Some scars cut so deep, they make death seem like the easier choice.
Worse Than Death
As I stepped out of Livius' office, the atmosphere shifted immediately. Lilinette was waiting for me in the hall, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. The tension hung between us like a veil, heavy and palpable. She didn't say a word, and I didn't offer anything either. I could feel her magic pulsing faintly, restrained, coiled like a serpent ready to strike. It was unlike her to be this quiet, this still.
We walked side by side in silence, the echo of our footsteps the only sound in the vast corridor. My mind raced, but it always came back to one thing—the Time Mage.
Stealing magic from the world.
For a mage, magic wasn't just a tool or a weapon. It was life. It was identity. It was the air they breathed, the blood in their veins. To strip them of that... it might be worse than death.
I glanced at Lilinette. Her jaw was clenched tight, the fire in her eyes dulled but still flickering beneath the surface. How did she feel about this? The thought of losing her magic, of being powerless... It had to be terrifying.
For someone like her, who had always wielded her power with such confidence, the idea that someone could steal it from her—it had to cut deeper than anything else. It wasn't just about survival for mages. It was about holding on to what made them... them.
Maybe that's why she was so tense, so silent. The idea of the Time Mage taking everything from her... it was a fear that went beyond just the end of life. It was the end of who they were, of who she was.
And I couldn't help but wonder if I could protect her from that. Could I protect any of them?
I shoved my hands into my pockets. The silence between us stretched on, but I could feel the unspoken words, the shared fear, hanging in the air. Neither of us said a word, but I knew she was thinking the same thing.
"I could tell you what happened, but I'd rather hear your version first. Did you enjoy the show?"
Her gaze flickered, and for a brief moment, I caught the flicker of surprise in her eyes. It was quickly replaced by a light smirk, but I could tell she was holding back. "You know how it is. A little chaos here, a little magic there. Just another day in the life of a mage, right?" she replied, her tone a bit too casual.
I raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.
"But still, I can't help but notice that you came out of it looking... well, changed."
"Changed?" I echoed. "What do you mean?"
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "It's like you're carrying something now—heavier, maybe?"
I let her words hang in the air for a moment, considering how to respond. "I guess I'm just... aware. Aware of the risks, the stakes, the fact that everything can change in an instant. And you know what? I'm scared."
Lil's expression softened, and I could see the vulnerability hidden beneath her bravado. "Scared of what?"
"Of losing everyone," I admitted, my voice quieter now. "Of being too late to do anything."
Lil's eyes searched mine, and I could feel the weight of her scrutiny. She opened her mouth, perhaps to offer reassurance or some comforting words, but instead, she paused. The silence that followed felt heavy, like the air before a storm.
"Shay," she began slowly, "you're not the only one who feels like this."
I stopped, the weight of her words hanging in the air.
"The Time Mage turned back time fully four times before," I said grimly.
Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, the confident mask she usually wore slipped away, revealing genuine surprise. "What? How do you know this?"
"I've seen glimpses—echoes of my past lives," I replied, a chill creeping up my spine at the thought. "Each time, it's been a disaster."
Lil paused, her brow furrowing as she processed my words. "But why do you remember? I don't have any of that. Why you?" Her voice was edged with uncertainty, a flicker of doubt crossing her features.
"I've been trying to change fate for a long time—longer than you realize. Even without my memories, I've always been trying to change the outcomes of the future. It's like an instinct. But every time the Time Mage's magic touched me, it pulled some of those memories back—fragments, moments, feelings."
Her gaze flickered, uncertainty clouding her expression as she wrestled with the weight of my confession.
"But this is my last chance," I admitted, my voice dropping to a whisper. "The Time Mage is running out of time."
"So, Lil… I need you to promise me something," I added abruptly.
"What is it?" she asked, her skepticism evident but willing to hear me out.
"Don't use your elemental's final form. Not ever." I met her gaze, the seriousness of my tone cutting through the air.
She opened her mouth to argue but paused, taking in the information. "You're serious."
The realization washed over her—there was no way I could have known about her elemental's power without a deeper connection to her past. That moment solidified her belief in me.
I nodded, the silence between us thickening.
"More than I've ever been," I replied, the weight of my past echoing in my words.
Lil grabbed my hand, her grip firm and reassuring. Before I could say anything more, she concentrated, her magic swirling around us like a warm breeze. I felt a tug at my core, and in an instant, the world around us dissolved into a kaleidoscope of colors.
We reappeared in her living room, the familiar cozy atmosphere wrapping around us like a soft blanket. The scent of herbs and incense lingered in the air, and I could hear the gentle rustle of leaves from the plants she kept scattered throughout the room.
"We can talk more privately here," she said, her voice low. "I didn't want to discuss my abilities at Livius's residence. Too many ears. Too many eyes."
I nodded, understanding.
For a long moment, we stood in silence, the atmosphere thick with unspoken thoughts and lingering tension. The air felt charged, almost electric, as we absorbed the weight of what we'd just faced. Lil's expression was a mix of determination and apprehension, her brow slightly furrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line.
She still held my hand, and I could feel the steady pulse of her magic beneath the surface, a quiet rhythm that soothed and ignited the chaos in my mind at the same time.
As I looked at her, I saw more than just a powerful mage; I saw a person I had known for longer than I could have ever imagined. The tension in her shoulders hinted at the weight she carried—not just her own worries but the burden of the entire magical community.
"What are you thinking?" I finally asked, breaking the silence.
Lil hesitated, her eyes searching mine for something. She let go of my hand as if my touch scorched her. The air between us thickened, and I felt an inexplicable pang of loss at her withdrawal.
"Lil," I said softly, my thumb brushing against her cheek, the gesture both tender and urgent. "Promise me."
Her breath hitched at my touch, and I could see the conflict warring within her, the flicker of uncertainty clouding her fierce spirit. I had changed her fate once; I had saved her from death. But shadows of another scenario still loomed.
She averted her gaze, a mixture of defiance and despair etched across her features. "I cannot promise you something like that."
A pang shot through my chest, a bitter ache that settled deep within me. For a moment, silence enveloped us, heavy with unspoken fears and lingering doubts.
"Very well," I finally said, my voice steady. "Then I will make you this promise: If you ever even think about using your elemental's final form, I will stop you. I will do everything in my power to ensure you fail."
As her eyes met mine again, I searched for a flicker of understanding. In that moment, I wanted her to see that I was fighting not just for her magic, but for the person she was—fire and all.
Lil's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed into a sharp gaze as she hit my hands away. "You're of a rare kind, Shay," she said, her voice steady but laced with an edge. "No one has dared to defy me like this for a long time."
I chuckled softly, the tension in the room momentarily lifting. "Well, someone has to keep you on your toes, right? Otherwise, you might just start thinking you can do whatever you want without consequences."
A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a fleeting spark of amusement amidst the seriousness of our situation. "You're more fearless than I anticipated. That could either get you killed or...."
I leaned in slightly, the playful glint in my eyes matching hers. "Or what? Make me even more irresistible?"
Her laughter was soft but filled with an unspoken tension. "You really think that's how this works? You're playing a dangerous game, Shay."
"Dangerous is my middle name," I quipped, a teasing smirk spreading across my face. "But seriously, if you think I'm going to back down just because you have a bit of power, you clearly don't know me well enough yet."
Her eyes sparkled with a mix of challenge and intrigue. "Well, since we're flirting with danger here, how about I make us some cocoa?"
I raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Cocoa? Is that your secret weapon against monsters like me?"
She laughed lightly, a sound that felt like a breath of fresh air in the heavy atmosphere.
"But I'm not letting you escape that easily. I'll hold you to that about your elemental."
She rolled her eyes playfully as she moved toward the kitchen. "You really are relentless, aren't you? But you'd better be prepared to face the consequences."
"Oh, I'm ready for whatever you've got," I called after her, enjoying the banter as she started rummaging through her cupboards. "Just know that I'll be right here, waiting to challenge you again."
Lil glanced over her shoulder, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "You have no idea what you're asking for, Shay. But if you think you can keep up, then bring it on."
With that, she turned back to her task.
As Lil busied herself in the kitchen, I moved to the table, taking a seat where the warm glow of the morning light filtered through the window. I leaned back, crossing my arms, a playful smile still lingering on my lips.
"Hey, Lil," I called out, my voice carrying a teasing lilt. "While we wait for that cocoa, how about you summon your elemental for me?"
She paused, her back to me, and I could almost feel her weighing the request. "You sure you want to see that?" she replied, glancing over her shoulder, a mixture of curiosity and caution in her gaze. "It's not exactly a simple show-and-tell."
"C'mon," I replied, leaning forward slightly, the playful challenge in my tone unmistakable. "I promise I won't be scared."
Lil took a moment, her expression thoughtful. Finally, she turned fully toward me, a grin spreading across her face. "Alright then, but don't say I didn't warn you."
"Flamma Anima!"
With a flourish of her hand, she called forth her elemental. The air crackled with energy, and a small flame danced to life in front of her, flickering and twisting in a playful display. It hovered between us, tiny, almost delicate, like a candlelight.
But I knew better.
She gave me a sly smile, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Behold, the magnificent power of my elemental!" she declared with exaggerated grandeur as if presenting a grand spectacle.
To the untrained eye, it seemed like a simple spark, harmless and playful. But I could feel it—the raw energy beneath the surface, the immense power hidden behind its unassuming form. Most elementals weren't even visible to the naked eye. The tiny flame was merely a fraction of its true strength.
I chuckled softly, leaning back in my chair but never taking my eyes off the flame. "I've seen enough magic to know when something's hiding more than it shows. This little thing... it's not even close to your real power, is it?"
Lil's smirk deepened. "Maybe, maybe not. But you seem awfully intrigued by something so small."
I raised an eyebrow, meeting her gaze. "Because I know it could burn the world if you let it."
As I met her gaze, a flicker of something stirred deep in my mind—a fragment of a memory, half-forgotten but too vivid to ignore. It came in flashes, like the afterimage of a lightning strike.
I remembered the elemental. Its high-pitched, hitching laughter as it danced, feeding off her magic. The air had been thick, unbearable, searing with heat. Each breath felt like inhaling fire, burning my lungs from the inside out. Leaves crumbled to ash before they even touched the ground, disintegrating in the intensity of her magic. The screams… the screams still echoed in my ears. The smell of burning flesh lingered like a shadow in my mind.
But it was her eyes that haunted me the most.
I could still see them—drained of life, hollowed by the magic that had devoured everything.
Her expression faltered for just a second, the playful mask slipping as she realized I wasn't fooled. Then, with a flick of her wrist, the spark vanished, leaving the room in its usual warmth.
She turned back to the kitchen counter, her tone light again. "Now, how do you like your cocoa?"
I smiled, still feeling the lingering energy from her elemental. "Surprise me. I have a feeling you're full of those."
Lil glanced over her shoulder, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Careful what you wish for," she teased, her voice dripping with that playful edge, though I could still feel the undercurrent of something deeper.
As she moved around the kitchen, I leaned back in my chair, letting my gaze follow her. The memory of her elemental still pulsed faintly in my mind, like a warning I couldn't shake. She was powerful—more than even she let on.
But then there was this side of her—the one who made cocoa, who smirked when she thought no one was watching, who, for all her strength, still seemed… human. Still vulnerable.
"I like seeing you this… domestic," I said, raising an eyebrow as she poured the milk into a pot, the sound of it bubbling gently filling the space between us.
Lil rolled her eyes but didn't hide the smile. "Don't get used to it. This is a special occasion."
"What makes this one special?"
She didn't answer immediately, just stirred the cocoa with a slow, deliberate motion. Then, with a sideways glance, she said, "You. You make it different."
It was such a simple statement, but it carried weight. I felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the elemental or the cocoa.
I chuckled softly, leaning forward. "You know, if you keep being this sweet, I might start thinking you actually like me."
Lil shot me a look over her shoulder, her smirk deepening. "Oh, don't worry, I'll ruin that impression soon enough."
I laughed quietly, watching her pour the cocoa into two mugs, steam rising from the rich liquid. The warmth in the room was almost comforting, a strange contrast to the weight of everything we'd been talking about. For a moment, it felt like the world outside didn't exist—just her, me, and the cocoa.
She set a mug in front of me, her fingers brushing mine briefly as she pulled away. That small touch sent a jolt through me, but I kept my expression casual, raising the cup to my lips. It tasted rich and sweet, with a hint of spice, a signature twist that was undeniably hers.
The silence between us was heavy again, but this time, it felt different—less tense, more intimate. The air was thick with unspoken thoughts, emotions neither of us were fully prepared to confront.
I leaned forward slightly, setting my mug down on the table, the warmth of the cocoa lingering in my palms. The playful air between us softened as I studied her, knowing that what I was about to ask would shift things back into dangerous territory.
"Lil," I began, my voice quieter now, more serious, "I need you to do something for me."
She tilted her head, curiosity flashing in her eyes as she straightened from where she leaned against the counter. "What is it?"
I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. "I need you to reach out to the other mages. To start building alliances… in my name."
Her expression hardened almost instantly, the playful warmth in her gaze dimming as the weight of what I was asking hit her.
"And what if they refuse?" she asked quietly.
"They won't," I said, with more confidence than I felt. "Because you'll make them see. You know what's at stake."
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, I thought she might refuse. But then she let out a breath, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction.
"I'll do it," she said finally, her voice firm but tinged with resignation.
As Lil turned to leave, I reached out, my fingers gently brushing against the back of her hand. She stopped, looking down at our hands, her skin warm under my touch. For a moment, we both sat there, suspended between words unspoken and the weight of everything I had just asked of her.
"Thank you, Lil," I said softly, my thumb lightly caressing her hand. "I know what this means. I don't take it lightly."
She glanced up, her eyes meeting mine. There was something raw in her gaze, something that flickered between vulnerability and strength. Her lips curved into a small, almost reluctant smile.
Her hand lingered in mine for a moment longer.
"I won't let you down," I whispered, holding her gaze.
"You better not," she replied, her smirk returning, though it didn't quite mask the seriousness behind her words.
With one last gentle squeeze of her hand, I let go.