Fool's Rook [Closed] - Printable Version

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RE: Fool's Rook [Closed] - saronym - 01-12-2016

Owen tilted his head in a graceful bow of acceptance to her invitation for tea. He wasn’t terribly enthused about tea per se. He wasn’t a tea drinking kind of guy. He was more of a fine ground black coffee kind of guy. The kind of coffee that left stains on white mugs. But the tea was more a pretense for conversation anyway.

“After you.” He gestured for her to lead the way and passed by the saucy guard without so much as a glance. Door stops didn’t warrant attention, anyway.

He smiled to himself when he heard Sairus apprehend the other guard. He certainly appreciated the opportunity to speak alone with Darcias. There were things he wanted to ask her about that weren’t for Sairus’ ears.

Owen quickened his pace to catch up to the robed woman. He took her hand curling her arm through his and pressed her hand to his forearm that he might play the role of gentlemanly escort for any curious onlookers. Nothing out of the ordinary, here, save for perhaps the difference in attire. Her’s so official versus his casual street wear. But you wouldn’t know it from the way he carried himself. He may as well have been in his boxers, it wouldn’t have changed his poised carriage.

“I'll have to take your word on this weather being unseasonable.” He admitted without openly stating he still had no clue what day it was. He still felt like a disoriented time traveler from the past. “It does seem like the kind of weather that makes ghosts want to reveal themselves, don’t you think? My mother would incense the house always saying ‘can’t be too careful with ghosts, those who defy death are rarely up to any good.’”

Owen's rambling had little point other than to issue, perhaps, a veiled threat cloaked in reminiscing about his childhood. He pulled his elbow in so that her arm was brought close against his side, bringing her in for the sharing of something more confidential.

“Between you and me, I never really believed in ghosts, though, death was the ultimate finale. But look at me, now, here for the macabre encore.”

He laughed lightly with an easy smile brushing away even the slightest mention of anything uncanny about his present circumstances. He was acutely aware of how they must look to others, like the perfect image of cordiality, polite conversation, and friendly joking. Which was his intention. He wouldn’t bring up anything serious until in the safety of privacy.

“Oh, don’t listen to me. I’ve become so wistful lately. Must be the weather.” Thinking himself mighty clever he brought his rambling full circle back to the weather again. He winked at her then, mischievously, head cocked, like a ghost up to no good.

---

RE: Fool's Rook [Closed] - megs - 03-09-2016

Darcias kept the surprise off if her face when he appeared at her side, hooking her arm through his as if it were the most natural thing. She tucked her wings close, nestling them against her back so they did not disturb him. They appeared closer than they had ever been; than they ever would be. Even she could appreciate the way he pretended to be above his station, at the very least looking like he belonged at her side.
A thoughtful humming noise sounded in her throat. “I suppose being dead would have that effect.” Her murmured tone made it seem like she was talking mostly to herself. Entertaining musings on what he knew and what he did not. Ten years was a long time to be out of touch with your loved ones, let alone with the entire world. Admittedly, most of what he said afterwards was lost on her and the terrible habit she made of not listening.

“Yes, look at you,” she replied with a sigh, turning her head slightly to do just that. Not quite admiring the look him as a person, but as the result of an experimental magic, though she did seem somewhat marveled. “I can only imagine the sort of magic it took to bring you back. Fascinating.” She halted their steps at the door to her office. It was unlocked with a simple wave of her hand, and she released his arm to push it open and enter, another wave of her hand indicating that he should follow her.

A pot of tea, still warm, and two delicate tea cups were already waiting for them, expectantly. Either indicative of the fact that she had tea at the same time every day, or that she had very attentive servants. The fae rounded her desk, feathered wings flaring out behind her as she began to pour steaming liquid from the pot, and the sweet smell of peaches and something floral wafted around the room. She gestured for him to sit down with a free hand.

“It is Wednesday,” she began to explain, unprovoked but not unkindly. Her voice gentle and sounding as if she had dealt with a man newly resurrected before.

She assumed that those he had interacted with thusfar were more shocked by his being alive, than to assume he would need to be filled in one small details.

Setting the kettle back upon its rest, she pushed one of the cups towards Owen. “It is March. The ninth to be exact.” Darcias sat, resting her elbows on the polished wood of her desk, impeccably clear of any papers or files that would indicate she was in a position of authority. She laced her fingers together, swirling eyes suddenly widening with the occurrence of a thought. “It’s almost Julianna’s birthday,” she said, before retrieving her tea cup and taking a sip. “The year is twenty-sixteen, so it’s been a little more than ten years since you died.”

She set the cup down on its matching ceramic saucer, such a practiced motion that there was no sound to be heard. “But I am sure you have many questions of your own, yes? What is it I can help you with, Owen?” Her smile was mostly teeth, too sweet, like he was another one of her students.

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RE: Fool's Rook [Closed] - saronym - 03-14-2016

Under Darcias’ gaze Owen was again an object of Darkwillow curiosity. What an annoyance. To say he wasn’t interested in the magic that re-animated him would be a lie. He wondered whether she could see residual magic on him, like cat hair on black slacks.What if could she smell it? Smell the magic that made his corpse move with life, like perfume masked cigarette smoke.

Owen blinked in surprise when he watched Darcias unlock her door without touching it. An involuntary shiver rolled down his spine. It was either unseasonably chilly as she had suggested or Owen had tricked himself into thinking he could sense that little bit of magic. He rubbed his arms self-consciously to calm the goose pimples as he followed Darcias into her office.

“I suppose it feels a bit like a Wednesday…” Owen said pensively. The words trailed off as he stood awkwardly staring at the elegant display Darcias made of herself. He was feeling somewhat … enchanted, or disarmed, by her. Maybe it was the whole scene. The tiny teacups, the smell of the air in the office. Something about her hospitality, or her display of intuition in informing him of the simple fact of the date. It was all eroding away the edge to the anger he’d brought with him.

At last, Owen closed the distance, eased obediently into the seat indicated for him, and accepted the teacup. He frowned at the tea suspiciously before finally tasting it. It wasn’t bad, he thought to himself, for likely poisoned with evil Darkwillow magic. He was really more bothered by the reminder of his wife’s birthday than by his paranoia.

“There’s no birthday present that could top having her husband back, don’t you agree?” Owen didn’t give Darcias much of a choice to disagree, flashing a brief smile as if the gift of his presence was undeniable. What a gift, indeed. “Well that is, if she could remember she has a husband.” He added pointedly.

Owen sighed when Darcias broached the subject of why he was there. He hated the idea of coming to beg for help from a sister-in-law he barely knew. When and how had he gone from intending to issue demands and ultimatums to begging? He could at least appreciate that Darcias was direct and to the point.

“Look,” Owen abandoned the teacup with little care clinking it noisily against the desk without thinking to place it back on the matching saucer. “I don’t give a damn whether you or Kama or Sairus despise me. But I trust that you can agree that Julianna deserves the opportunity to make her own choices about what to do with her prodigal husband. That having been said … I’d appreciate your ... cooperation in remedying whatever you’ve done to her mind.”

Owen paused a few times to ensure he chose the right words. He was satisfied with his diplomacy but almost regretted not adding a few fuck words.

---

RE: Fool's Rook [Closed] - megs - 07-25-2016

“Wednesdays do have a special feel about them,” she mused, as if in agreement. A small smile curled the corners of her mouth before disappearing. “It is said the day was named after Odin, the Allfather of Norse mythology. Perhaps that’s what is resonating with you.” Darcias giggled and the sound was out of place, she sat rigid in her chair with a practiced ease. She looked like royalty, her eyes glinted as they settled on his face. Owen looked closer to her sibling than Julianna did. Tall blondes with blue eyes and sculpted features. The giant feathered wings aside, Darcias’ eyes were like water. Owen’s were ice.

“Most women prefer jewelry over ghosts from their past.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Actually, I hear she is quite fond of coffee now. Just one of the… weird things about her since the spell.”

She spoke of the magic that erased Julianna’s memories and the resulting changes and occurrences as if there were a meaningless outcome. The sorceress was un-phased. It posed the question of had she done something like this before? Or had she done something worse?

“Look, Owen.” She leaned forward, breaking that perfect posture for the first time, lacing her hands together upon the polished wood of the desk. “It’s not about liking you or disliking you,” she explained, each word carefully chosen and perfectly articulated, spoken softly. “I’m sure you’re a fine person. You’re just…not the person for our sister.” Another show of perfectly straight, white teeth. Her own show of diplomacy.

“That having been said,” she continued, sitting upright once more and reaching for her cup. The tea within had gone cold already, but she ignored it as she sipped delicately. Clearing her throat, the cup hovered in front of her mouth. “What’s done is done,” she said, voice cracking. She was no longer looking at him. There was a thick pause between them. Darcias didn’t seem notice. She rearranged a paperweight on her desk.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?”

---

RE: Fool's Rook [Closed] - saronym - 08-04-2016

Owen shrugged deferentially in response Wednesday feeling like Odin-ness. He never had much interest in myths or legends even ones relevant to his own heritage.

“Jules is not most women.” Owen countered weakly. He wondered at the source of Darcias’ information about Julianna’s new found liking for coffee. Had she sat in this very chair recently sharing coffee with her sister? He figured not. He tried to imagine Julianna drinking an over-sized mug of medium roast with a little cream and sugar. Nothing too bitter. Something with a sweetness to it. Maybe hazelnut? His fund of information about his own wife was proving inadequate. Had she really changed that much?

He left his thoughts and listened to the explanations he came to receive. His body stiffened as Darcias flippantly spoke of Julianna’s changed state as if she were some bored professor explaining a rudimentary chemical reaction. He listened much the same way a child being lectured by a parent might. His hands placed flat on the arms of the chair and fingers curled tightly around the wood. He maintained a resentful silence by a hard jaw clamped shut with willpower. It was a look he’d really mastered as an unruly child requiring frequent disciplining.

An involuntary scoff escaped from his throat when informed that he was ‘not the person’ for Julianna.

“Oh, spare me!” Owen snapped dramatically. “If your reservations about me were so grave where were you to defend helpless Julianna all those years? Look me in the eye and tell me she was dancing in celebration on my grave and I’ll leave right now. I suspect you didn’t even attend my funeral though. Probably couldn’t be bothered to save face with your bereaved sister and light a candle for me. No, instead you go fucking up her mind and revising our history. How convenient. Your moral high ground is a house of cards Darcias.”

He pushed himself up from the chair just enough to snatch the paperweight she had been toying with. The disrupted papers shuffled here and there across the wood. He tested the weight in the hand that was bruised from striking Kama. “‘What’s done is done’ she says.” Owen mocked Darcias cruelly. “You embarrass yourself. Take it from an expert, telling a convincing lie takes a certain je ne sais quoi in the delivery. And you, just don’t have it.”

Owen was leaning forward in his chair nearly on the edge, the paperweight on his palm like a kind of visual warning. “Let’s try this again shall we?”

“Tell me how to fix my fucking wife.” He brought the paperweight down onto the desk in front of him. It just forceful enough to scar the desk’s fine finish. The tea set quivered at the impact, tinkling its protests delicately.

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RE: Fool's Rook [Closed] - megs - 08-10-2016

Darcias hummed. A half-roll of her eyes followed to accentuate her disagreement. Her hands were laced together in her lap, but white knuckles revealed the strain of effort to resist arranging more things upon her desk. A nervous habit, but nervous habits were not regal.

"Your idealizations that Julianna is somehow special are what's making this so difficult for you." Her tone remained so light and pleasant that the sound of it was more insulting than her words. Darcias could praise her sister and damn her all in the same breath, masking her true feelings. If there was any sort of organic familial bond between the two of them it was wildly difficult to find.

With a bird-like shrug of her shoulders, feathers ruffled as she briefly turned her face away from him. "You can only do so much for someone who doesn't want to be helped," she explained, ignoring the storm that was brewing inside her company. She inhaled, as if steeling herself for something as she turned her gaze to Owen. Looking him in the eyes as he demanded.

"I was at your funeral," she admitted. "It rained, but it was a lovely service otherwise. Julianna cried the entire time, though she promised everyone she was okay," she cocked her head, but her eyes never left his, cold and near unblinking she stared him down. "But we both know that Julianna was never a good liar."

Julianna. The headmaster seemed to use the name deliberately. They both knew of the near privilege it was to call the woman in question by her birth name.

"First, Cain left. Off to college, and once again, she promised everyone she was fine. Then, it was Anita, running away and leaving her alone. Then, the Covenant came. They took everything and ruined your home while she watched." Darcias paused, with a small sigh, finally breaking her unfaltering stare. "We both know Julianna does not do well on her own," she explained, softly. "When she attempted to kill herself, is when Kama and I decided to step in."

Darcias stood, a tower of gauzy blue robes and blonde curls. She looked down at Owen and the small downward curl of her mouth was enough to convey her displeasure. She leaned forward, mimicking his attempt at a threat, wings flaring out behind her as she placed a hand over his; the one still resting upon the weighted bauble. Magic coursed from her hand into his, a pulse of cold that was uncomfortable but not painful. The paperweight beneath their palms was slowly incased in crystalline ice while his hand remained unmarred.

"I have no reason to lie to you Owen," her tone was low, teetering on the edge of impatience. The eye in his hurricane. "All of this means nothing to me. You mean nothing to me."

She kept her hand upon his as the ice began to crack the surface of the glass paperweight. Owen would feel the biting temperature by now. With the other, she pulled open a drawer and produced a small, unmarked box from within it.

Finally, she released his hand, but only to grab him by the wrist and turn his palm upwards. From the box, she dumped three rings into his open hand. An engagement ring and two wedding bands. "I cannot change what I have done," she repeated, a subtle emphasis revealing what she wouldn’t admit before.

A glimmer of possibility if he choose to recognize it.

Straightening, she crossed her arms. "The best I can do is remove your memories of her as well. Honestly, they don't seem to be doing you any favors."

---

RE: Fool's Rook [Closed] - saronym - 08-22-2016

Owen briefly pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes and shook his head in frustration . “It stands to reason as Julianna’s husband I might have a better opinion of her than, say, her bitter sister.” He delivered this defense with only enough emotion to convey his exasperation with the discussion.

When Darcias began detailing his funeral and the Hart family fallout, Owen’s brow arched in surprise. He didn’t want to hear much more and waved his hand at her dismissively, slicing at the air to cut her off.

“You don’t - I wasn’t asking for the play by play -” He tried to interrupt the narrative by speaking over her. It was a kind of verbal cover fire, so to speak, to prevent her from landing any devastating blows. His attempts to silence her went ignored and so, Owen was left feeling somewhat like a prisoner forced to endure a sadistic captor who enjoyed prodding at him to find the most tender points to exploit.

When Darcias rose to stand over him, his eyes traced the impressive flare of her wings. He was distracted enough by the display that he missed her reaching for him. Owen’s eyes flicked down upon the contact and he stared uncomprehendingly at her small, pale hand laying over his as she started to afflict him with a spell. He wouldn’t admit that the growing coldness of the magic flowing through his hand made him nervous. Grey eyes framed by a worried frown darted between her face and their hands.

He choked the worry down betting, or hoping, that Darcias wouldn’t permanently maim him or anything. “The pretty little bird has some peck.” He said grinning at her perversely with an air of appreciation.

Owen rose from the chair even as his hand remained trapped under hers. The tall blond leaned over the desk towards Darcias as if he were leaning into the pain. It was a desperate show of bravado, a dare even, as the growing coldness of his hand paradoxically began to feel like burning. Display aside, Owen was relieved when the spell ended and couldn’t resist the reflexive urge to jerk his hand away when she released him. The appendage didn’t get far as Darcias apprehended his wrist and dropped gold rings into his palm. The contact from the cool metal bands stung his hand still searing from the spell.

He stared at the rings in disbelief. A moment passed before he recognized what they were. “And full of surprises.” Picking up the engagement band between index and thumb, Owen twisted the ring back and forth watching the diamonds sparkle as he listened to Darcias offer to remove his memories.

Owen lifted the ring to peer at his sister-in-law through the hole like a weary sea captain spying land. “You’re right. They aren't.” He admitted with a tinge of sadness to his voice. If Owen had already been burdened by his memories the rings had only dredged up more. He felt emotionally wrung out and his face didn't hide it. "If things don't go well. If she wants to fuck me up extra bad. I just might pay you a visit.” He shrugged as if he were giving up in an inconsequential argument over whether to order pizza or Chinese.

He dropped the ring back into his palm with the others and closed them in a tight fist.

“So why don't you tell me who - or how I - can clean up your mess, then?”

---

RE: Fool's Rook [Closed] - megs - 09-04-2016

One of Darcias' carefully crafted, white-gold brows disappeared behind her carefully crafted bangs. "Bitter?" she repeated, and sounded confused. "Why would I be bitter?" Even though she'd heard his exasperation, and pegged his choice of words as a means to get his way, she pushed the subject. Genuinely curious as to where he'd gotten such a specific notion of her character. Something Julianna had said? Or an opinion he had crafted on his own. Though, their mutual desire for him to remain in her office was waning, her question still hung between them.

The Fae continued over the wave of his hand, the vocalizations of his interruptions. Only resigning to talk just loud enough to be heard over him. Her intent was not malicious, despite the way each chosen word had the potential to bore into him like a hot brand. He did not get to come into her office, make demands of her and expect to leave unscathed.

She was not entirely the witch he seemed to think she was. She dropped her arms as she watched him examine the pristine bands and give half-hearted consideration to her offer. He shrugged and she sighed, shaking her head slightly as she walked around the mahogany desk between them. Despite the negative feelings she harbored for Owen, Darcias was almost sympathetic to his need to find his wife again. Though, it may not have been Elliot's intention, Owen had been given a second chance, and perhaps he would use it for the better. Most of the Darkwillow's had loved and lost, she shouldn't deny her sister a chance to break what felt like a curse.

Darcias stood straighter when it was implied that the mess was hers, thought she kept the condescension off her features. "Elliot is the only one I know who can help you," she admitted, somewhat unwillingly. The name was familiar enough, the very warlock that had brought Owen back to the world of the living. "I don’t know where to find him, but if he knows you're looking for him he will find you." She paused, unsure of whether she should really be sending Owen on a glorified on the exact path that their oldest brother wanted him on. "Elliot is dangerous. If you find him, be careful."

The door swung open, and Sairus strolled inside, unannounced and uninvited. Though, it was unlikely anyone could have stopped him, even if they wanted too. He looked between Owen and Darcias, could sense a tension. The guard knew better than to comment on it. Whatever had happened seemed to be resolved for now. When he approached the desk, and Owen's side, he did at least have the decency to bow to the princess.

"We should go," he said to Owen. "I've found someone who might be able to give us some information on Julianna's whereabouts." It seemed, that wherever he had taken off too with Teagan, hadn't been a total waste of time.

---

RE: Fool's Rook [Closed] - saronym - 09-07-2016


Owen scratched the back of his neck to buy him a second to reconsider why he’d assumed Darcias was ‘bitter.’ He hadn’t really expected her to push back on that designation. “I have a good notion that there’s some bad blood between you two. Would it surprise you to know, Julianna never once sighed longingly for her absent sister’s company at the holidays? And never, to my knowledge, sought your advice or comfort when we had our spats.”

Though Darcias straightened her posture, Owen was still quite a bit taller than the diminutive woman. He took the opportunity to glare down at her in cold disapproval when she revealed that Elliot, of all people, would be the person to consult on righting Julianna’s mind. However, he didn’t have the chance to respond before Sairus made his entry. He glanced at the other man, the disapproving look still on his face. His eyes flicked over Sai as the taller man made a little bow to Darcias which only deepened Owen’s displeasure.

With no more acknowledgement to Sai, he redirected his attention back to Darcias. He changed his entire demeanor, putting on a show for the new company in the room. “You’ve been quite helpful. Truly, indispensable.” He said with syrupy condescension. He then raised his index finger as if to make another point, “Though, if I may, a little advice for future endeavors, you probably shouldn’t go making messes that only dangerous necromancers with unknown intentions can clean up for you. Just a thought.”

After giving these instructions, he opened his palm and took his wedding band from among the group and wiggled it over the knuckles of his left ring finger. A pointed display for all the parties in the room. As if to make one last point: she’s mine and these rings are the proof.

He then placed the hand on Darcias' shoulder giving her a reassuring squeeze before kissing her cheeks as he had done in greeting. “I’ll take care of all of this for you, sister. You’ll be busy managing your tea set and getting the desk refinished.”

Whether his commentary embarrassed her was no matter to Owen. In fact, it was the point. He turned then and nodded to Sai, all the while jingling Julianna’s rings around in his hand.

“Shall we, then?”

---

RE: Fool's Rook [Closed] - megs - 09-08-2016

The Fae was all smiles. Wings twitched and feathers ruffled in a brief show of annoyance. Both at his tone and the way he attempted to stare down at her when there were scare few inches between their respective heights. He thought he could out-ice her; this steely Nordic prince with storm grey eyes. He was wrong, but she let him have the last word regardless, forcing the apologetic way her own eyes cast towards the floor.

"If only my day were truly so easy," she replied, her smile was gone, but she turned either cheek to the farewell. If nothing else, her brief exchange with the her sister's husband revealed that he always had something to say, and Darcias figured it was better to let him say it. Even though his words didn't match the hand on her shoulder, the contact was more comforting than she expected.

"I wish you the best of luck," she said, gaze sliding between to the two men. They would need it, even if they thought they didn't. Owen's determination and Sai's turn towards recklessness spelled bad combination. She kept any additional comments to herself; same as she had done for a majority of the visit. Cocking her head she watched them leave. With a wave of her hand, she locked the door when Sairus closed it behind him.

An exaggerated and slow clap began to sound off behind her and she would be ashamed to admit that she jumped. Swallowing, she turned to find Elliot sitting in her chair, probably having crawled out of some shadow in the corners of the office. "You did very well," he praised, as if there was anything complimentary about her recent bout of deception.

"I did what you asked," she pointed out, gaze dropping to the book atop her desk that had not been there before. A heavy looking tome, and she couldn't decide if the binding looked more like leather or like skin. Where had he gotten it?

"I trust you'll keep your end of the bargain?"

With a wolfish grin, Elliot pushed himself out of the chair, crossing the distance between them to place both hands on either of her shoulders. She wanted to shrug him off; the threatening grip was nothing like Owen's. Pulling her closer he pressed a kiss to her forehead, and managed to make the gesture seem mocking. "Of course," he said, lips still pressed to her head.

She didn't believe him.

~~

"Shall we, then?"

Sai nodded and the two men exited the room. Watching the two blondes interact, even for a brief moment had been a bit unsettling for the lynx. Stoic and cold, saying one thing and meaning another. Two conversations at once. Sairus was used to being - and dealing - with business that was a touch more transparent.

"I've been keeping contact with Aphrodite," the bodyguard explained in gravel tones as he pushed his fall of hair away from his eyes. "When Julianna goes missing like this, Aphrodite is usually the only one who hears from her." They walked back to the car quickly, needing to leave the Isles and get to their next destination, almost a two day drive.

"We'll be meeting Aphrodite in Valesport, she's taking care of some wereleopard business there. Said she'd heard from your wife and that she might be in that area. 'Dite is trying to keep her attention, but if she catches on she'll run."

---

RE: Fool's Rook [Closed] - saronym - 09-10-2016


After the kisses were exchanged, Owen turned away from Darcias and didn’t look back even when she wished them luck or waved goodbye. He was thoroughly vexed with the Darkwillows. All of them, and this was increasingly including his missing wife. Maybe especially her. Where did she get off running around and hiding from everyone? His life would be much easier if she would be good and stay put like she was told. If he weren’t desperate to see her he might have found it amusing, even endearing, that she managed to slip through the fingers of her siblings and guardsman.

Owen paused in the hall allowing Sai to reach him and then he matched the other man’s gait. “Valesport then.” Owen replied curtly all the while constructing mental maps of the most efficient routes to get to the city, “It makes sense. She and ‘Dite were always close.”

It seemed the talkative man had spent all his energy in the past couple of verbal battles and needed to regain his strength.

Owen missed a step his eyes scanned the room in confusion. He was caught of guard when Sairus actually referenced Julianna as Owen's ‘wife.’ A bit unexpected. A slip of the tongue maybe, but not a bad one. Or maybe he was being agreeable again. When had he become useful and almost likable? When had they ever had a shared goal? Very recently. And never.Owen quickly regained himself and matched strides with the taller man.

“I can’t say I blame her. I’d get the fuck out of town too if I knew you were looking for me.” This statement didn’t come across with any bite but was actually an amiable quip. Owen was being agreeable back to Sai, even playful. Weird.

Once outside Owen unlocked the ‘Vette and swung into the driver’s seat. He put the keys in the ignition but didn’t start the car. Instead he rummaged around in the console and glove compartment until his fingers grasped what they were looking for. A titanium bead necklace from which an older set of his military ID tags hung. They were printed with scant vital info.


Owen threaded Julianna’s rings onto the necklace and fastened it around his neck. He tucked it all away from sight in his shirt feeling cool metal against his sternum. When his passenger was settled Owen started the car and followed the cobbled path away from the academy. Once off campus grounds, he drove through the city in the general direction of the interstate.

Owen was quiet for most of the ride through the city. He replayed his encounter with Darcias in his mind thinking of all the ways the conversation could have gone. He couldn’t help but feel unsatisfied.

---