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Once inside the bakery, I stop, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dark. The aroma of the milk cakes is so thick here that it literally coats my tongue with powdered sugar. Seduces.

Drives me crazy.

Just like Tayen's warm hand on my wrist again. So close...Why, why does my heart skip a beat every time? I find myself regretting that I can't see Loretto's eyes in the dark. Can't see at least some mutual feelings. But it's just a damn hand...Why couldn't I fall in love with aura gemcoins like that homeless man? Or with power, like Maricela? Why do I always need something that's out of my reach?

"Loretto, you had gemcoins all this time?" Clearing my throat, I fight the blush that touches my cheeks. "Why offer to steal, then?"

Loretto says in the dark next to me, "Well, we're really stealing, aren't we? But I didn't specify whether we would leave something in return."

My eyes slowly get used to the shadows, distinguishing the details. Unlike the street, here is tidy and cozy. There are wooden tables on the left from me, and by the stairs leading up, where the baker lives, there is a counter and a glassy refrigerator, where pies with berries and caramel syrup are stored.

Next to the exit is a stand with bottled juices, chewing gum, candies...condoms? Is it a dating kit? I look away, embarrassed. But between the stand and the refrigerator is a huge countertop, where freshly baked cakes are.

After meeting with a half-witted man and his bullshit laced with hatred toward us, I don't feel happy to see all these cakes anymore. Well, I'll try to forget my worries with a cake, and then what? Whether I'm a shaman or a plainblood, a rebel or a pawn of the empire, someone will despise me anyway. Even if I earn all those pompous titles at once. Even if everything I want will be at my feet. Is it that good to get what you want, then? Is happiness about wanting?

And the silence around now feels like the calm before the storm...

Without wasting any time, Loretto is already by the counter, bringing out the remaining aura gemcoins to leave for the baker. One diamond of the size of a sunflower seed and three smaller aquamarines are all that's left.

"Oh..." Mentor's voice trails off with disappointment after continuing. "I thought I had more. This is only enough for a small cake or five cupcakes. What are we going to take?"

"My relatives won't share five cupcakes equally, everyone will fight. A cake can be cut into pieces. A cake, then."

"Then choose what you like. I'll look for packing boxes." With these words, Loretto goes deeper into the bakery, to the shelves behind the counter where all the utensils are.

After lingering for a moment longer, watching as Tayen begins to slowly rummage through the shelves, I go to do what I was told. But what is there to choose? My brothers and sisters will eat anything if it's sweet, I think, watching Mentor from the corner of my eye.

At first glance, everything in Loretto's movements is as usual--faer proud grace, rhythm, thoughtfulness. But when you get to know someone close enough, when you understand exactly what emotion should be hidden behind each gesture, you begin to notice nuances that any passer-by will neglect.

Loretto's grace today is kind of clumsy, pretentious. Faer rhythm is sluggish. Faer thoughtfulness is indifferent. Of course, I do not expect that you can restore the strength of the spirit in one day after being injured, even if you are a shaman, but Loretto's mood...disturbs me. It's as if there're no emotions behind the movements of Mentor at all, no excitement, no persistence. Even the darkness of the hall does not hide it: Loretto is uncomfortable in faer own body, in faer own thoughts. What are you hiding from me again, Tayen?

While I'm thinking, Loretto finds a snow-white box with a satin ribbon and returns to me. Without looking, I nod at one of the cakes, and Loretto, carefully picking it up with a spatula, puts it into the box. Fae begins to wrap it with a ribbon, as a gift. And even this appetite-provoking work fae manages to envelop with faer apathy! I'm uncomfortable just looking at it.

"Well, you can't do it like that." Unable to stand the sight of my mentor torturing the ribbon, trying to tie it with one hand into a crooked knot, I reach out myself. "Give it to me."

Rather mechanically than intentionally, Loretto pulls faer hand away from mine.

The knot, which is almost tied, is falling apart.

Loretto sighs, annoyed.

"Who ties ribbons like that? Shamans?" I want to make it right, but Tayen slaps my palm, shooing me away. Tights faer ugly knot again. "If you want it to be presentable, don't thrust the end of the ribbon into..."

"Don't teach me to thrust, Eli."

"But you're doing it wrong!"

"It's impossible to do it wrong."

"But the end must be thrust--"

No one ever criticizes Loretto, and my shameless eagerness has the most negative effect. Loretto flares up with indignation.

"You know what, Eli?" Fae hisses, glaring at me with faer dark gaze. "Will it be right then to thrust it into your-- Ah!"

Mentor suddenly recoils when I grab faer shoulder in an attempt to get closer to the ill-fated box and the ribbon. A grimace of pain twists Loretto's features, and Tayen literally folds in half, as if an unbearable agony has pierced faer entire body. A swallowed moan is muffled somewhere in Loretto's chest, and a tremor shakes faer shoulders, causing several long strands to escape from the bun of hair on the back of faer head.

When Mentor straightens up again and looks up at me with a frightened, bitter look, I can't even utter a word. Looking at Loretto's pained posture once again, I realize that I involuntarily grabbed Mentor by the right shoulder--the same one that Maricela cut open with a blade yesterday.

"Hasn't your wound healed?" I ask, and my shoulder blades are suddenly cramped with horror. Has Tayen been walking with such hellish pain all this time?!

When Loretto doesn't admit it, I come closer. Loretto's t-shirt is baggy, hanging on faer slender, thin body and covering just as much as necessary, but no more. I pull faer right sleeve down, lowering it, and the collar turns out to be wide enough to bare faer shoulder--which has an ugly piece of bandage with a fresh blood stain in the middle. Exactly where I involuntarily pocked it with my finger.

Loretto looks away, refusing to meet my questioning gaze.

"Shamans can heal anyone, but not themselves," fae explains when fae realizes that I'm still waiting for an answer. Fae explains it quietly, uncertainly, as if resisting the truth. "Aura as such is nothing, just energy without purpose and will. You spend your strength to achieve what you want, and aura multiplies it, not the other way around. I can't multiply what I don't have. It's like being a broken battery: maybe it can still work, but it won't fix itself."

"Can I fix you?"

"Don't."

There is a strange pause.

Tayen continues to stare into the dark, clearly wishing there was a way to escape from the conversation. Pursing fae lips as if ashamed that the secret, which had been so skillfully hidden so far, had been exposed.

I don't even know if it makes me angry or upset. And this is what you call I'm fine? Is this what you call it was easier without you? Is it easier to be crippled and suffer in secret?

It turns out that Mentor kicked me out of the bathroom yesterday and sat there for half of the night until I fell asleep, simply because fae did not want me to figure out the deception. No one was really mad at me, the problem was not with me.

And when I woke up, Loretto's shoulders were so carefully wrapped in a blanket not for warmth. And my teacher didn't want to get out of bed all day so that I wouldn't notice faer painful posture while I was walking back and forth, scrubbing blood off the tiles...But why ashamed? Why not just ask for help? Why don't now?

If the life of everyone you care about ends, but not yours, Maricela's venomous words echo in my head, you have to love the pain.

You need to believe in something and hope for something...Mentor's words follow.

...something eternal...

...otherwise the world is not worth a day...

"Do you think that suffering makes you stronger? It's not like that, Loretto." My voice sounds sad. Loretto still considers faerself a loner, no matter for how long I'm around. Fae doesn't trust anyone completely except faerself. "Not the pain that you intentionally bring upon yourself."

Expecting to hear no such thing, Tayen turns fae gaze from the dark to me. In the shadows of the hall, faer black eyes fixed on me shine like diamonds filled with aura. Bottomless. But also surprised and... defeated. "It's not about the pain. It's about weakness. I can't afford it, I have no right to make mistakes."

"Why? We live to make mistakes. To learn, to improve ourselves...Find new horizons? If there is nothing to strive for, if all the mistakes are made, and all the lessons are learned, what is the meaning left to live for?"

"Those who live are looking for the meaning, and I only expect to survive."

I don't know what to say.

Loretto sighs, and shakes faer head. There's still nowhere to get away from me, so my mentor just lowers faer shoulders and winces when fae has to move faer tortured arm, stalling. And when fae does continue, faer voice comes out coyly and stiffly, as if every word has to be forced out of faer throat with effort.

"I don't have a mentor, Eli. No older brother, or a parent, or a protector. If my decisions lead to mistakes, then I'm the one to pay for them. And it's the only way to cope when you're alone. If I start relying on someone else's help, support, care...I'll get used to it. If I get used to it, I'll lose my independence. And I will be beaten in a difficult hour." Fae shakes faer head again, staring at faer feet like a condemned at the gallows. "So if this time my decision to keep you safe from Maricela led to me getting hurt, then it's only my fault. I can't demand a reward from you."

A reward. Or a punishment...Victory or death. Everything or nothing.

"But you're not demanding, I'm offering," I object. "Do you want to bet who is more to blame? With me? I'm breathing to mess up!" I grin, trying to joke, but it's not funny at all. "And for what it worth, climbing onto the roof where Maricela found us was my idea. My mistake."

"But I wanted to listen to you."

"And it was your conscious thought, Loretto! When I make mistakes I'm naive and short-sighted, I don't foresee the consequences and I drown in my regrets afterward. You, unlike me, assess the risk sensibly. Wisdom is not the absence of mistakes, but the willingness, as you do, to take responsibility for them, right? But being able doesn't mean being obligated."

For some reason, my words amuse Mentor.

"You think I'm wise?" Loretto asks, looking at me again, and the corners of Loretto's lips rise charmingly, as if tasting a compliment.

I'm lost. I understand that it is impossible to resist faer elusive grin. And I can't help but smile back. "After two hundred years of life? It's probably hard not to grow up and get wise."

"No, Eli, it's easy. To grow up, it's not enough to walk the ground, read books, and think. Age is also about feelings. Age is the practice of everything that has been read and thought about, and I have a big problem with it. It seems that you were right, I've only been able to suppress my feelings, I don't practice, I don't evolve. I assess the risk and...I leave. I am a professional, but in my own world of theories and cold calculations. A shark in an aquarium. A bug stuck in amber. The desire to give in to passions, adventures, new experiences--this is about you, not me. You are not afraid to follow your heart, even when you are feel insecure."

"But..."

"But which is better in the end: to be a fry in an ocean or a shark in an aquarium? Fry grow up. They explore the ocean. In the aquarium...there are only glass walls."

Our conversation dies out.

I have never considered my desire to succumb to passions to be the call of my heart. Well, yes, I can let my emotions take over. Yes, they seem to lead me into new adventures every time. And sooner or later, they teach me something when logic fails...

But Loretto's mysterious silence and cynicism seemed like a sign of secret knowledge to me, not confusion. And even when Tayen sometimes responds and reacts strangely, fae does it with such pride that it hardly allows me to doubt.

Although isn't that what everyone does? We strike first when we're afraid of being stabbed in the back. We choose the path of a villain when we know we can fall victim. We hide our tears behind a smile. A broken heart--behind indifference. And the more wounds we carry inside, the more invulnerable we try to appear on the outside. So, the most cynical and mysterious people are probably the loneliest?

After a pause, I reach for Loretto's shoulder again.

Tayen doesn't push me away this time. Fae only winces when I peel off the bandages, exposing a deep, jagged cut that has barely dried along the perimeter.

It's hard to see under the weak beam of the moon seeping through the bakery's window; the wound is framed by a huge purple bruise, it's swollen and flushed, but it doesn't seem to fester--that's a plus. "How do I--"

"The cut is deep, but elementary," Loretto replies, understanding me right away. "Maricela is an excellent swordsman, she chose a place without vital organs, complex muscles and arteries. Just nerves and wild pain. If you concentrate properly and visualize the healing process, magic will do everything by itself. Have you read the anatomy textbook, can you visualize?"

"Did I have an anatomy textbook?"

Looking at me, Tayen arches faer eyebrow.

"Well, I learned the rune handbook by heart," I hastily add in my defense with an embarrassed smile. "I remember the rune of skin regeneration, the rune of blood circulation, the formation of tissues of internal organs..."

"Skin regeneration will do," Loretto nods. "Add the key of strength, the third line from the moonlight attraction rune, and it will be what you need."

How is moonlight related to regeneration?.. But I don't want to ask and listen to a lecture in response right now.

Well, I guess it's elementary indeed. Summon aura in a moment of silence when nothing distracts. With this aura, use the tip of your finger to draw a rune of twelve intricate, broken lines in the air, an inch in front of Loretto's wound, and let the magic do the job...Poof.

My hand is shaking. I don't know if it hurts or not, but Tayen doesn't make a sound as the wound closes, healing faster than the rushing water in the waterfall. The bruise fades, the blood is erased by an invisible force, the cut closes, smoothing out the rough skin...

Only...there is a scar on Tayen's previously perfect shoulder now. A very small scar, thin as a razor blade and a shade lighter than it's necessary for Loretto's sun-kissed shoulders, but unpleasant looking and protruding on the surface of faer skin.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." I curse myself again. "I don't know how it happened. Probably got a couple of lines mixed up. I'll fix it, Loretto, just tell me how, and I'll..."

Loretto stops me midsentence, catching my hand, which has been already reaching for the scar. When I freeze, fae releases me and runs the fingertips of faer left hand over a fresh flaw under faer right collarbone. Fae tries to squint faer eyes to see, but even with Loretto's long neck, it's hard. Fae's going to get upset. Get mad?

Loretto smiles.

"It's unusual," fae says. Fae takes in full lungs of air, puffing out faer chest, and then stretches faer back, making two semicircles with faer shoulders. Having not felt the previous stiffness and cramps, fae smiles wider. Fae looks at me, and faer gaze starts to sparkle with pleasure. "Thank you, Eli."

"But the scar..."

"It will remind me of this evening. You don't have to do anything with it, okay? I like it, really. You know, a long time ago, I had the idea of getting rid of almost all my old calluses and scars, I wanted to forget the past, but...it didn't help. Maybe a new life will help? Maybe it's time to create new memories?"

Mentor continues to smile, easily, shamelessly, looking at me with a spark of awakened enthusiasm in faer eyes. Fae now stands relaxed and jerks faer healed shoulder, clearly glad that fae no longer needs to restrain faer movements.

And only now do I have a moment to reflect on something other than Loretto's secrets, to realize how close we're actually standing to each other. I'm almost pinning Loretto to a shelf. A butterfly's wings will hardly flutter between us.

We are still surrounded by the sweet aroma of baking soaking the space with powdered sugar and buttercream, and I suddenly want to lick my lips. Their sweetness is associated with Loretto's smile now. And Loretto's bare shoulder is still in front of my eyes...strong, slender, tender shoulder. With a scar left by me like an autograph. Fae can't even take it off as can I take off the earring that Mentor gave me.

Loretto, every day from now on without exception, will see the scar in the mirror. Fae will remember this evening. Remember me.

My heartbeat quickens, growing hot in my chest. The already familiar, but still frightening thrill burns inside my veins at the thought of Loretto and I being alone. No one in this dark corner will hear us, no one will interfere, no one will find us, no matter what happens now.

Tayen is also wearing plainblood clothes as if dressed up for me. It's like we're equal, and that's why we're made for each other. And the shadows in this moonlight outline Loretto's cheekbones, lips, shoulders so seductively...a dream.

What if I touch Loretto's shoulder? Just like that, for no reason. It's already got my autograph there anyway. Or if I press Loretto against the shelves? Will fae hug me like I dreamed of it? Kiss?.. Fleetingly, quickly. Or with a strong demand. Our bodies will meet, and the heat overwhelm me to the very tips of my fingers. Let my head spin, let Loretto's next breath settle like sugar on my tongue. Maybe then I will finally stop going crazy with my fantasies.

Maybe it's time to create new memories?

It's like I've been hit on the head and my mind clouded, I realize what I'm doing only when I'm already reaching for Mentor. I have to stand on my tiptoes so that our lips can be exactly opposite each other. Trying to hold on to this moment, my hands rest on Loretto's waist.

I am, as expected, anxiously waiting for Tayen to respond. Expect Tayen to lean closer to me, put faer hand on my neck and gracefully, like moonlight, run faer thumb over my cheek. Would fae smile thoughtfully before kissing me? I'm waiting to find myself in such a welcoming embrace...my head is indeed spinning.

I instinctively close my eyes when Loretto's breath teases the tip of my nose, and, basking in anticipation, I carefully press my lips against Loretto's. Hesitantly, patiently, waiting for a response.

But there's none.

None?..

Instead of kissing me back, Loretto suddenly freezes. As if petrified. Fae doesn't touch me and doesn't even seem to be breathing anymore. The corners of Loretto's lips are still hot and soft under mine, but limp like someone's who is in a coma. Without desire, without a soul...without an answer.

The agonizing moment lasts like an eternity, when my heart shrinks, stutters, stammers, but Loretto's lips still don't respond to mine. They don't tighten in refusal and don't open in agreement.

Nothing.

Fear and confusion shake my whole body. It's cold, no heat. In panic, I pull away to see Loretto's eyes and understand what, oh unfair gods, happened? How? Why?..

Our eyes meet in the darkness of the bakery, but in faer gaze, I only find the same petrified emptiness. No joy, no anger, no fright, no surprise, nothing at all! How is this possible?

Everything or nothing.

Everything and nothing.

There's suddenly a lump in my throat, and I can't even get the words out. My face burns with shame and awkwardness, and my legs begin to tremble. The silence between us hangs over us like sticky despair and drags me to the bottom like a suffocating collar around my neck. But I can't even force myself to run away this time, my numb feet won't obey.

"L-Loret--" My voice fails, fading away.

"We should probably go, huh?" Loretto suddenly picks up, undisturbed. The petrified emptiness on faer face is replaced by... indifference? A forgiving discontent? "You can't visit late, even if you're going home."

With these words, Tayen turns away, ties the ribbon on the cake box into the most presentable bow imaginable, takes faer gift, and walks past me to the exit.

Only at the door, noticing faer reflection in the glassy door of the refrigerator, Loretto adjusts faer t-shirt, covering faer scar and shoulder. Hides stray strands of faer hair back into faer bun. Fae looks at the display with chewing gum next to the door, hesitates, but then pulls out one. Fae quickly puts it in faer pocket.

Fae thinks for a moment longer, and then turns around to look at me still standing like a porcelain dummy. "Are you coming?"

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