edited: 27/06/2017

Remy skulked slowly through the dimly lit corridors of Maksim's home. Annika had left her to sleep almost an hour ago in what was apparently a spare bedroom but looked more like a museum exhibition of treasures and goods, and needless to say, it was impossible for her to do such a thing; her mind would not quieten down, filled too much with images of pink skies and tall buildings, strange people with bright hair and inhuman eyes, and beneath all of that, men dressed in black chasing her and Maksim. She had even been provided with fresh clothes to sleep in, an old shirt that she supposed belonged to Maksim that hung loosely about her knees and was too long in the arms. Her leg still hurt, but after resting it for a while, it felt much better than it had, though a ferociously purple bruise covered much of it, from her thigh all the way down to her ankle.

She ran her hands along the patterned wall, her fingers bumping and breaking their trail each time she came to a new door. It was as though this place was infinite, and she was sure she was already lost after turning down a few corridors, each of which shared the same maroon wallpaper and framed paintings, the same golden doors and low-ceilings, all from which hung dazzling chandeliers.

She was broken out of her daze when she heard the sound of soft music, and soon found the source of it coming from an open door, where Maksim's mother sat cross-legged in an arm chair in what looked to be a large library. Upon observing her silently for a moment, Remy could see how she was related to Maksim; though her eyes were a bright shade of green rather than a deep shade of blue, she shared the same angular features, with high cheekbones and a sharp jawline, and her hair shone a million different shades of red against the desk lamp, though hers was much brighter than Maksim's. She barely looked ten years older than him, with only a few extra wrinkles and laughter lines; though Remy thought she didn't seem to do much laughing.

"Lost?" she questioned, peering over her book to where Remy stood in the doorway, a smug smirk on her face. Remy also understood where Maksim got his sarcasm and hostility.

"I couldn't sleep. I thought I would walk around for a while. I hope that's okay?" She hovered awkwardly, unable to keep her eyes from roaming the books behind the woman. She had always loved books, though she would never admit it to her friends in Calderdale, and her fingers tingled at the thought of running them over the spines, turning the pages, curling up somewhere and reading, though she didn't suppose these books would be of much use to her; she didn't think they would even be in a language she could read.

"Did Annika leave?"

Remy nodded in response, unsure of what else to say. She had barely listened when Annika had rambled on to her about Maksim and his mother, the Council, and god knows what else. There was something rather irritating about her high-pitched voice and overly kind façade—that's what Remy assumed it was, a façade; nobody was that nice, not even 'witches,' which is what she had called herself.

Judging from the way Maksim's mother averted her eyes back to the book in front of her, she assumed that the conversation was over, but Remy couldn't stop herself from saying more. "You know, it wasn't Maksim's fault," she said hesitantly, having no idea why she was defending him but doing so anyway at the memory of his mother's cold glare. "It was probably mine, actually. I got in his way, and he was being chased by those guys in black-"

"The Dark Ones," she interrupted as though it really mattered what Remy called them.

"Right, those. Anyway, he pushed me into the portal to escape them. He never meant for any of this to happen."

"Maksim never does mean for things like this to happen, but somehow they always do," she said tiredly, closing her book and putting it on the desk next to her. This room had been the first normal thing that Remy had seen upon coming here, and she was glad for it. She could at least pretend that she was in the normal world, where people sat in their libraries and read the way that Maksim's mother was doing now.

"Does that mean Maksim often brings, y'know, mortals here?" she couldn't help but ask, her palms growing clammy as she awaited the answer.

"Oh no. Believe me, you are the first one, and hopefully, the last, too." Remy noticed that the corner of her mouth twitched slightly as she spoke, almost as though she found it amusing.

The two were enveloped in silence again, and Remy hesitated, wringing her hands together nervously before she spoke again. "He's trying." She bit her lip, unaware that she had meant to say it until it had left her mouth. "Each time I've seen him-"

"Wait," she held a finger up, her brows furrowed. "You have met my son more than once?"

"Well, yes. It wasn't intentional, though. We just sort of bumped into each other. It was my fault really."

Maksim's mother didn't appear to hear her. She stood up, crossing her arms over her chest in a superior manner. Remy wanted to shrink back, feeling even smaller than she had done before. "So instead of looking for his brother, my son has been wandering off with some little mortal girl? Do not tell me that you are in some sort of forbidden relationship."

"No, it's not like that. We barely know each other," Remy replied, though she couldn't help but blush slightly. "It was just a coincidence, that's all."

"Yes, well, I do not believe in coincidences," she snarled, her green eyes glittering in anger, "and besides, Maksim is due to marry Annika. He has no interest in mortal girls like you who giggle pathetically over boys like my son and live their whole lives without ever caring about anything substantial." She turned her back on Remy, her arms still crossed and her posture tense.

Remy's blood boiled in anger, so much so that she thought she might explode, or worse, cry; she always hated how her body would betray her each time her eyes stung with tears when she was frustrated. No tears came now, though, and she marched up to the older woman with a new sense of confidence, one she was glad hadn't been lost upon travelling through the portal.

"You know, you're no better than me just because you're a warlock or witch or whatever the hell you are, and neither is your son. Yeah, I'm human and I live in a stupid little town that doesn't matter, but I matter! I think about things, I feel things that you probably never will, because you're too lost in your little bubble of superiority to even notice!" She stepped back to catch her breath, ashamed that she had raised her voice but proud of the shocked expression on the woman's face nonetheless. "You don't know me," she whispered then, "you don't know what I care about, and you don't get to assume you do. You might scare your son and Annika, but you don't scare me."

"Is that so?" She tilted her head, her eyes, an unnaturally deep shade of green, glimmering in amusement as she looked back at Remy. If she didn't know any better, she might have thought the woman was looking at her out of respect, though she was sure it was just a trick of the dim lighting and the shadows that it cast against them both. "I must admit, you mortal girls are much more...what is the word? Fiery, perhaps, than I remember."

Remy inhaled and gulped, her shoulders relaxing from their tensed position as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah, well, it takes one to know one."

"I did not mean it as a criticism."

Remy thought about what that might have meant for a moment before her mind flashed back to Maksim, the way he had looked so helplessly as his mother barked orders at him. If there was any opportunity to get her to listen, it would be now.

"You know, all he wants is to make you proud," she whispered. "He's trying. Please just try to be happy with that."

She did not wait for a response, instead retracing her footsteps back to the spare bedroom and finally finding the solace that she needed in order to drift into an undisturbed sleep.

* * *

"Tykon!" Maksim shouted as he walked into the Central Hall and spotted one of the few people who he had actually talked to before discussing something with another warlock. Tykon's friend eyed Maksim and walked away cautiously, no doubt recognising him to be Ackmard's brother. He had become prone to strange looks and the occasional glare since his brother's rebellion. "Any news on my...on the Dark Ones?"

"It is thought they're getting closer to Astracia," he answered tiredly, his eyelids drooping slightly under the weight of what Maksim assumed was fatigue. It was getting late, with the streets now bathed in a sickly white light in order to saturate the thickening lilac haze, and Maksim wondered how long his friend had been here. He was tired himself, he realised, from the multiple trips he'd had to the Mortal World and the long walk back to Astracia. The cold from the rain had crawled into his bones, and he suddenly longed to have a hot shower and an early night. "We tracked them up until they reached Cam Lake a few hours ago, but we haven't been able to follow them since; they must be using a spell to cover their tracks. They could be anywhere now."

"Are they sending anybody out to look for them?" It was a silly question, he knew, but he had to ask anyway. A feeling of dread pooled in his stomach; he was sure that Tykon would ask him to go and search for Ackmard, and Maksim felt in no way prepared to travel half way across Refilyn to find somebody who clearly did not want to be found after the long day he'd had.

"They sent a group of warlocks down to the area surrounding Cam Lake, but there is nothing else that we can do until they show up again somewhere." Tykon sighed, patting Maksim on the back as though in comfort. Maksim relaxed ever so slightly. "I have been here all day and need to rest. I think that perhaps you do, too. Go home, Maksim."

Maksim shook his head, though his eyes glanced to the large wooden door of the hall. He was tempted to leave, but he knew what his mother would say if he went home without having made progress on his brother. Even so, he had to squint at Tykon to look at him now, and it wasn't just because of the warlock's electric blue hair. His head ached with exhaustion and his eyes burned under the harshness of the artificial lights. "My mother needs me to find my brother. There is no time to rest."

"There is nothing you can do until they show up again. Besides, I do not think you will find them until they wish to be found. Your brother is not one to go down without a fight."

Maksim often found it difficult to believe that Ackmard had once been best friends with Tykon; they had been in the same class at the Foundation, had grown up together, had even worked together for the Council. Now, Maksim could barely imagine the two speaking to one another. Tykon's kind blue eyes were round with a desire to help anybody he could, whereas the last time he had seen him, Ackmard's had been narrowed with cruelty. They were nothing alike, not anymore, at least. He wondered if Tykon ever missed his brother. "There must be something I can do here."

"There is nothing," a deeper voice growled from behind Maksim, and he turned around to find Annika's father, the Principle Warlock, standing a few metres away, looking more weathered and wrinkled than Maksim remembered. His cold grey eyes glared at Maksim—the Principle Warlock did not like him after he had rejected Annika so many times since his arrival in Astracia years ago. "The Dark Ones are missing, and until we have some clue of their whereabouts again, none of us are of any use."

"So that is it?" Maksim asked in disbelief. "We are just going to go home and have a nice rest while they are here, in Refilyn? They could be doing anything."

"What do you suggest we do about it, boy?" The grey-haired man's lips pursed together, the corners turned down—in either disapproval or old age, Maksim couldn't tell. He wondered how old the warlock was. It was not often that a warlock's age began to show on their face, but clearly, this warlock was an exception. "Send everybody out on a wild goose chase to search for a group of invisible men with dangerous dark magic? I refuse to put my people in danger."

Maksim's shoulders slumped in acceptance, and he ran a hand across his face tiredly. "No, Sir. But maybe if—"

"Maybe if nothing," the principle warlock interrupted, his expression one of thunder and ice. "I know that you are only thinking of your brother, but my orders are final. There are a small number of warlocks travelling to Cam Lake already, and that is all we need for now."

"Then I will go along with them." Maksim did not know why he was still arguing; perhaps because wandering about Refilyn, cold and tired, would be easier than returning home to his mother. "I will help them in their search."

"It is too late. They set off hours ago. Go home, Maksim. I will send your mother a message that tells her of my orders. You do not have to worry about her."

Maksim nodded in surprise. He hadn't realised that the warlock knew how his mother was with Maksim, but he supposed working with her everyday might have given him an idea. "Thank you, sir."

He made a move to leave, following Tykon out of the hall, but was stopped by a wizened hand on his arm, bony and flecked with marks of old age. He turned around patiently.

"Once this is over and you have found your brother, Maksim, I expect you treat my daughter with a little more..." he paused, searching for the word, "regard. I have dismissed your hostility towards her because I know that you have much to put up with, but I will not allow it for much longer. Annika is just a girl, and she cares for you perhaps more than you deserve. I expect you to propose very soon."

Maksim responded through clenched teeth, careful not to come off too rude to the Principle Warlock. He was in enough trouble as it was, and would certainly be in more once it was discovered that he was hiding a mortal in his home. "I'm sorry, sir. I thought I had made it quite clear that I will not be proposing to Annika. Not now, and not ever. I do not think it would be fair of me to do so without commitment to the cause. I thought my mother had made you aware of that."

"Perhaps you just need convincing." He smiled in the same way a silver dagger might flash against the light: with threat and malice. "Marrying into the family of a Principle Warlock can be very beneficial. You would be guaranteed wealth and a career here at the Central Hall, and perhaps one day, a career in Refilyn's capital city. What is not to commit to?"

"I am not interested in being bribed by you, sir, nor am I interested in working for the Council." Maksim pulled his arm away forcefully, frowning at the man in front of him. "If you wish for me to respect your daughter, perhaps you should respect her first. You do not have to bribe men to love her. I am sure she is charming enough to form her own relationships."

With that, he trudged away, his head held high. He enjoyed the sound of the door slamming closed behind him as he left the Central Hall and headed back to his home, where he was sure more trouble would await in the form of a short blonde mortal girl.