathed out, clasping my suddenly shaky hands.

‘Maybe Valare, your sister is a little more like you than you realise. Tarn is the only person on this island that can understand the duties of a royal and the yearning to be free. Whether you like it or not, he makes her feel free. Are you going to take that away from her?’ he said, a soft, understanding smile on his face.

‘There’s just so much going on here. Slaviya is the ruler of Salistya. The death of the Marlyst King is bringing in a new royal. There’s the mission to make a sole ruler … There is too much uncertainty and instability in Fyriane now, let alone what is likely to come. This could all end so very wrong. I don’t want her heart caught in the crossfire,’ I argued.

‘Funny, I recall having a similar conversation with your older sister about your growing love interest when you were training here.’ Amusement layered his voice.

Surprise gripped me. I had not been expecting that. ‘What? How did she know about that?’

Waving his hand in dismissal, he said, ‘It doesn’t matter, it’s done now. The point I’m making is that she chose duty over her sister’s wishes. Will you do the same and take Tarn away from Dwyla the way your lover was taken away from you?’ he questioned.

‘They didn’t take him away from me, V. We are still together,’ I denied, shaking my head.

‘You married a king, Valare. You may see him on nights like these, and be able to sneak away for a few hours of privacy, but don’t fool yourself. You and I both know things have not and will not be the same between you two. She took him away from you to fulfil a plan she could have very well terminated the minute she took the royal throne. Are you going to do the same to Dwyla?’

‘No,’ I answered, immediately, seeing what he was pointing out. ‘I will not let her go through what Slaviya has put me through. Absolutely not. But this must remain a secret.’

‘Oh, my dear Valare, you underestimate your sister. If you had continued to watch the sparring, you would have seen that she plays the same game with all her opponents. Male or female,’ he chuckled.

‘What a little flirt,’ I huffed in return.

‘And that is why Mazyr’s spies have not relayed this information, as they assume this is just a part of her personality and nothing more to look into.’

I probably should feel bad that I just sent off Mazyr to put them through the ringer, but hey, their line of work means being kept on your toes.

‘So how do you know her relationship with Tarn is more than that?’ I asked.

‘Well, for one, she gets the same glazed look in her eye as you did with yours,’ he winked. ‘And two, about eight months ago the maids of the Royal House started reporting that they suddenly had to remake ruffled beds despite no one staying in the house. It sounded suspiciously like when you were living here, so I investigated. No one else knows. Not even Slaviya.’

I knew the royal maids swore to the Goddess Wystia to always uphold confidentiality, so I was confident no one else would find out.

‘It seems we’re definitely more alike than I initially thought,’ I laughed. ‘Has she not learnt how to use her magic to return things back to their former state yet?’

His lips twitched. ‘You’re forgetting that little trick is a Valare specialty. Your sister doesn’t have that luxury.’

Oh, right. ‘Sometimes I forget what’s normal and what … isn’t.’ I lifted a shoulder with a sheepish look. ‘Anyway, I trust you’ll continue to keep an eye on this situation and update me. No one needs to know. Especially Slaviya. And please for the love of the Goddess, can Lyz ensure she’s receiving her contraceptive remedy? My plate is already full right now, I don’t need a royal baby conceived out of wedlock thrown into the mix.’

‘Of course, Little One. Lyzia takes care of your sister’s health personally, just as she did you. There will be no unexpected offspring.’

Releasing a big breath, I nodded, satisfied. ‘Good. On that note, I best be off as time is getting away from me and I have a very important meeting.’

Varqel’s eyes flashed with amusement. Standing up, he pulled me into a hug, murmuring in my ear, ‘It was good to see you, my dear. I know it’s difficult, but please don’t be a stranger. I’ll pass on your greetings to the others. I know they’re wanting to see you. Remember if there’s anything you need from me, you’re always welcome in my home. Your room looks the same as when you last saw it.’

With a last squeeze, I pulled away to look into the eyes of the man who had become more of a father to me than my biological one. ‘I promise I’ll try to come back sooner. It hurts me just as much being away from you. Please take care of Dwyla and send correspondence if my other sister steps foot on the island. I want to be across what she’s doing.’

‘Of course, Valare. Now, go enjoy yourself. Be with your man.’ He smiled at me fondly.

‘Thanks, V. I’ll see you soon.’ Kissing my fingers, and placing them to my heart, I teleported straight to the one place and person I had been desperate to see.