edited: 27/06/2017

Maksim was not surprised to find himself back in the Old Ruins, where he had just fallen from the portal. He was surprised to find that the mortal girl was sat up beside him, her grey eyes wide and her blonde hair dishevelled and damp from the second torrential downpour that Maksim had been caught in in less than twenty four hours. It took him a moment to remember that he had thrown her into the portal to keep Elthar from getting to her. Now, he realised it might have been a mistake. Her face paled as she stood up, wincing slightly as she straightened the leg that she had no doubt fallen on, and glancing upwards to the bright pink glow of the sky.

"Where am I?" she questioned, her breathing ragged and her voice shaky.

"Well, it seems you are in Astracia currently, only an hour or two from the city." Maksim was not sure how to approach the situation. He didn't want to scare the girl further, but he was not very good at being kind and understanding.

"Astracia?" She frowned and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. "Where is that, Spain?"

"Not quite," he smirked, not knowing where Spain was but assuming it was somewhere in the Mortal World. "Astracia is a city in Refilyn, the Warlock Realm."

Her grey eyes glazed over in a refusal to understand, her forehead crinkling as she searched her surroundings again. Her eyes darted from the ruins to the forest, and then finally to the distant towering buildings that lay on the heart of Astracia. "No. Warlocks aren't real. This isn't real. This is just a dream."

"I wish it was," Maksim responded, soon getting bored of the girl's shock. The sooner they set off to Astracia, the sooner he could take her home and he could forget this mess. He was eager to get this over and done with before they ran into any more trouble.

"You brought me here." She whipped around, anger flashing across her features before she gulped again in bewilderment. "Why?"

"In case you had not noticed, a dark warlock was about to kill us both. I thought it might be nice of me to save your life, which in hindsight, was quite out of character for me and almost definitely a mistake."

"He was after you, not me." Her voice was barely above a whisper, and as Maksim stepped closer towards her, she stepped away and held her hands in front of her as though defending herself from him. He tried to ignore the guilt he felt as he watched. He didn't like the idea of people being frightened of him, despite his hostile character.

"You have been seen with me too many times." He was surprised to find that his voice softened slightly as he explained. "If I left you, they would have wanted answers from you." He remembered Elthar's low voice as clear as if he was standing right beside him, asking him if he had fallen in love with a mortal. He knew that if he had left her defenceless on that street, Elthar would hurt her, thinking that it would indirectly hurt Maksim, or perhaps he would do worse—he and the rest of his brother's associates had even less respect for mortals than Maksim did. He may not have liked her much, but he could not have her blood on his hands.

"Answers about what?" Her voice rose in panic. "What about Sarah?"

Maksim narrowed his eyebrows in confusion, looking blankly down at the girl.

"My friend," she said as though it was obvious. "She's still in Calderdale. What if he hurts her?"

"Oh, that plain little mortal girl." Maksim sighed in realisation and waved his hand as though wafting the subject matter away. He only vaguely remembered the brown-haired girl, already having other things to worry about, like, for instance, the blonde girl standing in front of him. His mother would not be happy with him for bringing her here, particularly since she had already told him not to come home at all, never mind with an unexpected visitor. "She will be fine. It will not take long for Elthar to realise that she is just a stupid mortal. It certainly didn't for me, anyway."

The orange sunset that had erupted suddenly from the horizon illuminated the girl's features, casting shadows beneath her jaw and creating two crescent moons beneath her eyes. For a moment, Maksim forgot that she was a mortal, too; she was small, and not as elegant or sinewy as most witches—they had been built to be graceful and fascinating, magical—but her facial features were delicate, and her eyes glimmered with a flame that most mortals would never possess, a flame that burnt with life and curiosity and wonder. Against the light, they looked almost silver.

She looked up to the tallest of the ruins, biting her lip irritatingly. "Where's that thing we just came out of?"

"The portal," Maksim said through gritted teeth, "has closed, which is strange seeing as the last few times I've come back, I have had to use my own magic to close it myself. Besides, you have to portal to the Mortal World from the Central Hall. The portal here is only a one way."

"What?" She ran her hands through her hair in exasperation, her eyes roaming her surroundings again. "How the hell am I supposed to get home?"

"We will have to walk to the city, unless you wish to stay here all night and freeze." He began to walk, but stopped when he realised she was not following him. "I was joking about staying here. That one wasn't an option."

"Why should I go anywhere with you?" She crossed her arms over her chest, but not before tucking a fallen piece of hair behind her ear, which Maksim noticed was pierced with various pieces of metal—another mortal tradition that he did not understand. "Since I've met you, I've had nightmares about some weird guy in a trench coat, I've had other weird guys in trench coats chasing me, and I've been thrown into some weird magical place where everything is pink and there's white stuff floating about." She narrowed her eyes, catching a fleck of snowdust in her palm. "What even is this?"

Maksim had grown so accustomed to it that he barely noticed it now and was surprised when she did. "It's the Principle Warlock's dandruff," he joked, then rolled his eyes at her blank expression. "Warlock joke. Too soon?"

She scowled at him, though she looked too disconcerted to make it obvious. Still, Maksim was good at noticing these things, considering the amount of time he spent scowling himself. "Can't you ever just answer a question properly?"

"Fine. It is snowdust," he sighed. "It is from the flowers in the forest. It is pretty now, but wait until you have to wash it out of your hair afterwards."

"Washing my hair is the least of my worries." She sat down on one of the smaller ruins, her face contorted into anger and panic. "You need to take me back. Now. This isn't funny anymore."

"And here I was thinking that we were having a ball," Maksim responded, not without sarcasm. "How disappointing."

The girl stood up again, marching towards Maksim with a harsh glare that almost made him take a step back—he might have if she wasn't so much shorter than him. "Do you think this is funny?" she shouted suddenly, looking around her as though desperate to find something, though he couldn't fathom what. Perhaps something to throw at him or stab him with. "You brought me here and you don't look in any hurry to take me back. You could be a serial killer for all I know. I mean, you're definitely delusional!"

"Is that so?" He tilted his head to the side amusedly, crossing his arms over his chest. "And why is that?"

The blonde wafted a hand at Maksim, as if his presence was proof enough that it was true, before shaking her head and turning her back to him. Her voice was quiet and faint when she spoke again. "This isn't real. This can't be real. The sky is bright pink, for God's sake."

"This is Astracia," he said again, much more patiently than he felt. "This is my world, and I am sorry, but it is very real. The sooner you give over with your tantrum, the sooner I can take you home."

She turned to scowl at him and began to walk away from the ruins. Maksim matched her speed with a satisfied expression. He would usually walk much faster, but he supposed she couldn't help having short legs. Besides, he was still wearing his mortal clothes, and his pants were restrictive, not to mention still heavy and damp from the rain. He noticed that she was in the same position, though her jeans were ripped at the knee and black.

The two were silent as they found their way onto the pathway to Astracia, their feet scuffing lazily through the dry grass beneath them, and Maksim might have enjoyed the peacefulness of the evening if he could not see the girl desperately trying to work everything out. He could almost hear the mechanisms turning hastily in her head, her forehead beginning to wrinkle from frowning so much and her mouth settling into a hard line.

He wondered what it must look like from her eyes; a vibrant sky, trees whose leaves merged from red to gold like fire, white specks of flower petals floating around her like snow that never touched the ground, a red ground of dried dirt that was much different to the grey concrete they had been walking about on earlier. Even after so many years of living here, Astracia and its outskirts were beautiful to him, so to her, it must have been spectacular—but frightening, of course. He remembered his first trip to the Mortal World, how he was caught in a constant state of panic and unease at the unfamiliar world around him, how he had missed the comfort of his usual surroundings. He felt almost guilty for throwing her into this world without her permission, but he hadn't thought much through, and even if he had, he would probably still have made the same choice.

"What sort of a name is Remy, anyway?" he questioned in an attempt to break the silence.

"What?" She whispered through clenched teeth, limping slightly. Maksim tried to ignore it, pushing it down along with the guilt he felt.

"Remy," he repeated as though trying it out on his tongue. It felt foreign, novel, but not unpleasant. "That's what your friend called you, is it not? I thought that most mortal girls were called Margaret or Sophie, or perhaps the occasional Emily." He wondered why he was curious now, or why he was trying to make the girl feel at ease again. He never usually bothered with small talk, finding it too boring and too forced. With her, though, it wasn't just small talk; he was interested in her, interested in her way of life, in the way she was so different to him yet so similar in the way she responded to sarcasm. He had never talked to anybody other than warlocks. Perhaps he was bored and this was him learning, becoming more aware of others.

"I suppose they are," she smiled, though it didn't quite meet her eyes. Still, she did not look like she was going to pass out or have a severe panic attack as she had before, which Maksim thought was a good sign. He did not particularly want to carry an unconscious mortal into a town square filled with people. He could only begin to imagine what his mother would have to say about that.

He glanced at a passerby, narrowing his eyes when he realised that the warlock was staring at Remy. Maksim thought the fellow was in no position to stare when a pile of ghastly orange hair sat on his own head. The man looked away, though Remy had already noticed that he had been staring. "Don't mind him. It is not often that mortals come here." Mainly because it is forbidden for them to even know we exist, he wanted to add, but swallowed his words to prevent scaring her.

She ignored him, still watching the man behind her with pursed lips. He supposed she was just as surprised to see him as he was to see her. "Is it that obvious that I'm a 'mortal'?"

"Yes," he answered bluntly, "painfully so."

"Great. Good job you brought me here, then, isn't it, where I stick out like a sore thumb?" She lowered her voice as she spoke, probably because there were more people approaching, and probably because she was beginning to wince each time she stepped on her left foot.

"Do you need to stop?" He eyed the passersby warily, standing in front of Remy as though to shield her from their stares. He suspected he might have looked like a mortal too if it was not for the hue of his hair, tinted with more shades of red than he knew existed, and his ease at walking through Astracia

"No, I'm good," she lied. "How much longer?"

Maksim squinted in the direction of the city, seeing that the metallic, tall buildings were still quite a distance away. Now they were mere silhouettes against the setting sun, cutting into the pink sky with their sharp rooftops. "Just over an hour."

She groaned slightly, stopping despite herself. "Can't you just make a portal thing?"

"No. Like I said before, we only have two portals in Astracia: one for going in, and one for going out. If I wanted to make one, it would have to be approved by the Council first."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course."

"I can use a healing spell," Maksim said reluctantly, showing off his magic with a quick flourish of his fingers, "if it is too much to bear."

"No," she said abruptly. "I don't want your weird sparks anywhere near me. I've had enough of your magic today. You'll probably turn me into an ant or something." She set off walking again, this time limping, though Maksim could tell she was trying not to show it.

He rolled his eyes and stepped in front of her so that her pathway was blocked, feeling suddenly tall as he shielded the sun from her eyes. Her forehead barely met his chest, and she had to strain her neck to look at him. "Just let me take care of it. It will only take a second."

He crouched to look at her leg, but she stumbled back quickly, her mouth agape and her bottom lip trembling in fear. "No. Just don't touch me, okay?"

He raised his eyebrows, standing up and brushing his pants down as though he was not offended. "Fine. Walk on an injured leg for another hour. See what I care." He turned on his heel, this time not caring if she was following him. He was bored of the mortal now, bored of her bewilderment and refusal to let him help her. The sooner he sent her back through the portal, the better—or at least, that was what he told himself.