7. DAMIAN

Chapter seven

DAMIAN

I made my way to an alley in between bars. The stench of it was musty, dampening my clothes. I had waited for the perfect moment when the moon rose completely and had slightly begun to sink. It was early enough that no one was awake, but late enough that all the drunks had straggled their way home.

Making my way across the dark part of town, I grabbed the dagger hidden in its sheath and brought it to my hand, making it more accessible to pull it out at any given moment. I continued to look from side to side, assessing my surroundings.

My hands started to shake as I held the piece of parchment in my other hand, reading it over and over again. Anticipation grew heavier and heavier in my stomach, masking the ache that always sat there. I never would have considered utilizing old magic before because of the consequences that came with it. But I would do anything to see Sebastia's sea-blue eyes again and feel her in my arms one more time. The risk of my own life was nothing compared to being able to have her back.

Becoming a killer already shot my morals down, but utilizing magic from the Old Religion was a further step.

When I was with Sebastia, I was a blacksmith, and I was going up in life. The need to prove my parents wrong exhausted me, but I was capable of providing. We were going to have a family together or grow old together. But it was all taken away. After that moment, I knew I could never fall in love again. The pain was too intense, even stronger than killing.

Unsure if Sebastia would want me to talk to the sorcerer and if she would even want to come back, I thought about that night–about the fire, everywhere. I could still hear her screams piercing my ears and feel the weight of holding her limp body in my arms.

I wanted her back. No. I needed her back. Ever since she had been gone, I was ashamed of the person I had become.

The thought of her made me grip the paper tighter. I had to do it. I needed her: the way she would come up and wrap her arms around me after a long day at my apprenticeship, that blue dress, her smile…

The thoughts quickly took me to desire, excitement, and need. I had to do this. I needed her.

Opening the parchment, I glanced at what it beheld. The ink bled delicately across the paper. I gulped hard before saying aloud, "Tybalt Abaris Claudion."