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The doors close with a loud thud.

A wave of air blows into my face, bitter and angry at first. And then fresh, as if cleansed, as if in the forest after the rain. My thoughts, which had swum a minute ago, return to my body, forcing me to feel my own arms and legs again--and either from surprise, or from despair, open my eyes.

It's really dark in the hall.

But the dark does not obscure everything, as it seemed to me. With airy ink ribbons, aura snakes along the floor and the walls, around the councilors, Maricela and me. This aura is filled with such powerful magic that even the silver on my burned wrists does not stop it. I feel how natural magic breathes energy into me, and my hurt mind remembers that I need to fight for my life. It remembers that I want to live.

I believe...

Loretto stands at the door.

Our eyes meet in silence, and in Loretto's gaze, at the sight of my beaten body pinned to the wall, burns with such a familiar, affectionate longing that I feel it like a kiss on my lips. Caring, saddened, passionate kiss.

Trust your heart, Eli...

Maricela lied. Lo is here. I was not betrayed, I did not betray. We are together in spite of everything! I want to laugh with joy. Lo is here to protect me again.

But my euphoria lasts only a moment, and then my thoughts become sober. My eyes see what it cost Lo to get to me--the hem of faer robe torn, smeared with dirt and someone's blood. Scarlet splashes of the same blood on Lo's chest and face like a demonic war paint. Fae hair is tousled, as if someone yanked at it, tearing a lock out.

Without exaggeration, Tayen looks like a sinner who escaped from the sacrificial altar at the last moment. Like a half-finished convict who got out of a hopeless prison after hundreds of years, but miraculously did not lose the will to win.

And despite all this, Loretto doesn't seem to notice faer own hardships. Lo's gaze turns to stone to ferocious ice, when Mentor looks at Maricela, who is numb from shock next to me.

"Thirteen guards against me alone," Loretto says in a deliberately calm tone. Faer gaze runs along the hall as well as faer aura haze, exploring every inch with both eyes and feelings. "Should I be flattered that you value my life like a dozen others, Maricela? Or be upset that you're throwing people around like bones left after dinner?"

When Maricela doesn't answer, Lo looks at Tikhon.

"When people try to kill me, I get angry," fae adds, clutching faer dagger in faer right hand. "And I don't play nice.

"Impossible," is the only thing that comes out of Tikhon's mouth. And then, without hesitation, unlike his titled niece, he attacks.

My lungs burn with terror. With a wave of his shamanic hand, Tikhon cuts Loretto's auric ribbons winding through the hall, and a stream of air, trembling like over a bonfire, rushes toward Lo like an arrow. Maricela, glancing at me in disappointment, hisses something and rushes behind her councilors like behind shields. The other members of her Council also begin either to whisper some spells and weave charms, or pull knives out of the folds of their robes, or send their own ink black deadly aura sparks toward Lo.

And Loretto is alone.

I frantically jerk my chained hands, looking for a way to help, but even though Mentor has shared faer strength with me, even though my head is no longer spinning, and my body does not ache and does not feel wooden, I cannot break free from the shackles.

Despite all the attempts of the councilors, Loretto's magic continues to swirl around the hall, floating like stormy clouds, hiding everything from me, then showing fragments of the actions again.

I've never seen so much aura at once. Even in the bottomless fountains, it does not seem to be so concentrated and unbound.

With a sigh of pleasure, breathing in the cold stormy air, I once again try to tear off the chain from the wall on which my hands are attached. My heart is pounding in a hot tension as I bang against the wall, trying to get rid of the shackles. Out of the corner of my ear, I hear the councilors screaming in confusion and swearing furiously. The mosaic on the floor is being sprinkled with blood.

Turning my head when someone's silhouette slips past me, I see that Maricela, who lost her witchcraft powers today, is hiding behind the aura sphere, which was adapted as a map projection, in the center of the hall, but at some point the sphere explodes with sparkling crystals of sharpened ice.

Yelping, Maricela jumps back. One of the shards pierces her forehead, leaving a deep cut on her skin before melting.

At some point, the thick magical clouds begin to disappear. At first, I fear that the councilors have defeated Loretto...but no victorious exclamations come.

With a bad feeling, I peer into the illusory haze. Lo was not defeated, but three councilors are now clumsily crouched against the far wall and two more are sitting on the floor next to them with bloodied hands .

The rest are now--surprisingly--hiding. Huddled behind Ixchel, who stands like a weak and feeble, lonely figure in the center of the hall, the councilors stare with their eyes wide with horror. Maricela clutches a silver blade in her palm, which I recognize as the same, the second one, Loretto's, which she stole from us when we practiced on the roof of the temple, and the only one who is still next to her, not behind her back: Uncle Tikhon. He clenches his hands into paled fists, around which hot air looms just like over a campfire.

But Tikhon is either afraid to leave his niece defenseless if he goes to attack, or he is a coward.

Following the glances of the councilors and the Empress, I also turn toward Lo. The aura is still flashes at the doors, but when it subsides a little, I understand what stunned everyone. And I open my mouth.

Loretto is still at the door, without having made a single lunge or a step, but there is no hint of pain on Loretto's face. No, Lo is both a motionless statue and a hurricane that knows no rest. Lo is yin and yang. Fae is death full of mysteries.

Aura does not just envelop Loretto now, but literally permeates. Through and through. Loretto's body shimmers like black crystals, like a ghostly substance filled with a spirit. Faer hair flutters on the otherworldly breeze, the black strands merge with aura, which becomes their continuation encircling the world with its ribbons. Shadows frame faer face, sharpening faer features, and enigmatic and fatal twilight of a starless night splashes in faer piercing gaze.

At this very moment, Loretto Tayen doesn't look like a human, but like a supernatural being who arrived from a parallel reality.

Wild nature.

This is what goddesses teach their students when they choose an apprentice, I am overcome with a mixture of fear and delight. No one can defeat Lo, because Lo does not resist! A trick that Mentor taught me once.

All that insidious, destructive energy that the councilors put into their efforts to cripple Lo did not cause any damage, because Lo, without objection, without matching hatred, allowed this treachery to exist without becoming a part of it. Without playing by their rules. Fae allowed the magical quintessence to pass through faer and return to nature, from which the quintessence is drawn.

Mentor allowed faerself to be free.

Be faerself.

I think I just fell in love again.

Perhaps if Maricela had been in shape today, if she had wielded magic like any other day, she would have tried to fight again...Although from the shock on the Empress's face, I guess that on better days, she would have lost with disgrace. She's probably even lucky that she has an excuse for her weakness today. A reason to tremble.

Because from now on, Cabrakan's most powerful magician is not Maricela or Tikhon.

Loretto Tayen.

A hurricane.

"I'm not giving you the throne anyway!" Maricela shouts when it becomes clear that they lost. The Empress's shoulders are shaking, blood smeared on her forehead. Her chest heaves but she still clutches her stolen dagger, and her voice is still sharp and furious. "Where is she? Where's the First Blood, Tayen? You're nobody, make her come out to look me in the eye!"

The other councilors continue to huddle behind her, waiting. Tayen's tenacious gaze counts each of them, arranging them in faer mind, and some of them look at each other, dubious, as if preparing to escape but still hoping that this is some kind of stupid misunderstanding and the great Ixchel will protect them. Maricela had never lost before.

Loretto looks at Maricela, and shakes faer head.

"You're a wicked girl who feeds her broken ego on someone else's grief," Lo says. "Why would the First Blood look at you? She's ashamed that you're her family."

Anger flashes brighter in Maricela's eyes. Anger and...resentment. Obviously realizing that the attempt will be futile, Maricela still swings the dagger and throws at Lo with all her anger.

I gasp, but I don't have time to be scared.

The space around Lo cracks and shimmers like shattering glass. The dagger slows down on the fly, hangs in the air for a moment, trembling, and then simply turns to dust which dissolves. Only the silver coating that was on the blade falls like a handful of shiny ashes on the floor.

The first to escape are the councilors who were sitting, crippled, against the far wall. Portals open and close in the blink of an eye, and they're gone.

When Tikhon forms a new arrow of hot air with his fist, an arrow that this time blazes with real fire, Lo envelops faerself in aura again, and the gust raised by it overwhelms the entire room: Lo is tired of waiting. An icy tornado knocks everyone down, and I myself end up standing only thanks to the chain on my hands.

Maricela tumbles to the floor, Tikhon by her side, half a dozen councilors behind them. There are groans and the sound of cracked bones. Lo finally takes a step forward.

The air near Loretto is filled with an elusive force that makes the hairs on my body stand on end in horror and awe. If aura is indeed the soul of the Universe, then it seems that Lo owns its very heart.

The other councilors, those fleeing rats, are abandoning their Empress. Portals close behind them just as quickly.

"Let go!" Maricela swears when Tikhon tries to drag her into his portal with him. "This is my city, my throne!"

"They'll kill you, you fool! You would have died a long time ago if not for me!" Her uncle grumbles, stubbornly dragging her along. "We have conquered everything once, we will win it back again. We'll make it, estúpida...go!"

Lo, however, doesn't seem to be planning on killing anyone else today. Stopping not far from me, fae only watches the pathetic hysteria of the great Ixchel.

Maricela screams in Tikhon's grip several more times, refusing to believe in her tragic loss, but then she agrees to leave.

"My throne..." She sobs before the portal closes.

Silence reigns in the empty hall.

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My pulse is pounding in my throat, my muscles still itching.

Silence.

Sniffing the newly warmed air, I stare at Lo again. My brain refuses to accept reality. Loretto's arms and legs cease to shine like crystals, becoming mortal, wounded flesh again. The power that had awakened in Lo's soul at the moment of the battle falls asleep, leaving behind a tired vessel. Exhausted and somewhat disappointed.

But why should Lo be disappointed? This is a tremendous success.

When Loretto silently comes closer to me, the air around Mentor still smells of freshness after the rain. Of book dust, sweat and freshness. Of trust. It smelled exactly the same when I pinned Lo to the wall by the library, only this time everything feels a hundred times more powerful.

And these two of those memories: the vulnerability that Loretto possesses in my arms, and today's indomitable splendor, capable of killing an entire room with a glance, merge into admiration akin to ecstasy in my head. Into something incomprehensibly wonderful, unattainable, forbidden and desirable. In a storm in my chest.

Before reaching me, Loretto freezes. Veins are still throbbing on faer arms, protruding more than usual; faer posture is cold, but faer eyes are sharp and warm when Mentor looks me up and down with a cautious gaze. Not finding any catastrophic injuries, Lo is in no hurry to touch me. Fae just meets my stunned gaze.

"Are you afraid of me now too?" Fae asks with sudden worry.

"I want you."

Silence.

I don't take back my words.

Mentor slowly arches one eyebrow at me. Fae opened faer mouth, clearly confused, and finally became faer former self in this kind, puzzled embarrassment. Then faer grins. And only then does the worry in faer pupils fade, and Lo, taking the last step, touches my cheek.

I reach for a kiss, but fae doesn't give it to me.

"Only if I'm the one pressing you against the wall this time," Loretto says in a half-whisper, as if teasing. And, raising the dagger in faer hand, with one precise swing, fae cuts through the chain that still holds me.

The silver links clank, crumbling, allowing me to finally lower my numb arms. Lo runs faer fingers over the shackles, and they melt, flying off my reddened wrists.

I swear I would have rushed to take off Lo's clothes here and now. Freedom and audacity, care and power looking at me with faer sly eyes, excite me to stupefaction. I'm definitely crazy. Thanks to Loretto's aura, which poured its energy into me, my body no longer aches, and I don't want to die, but everything burns sweetly inside me. And only my sanity, which has not yet faded, reminding me that the war is still raging outside, makes me hold back.

So I just hug Lo, as if we haven't seen each other for many years.

Loretto exhales, weary, allowing faerself to relax and squeeze my shoulders in response. We stand still, enjoying each other's warmth and support, for eternity. We are together. Which means I'm home. I am loved and I love. What else does it take to make life worth it? Here it is, the security that many seek in distant lands.

When the moment comes to finally let Lo go, we both remain silent for a few more seconds.

"Illa, Loretto?" I finally ask. "A Zagovor of good luck? Why protect me at the risk of your own well-being? It's...forever."

Lo looks away. Suddenly, not a drop of Loretto's godlike courage remains.

"Because you're the only one who still believes in me?" Loretto says. "Why should I need well-being if I lose you?"

Stupid heart, stupid heart, stupid heart...But, gods, how it inspires me at this moment! Lo needs me, I don't want to smile, but I do.

"Well, my idea of waiting out this damn day in the temple turned out to be a failure," Lo clears faer throat and says in a businesslike tone, which pulls me out of my sweet thoughts about love. "Gen probably reported that she couldn't catch us, and Winona from the library whispered to councilors that I had managed to find a gap in the spell. And Tikhon sent his ghouls after us. No, we can't trust anyone."

Mentor looks around the Throne Room again, and nods at the door.

"We'd better get out of here before someone else comes to kill us."

I really don't like the idea of leaving the silence of the hall and continuing this damn day, but I don't see any other solutions, either.

"You should have incinerated Ixchel like that dagger, Lo."

Having already taken a step toward the door, Lo glances at me. Frowns. My words sounded like a bloodthirsty whim.

"Are you blaming me for not killing everyone who gets in my way?" fae asks.

"Not everyone. But Maricela will regain her strength and return to take revenge, I agree. Are you going to scare her away every time?"

"Until she calms down or leaves me no other choice, yes. I will not kill those who are not a threat to me. Those who fear death more than I do."

After taking a breath, Lo sighs once again. Apparently deciding that luck alone is not enough for me, Lo hands me faer dagger.

Staring at the blade, I suddenly remember Maricela's words.

"The First Blood isn't going to kill us and send our enclave into the afterlife with her, is she?" I ask as I take the dagger.

"Into the afterlife?" Tayen asks, chuckling. "Why would she need everyone there? No."

So Maricela was right only about one thing: the luck that brought us all here, I realize. The masterplan of the First Blood did not go as intended because of my and Lo's feelings.

Lo is still unhappy about this victory, because it is not a victory. Because the Trials did not take place, this is in fact a vile feud between Ixchel and Tayen, not an honest transfer of power. The First Blood will not show up, will not support Lo, while Cale and his scumbags are destroying everything outside, and the people are still cruel and evil. The First Blood trained Loretto to control power capable of restoring peaceful order in the enclave, thereby giving us all a chance to resolve all our conflicts, but the goddess herself does not interfere in the petty squabbles of those who are not ready for peace.

And everything went down a bloody path precisely because of Illa.

Because of me.

By choosing me, Lo ceases to be a power above all, guided by the hand of the deity. By choosing me, Lo takes a side in the conflict and loses faer cold mind, with which true justice should be bestowed.

"I know how to fix everything, Lo."

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