Rule number one: Demons Lie.

Guess what! For some reason I've been working on Rosewater and Wine like a mad woman since I finished with school and guess what! I'm going to give you an entire chapter! I hope it makes sense with little context!
It's funny, because when i was working on this in November, all I could think was 'Ugh, when I go back to reread this in a few months I am going to h a t e it and it's going to be awful' but, in reality, I don't hate it at all and it's actually still good. Amazing. That rarely happens. Especially because I'm basically working outside of my normal genre here. Anyway, good, here, have this, take it.

Rowena woke to the feeling of a cool hand pressed against her face.  

“At this point, half of the school has noted your absence and is looking for you. Depending on how you are feeling you can either make your way back yourself or be forced to wait here.”  

She blinked blearily. Mephisto leaned back on his heels as she sat up. She pressed a cautious hand to her forehead. Gods, her head hurt.  

“Did you take Catherine back?” She frowned at her hands, wondering why she was seeing six of them.  

“Yes.”  

“Is she…?” Rowena didn’t finish the question as she realised that she potentially did not want to know the answer.  

The demon just shrugged his shoulders, noncommittal. “Only time will tell.”  

Not quite the answer she was expecting. Very well, then.  

“How much of a wrench does this throw into your plans?” She asked, not being snarky for once, just sincerely curious.  

He looked at her a long time before he spoke, possibly deciding whether she even merited a response. She had come to him for help, though. Using his name had been purposeful, she knew that he would come. How had that happened? He was still the enemy. Now, though, it seemed that they both had a common enemy as well. What was that saying? Something about the enemy of my enemy is my friend? That wasn’t it, and that also wasn’t quite right but the point still stood. They were somehow going to have to help each other with this situation. He probably wouldn’t see it like that, but whatever. Because now her life was on the line, and if he really needed her so badly then he would do everything in his power to see her unharmed by this new threat.  

“It does propose new complications,” he allowed.  

She raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that that was not the final answer.  

“Nothing too serious, however. Ally has attempted to complicate my plans in the past and failed then, she will fail this time too.”  

There was a decided tone in his voice that sounded unconvinced, though. Rowena could hear it, although she sensed that she was not supposed to. She wasn’t going to prod him, however. He seemed to be in one of his more human moods and if she could stretch it out for as long as she could then she was going to damn well try.  

She tried to stand, but felt too dizzy and fell back down. She noticed Mephisto quickly draw his hand back that he had been stretching out to assist her. She blinked, trying to clear her head, maybe she had just imagined that? It didn’t matter anyway. He had woken her by touching her though, that was strange in and of itself. She shook her head, no, he was a demon who did not care at all what happened to her as long as he got what he wanted. That was all.  

“I’m going home,” she whispered. 

His eyes narrowed.  

She managed a weak smile. “I have to. Winter holiday? It’s next week. I’ll be home for three weeks.”  

He said nothing. It was frankly making her a bit nervous.  

“Great timing, huh?” 

“You will not be safe away from this school.” 

She blinked. “What?” 

“Unless I go with you, however,” he mused, ignoring her completely.  

“Since when have you cared about my safety?” She asked incredulously.  

He glanced at her condescendingly, “You haven’t been in any danger until now.” 

Rowena rolled her eyes. Trailed by a demon all quarter and learning that she was some form of powerful black mage and she had never been in any danger. Right.  

“Well, you’re not coming with me. So, I suppose I’ll just have to hold my own for the next few weeks.” She told him flatly.  

He just looked at her. 

Her eyes widened. “You’re not. You can’t.” 

“I can do whatever I like, Rowena, it would do you well to remember that.” He snapped. 

Unlike previous moments in which he’d snapped at her, she wasn’t filled with the usual feelings of terror. In fact, she just felt plain irritated.  

“I will not put my family in danger for the sake of my safety.” She snarled.  

Mephisto raised one eyebrow at her tone. He was noticing that she was becoming more and more brave with him. That likely was not a good thing.  

“They won’t be in any danger from me.” 

“Am I supposed to believe you? Honestly?” She shook her head, then realised how bad of an idea that had been when the world began to spin again. This time Mephisto’s hand did reach out to steady her. Her head told her to flinch away from his touch, but her body let his strength keep her from crashing down onto the stone steps again.  

This is a demon touching you. She told herself sharply. Remember that. He means you no good. He is still the enemy.  

“Isn’t the system working fine now? Why can’t I just go home and if something happens with… with Allezera I’ll just summon you?”  

He shook his head. “It wouldn’t work. The only reason this tactic has worked for you thus far is because I have been nearby. I would never make it to you in time if Allezera did find you.”  

Rowena scowled. “Aren’t I some powerful black mage? Can’t I handle myself?” 

“Oh, like you handled yourself against her a few minutes ago?” He said dryly.  

She still couldn’t move without the world spinning dangerously around her. She sighed. It was all she could do to not consider how comfortable their conversation was right now. When she had felt something shift between them in the woods before she had thought it was going to be different in a… different way. She thought he was going to become colder towards her, more like the demon he was. This was not what she had been expecting.  

She was defeated though. Because as much as she did not want to admit it (and would never admit it to him) she was terrified of Allezera. Because Allezera was something that Mephisto was not - she was ruthless. Not saying that Mephisto could not be ruthless, he had just proven himself to use different methods to get what he wanted. Allezera would also have no qualms in seriously hurting Rowena and those around her. Mephisto threatened those around Rowena, but as long as she complied with his will everyone would be fine. So he said. So she was forced to believe. 

Rule number one: demons lie.  

“What do you propose we do?” 

His lips twitched slightly at her use of the word ‘we.’ He finally straightened up from his semi-crouched position. She expected him to begin pacing, but instead he simply moved to sit down on the mausoleum steps beside her.   

“Rowena de Beaumont,” he said her name appraisingly. She frowned at the demon. “A Black mage born of a fire weaving family with a defective fear gene.” She rolled her eyes at the last part. “I will give you what you want just this once.”  

She couldn’t help the expression of puzzled surprise that flitted across her face. 

“I will be nearby during your time at home, but you will not see me.” He explained.  

She was skeptical, how would she know that he wasn’t going to turn up at her door with some bizarre story to mask what he was?  

“I won’t see you?”  

“Not unless you really want to,” his tone was shockingly teasing, but then he returned to his normal serious self, “you know how to find me.” 

“You can be that far away from the fault line?” 

 He shot her a bemused look. “My being does not depend upon the fault line. It does make my power stronger, but nothing more." 

She just shrugged, she wouldn’t have known that. She didn’t know much about demons, especially not half demons who had once been human.  

“I should get back,” she said softly. She tried to stand, wincing slightly at the pounding in her head. Mephisto was already on his feet and helping her up, one of her hands in his and his other hand on her elbow. She frowned slightly and looked up, meeting his eyes. She had absolutely no idea what she saw there but it was ancient and inexplicably sad. Her hand tightened on his.  

The demon said nothing, he broke the gaze when he looked up and whistled softly for Morrigan. The lesser demon flew down from the trees and onto his shoulder.  

“Traitor,” Rowena murmured towards the raven shaped demon. 

“No,” Mephisto said softly as he removed the hand that was on her elbow and brought it up to the bird. The hand holding hers remained. Morrigan hopped down onto Mephisto’s hand and he brought the bird over to her shoulder. “All it means is that we are on the same side now.” 

Rowena flinched away from him, horrified. His hand tightened on hers, but it wasn’t overtly threatening. He leaned down so that his face was next to her ear.  

“You are still going to help me with my plans, and I will ensure that Allezera does not splatter you across the face of the graveyard. We work together now.”  

His voice had dropped and sounded distinctly less human and distinctly more demon like. Rowena shivered. He was still holding her hand. His skin was surprisingly warm. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, if she was expecting it to be freezing or boiling. It wasn’t either extreme, though, it felt like normal skin. She was wondering when he would realise it and let her go.  

“Can you walk on your own?” He asked.  

She nodded. “I should think so.”  

He let go of her hand then, finally. She wasn’t sure if she was glad for it or not. She was surprised to find him walking beside her back to the school. Usually he would have disappeared by now, gone off to wherever it is demons go to when they’re not in the physical world. She cut a glance at him from the corner of her eye. She had been so caught up in everything that had been going on with her magic and the school and him that she hadn’t really noticed… him. Which was fine, that was good even, he wasn’t even human. Still, though, he had fine classic features and those dark blue eyes and his dark hair was swept back from a widow’s peak but a few strands had worked themselves free and were framing his face. He was undeniably attractive.  

Also a demon.   

It was likely a problem that she was constantly having to remind herself of that. Oh well. If she was going to be bound to a demon bent on destroying the whole of the New world, at least he was a good looking one.  

He was still walking silently beside her when the school was finally in sight. She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her coat, disturbing Morrigan, who flapped her wings irritably before resettling herself on her shoulder. She glanced at him again, wondering why he hadn’t left yet. What was he planning?  

Unless he was just making sure she actually reached the school in one piece… But the protective act didn’t quite fit the demon very well. He hadn’t really proven to care very much before, she didn’t really think that this new threat of Allezera would really cause him to care that much now.  

Mephisto caught her looking at him this time. He raised one eyebrow. “Yes?” 

Feeling heat rise on her face, Rowena looked down. “You’re still here.”  

He didn’t seem to quite understand her meaning. “I am.”  

They were in the courtyard now and Rowena was becoming progressively more confused. While he had appeared in completely conspicuous places before, they had all been places where it was easy to ensure that no one else was around.   

She looked up at him again, then looked as pointedly as she could towards the school. It was as outright as she was capable of telling him to leave. She may be more bold with him than she should be, but she was not going to just tell him what to do. That would be asking for his wrath, and his wrath was one thing she was trying very hard to not draw right now.  

“I-I think I’ll be ok from here.” She said.  

It finally seemed to click with him. He absently ran his thumb down his jawline a few times as he looked up at the school in thought.  

Rowena was suddenly hit with the feeling that there was still more that he wasn’t telling her. Well, of course there was, but more about him. More about why he was doing this, more about why he chose to become a monster. Because in the spans of time she had been with him today she was struck with how human he seemed. She didn’t know if it was Allezera’s appearance that drew out the small bit of humanity in him, but it was there all the same. There had been a few moments where she had forgotten what he was, and that rarely ever happened when she was around him. Something else was going on, but she doubted that he would ever tell her what it was.  

He finally looked down at her, “There is a chance that your friend is Allezera’s now.”  

Rowena bit her lip. Cat… If Allezera had truly possessed Cat, then she would be gone completely. There would be no coming back for her. True high demons craved possession, it was what kept them in the New world once they were summoned. That explained how Mephisto could remain on this side of the fault line without possessing anyone. Well, she thought he hadn’t possessed anyone. She didn’t actually know and she was quite certain that she didn’t want to find out.  

“If that is the case then you will have to be… especially careful.”  

“They will know, won’t they? If she is possessed.”  

Mephisto shrugged. “Allezera can be quite good at blending in.” He saw the look on her face and his face softened almost imperceptibly. “Morrigan will know, though, so you will not be caught off guard.” 

“Should I tell them? If she is… blending in?” 

“That’s for you to decide.” 

It was sounding suspiciously as if he was not going to be available to summon. “And where are you going?” 

He blinked. “None of your concern.” His tone was hard and she knew that she had lost the human part of him, the demon was back in full force.  

She sighed. That had been strangely nice while it had lasted. Oh well, it was better to fear him anyway. It reminded her that he was the one she was still fighting against.  

She shifted Morrigan on her shoulder and started up the steps to the school. Oh… He was going to be nearby while she was home, but she would not see him. This was the last time she would have contact with him until she returned to school. Before she thought better of it and stopped herself, she glanced over her shoulder. He was gone, though, and it was practically like he had never been there in the first place.  

Rowena stopped and stared down at her feet. What was even going on with her? This wasn’t normal, this wasn’t ok. Was she developing feelings for him? For Mephisto? For a demon? Not only a demon, but one who was going to force her to unleash hell onto earth. It had been better before she had figured out what he used to be. Before she had realised that he had once been like her. She could see his humanity now, when it came. There were flashes of it, every so often, flashes of emotion, flashes of extremes that no demon would possess. But she wasn’t entirely certain that it was the human side of him that she was developing these feelings for. Because it wasn’t like she saw that side often, it wasn’t like that was even a side of him. Because it wasn’t. His humanity was only there in flashes and sparks. It was so beaten, so tempered, so bruised that it was nearly gone and only a flicker remained. She wasn’t sure that it was the flicker that was drawing her in, though.  

She shook her head, and that was the last straw for Morrigan, who flew off her shoulder. She wasn’t going to think about this. This was silly. He wasn’t human. He was a demon. The most powerful of dark beings. He didn’t care about her. All he cared about was what she was able to do for him. That was what she had to remember. It didn’t matter how much it might seem like he did care, he didn’t.  

Rule number one. Demons lie.  

She had forgotten the other rules. She realised that the other rules really didn’t matter. 

In Defense of the Genre

So, The Hunger Games movie came out! As if you didn't already know! It's popular now, really popular, so popular that I feel weird now when I have to say things like, "Well, I read the first book, like, two years ago so everything was a bit fuzzy for me with the little details." My intention is not to rub in that whole 'I was a fan before it was cool' I just... literally read this series long before this hype started. That's all.
With that said, I've been watching this thing explode with moderate interest and quite a bit of enjoyment. When Twilight blew up like this really all i felt was quite a bit of horror. We all know why, i'm not really going to go into that. The thing is, though, is that unlike Twilight, The Hunger Games is really good.
Pros and Cons, though. Pros and Cons.
See, the great thing about this trilogy becoming really popular is that more people will take notice to the YA genre as a whole. It's proving itself to be what I've always known it to be: freaking fantastic.
But see, in and of itself, that's a huge con. Because let's face it, Suzanne Collins is not the best writer out there. She's efficient if not elegant. Her writing is not really that great. The concept of THG and the characters in THG are what keep it going, but there is a lot that is muddled with the writing. And that's where those completely irritating arguments of 'Well... it is YA' come from. I will beat the next person i hear say that with The Demon's Lexicon trilogy, The Abhorsen Chronicles, The Pellinor series, Graceling and Fire, The Curse Workers trilogy and everything in the genre that proves that you are so freaking wrong in underestimating these books.
Is it all good? No. If you go to the YA section of the bookstore will you see hundreds of A. Paranormal/Vampire books and B. Books with sad looking girls in long flowing dresses? Yes, indeed you will. The thing is, though, is that is not the YA genre as a whole. Sometimes you have to pick through the mess of mopey girls in ball gowns to find the gems, but they are definitely there. And the thing is, is that they are no less good when compared to any 'adult' literature. They are just pointed towards a more forgiving demographic. Because that's the thing, would adult fiction really want to read a story about two brothers, one who just so happens to be a demon? Or a story about a girl who can travel into Death and control the Dead with some bells? Probably not. But those stories were written for YA because it's in YA in which they're accepted and enjoyed and they flourish.
I mean, people make the complaint that the YA genre is nothing but vampire books now and that none of them were good. Obviously I have to call that out as well because that means they've never read the Vampire Academy series by Richelle Mead (accurate religious folklore AND my favourite evil!boyfriend trope? yes, flawless) or The Morganville Vampire series by Rachel Caine (such great worldbuilding in one small town).
Personally, the trend that I think needs to die is the weird influx of books about fallen angels. i have yet to read one of those and have it be good (hush, hush was decent but i never read any of the books after it... so it could have gone either way). I digress, however.
Anyway, my point to all of this would likely be to stop putting it down just because you think you are of some high mind because you read 'adult fiction' or whatever it is those books are even called. Don't compare your books to YA books when they aren't written for the same demographic. And please, please stop calling it a children's genre. Be aware that the ages that read YA go from about 12 to 20 along with all the adults that read it. Saying it's a genre for children just shows your ignorance.

With that, this aspiring YA fantasy writer takes her leave to stare angrily at her novel. *spins away*

The Hand's Bloodied Past

No, no this scene hasn't taken me a week to write. No, every time I go to write I don't now stare blankly at my word processor and think to myself what the hell is Torin even doing. No, I have no idea what's actually going on in this scene... No, that's silly.
/falls facedown on the floor and weeps.
I actively complain about Torin. If you even know me a tiny bit, you'll know this. You probably also think I'm joking, or being silly. Hahahahahahahahahahahno. No, I'm dead serious. Stupid Torin actually has control of my entire novel.
So, here, read this. Read this and know that I am completely baffled as to why he's acting like this because he doesn't normally (well, no, he does... but... not at this point in the story.... this is more like book three Torin than book one...)
*crawls over to the corner to cry*

~**~~**~~

The mage opened a door that seemed completely nondescript. Jaerick’s hand shot out and brushed Artanna’s arm. The wizard made no motion in acknowledgement, but the night elf’s touch gave her some last brief moment of comfort. She shut her eyes for just a heartbeat and tried to collect herself. It was time for her to stop being broken. It was time to stop running. 

“Forgive my intrusions, my lord. I thought it best to not bother the Master with this.” The mage’s demeanour changed significantly when he entered the room. He seemed scared now, scared for his life. 

They were forcibly pushed into the room this time. The temperature became distinctly colder the instant they stepped inside. Artanna carefully positioned herself to be last in the room, which was a study of some sort. The wall was lined with book cases and there was a large round table in the centre of the room. Maps and papers and overturned books were strewn about the tabletop. The shadowmage was lounging carelessly in a chair at the head of the table, a book in one hand. He was spinning a dagger lazily on the tabletop with his free hand. He glanced up at the mage, spared a glance towards the group, and nodded his head slightly. He looked back down at his book and then tossed it onto the table. 

“I am rather disappointed that they are not dead yet,” He said, dropping his one leg from where it was draped over the arm of the chair and leaning back. “Or, at least, unconscious….” 

“They seemed fine when we came outside, my lord.” 

“Mmm, pity.” His mismatched eyes calmly took in each one of them in turn. They paused when they reached Artanna, hidden from underneath her hood. His eyes immediately darted to her hands, but she had them carefully tucked within the folds of her cloak. She wasn’t going to make that mistake twice. He absently scratched at the tattoos on his chin, then waved out the guards. The door closed with an ominously loud slam as they went.

“Two wood elves, a night elf, and…” he trailed off, but the slight pause was enough. “And a human.”

Artanna wasn’t sure how she hadn’t shattered yet. It was physically painful to hear him speak, to see his face, to watch him move. He was standing now. He took one step towards them, but then seemed to think better of it, and stopped. 

“Well, you had your fun, you got our attention. Now what do you want?” His voice dropped to a tone that Artanna knew without question was dangerous, she remembered it well enough. Before he even gave Jardon enough time to speak, though, he waved him off. “No, I know what you want.” 

“For your lands to cease their assault upon mine?” Jardon said dryly. 

Artanna smiled to herself. The elf prince was not so easily cowed by Torin’s reputation. Artanna had been worried about him. Worried mostly about how he would handle himself. She was now quietly chiding herself for doubting the elf, he had been around far longer than she, he knew what he was doing. 

“Ah,” the dagger was suddenly in Torin’s hand. Artanna’s eyes narrowed, she could have sworn that he had left it on the table when he had stood up. “I thought as much. What is it you are offering for this?” 

“We are offering nothing,” Jardon said, his tone hard. 

“That would be where these negotiations may become rather rocky.” Torin stabbed the knife down deep into the grain of the table. “Because, you see, I am not willing to give something for nothing, and I can speak with certainty on my lord, Urüvion’s behalf.” He was silent for a moment, as he thought, “I could listen to your petition on one condition.” Artanna felt her stomach drop when he nodded towards her, “Remove your hood, my lady.”

Artanna shot a glance towards her companions. They were waiting for her to decide what the next move was, this was going to be all up to her. The elves could attempt their desperate plan to hold off Urüvion’s forces, but Artanna knew that Torin was going to be less than willing to listen to any kind of reasonings that they gave him. If she did as he asked though…. Well, she suspected that he already knew well enough so what was it going to matter in the end? It would change everything, though. Her plan would fall through the cracks and she would have to play by ear from here on out. It was a risk she was going to have to take because she knew that Torin would give them nothing if they did not do as he asked. He would still likely give them nothing, but at least now he might hold off for a little while longer before he killed them. 

She reached up and pushed her hood back, shaking her head slightly, freeing her long black hair. She couldn’t help the slightly black smile the somehow fell upon her lips when she met his eyes. It was uncharacteristic of her, as well as completely contradictory to how she really felt in that moment. Even so, she knew it was unsettling. 

Maybe she had been wrong to assume that he had suspected. Even though his face didn’t change - his ability to keep his face completely blank was astounding, and unnerving - she could see something in his mismatched eyes shift. Then his lips twisted into a dark smile.

“Artanna, I should have known.” There was a distinctly dark edge to his normally disinterested voice.

“You really should have.” She quipped, flexing her fingers slightly. She couldn’t tell if he was going to strike or not, but she was not about to let herself be caught off guard. “I did nothing short of waving my hand in front of your face with that power draw, and yet,” she cocked her head to one side. “You still did not know….”

Torin had always hated to be reminded of his own mistakes, that was not something that was about to ever change. A muscle in his jaw tightened, but aside from that she got no reaction. She wasn’t sure why she wanted a reaction, she shouldn’t be goading him, and yet…. 

Suddenly, though, he was standing in front of her. A stab of fear ran through her, she hadn’t even seen him move. She had forgotten already. She had already forgotten how fast he was. How strong his magic really was. She had to forcibly stop herself from flinching away at his proximity. He took a lock of her hair and ran it through his fingers. 

“Well, this will be interesting, then, will it not?” He said, his voice soft but no less dangerous. 

Artanna shivered as the temperature plunged. She forced herself to look up and meet his mismatched eyes with her own. She found her gaze straying to the swirling black tattoos on the right side of his face. She realised with a start that she was terrified. This was the encounter that only her nightmares had forced her to experience. This was what she had been running from for so long. 

It seemed like he stood there for an age before he turned and walked back to his seat. Artanna finally let out a breath that she hadn’t realised she had been holding. 

*Rampant Confetti Toss*

Yesterday, I somehow miraculously whipped out just slightly over 6,000 words and hit 50,583 words, thus winning NaNoWriMo!
This was the first year I've ever done NaNo. In fact, in previous years I've expressed my utter disinterest in the whole matter. I can gladly say that my mind has been changed and I really like the whole idea of the matter. Granted, I would never use NaNo for anything other than writing a pretty bad draft. The speed that is required to work out 50K words in only a month makes for some sloppy writing at times. So, for me, this was perfect because it gave me an excuse to work on the novel that had been festering since the summer. Obviously, though, that's left my other novel abandoned and alone for a month. It was difficult at times to be working with unfamiliar characters and I fear that I really didn't get to know them as well as I could have in a month, however, because I have 50K of this first draft knocked out already, it's not going to get tucked away forever and never worked on again. Sometime after I finish this rewrite on Beyond All Redemption I'll drag this one back out and finish it off. Because, really, I only got through about half of the plot in 50k. I'm just too long winded, haha. I can't imagine someone wrapping up a story in only 50k words. I need at least 100k to get everything out and said in a story.
This is probably because of the world building I do... I learned a lot while doing this. I learned that fantasy is easier for me than even urban fantasy. That I'm probably just going to stick with high fantasy because it comes more naturally to me. That I tend to forsake all natural conventions of grammar when I'm writing really really fast. That the new spell check feature on the Mac is amazing because if you hold down a vowel key you can choose from its accents. ï løvé thàt (don't read that with the accents. it was just an example). That it's great time writing demons and necromancers, but I miss the ones that are in my other novel. I also learned that it's possible to write 50k words in a month while taking 16 college credit hours and swimming 20 hours a week. So, whatever your excuse is for not doing NaNo, I really don't think you have one.
Now, with all this said and done, I already have my work on Beyond All Redemption back up and am so very ready to work on it again. I've missed dear Artanna and Torin a great deal during the past month. With that, though, I'll leave you with one of the last scenes I wrote for NaNo (so, I guess this is halfway through the book, cool.)

“Mephisto!” She hissed, glancing around to make sure that she was truly alone. “Meph!”  

“You’re making a habit of this.” She glanced over her shoulder, he was lounging in one of the chairs, absently flipping through her Arxane. His tone was blatantly disapproving.  

“Trust me, I wish that I were not.”  

“What could you possibly want this time?”  

She stopped his hand as he was flipping the pages. He looked up at her sharply, she ignored his look as well as the fact that she was touching him and pushed the book farther open. She nodded towards the latest message. “That’s not yours?” 

He studied it. “No…” 

“I figured as much. Any ideas as to who it is?” She rested a hand on her hip.  

He glanced at her, taking in her posture with a bemused look, then back at the book. “I may have some suspicions.”  

“And?” 

He looked like he wasn’t going to answer her. Her fist clenched. If he told her that it wasn’t important, or none of her business, she was going to probably kill him right in the library. She didn’t care if it was practically impossible or that she technically didn’t have the strength to take out a high demon. If he told her something like that she would be angry enough to make up for those minor technicalities.  

“Allezera.” He said with blatant distaste.  

“What?” 

“Not what, who,” he shut the book. “Her name is Allezera.” 

“Are we referring to another demon?”  

He folded his hands over each other on the table. “Of a sort.” 

“Of the same sort as you?” 

He inclined his head in acknowledgment. Her eyes narrowed. “How many of you did this?” 

“Only myself and Allezera.”  

“But she wasn’t important enough to tell me about before?” 

“Obviously not.”  

Rowena let out a frustrated breath. And he said that she was impossible. “What does she want?” 

“You, obviously.” 

“No, not obviously.”  

He flipped the Arxane back open and glanced sidelong at the message. “No, it looks pretty obvious to me.”  

“What am I supposed to do then?” 

He shrugged. “She’s unpredictable. I can’t imagine how she found out about you, or even what she wants with you.” 

“Wouldn’t she want what you want as well?” 

“Hardly.” He scoffed. “Allezera has always had no one’s interests at heart but her own.” 

“Oh, implying that you care so much about people?” 

He raised an eyebrow. He didn’t even have to say that he knew that she knew what he meant. He just had to shoot her that sardonic, condescending look and she knew what it was he didn’t need to say. She hated that they were at that point. She hated that there was a point.  

“My advice is to just pretend like you never got the message.” 

“That sounds like a terrible idea.” She shook her head, then waved a hand. “Whatever, I should have known you would be no help.” 

“You wound me,” said Mephisto dryly.  

“What do you know about dark rangers?” she asked suddenly, changing the subject. 

He blinked his dark blue eyes. “Why do you ask?”  

“I feel like my reasonings should be fairly obvious.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be coy with me, Rowena.” 

“You’re one to talk.” She put her hands on the table, she considered sitting down but discarded the idea. She was taller than him right now as she was standing and he was sitting and she was going to keep it that way for a bit longer.  

“I take it you have been studying Shædanell?” 

She nodded.  

“They were the travellers through the realm of death.” 

“Were you from Shædanell?”  

He shook his head. “Vellïsar, when it was still Vellïsar. Before it became the New World, or Earth, as you all call it.”  

“Oh. How did you end up on this side of the rift…?” She let the question trail, not sure if what she was asking even made sense. 

“I was still human when the split happened.” He said softly. His face changed slightly, became softer and less cold. “I had been living in Shædanell and somehow timing was such that I was in Vellïsar when the split came to pass.” 

Her hands were very close to his on the table, and she almost wanted to reach out and touch his fold hands, but something stopped her. She knew that it would be a very bad idea. Not only would it shock him out of his current reflective state, but it would probably leave him irritated and impossible to deal with.  

“Were you a ranger?”  

He shook his head. “Gods, no. Do I look like a ranger?” 

He didn’t. He was too clean cut, too well put together. She couldn’t put him with how she pictured the rangers to look. Still though, it would have made her feel marginally better to hear he had done something sensible before he had decided to make one of the worst decisions imaginable.  

She sighed and finally sat down. His eyes narrowed at her and he flipped her Arxane back open. He looked at the message for a few long seconds, then flipped the book closed and stood.  

“Be on your guard. I do not know why Allezera might want you, but no matter what her reasons, she cannot have you.”  

“Oh, man, gods forbid someone else playing with your toy.” Rowena said sarcastically. 

“You’re my tool, not my toy.” He said, brushing a hand across her cheek.  

“Comforting.” 

He smiled and his disappearance was dramatic again. Roiling smoke that soon dissipated and left her alone in the library once more. 

We All Fall Down

Well, there are five days of NaNoWriMo left... and I can officially say that my plot has fallen apart. I didn't want to admit that at first, but it has made itself pretty clear to me that this is, in fact, a terrible first draft. This book is not going to be finished in 50,000 words. More like 80 or 90,000 it looks like. However, I plan on letting it simmer a bit after this month is over. Hopefully I can get some more coherence for it later. Right now, it's pretty messy. The pacing is all wrong and I feel like all of my transitions are just messy blackouts. It's also a whole lot of dialogue. This story is way more dialogue driven then anything I've ever written before. I'm used to my stories being action driven, but this one seems to be based solely on conversations, it's really strange. Anyway, this is practically the last coherent scene before it all spirals into various forms of chaos.

“Well, you have been learning, haven’t you?"  

Rowena nearly screamed. She whirled around. Mephisto was leaning over her desk, flipping through her Arxane. She slammed the door shut as fast as she could.  

“Must you do that?” 

He raised an eyebrow at her. “My terms, remember?” 

“Can’t your terms be a bit more reasonable?” She absently tossed a discarded sock into her open closet. “You could, I don’t know, at least let me know when you’re coming?” 

His face remained passively bemused. “That would, in some way, be implying that we are somehow on the same level, which,” he sat down on the window seat, which apparently had become his place in her room, “is not the case.” 

“Still, a bit of forewarning would be nice.”  

“I really am starting to wonder if you were born without a fear gene.”  

“It’s defective.”  

“Apparently.”  

That was a complete and utter lie. However, Rowena had decided quite early in this mess that he was not going to know just how terrified she truly was. If she could pretend that he didn’t phase her, hopefully he would believe it. Apparently, it was working thus far.  

He waved a hand in a sinister yet lazy manner. “Tell me, then, what it is you’ve been learning here.” 

“Why?” 

“So I can decide whether it is at all useful for my purpose.” His tone became drastically darker.  

Rowena frowned. "What is your purpose?" 

Mephisto put an exasperated hand to his forehead. "I have already been through this with you." 

"No, you've given me the cliche villain monologue. You can't expect me to believe that all of this is simply because you want to spawn destruction upon the world. Nothing is really that simple."  

He cut her a glare that nearly made her turn and jump straight out of the window. She held her ground, though, unwilling to give him information until he finally gave some to her.  

"I don't really know what you are expecting me to tell you." 

"The truth?" 

He shot her a sardonic look this time. She shrugged, realising what she had just said and the very first rule of dealing with demons. She still had minor doubts about his true nature, though, and she sensed that his reasonings behind them would explain something at the very least.  

He did not relent, however, just shook his head slightly. "No, you know I distinctly recall saying something only moments ago about our levels. You are not on the same level as I am. 

You are nothing more than a pawn, you do not command the respect required for me to tell you anything."  

Rowena scowled, frustrated. "Then I'm not telling you what the headmistress has been teaching me," she snapped. 

"It does not work like that, Rowena." 

She shivered. She hated how he used her name, it was a power hold over her and he knew it. There was a fey tradition about never giving anyone your real name because that would give them power over you. Humans rarely ever believed in this tradition, but Rowena knew that it held a grain of truth. When he used her name he sounded infinitely more intimidating.  

"You are supposed to be cooperating, remember?" He stood up and knocked over a picture frame that held a photograph of Georgiana and one of her old school friends. It fell forward with a muffled clatter. His point was made, however. "If not her, I could always use the other girls. They live near here, do they not?" 

Violet and Catherine. Rowena didn't want them dragged into this any more than they already were. Violet remained intrigued and altogether too involved in the situation. Catherine was a quiet girl and it was difficult to tell what she was thinking most of the time, but she expressed interest whenever their midnight escapades came up in conversation. She didn't want anything to happen to any of these girls, but she was still loathe to cooperate with the demon.  She could do as he asked, but she was not going to do it without a fight. 

He seemed to realise that. "It really is futile." His voice sounded almost infinitesimally soft. "It will do you no good to fight this."  

"You can't expect me to just lie down and willingly help you." Rowena countered. "At least give me a chance to ruin everything for you." 

He smirked. "Of course I won't do that."  

Rowena shrugged.  

"Now," he tossed her the Arxane and sat back down at the window seat. He nodded, "What progress have you made?" 

Rowena flipped blankly through her Arxane. "The Old language? The headmistress has..." She trailed off. Mephisto held up a hand to silence her. He seemed to be staring right at her with an expression of extreme concentration plastered on his face. She realised that he was looking past her, it was as if she wasn't even there. He was like that, frozen and unmoving, for quite some time before he dropped his hand and leaned back. 

"Henrietta?" 

Rowena nodded. 

"This won't do."  

She sighed, exasperated. "What do you mean?" 

"Stop asking me questions," he snapped.  

She flinched visibly, a shock of fear running through her system. It took her a moment to remind herself that he was not allowed to touch her. She was still safe, it was her friends that she had to worry about right now. Not herself. It would all be so much easier if she just had to worry about herself.  

He stood up and paced in the small room. As if he wasn't already making the room feel cramped and claustrophobic. This was just making the problem worse. She scooted her chair back to give him more space, careful to stay as far away as she possibly could. She had always thought that being around demons made people nauseous or at the very least gave them headaches. She felt nothing though, in fact, she felt fine. The other girls had all said that they had felt sick when they had summoned him in the graveyard, Rowena was the only one that felt nothing. She knew that that was a sign of her powers. She knew that it was obvious and staring her right in the face, but she pushed it away and tried to ignore it. The longer she could live in denial about this, the better.  

"How much does she know?" he implored. 

She shrugged, "I don't know. Only what one can perceive initially. She knows that my magic is hinged on the Old World and with the Old Languages. She's been teaching me the languages..." she trailed off again, the look on his face telling her that saying anymore might be an unwise decision.  

"But does she know?" 

"If she does she has not said anything to me about it." Rowena failed to mention the fact that magic had moved along the web when she had done nothing more than say the old language word for death. She sensed his reaction might blow half of the wing to kingdom come. "I would assume that she does not, because it will get me expelled." 

"It won't." 

She rolled her eyes. He noticed and his deep blue eyes narrowed.  

"If you were nothing more than a dark mage, then you would be out of the school without a moments notice. However, you are attuned with the Old World. The professors at Alwhich are hardly going to let a student in tune with the Old World slip through their fingers so easily." He explained.  

Rowena frowned. "Would it make a difference if they knew?" She considered telling Madame Henrietta at her next session about where her powers lay. She would have to be imaginative with how she told her. She could say that she merely suspected that it was where her powers were going to take her, that she wasn't really sure, that that was silly, really.  

"It would make all of the difference."  

"They are going to find out eventually." Rowena pointed out.  

Mephisto ran a hand through his dark hair absently. "I had planned for more time before that would happen." 

"Eventually, I am going to be handed an Old World phrase and all hell is going to break loose." 

He shot her an incredulous look. 

"Metaphorically speaking."  

"You are impossible." 

She shrugged. "I'm human. You should have known what you were getting into." 

"Yes, I should have known..." He mused softly. He was silent for a moment and in that spans of time it seemed as if he was in a different place completely. He had left her dorm room and was somewhere else entirely. Somewhere completely and utterly sad. She wanted to reach out and touch his hand, offer some form of comfort because his face looked so broken. Then he was back and the dark, brooding, and dangerous demon had returned to her room.   

"You will only have until the end of the school year, you realise that?"  

"Wait," Rowena cried. "Until what?" 

"Until, how did you put it? All hell breaks loose. And you are going to break it loose." He smiled then and Rowena flinched back as he disappeared.  

She was shaking. She couldn't remember when that had started or what had caused it - besides the obvious, of course. Her facade was working, at least. She could sense that he was not entirely sure what to do with a stubborn human who did not always do as he told them. If she could just give him enough to work with so that her friends would be safe, then everything would be fine. That is, until the end of the school year when he expected her to break loose all of the realm of Death.  

She shuddered. The room always felt wrong, weird, after Mephisto was in it. Even though he didn't make her feel sick or nauseous, she could still sense his power and it unsettled her. She realised that simply being at Alwhich had made her more attuned with other people's powers. She could feel the web now, it was still faint, but she could feel it at least. That was a start, and a good one at that. It was so much more than she was ever expecting, but not at all what she wanted. 

"What is your price, then?"

Here, have a demon summoning scene! Because I needed to read this over. I'm at the part of my NaNoWriMo process where my other characters are becoming incredibly bored and bothering me ALL OF THE TIME. Apparently, they don't understand that they've had four years of my attention and they're only being left alone for a month. Alas, they're a needy and mentally unstable pair... So, in an attempt to ignore them both completely I've dived head on into this NaNo story. So, have a little bit more. This is a bit of a pivotal scene in which you get maybe one answer. Because I like doing that. One answer at a time :) But, oh, my girls are bad for dabbling in black magic. *giggles*

Before she knew it, it was eleven o’clock at night and Violet and Catherine were knocking on her door. Georgiana went to open it, scooping up her rock as she did so. The stone had been acting curiously during the course of the day and Georgiana had been trying everything to figure out why it was acting so strangely. Rowena was amused by the fact that Georgiana spent the grand majority of her time talking to a rock, but apparently this project was one she had been working on for quite some time and she wouldn’t be satisfied until the rune stone was working properly.  

Violet swept into the room, she was taller than Rowena and the cloak clasped around her neck swirled against her legs. Her black hair was cropped short at her chin and was usually very collected, but right now it was messy and wild and her grey eyes seemed almost feverish with excitement. Catherine was more demure in her entrance. The shorter girl had her blonde hair tied back severely and was wearing a coat substantially less extravagant as Violet’s.  

“Here, for you both.” Violet handed Rowena and Georgiana cloak’s of their own. “It will be cold out there and we will probably be out for most of the night.”  

“You know how to get there, right?” asked Rowena uneasily.  

“Of course,” Violet smiled. “Relax, this will be fine. Fun, even.”  

Rowena managed a nervous smile as she clasped the cloak around her shoulders. It was long and full and black with a wide hood that put her entire face in shadow when she flipped it up. Violet was smiling infectiously and Rowena began to feel shivers of excitement replace the nervous fears. She wanted answers and was excited that this was the way that they were going to get them.  

“Do you have everything?” Georgiana asked. 

Catherine nodded and shouldered a small leather satchel. “I have it all here.”  

There was no more putting this off, and they needed to begin the ceremony at midnight. The cemetery was relatively close to the school and Violet led them there. They had to be silent as they left the women’s wing of the school and went out into the main courtyard. The air was cold and there were dark clouds in the sky, passing over the nearly full moon as the wind blew.  

All of the sudden, Violet ducked behind a bush, motioning for the other three girls to do the same. They scrambled to do so and the moment they were out of sight Madame Kioshin, the invocation professor, passed by. So, the professors were the ones who kept curfew. That was helpful to know for any… future endeavours that they might have.  

Once she was passed, the girls sprinted for the tree line at the edge of the campus. When they made it there, they collapsed into fits of nervous giggles. The nerves were beginning to mix with the sense of excitement, making for a bad combination. They moved through the trees, following Violet’s confident pace as she led them towards the graveyard.  

It was a small plot of land that popped up in a clearing in the middle of the forest. The graves were old, some of them broken and crumbling. Others looked relatively new, but had black swatches painted over where the names should be. Rowena frowned at the graves and looked questioningly at Violet. She shrugged. Near the middle of the plot sat an ancient mausoleum made of what was once probably pure white marble, but age had left it grey and dull. There were ornate marble angels carved at the top of the mausoleum, their slender arms stretched out towards one another, frozen in the stone.  

“I know half of the plot is on holy ground. The other half is… not.” Catherine looked like she knew more about it, but she refused to say anymore. Violet took them to where the ground was consecrated. 

Catherine handed the satchel to Violet and went to perch on one of the steps of the mausoleum. Georgiana sat down beside her. Rowena, more interested in what Violet was about to do, wandered over to where she was standing, looking contemplatively at a space of ground. She wandered behind one of the graves and found a stick that was sharper on one end, then came back and drew a large circle in the ground. Within the circle she drew a pentagram, the oldest symbol for protection there was. She didn’t leave it at that, however, but added more ornate symbols to the circle. Swirling patterns and runes that held power. She was whispering underneath her breath as she worked. Each time she completed a symbol, it would flash and then go dark.  

“This would have been even more ideal with five people…” She murmured to herself underneath her breath, then shrugged, “No matter.”  

She took a vial out of the satchel and handed it to Rowena. “Holy water,” she explained, “just in case.” She took a few pouches and tossed them at each of the girls. Then took a fifth and carefully sprinkled salt along the line that made up the circle. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with,” she frowned down at the circle, “that will have do suffice.” 

The calm ease that Violet went about drawing the protective summoning circle hinted that she had done it more than once before. Rowena began to wonder if she really was just a mind mage. Wasn’t Georgiana a witch? Couldn’t she have done this also? Rowena glanced at her roommate but didn’t ask. She could ask her later… 

Violet turned her hood up and motion for Catherine and Georgiana to come over to the circle.  

“I looked up the spell last night, so I’ll lead it.” She said. “We’ll need a page out of Rowena’s Arxane and…” she trailed off. 

“My blood as well, right?”  

Violet nodded. She had taken the dagger from Catherine and was toying with it in her hands. Catherine was holding a silver chalice. Rowena drew her Arxane out of her bag and flipped to the page with the first message she had received in blood. She tore the page out, wincing slightly at the idea of damaging her Arxane. She dropped the page into the chalice, then took the dagger from Violet. Without letting herself think further on it, she sliced open her palm and let the drops of crimson fall into the cup. A puff of smoke rose up from the chalice when she did so. She looked over at Violet and nodded. Catherine placed the cup in the middle of the circle, careful to not disturb any of the runes, and moved to stand at the other side of the circle. Rowena pulled her hood up over her head and clenched her fist to try to put pressure on her bleeding hand.  

Violet’s words were whispered at first. She faltered a few times, unsure of the exact pronunciations of the old language. After a few tries, though, she had it figured out and her voice rose proportionally with her confidence. Smoke was pouring steadily out the chalice in the centre of the circle and the runes began flashing in time with Violet’s chanting. The air felt charged, like there was static in the air buzzing between the girls. Suddenly there was a loud crash and a flash bright enough to blind the girls.  

Rowena blinked rapidly, trying to force her eyes to adjust from the flash faster. The chalice had been knocked over and standing in the circle was the same man she had seen in the basement of the school. The air seemed to plunge in temperature. Violet was breathing heavily, as if she had just run a marathon. 

He was tall, as she had noted the last time she had seen him, with well kept dark hair and eyes an incredibly deep shade of blue. He had pale skin and sharp, strong features. He was wearing the same long dark overcoat that she had seen him in last time. Underneath that was a finely tailored suit that looked slightly out of place against the boots on his feet.  

“Well,” he spoke first, his voice low and smooth. “This was not quite the reaction I was expecting.” He smiled and there was an obvious hint of menace in his voice. “Four girls,” he turned slightly to take in Catherine and Georgiana, then turned back to Violet. “You were the one to perform the ceremony, then? Good girl. Now, where is mine.” The way he posed the last question, as a statement, and a sinister one at that, was unsettling.  

Rowena could feel the blood dripping down between her fingers, as hard as she tried to quell it. A drop slipped through and when it fell, he turned his attention onto her.  

“Ah, you’re the one.” He took a step forward, just to the edge of the circle, and leaned down so that his eyes were level with hers. He blew out a breath of cool air that seemed too forceful to be human and knocked her hood back. Rowena had to force herself to remain still. She was beginning to realise that this had been a very bad idea. “Have you no voice?” 

“I do.” Her voice didn’t even shake, though she thought that it should under the circumstances. Georgiana had been right, he wasn’t human, though he looked it. She was not entirely sure what it was they were dealing with, but they were not in a good situation right now. “Who are you and what do you want with me?” 

He held up a hand and straightened back to his full height. “Ah, I would put your questions on hold if I were you. Don’t you know how these things work?” He looked over at Violet, “Surely you told her.” 

“I-I don’t understand.” Violet said, bewildered. 

“You only ask a bound demon a question if you are willing to pay.”  

His words dropped on the girls like a rock. Rowena instantly was aware of the seriousness of the circumstances now. She looked at Georgiana from past him, her eyes were huge with fear.  

Was it worth the knowledge he would bring her? She knew that the answer was no, but for some reason she asked anyway. 

“What is your price, then?”  

He smiled thin lipped. “You.”  

She could hear the girls begin to voice their protests, but she held up a hand to silence them. She felt like she was standing in a black vacuum, it was just her and the demon. She felt like she was trapped in his deep blue eyes. 

“Elaborate on that,” she ordered.  

“Normally, I wouldn’t be taking orders from mortal children. But, you are special, so I’ll humour you.” He was standing dangerously close to the edge of the circle. “I’ll even answer your unspoken questions, as well as your spoken ones. Because, you see, the price has already been paid.” The demon spread his hands. “You received both of my messages, you know my name.” 

“Mephisto.” She said after a moments pause. 

“Yes, Mephisto.” 

“What is it you want from me?”  

“Such vague broad questions,” he said with a sneer. “Give me something a bit more precise.”  

“I can’t think of anything more precise than that.” She snapped. “I want to know why you have me singled out.”  

“It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with your power.” 

Rowena blinked. “I can’t even cast magic.” 

He shot her a look of pure condescension. “So you seem to have convinced yourself.”  

“It is nothing of the sort.” She replied, though now she was feeling decidedly unsure about that fact.  

He smirked at her and took a step back. He waved a hand, “More questions, then?” 

“Your message, what did it mean?” 

“Precisely what I wrote.” 

Rowena let out a frustrated breath. “You said I was bound to you.” 

He nodded slightly in agreement.  

“What does that mean?” 

“It means there is no way for you to escape your fate.” Mephisto smiled sinisterly. “I think we’re done here.” 

“We’re not.”  

“No, you will have time for other questions. On my terms.” His toes were nearly on the ring. He looked down at the circle and then smiled. “Do not ever attempt to summon me again. This was a decent attempt, however, you forgot to account for my kind.” With that, he kicked the circle, breaking it.  

“Rowena!” she heard Violet cry as the world seemed to rip in half. Rowena staggered back, the force from the shattering magic hitting her full on.  

Thick black smoke seemed to be roiling in from off the graves. Mephisto disappeared into the smoke, his dark laugh echoing in the clearing once he was gone. 

Rosewater and Wine

Guess who's doing NaNoWriMo this year! Meeeeeeeee! So, I decided I should post a little bit of it on here. I'm currently ahead at 12,847 words. Which is pretty exciting considering the amount of homework I'm forsaking to do this... :)
So, here's half of the first chapter.

The light from the fire dancers flashed against the pitch of the night. Sparks flying through the air like erratic, drunk fireflies. The flames followed the dancers movements; brushing by their swaying hips and swirling around their moving frames. Always burning bright, yet never harming the dancers. 

Rowena sat in the branches of an ancient oak tree, dangling her stocking feet out over the air. She watched the dancing down below. The snakelike, fluid movements looking dangerous and captivating as the flames swirled around and around and licked their way up into the sky. She could feel the heat against the bottoms of her feet as she kicked them back and forth in time to the haunting rhythmic music. 

The dancers stopped with a final burst of flames into the night. Ash gently settled down against the ground, dusting the dancers in grey. Someone covered in ash appeared underneath Rowena’s feet.

“Isn’t the dancer of blood and fire going to grace us with an appearance?” The ash covered figure called up to her.

She peered down but couldn’t discern who was speaking to her in the darkness. 

“Possibly, if there’s a lull in interest,” she replied, kicking her feet. She grimaced at the title. It was just a fancy way of saying, the girl from the famous family of fire weavers with no magic so she makes do with petty chemicals and dangerous gimmicks. 

The figure held something up and Rowena peered at it in the darkness. She saw the gleam of steel and could make out the shape of a large ring. She sighed, instantly realising who it was she was speaking to.

“Where did you find that? I thought I left it in the caravan.”

“You did leave it in the caravan.” Rose grinned.

“What were you doing in our caravan?” 

“Wondering why you weren’t dancing.”

Rowena scowled and jumped down off the branch. She took the large ring from Rose, careful of it’s razor sharp circular edge.

“I don’t really feel like doing this,” she frowned and gestured towards the crowd, still lingering around even though her families performance had been finished for at least five minutes now. 

Rose absently rubbed one of the spiralling black rams horns that sprouted from her head. The imp was tall, with long black hair and large, intense crimson eyes. Rose shot her a pout and clasped her hands in front of her, pleadingly. “This is the last Moon Gathering that you will be able to attend for months.”

She sighed and absently twirled the ring around on her forearm. The ring was slightly larger than a hula hoop and made of steel, razor sharp on the outside edges. It had a leather handle at the top point so that it could be potentially held with one hand. When Rowena danced, she did it with the ring, lighting the steel on fire with a potion her mother made up for her. The edged blade just made the act more exciting. The potential that she could very well decapitate herself with one wrong move made up for the fact that there was no magic at all being used in her act. 

“I’m not dressed for dancing…” she noted, picking at her long black skirt. She was rather fond of this skirt and didn’t really want to accidentally catch it on fire. Not that that would happen, she was quite good at what she did. She had to be to be able to keep up with the rest of her family and their fire weaving. 

Rose sighed loudly and dramatically. “Fine, be that way. At least come wander aimlessly with me?”

She put the ring aside and nodded with a smile. Anything was better than having to dance.

Rowena de Beaumont was the eldest daughter of the famous de Beaumont fire weavers. They were a family who had called and controlled fire for centuries. Depending on the current state of the common world, her family had held all manner of positions and jobs. Court mages, lighthouse keepers, and when the age of technology came along, they ran all manner of steam powered machines. Unfortunately, things were done with electricity nowadays and magic had fallen and faded out of the common blood’s knowledge. Her family had to resort to common jobs for the majority of the month. But for one sweet weekend of the month, they were able to call to the flames again and dance. The Moon Gathering was the one place where the arcane and the underground could meet and not have to shelter or hide their powers. People like Rose could loosen the tightly kept glamours that kept the commons from seeing them as they truly were. It was the place where people like her family could practice their magic without worry.

Except for Rowena. Rowena was nothing more than a common blood, so she suspected. In fact, she was fairly certain that she was the first de Beaumont to be born common in over three hundred years. So she was told, she suspected she was actually the first but no one wanted to admit that to her. It made her families fame rather bittersweet, because she could barely make a candle blaze brighter. Fire didn’t listen to her and she was constantly burning her fingers, even when she was dancing with her ring. Light ignored her call like she was nothing more than a common blood. Of course, no one outside of her family knew about her practically common status.

Except for Rose, of course. Rowena had grown up with Rose. The fire imp’s family and the de Beaumont’s had been close friends for years. It had started out as a simple transaction between the families. The de Beaumont’s needed materials for their flame based spells and Rose’s family were the very people, or imps, to go to. In return, the de Beaumont’s supplied the imps with sufficient supplies to create and hold their glamours during their day to day activities. 

As the two girls wandered through the gathering, Rowena noticed that the fire imp kept her carefully away from any kind of performing magic that might put her in a darker mood. She also warned her any time she spotted any of her relatives. Moon Gatherings were not the best of times for Rowena to be around her family. She didn’t appreciate the constant reminder of what she was not born with.

Even so, she still had gathering folk coming up to her and ask why she didn’t dance alongside her family. Her families skill was famous amongst the underground and as the eldest daughter shouldn’t she be calling the light and fire? She would just mumble out a vague reply and wait for them to wander off. Her lack of magic had been a carefully guarded secret for as long as she could remember. Her parents constant worry was that it would be realised that she was a common and she would be cast from the gatherings. Commons were allowed to come to the gatherings only once in their lives, and few of them remembered the experience once they left. The fey magic tended to muddle their brains past recognition. Rowena couldn’t stand the idea of being banned from the gatherings altogether. So, she held on to the hope that she was nothing more than a very late bloomer and danced with her chemicals and her ring. Not tonight, though, dancing would have been a very bad idea tonight. 

In a matter of days Rowena would be leaving for school. Normally the idea wouldn’t bother her. However, she was being transferred out of her public high school and into the exclusive Alwhich Academy. Essentially, the school for the gathering and underground folk. It was a safe place for those with magic to be able to learn their talents underneath guidance of others like them. At least… that was the story that her parents were trying to sell to her. Rowena remained unconvinced of that fact and ultimately certain that they were making a last ditch effort to prove that she was not common blood. She was not entirely certain how sending her to this school would prove that point, but after more than one loud and violent argument with her parents, she had eventually relented to being sent away. Secretly, she prayed that going to Alwhich would be the key to unlocking her magic, even if it was the weakest form of fire weaving out there. She would be content if all that she could do was light candles with a touch. Even that would be sufficient for her. Because then she would be allowed to remain in the gatherings and could continue dancing with her chemicals and her ring (of course, she would be able to light the ring without a match or her mother’s help then). 

Rose tugged on her hand and led her to where a small group of people their age were casting extravagant performance magic. Rowena rolled her eyes as they approached. 

“Rose!” A boy called, and in the next moment a bouquet of flowers was conjured out of nothing. Literally nothing. No tricks, no special gimmicks. Performance magic was essentially everything that you could see some common magician do on stage, yet more. It was considered the absolute lowest form of magic, but that didn’t stop the performers from bothering the gathering folk with their petty tricks. 

Rowena didn’t know any of the teenagers in the group. Usually her kind and their kind didn’t intermingle much. She was from high magic, they were from low magic. The two just never got along. It didn’t help that she was from one of the oldest families who still attended the Moon Gatherings. She couldn’t hide from her heritage, as much as she wanted to at times. 

She spent the rest of the evening with Rose and the magicians. She actually enjoyed the lower magic. It was as close to being common as one could get while still possessing capable magic.  

Too soon for her taste, though, dawn was breaking and the gathering folk were beginning to pack up their things and go home to wait for the next gathering. The next gathering she would not be able to attend. With a sigh and a long hug from Rose, Rowena gathered her backpack and ring from where she had left them underneath the tree and wandered off to find her family. 

She found them covered in ash and packing up the caravan.Her youngest sister was the first one to spot her and immediately began going into an in-depth account of all that had happened that Rowena had missed while she had been with Rose. She listened absently as she picked up some discarded costumes and packed them away. It wasn’t until Beatrice began raving about how well Eve danced that Rowena stopped listening and became even more irritated. She didn’t want to hear about Eve and her limitless talent. How much the flames loved Eve. How beautiful Eve looked when she was dancing, with the flames licking against her skin. To say that Rowena was jealous of Eve would not be false. She shook her head to herself and shooed away all her irritated thoughts and tried to act engaged in Beatrice’s account. 

It seemed like Beatrice would never finish when Michael, Rowena’s older brother by three years, came by to sweep up the little girl in his arms and drag her off to clean up the mess she had made with her toys in the caravan while the rest of the family had been dancing. Rowena shot him an appreciative smile as he left, Beatrice squirming and protesting in his arms. 

It wasn’t until the sun had finally risen that everything was cleaned up and packed away and ready to be taken back out for the next gathering. Rowena yawned. All she wanted to do right now was sleep for the next year. What she did not want to do was find her mother. She knew she was due for a chastising for not dancing at all this month. Usually she could be convinced to dance at least once with her chemicals and powders and rings, but not tonight. She knew her mother would not be pleased. Especially if people had been asking after her, which she knew they were. 

“There you are!” 

Rowena sighed and watched as her younger sister came gliding over to where she was standing. Eve had inherited not only the family magic, but the dancers build and grace as well. Rowena admitted to possessing the willowing frame and grace that the dancing required, but she obviously had none of the magic. Without the magic, her dancing looked clunky and uncoordinated in comparison. 

Eve was covered from head to foot with ash, the dust making her blonde hair look a dusky shade of grey in the morning light. She pulled her braid over one shoulder and began unravelling it as she spoke. 

“You didn’t dance.” The statement wasn’t accusatory, just contemplative.

“I wasn’t in the mood,” Rowena sighed, not wanting to discuss this anymore. She wasn’t sure why skipping one night of dancing was becoming such a big deal to everyone. It wasn’t like her dancing was any good compared to her families…

“I wanted to dance with you…” Eve dug her bare foot in the dirt, drawing circles t hat turned into spirals that turned into rune marks. “It was your last gathering for months.”

Instantly all the irritation Rowena had been feeling evaporated, only regret and disappointment taking their place. “Oh, Eve, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t find you. You left with Rose so soon after we danced and I didn’t know where you went.” 

“Oh…” Rowena took a long strip of white cloth and began wrapping her steel ring so that it wouldn’t accidentally decapitate someone during the drive home.  

“Mum was disappointed as well.”

Rowena was about to point out that they could have just called her if they had wanted to get a hold of her, but then she remembered that the Rune magic didn’t allow technology underneath it’s limits. Her cell phone was probably still non functional and would remain so until they dropped the spells. 

“Well, I guess that means we’ll have to dance as soon as I get back!” said Rowena brightly as she stowed her ring in the back of the van. 

Eve nodded with a smile. She helped Rowena finish packing up the van and soon they were on the road. Within five minutes of the spell barrier being lifted, Rowena’s phone began going off like crazy. She silenced it and dropped it into her backpack without even looking at the screen. Her school friends had been promising to keep in touch with her when she left for school, but she knew that that wouldn’t last. As much as she didn’t like to think about that, she knew that  Alwhich had so many wards and rune bindings around the campus that her cell phone coverage would be shoddy at best. Once her few high school friends realised that she could not text them relentlessly, they would eventually give up entirely. 

Beatrice had fallen asleep almost the instant the van had started. Her small mouth hanging open as she snored lightly. Michael was sitting with his seat as far back as it could possibly go so that his feet could rest up on the dash. They had relatively short ride back home to Sheffield, but it was already dawn and none of them had slept and all they wanted right now was some well deserved rest. Especially Rowena, who hadn’t slept at all during the gathering. She had been helping run the stall that her family owned, too busy selling potions and powders to think about sleeping.