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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Welcome to Redwaters - 4. Chapter 4

Fleur's eyes slowly opened, but instead of waking up in Hadrian's car-the last place she was conscious in- she found herself inside the manor, bathed in the daylight filtering through the windows.

"Ouray? Hadrian? Zain? Is anyone here?" she called in the library, hoping for a response, but only silence greeted her.

About to leave the room to search for her friends, Fleur was blindsided by a surprising vision: a younger version of herself, barely fourteen years old, appeared before her, entering the library. A mix of surprise and nostalgia washed over Fleur as she realized she was reliving once again a memory or a dream inside her subconscious.

Her younger self seemed completely unaware of her presence. Fleur smiled as she saw her hairstyle from that time, especially her bangs on thick hair. With hindsight, she judged that particular hair choice dubiously, relieved to have long since left behind that challenging period of her adolescence.

Fleur watched her younger self place a book on one of the library shelves, before getting ready to leave when Ouray suddenly entered the room. The Native American’s appearance also appeared quite different from today, sporting shorter and darker hair.

"Thanks again, Ouray… for everything," the teenager said, smiling, expressing her gratitude to the Shaman.

"Same time next Thursday?" he asked.

The young Fleur nodded, then picked up her backpack from a chair and left the room.

Fleur recalled that period of her life with startling precision. She had just discovered her witch abilities, and they were still difficult to harness. Her nights were filled with disturbing nightmares, and her emotions would sometimes get the best of her, causing disasters in her everyday life. Back then, no one was helping her navigate these still untamed powers.

Her grandmother, Darcey, was deeply affected by the loss of her daughter Carolina. She hoped Fleur would keep away as much as possible from the supernatural world, continually dissuading her from using her magic and powers. Darcey even went as far as threatening to send her to live with her human father, whose visits had ceased since her mother's death, and for whom Darcey never tried to hide her contempt. For Fleur, leaving Redwaters was out of the question. It was the only place where she still felt connected to her late mother. However, she vehemently refused to follow her grandmother's absurd rules. She had managed to get her hands on Darcey's grimoires and secretly practiced spells, often putting herself in danger.

A few days after her fourteenth birthday, a nightmare similar to the one that had led her to the tragic discovery of Carolina's lifeless body a few years earlier woke Fleur from her sleep, filling her stomach with a familiar dread. However, this time, the girl being pursued in her dream inside the woods adjacent to their house didn't seem to be more than ten years old, and Fleur recognized her immediately. It was Alexandra, a little girl whose disappearance had been widely reported for several days.

Blinded by the prospect of finally tracking down her mother's murderer, Fleur was convinced she had perfect control over her powers. She had decided to take matters into her own hands in the middle of the night, believing she had finally found a lead on the culprit, the one who had taken Carolina away from her. After all, her two nightmares had taken place in matching locations, she thought candidly. But her confidence quickly dissipated when she found herself alone in the woods, armed only with her flashlight, right where her mother had met her demise. That time, Fleur was confronted by an utterly sinister character, a child killer passing through the region who had kidnapped Alexandra. The horrifying man, with a gaunt face and the appearance of a hobo, wasted no time in attacking Fleur, a pocketknife in hand. To make matters worse, her witch powers seemed mysteriously ineffective that night, a phenomenon she still didn't understand to this day.

It was that night when she first met Hadrian, as he saved her just in time by incapacitating the murderer. He anonymously called the police, allowing them to rescue the terrified and captive Alexandra, leading to the arrest of the repeat offender. When the authorities arrived,a still shaken Hadrian, quickly brought Fleur to the manor to avoid being spotted at the scene. He then explained to Fleur that he had been protecting the witches in her family for generations, following a promise made to one of her ancestors, and that was how he had found her that night, watching over her. He also told her that the individual the police had just apprehended was merely a transient common criminal, whose modus operandi differed too much from that of her mother's murderer to raise any suspicion of his involvement in Carolina's case.

It was also that night Ouray introduced himself, offering to teach her how to control her powers, just as he had done for her mother before her.

Fleur remembered the intense relief she had felt at that moment. Even though she hadn't been able to avenge her mother as she had hoped, she had finally found people she could confide in freely about her powers, her fears, and the supernatural world that both fascinated and terrified her. She was no longer alone in the world for the first time.

Fleur wondered why her mind had led her to relive that specific moment in the library. Her younger self having already left the manor, leaving Ouray, who was sitting in a chair, flipping through a book, oblivious to her presence. She couldn't recall these moments since the Fleur who had experienced this memory was already gone. A sudden realization washed over the witch: this time, she wasn't in her own subconscious, but in the Shaman's.

The creak of the door echoed through the corridor. "Fleur?" Ouray called, heading towards the hallway, convinced that the young witch might have returned due to a forgotten item. However, he came face to face with Darcey, her icy gaze fixed on him.

Fleur's grandmother had a less severe hairstyle than usual, her beautiful wavy red hair cascading gently over her shoulders, in perfect harmony with her impeccably tailored midnight-blue coat.

"I believe it's time we had a little talk," she announced, in a clearly displeased tone.

Fleur was stunned. What could her grandmother want? Was it the day she had found out about Ouray and Hadrian looking out for her?

"Darcey... always a pleasure to see you," replied Ouray, offering a smile, though his anxiety was palpable.

"Oh, spare me yet another empty exchange of pleasantries, would you? We deserve better than that, don't we?" retorted Darcey in a biting tone.

A tense silence settled in, and then Darcey continued, "Since when has this been going on with Fleur?"

"Since Hadrian rescued her in the woods where her mother met her end. Fleur was utterly defenseless, facing a murderer," Ouray answered with a grave voice.

"It's impossible... I casted a protection spell on her. If she were in danger, I would have been alerted," protested Darcey with unshakable confidence.

Fleur couldn't help but smile, noticing the parallel between her grandmother's words and her recent actions. She had just given her fiancé an enchanted bracelet with the secret intent of being alerted if he were in danger; apparently, it ran in the family.

"Yet, that's precisely what happened," assured Ouray, his voice unflinching.

"I don't understand," said Darcey, bewildered.

"It was obvious she would eventually expose herself to danger, that she would seek to deepen her understanding of her powers. You couldn't dissuade her indefinitely," reasoned Ouray.

"Do you think that gives you and Hadrian the right to do this behind my back, to play mentors with her?" retorted Darcey.

"We're doing it to her benefit, to help her master her powers, teach her to defend herself."

"You did the same for her mother before her, yet it didn't save her," Darcey replied with a chilling coldness.

Ouray gave her a sad look, wounded by those words. Carolina's death filled him with immense sadness, and the guilt of not being able to help her haunted him relentlessly.

"They are so alike," Darcey said, her face suddenly overwhelmed by a multitude of emotions. She took a cigarette from her plum-colored ostrich leather pouch. Ouray reached for the lighter in the back pocket of his jeans and lit it for her. Darcey took a deep drag of her cigarette before continuing.

"At Fleur's age, Carolina seized every opportunity when I had my back turned to join her group of rebellious witches..."

"The Abundance Witches," Ouray added, remembering.

"Abundance of nonsense... misguided little amateurs playing with forces far more powerful than they were," Darcey added, pulling insistently on her cigarette.

Fleur was captivated by their conversation, completely stunned by this surreal experience. No one had ever told her about this group of witches her mother was supposedly a part of.

"Every supernatural being in the bloom of their powers yearns to find a community, some guidance. That was true for Carolina, for Fleur, just as it was for you too... You can see that trying to deprive them of it only made things worse..."

"Neither Hadrian, nor you, nor any bunch of pretender witches are what Fleur needs today!"

"That's true. She needs her grandmother," he replied calmly, a hint of tenderness in his words.

Darcey shot him an angry look, then took a long drag of nicotine, exhaling a cloud of smoke that dissipated in front of Ouray's face. She responded with a voice laden with emotions

"It's too painful for me. Seeing her more and more resembling her mother every day, making the same mistakes as her..."

Fleur watched their conversation closely, torn between sadness and relief. Finally, she understood why her relationship with her grandmother was so distant. Darcey clearly saw her lost daughter in her, and each similarity between them reinforced her fear of reliving the tragedy of Carolina's loss, as if it were a curse destined to repeat itself. But that didn't change the injustice of this tragic circumstance that not only took away her mother, but also of the presence of her grandmother.

"I love that little one so much, so smart, so brave, but I can't teach her magic. I'm unable to do it, not after Carolina," confessed Darcey, visibly moved.

Ouray gently placed his hand on Darcey's, seeking to comfort her, and said :

"She's in good hands with us..."

"I know," Darcey finally admitted, still deeply moved.

As Ouray's eyes locked onto hers, their hands intertwined in a moment filled with tenderness that made Fleur uncomfortable, unable to deny the extraordinary tension between them, Darcey suddenly snapped back to reality and ended the exchange :

"I have to go; I have a flight to London. The Order has entrusted me with a new mission." She delicately withdrew her hand from Ouray's.

Darcey gave him one final strained smile before turning and walking down the corridor towards the front door, without looking back.

"Darcey..." Ouray managed to whisper, hoping to hold her for a few more moments, to prolong the conversation... But all he received in response was the muffled sound of the door closing behind her departure, a sound that resonated within both Ouray and Fleur, abruptly bringing them back to reality.

Hadrian had positioned Ouray and Fleur at opposite ends of an imposing burgundy velvet couch in the manor's living room. Fleur jumped violently as if struck by an electric shock, falling back onto her feet, while Ouray slowly got up, still dazed from the journey.

"My grandmother?! You have a thing for my grandmother?!" Fleur exclaimed, deeply upset by this revelation.

"Had a thing..." Ouray corrected gently, regaining his composure.

"Well, bravo! That changes everything! And my mother was part of some rebellious witch group?!" she yelled at him, clearly very emotional.

"Calm down a bit, I'll explain everything..."

Hadrian and Zain bursted into the room, alerted by Fleur's shouts. Zain held a large bowl brimming with sweet popcorn that Hadrian had microwaved a few moments earlier. The boy was discovering the gustatory pleasure of popcorn with a mix of surprise and delight, his face bearing a satisfied smile, as a promise of delicious discoveries to come.

"Hadrian? Were you aware of this?!" Fleur asked the immortal, with an inquisitive tone.

"Aware of what?"

"Ouray and Darcey, the incredible love affair?" Fleur retorted, still intrigued.

"Oh..." Hadrian let slip, feeling uneasy about revealing further information about this delicate matter.

"And what about my mother supposedly being part of a rebellious witch group?!"

"Rebellious witches?!" Hadrian repeated in a mocking tone before correcting himself, "It was just a group of slightly eccentric and irresponsible girls who wanted to annoy their parents by casting spells they had no control over, on a lame backdrop of rock music..."

"But all that's in my mother's past, isn't it? Maybe these girls know more about what happened to her?!" Fleur exclaimed with simmering intensity, revealing the extent of her turmoil in the face of these revelations that shook her certainties. What could her closest friends still be hiding from her?

"We've met with them on several occasions to question them about it, but they don't know anything," Ouray informed her with a voice laden with embarrassment, seeking to allay Fleur's doubts.

"Since we're sharing confidences, I also have something to tell you about your mother..." Hadrian announced solemnly, his gaze revealing the burden of secrets he carried.

"What now? Ouray was dating my grandmother, and you were dating my mom? Are you about to confess that you're my real father, Hadrian?" Fleur retorted, a touch of irony in her voice.

Zain, who was closely following the exchange, with his mouth full of popcorn, nearly choked upon hearing this remark. He casted a quick glance at Hadrian, alarmed by the turn of events.

"No. But it's quite serious. Garth informed me that a group of armed humans is in town, hunting supernatural beings," revealed Hadrian, his voice heavy with gravity.

"I've witnessed their atrocities myself, these savages..." Ouray added, rage burning in his eyes as he mentioned the slaughtered wolves.

"That's really awful... but what does that have to do with my mother?" Fleur asked, desperately trying to understand where Hadrian was going with this, just like Zain, who was struggling to piece together the information without having the full context.

"Garth discovered that there's an area in Redwaters, near the woods where Carolina was found, where the ground blocks all forms of magic," Hadrian explained.

"That's impossible!" Ouray exclaimed, unable to fathom how such a thing could happen.

Fleur, meanwhile, remained bewildered by Hadrian's words, desperately trying to make sense of it all..

"Garth believes this anomaly, which nullifies magic in the area, allowed this armed group to attack Carolina without her being able to defend herself..." Hadrian continued, his words heavy with significance.

"I think he's right," Fleur finally stated with a somber voice, her face expressing deep sadness before continuing, "It would explain why my powers didn't work the night I went back to the woods thinking I could stop her murderer, the very night I met you..."

"As I've said before, it's impossible. Only a descendant witch has the power to banish magic from consecrated ground" Ouray reminded them, convinced that there must be a mistake.

"A descendant witch... If Darcey isn't aware, and if Fleur had nothing to do with it, it means that..." Hadrian began to realize, but Fleur interrupted his thoughts.

"That my mother would have created this magic-free zone just a few meters from our home?" she asked with a voice full of confusion. "But why?"

"We must stop this group before they cause any more havoc first. We will discover the hows and whys later," Ouray declared, trying to provide some perspective on the situation.

"Since when have you known that humans might be responsible for my mother's murder?" the young woman asked her friends, filled with bitterness.

"Ouray shared his doubts with me last night; I met with Garth earlier today..."

"I've suspected it for some time now," Ouray reluctantly admitted.

Fleur took a deep breath to try and calm herself. She was tormented by the unexpected revelations and the weight of the enchantment she was only just emerging from. How could her friends have hidden all these things from her?

"And over the past few years, how many other pieces of information have you thought better to keep from me?"

"Fleur, it's not like that at all! We needed to deal with the full moon issue tonight first..." Hadrian tried to explain gently.

"And we wanted to prevent you from taking reckless risks in searching for answers while we had no certainty about the case, nothing more," added Ouray.

"What about you and my grandmother? Or my mother's past?" the young witch insisted, unwilling to let go.

"Fleur, we acted only in your best interest, you have to believe us," Ouray told her with a kind voice.

"I don't think lying to me and treating me like a child is in my best interest," Fleur said with a trembling voice, before continuing, "I trusted you; I thought we were a team. But you still see me as an inexperienced child today, not as a partner, an equal. If you're still capable of treating me this way after everything we've been through together, then I really don't belong here."

"Fleur, this is absurd; please calm down a bit," Hadrian attempted to reason, bewildered.

"I will find the answers to my questions, but on my own," Fleur declared, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"A piece of advice: don't trust them; it'll save you many disappointments," she told Zain before hastily leaving the room, clearly disoriented.

"FLEUR!" Hadrian yelled in her direction, trying to stop her, but she continued walking without turning back.

"I think it's best to let her have some space," Zain calmly advised the two men who were overwhelmed by the turn of events. The young boy could sense Fleur's distress and understood her need to be alone to gain some clarity.

"The silver lining here is that I'm a bit relieved to see that I'm not the only one you're keeping things from..." he continued to lighten the mood, taking one last bite of popcorn before offering the bowl to the two men.

Ouray declined with a mechanic hand gesture, looking dejected from the argument with the young sorceress. Hadrian shot Zain an annoyed look following his comment before grabbing the bowl and taking a bite.

"She takes everything the wrong way. My history with Darcey is very complicated and goes back a long way," Ouray explained, with a thoughtful expression.

"And the Abundance Witches are unpredictable. Many of them turn to dark magic because they play with occult forces too unstable for their level of skill. They have no respect for the principles governing magic, no respect for its codes," Hadrian added to justify his choice not to share the information with his friend.

"But if I understood what you were saying, Fleur's mother was part of that group, does that mean she was..." Zain began to assemble all the pieces of the mystery.

Hadrian interrupted him to respond, "Carolina saw them only as a form of rebellion to annoy Darcey, never actively participating in occult activities. It was a social refuge where she felt free. If Fleur had learned about it, she would have eventually joined them to feel closer to Carolina’s memory, without having the same discernment as her mother has. She would have risked being indoctrinated by their absurd ideology, putting her powers in service to the most vile things, without even realizing it, like most of them."

"Has Fleur ever given you reasons to question her judgment?" Zain simply asked.

Hadrian and Ouray looked at him at the same time, intrigued and concerned. The two men appeared to contemplate his words.

"Not really, well, there was her mini-adolescent phase, wandering in the enchanted forest..." Hadrian answered hesitantly.

"Spells and magical mushrooms, I remember. But nothing really dangerous or worrying, when you think about it..." Ouray added, searching his memory.

"She's always been quite..." Hadrian began, gradually recalling.

"Trustworthy, very mature..." Ouray concluded, slowly realizing his mistake.

"Which explains her reaction better. But if she's never given you reason to question her judgment, why did you keep the truth from her?" Zain asked them, just as simply.

The two men seemed confused by the straightforward realization that they had handled things wrongly with the young sorceress. Even though their intentions were noble, they had nonetheless hurt Fleur unfairly.

"Fleur has already been through so much in her life... It's true that we exclude her sometimes, but it's only to protect her," Ouray said mechanically, as if to ease his conscience.

"I have a feeling that the best way to protect those you love is to be honest with them," the young boy told them, with an emotion he didn't understand the source of. It was as if he felt with great intensity that someone had hidden something major from him, although he couldn't remember who, or what, or why. Nothing persisted, except the bitter taste of betrayal, and fear.

"Do you remember something ?" Hadrian then asked him, his eyes shining with a mixture of curiosity and concern. He understood the importance of these words and was aware that they could hide a crucial part of Zain's identity.

"No, just a strange sensation, like the certainty that my world was completely disrupted, violently, before my arrival here," Zain replied after a slight pause, his thoughts engulfed in inner turmoil.

"That's true; we haven't discussed yet the issue of your appearance and what it implies, Zain. We need to gather as much information as possible about your abilities, what comes back to your memory, especially about your origins..."

Ouray declared, having completely set aside the mysterious appearance of the boy on that night.

"Yes, like that creature you remembered, the Tracker. The more we learn about who you are and where you come from, the sooner we'll know who's chasing you and how to stop them," added Hadrian, more determined than ever to assist him.

"I appreciate your help, sincerely, but after everything that happened tonight, I just think I need to rest a bit before undertaking anything," Zain confided, his body and mind having been put to the test.

"Of course!" Ouray exclaimed, suddenly realizing of how exhausted Zain must be after the night he had experienced.

"I'll lead you to the guest room; you'll find everything you might need there," Hadrian told him in a soothing voice. Zain smiled at Ouray in greeting before leaving the room, following Hadrian to the designated bedroom. Zain’s mind was in turmoil, and even exhaustion seemed powerless in the face of his anxieties.

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Ouray was comfortably seated on the living room couch, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug, lost in a sea of thoughts when Hadrian returned to the room, breaking the silence. "Did you make yourself a cup of tea?" he inquired.

Ouray let out a light sigh before responding with a hint of bitterness, " That was originally my intention, but I ended up spiking it. If we decide to stay any longer, I'll be joining A A faster than we defeat this evil."

Hadrian replied with a touch of mischief : "What happened to your infamous 'It's so good to be back home?" teasing his friend's optimism upon their arrival in town.

Ouray shot him a weary look, choosing to remain silent, and brought the cup to his lips, taking a long sip of the alcohol-infused tea. In the meantime, Hadrian confidently made his way to the antique wooden globe-shaped bar, which occupied a corner of the room. He carefully poured himself a glass of golden whiskey, letting the amber hues play in the subdued light.

"Don't worry, we're in the same boat," Hadrian declared reassuringly.

"How's Zain, by the way?" he inquired, curious to learn more about the boy.

Hadrian replied with a tinge of irony in his voice, "Well enough to disparage the guest room's bathroom."

Amused by the remark, Ouray continued, "Are you talking about your precious marble bathroom from I-don't-know-where?" He referred to one of the rooms Hadrian had renovated a few years ago to breathe life back into this manor in dire need of a facelift.

Still offended, Hadrian exclaimed : "Calacatta marble. Ouray, he had the audacity to call it 'basic'! Basic!" The memory of the exorbitant cost of the imported marble was etched in his mind, and Zain's comment had clearly irked him.

Observing Hadrian's reaction with amusement, Ouray noted : "He certainly seem to have a personality all of his own."

He found it entertaining to see his friend getting bothered by the young man's remarks. Indeed, the immortal often proved surprisingly sensitive to criticisms of trivial aspects of human life, such as architecture, creating a paradox at the core of his personality.

Taking a moment to think, Hadrian remarked : "Given his character and tastes, I doubt he comes from the less fortunate neighborhoods areas of Redwaters."

Ouray, realizing the importance of gathering more information about Zain, declared with determination : "It's imperative that we learn more about him."

Hadrian nodded before adding : "We already know he comes from afar. He asked me, 'What time will the suns rise? Plural.'"

"Even though Fleur's pendant seems to indicate that Zain isn't a threat to us, we shouldn't forget why we returned to town," Ouray reminded him, his expression serious.

"The nightmares Fleur had..."

"Her dream warnings were clear: 'On the full moon, it will begin.' While we don't yet know what that entails, Zain is likely connected to the series of disasters depicted in her nightmare and that might occur," Ouray explained.

Perplexed by these words, Hadrian reminded him, his voice filled with confusion: "But you heard Zain calling for help in Fleur's subconscious. You were the first to tell us to help him."

Ouray agreed and calmly explained to him: "That's correct. But don't lose sight of the fact that he seems to possess considerable powers, to the extent that he's being pursued across worlds by beings capable of controlling a creature like that Tracker to hunt him down. We need to find out why..."

Visibly moved by these words, Hadrian replied: "But that's our mission, isn't it? To help those in need... It was our priority before the pursuit of the relics for The Order consumed all our time. It's what we do best; it's what you did for me."

Emotions overwhelmed him as he remembered the pain of learning about the suffering of the supernatural beings that inhabited Redwaters, without him intervening or even suspecting their plight.

Seeing his reaction, Ouray responded with conviction:

"Of course, that's what we're destined to do. We'll help Zain and restore balance for all oppressed and persecuted creatures, whatever the cost may be. I'm merely emphasizing that Zaïn’s appearance is not a coincidence. We need to gather as much information as possible about this situation to be prepared."

Hadrian paused for a moment, searching for the best way to express himself. He murmured, his voice tinged with fascination:

"The magical surge that emanated from Zain when he arrived tonight..."

Ouray fixed Hadrian with an enigmatic gaze, his sparkling eyes reflecting ancient wisdom.

"Yes, yet another mystery on the long list of things to uncover about him..."

"I didn't have an episode tonight. I was just a few meters from the river, the first time in decades, and nothing happened. I fought a giant spider, was involved in an accident that could have cost my loved ones their lives, and Fleur even confronted me with the secrets about Carolina, but still... nothing," he confided to his friend, clearly perplexed.

Ouray nodded, his brows furrowed with interest.

"Do you think this surge might have somehow alleviated your affliction? It would be incredible, considering that your curse has been impervious to magic so far," he suggested, shrouding the issue in mystery.

Hadrian let out a sigh.

"I don't know, but it's the first time in a long while that I feel like my mind is clearer... as if something has been swept away by this strange energy."

Ouray raised a cautionary finger.

"Hadrian, as relieved as I am to hear that you're feeling better, especially after the recurring episodes since your return to town, I urge you to remain vigilant. Avoid any situation that might cause you to lose control, at least until we know more."

Hadrian nodded slowly.

"Don't worry about me... I'm far from hoping for any improvement in my condition. I was just adding this piece to the puzzle that is Zain's abilities."

An enigmatic smile graced Ouray's lips, revealing his deep insight.

"Hadrian, don’ you think it might be possible that, after all these years, all this suffering, she simply decides that the curse should finally end? That you've repented enough for the past?" he dared to ask.

Sadness clouded Hadrian's face.

"I don't think I deserve it myself, not today, not ever... So I doubt that she, in particular, would come to such an absurd conclusion."

Ouray placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Redemption begins with oneself, Hadrian. With the belief that you can rebalance the scales. Doing good, helping others... It's not just an act of contrition for you, but your destiny, and it counts for something."

Hadrian let silence hang for a moment; his friend's words resonated within him, but the guilt was too deeply ingrained for him to fully embrace them. Still, a part of him longed to believe.

"And as for Fleur? We really need to try to make things right..." Hadrian said, eager to change the subject.

Ouray nodded with determination.

"I believe I have more to make up for in that regard than you do... I'll take care of it tomorrow."

He released a long, melancholic sigh before taking a sip from his steaming mug, filling the room with its intoxicating aromas. Hadrian, following his lead, downed the contents of his glass of whiskey.

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Zain emerged from the bathtub, soaked to the bone, in search of a way to dry himself. He hurried over to the heated wall rack near the door and grabbed a clean towel. With a gentle gesture, he carefully dried himself off.

Standing in front of the large bathroom mirror, Zain observed his reflection. His naked body was speckled with bruises, silent testimonies of his recent trials. He brushed his fingers against a cut on his abdomen, wincing in pain. Such injuries were not customary for him, or perhaps, he had simply forgotten them, like so many other things.

Despite the soothing sensation of the warm bath easing his bruises, his mind was still in turmoil. Even though Hadrian and his companions had eventually shown themselves to be welcoming, and even though this house was a perfect sanctuary - regardless of what he said to Hadrian to annoy him - he couldn't silence the voice in his head that warned him. And who could blame him? Nothing in this world felt familiar: nor the places, nor the climate, nor the people.

The discovery of his powers might have offered him a glimmer of comfort, the certainty that he could defend himself if needed. However, the complete lack of control over these abilities only intensified his anxiety.

In a short amount of time, Zain had managed to form an impression of each person he had just met. Their faces, expressions, voices, and gestures had left fleeting but significant imprints on his questing mind.

Ouray inspired wisdom and trust in him, and Zain hoped he might help him find a remedy for the amnesia that hindered him. A deep sense of distress washed over him at the thought of Fleur feeling so betrayed by her friends, a bitterness that he oddly felt as if it were his own. He wondered if betrayal had also struck him before he was propelled through that portal into this strange world, or was he simply an emotional sponge for the feelings of those around him?

Hadrian seemed impulsive in his convictions, like a man whose spontaneity had been silenced, a constant challenge for Zain, who couldn't resist teasing him. His gaze, tinged with profound darkness, betrayed a burden he carried within. Even though he had just met him, Zain felt a deep empathy toward this tormented being and a burning desire to relieve the weight on his conscience. In Hadrian's eyes, he saw both undeniable dignity and astonishing vulnerability, reasons that drew him to want to know him better.

The young Péri left the bathroom and headed to the guest room's closet in search of clean clothes. The closet contained an assortment of garments that, similar to the rest of the house, evoked no familiarity in him. A pile of T-shirts in various sizes was unfolded one by one but quickly put back. The pants, all too loose for him, met the same fate without hesitation.

As Zain began to despair, ready to put on any rag in frustration, his eyes landed on a gorgeous violet silk robe, delicately hung among the coats. Finally, a garment with personality, he thought, as he removed the robe from its hanger to put it on. The silky sensation against his skin brought a smile to his lips, like a sweet memory. The violet fabric also reminded him of something familiar, though he couldn't explain why.

Tightening the robe's slender belt around his waist, Zain moved to the large window to the right of the bed, where a charming, inviting window seat layed below. He settled in, eager to view the outside landscape. However, a thick fog obstructed his view, making the property's garden barely discernible. The night seemed endless, even though Hadrian assured him that the single sun of this world would rise soon. "A single sun, what a strange tale," he unconsciously mused, gazing at the trees beyond the window.

Suddenly, a bird appeared in front of the window, bursting out of the fog and taking Zain by surprise. His heart skipped a beat as he jumped on the window seat. In an instant, the bird swiftly flew away and disappeared again into the mist. Zain let out a sigh. He was way too agitated, mocking his own reaction to a simple bird after everything he had experienced that night. You're being ridiculous, he scolded himself silently.

Getting up from the window seat, Zain cast a hesitant look toward the spacious bed in the center of the room. His body longed for rest, but his mind seemed to have other plans, whirling at a frenetic pace. The young boy finally made the decision to leave the room, eager to discover the mysteries hidden in other corners of the mansion.

With slow and silent steps, Zain made his way along the dark corridor that connected the guest room to the left part, at the top of the grand double staircase. His gaze wandered over the paintings adorning the walls of the long corridor, captivated by these works with fascinating colors, masterpieces from artistic movements he knew nothing about, but which stirred heightened sensitivity in him, impossible to ignore.

The Victorian architecture of this mansion, the faint scent of humidity mixed with woody aromas, and the creaking floor under his bare feet all created a whirlwind of new sensations within him.

As he reached the top of the staircase on the left, determined to wander until he could finally find sleep, Hadrian's voice suddenly rang out :

"You can't sleep either?" he asked.

Zain turned his head and spotted Hadrian standing at the other end of the corridor, at the top of the staircase on the right, just a few meters away from him. He nodded in agreement, confirming what his interlocutor had asked.

The immortal made his way to Zain, shirtless and only dressed in a simple black jersey shorts, visibly just leaving his bed.

"I see you've got your hands on Fleur's robe..." Hadrian remarked, sporting a small smile as he saw the boy wearing the silk garment that was evidently too small for him.

"I thought it was yours..." Zain quipped, displaying a nonchalant attitude that left no room for embarrassment.

"Not really my style," replied Hadrian.

"True, why bother with a robe when you can stroll around naked," Zain teased, surveying Hadrian.

"That's what I wear for training!" defended Hadrian, appearing somewhat embarrassed.

Zain stared at him intensely, a mischievous smile on his lips :

"Training for what exactly?" he quipped.

A blush crept up on Hadrian's cheeks, a reaction that hadn't happened to him in a long time, piquing his intrigue.

"Alright, you've got me! My name is Hadrian, and I'm a chronic exhibitionist. what about you? what's YOUR excuse?" he joked, finally relaxing a bit.

The boy smiled, amused:

"I'm sorry, but my amnesia prevents me from participating in the revelations game."

Hadrian smiled at him without adding anything, seemingly unconvinced by his explanation.

"Okay, I admit that the robe might be a bit tight on me..."

"A bit?" teased Hadrian, looking him up and down.

"Alright, a lot then! Okay!" he reluctantly admitted before continuing, "But how could I resist the feel of silk against my skin?"

"You didn't need to resist; you just could have worn the matching pants. You'll find them in the drawer under the coats," Hadrian added with a wink, a triumphant smile brightening his face.

Zain blushed in turn. Pants? How could he have missed the pants? The boy was beginning to feel embarrassed, realizing that Hadrian had outsmarted him at his own game.

"All of this wouldn't have happened if a certain exhibitionist host had had the courtesy to lend me decent clothes! Did you see the stuff in that sad closet? I'd rather wear my own frocks despite their condition..." Zain defended himself in a frenzied tirade, his face growing increasingly red despite himself.

"I might have a solution to your problem," Hadrian calmly interrupted, finally putting an end to his incessant complaints.

"If this solution involves any form of training, I'll stop you right there. I've already used muscles tonight that I didn't even know existed!" Zain declared with a hint of sarcasm.

"I have a better idea. I think I'm finally beginning to understand my audience..." replied Hadrian, evidently having something in mind, before turning back, heading toward his bedroom.

"Are you coming?" he invited Zain, disappearing around the corner of the hallway.

Curious about what the immortal had to show him, Zain quickly caught up with him.

Stepping into Hadrian's bedroom, Zain was instantly struck by the grandeur of the space before him. The room was at least twice the size of the one he occupied. A modern brass canopy bed majestically sat in the center of the suite, while a stone fireplace added a warm glow to the ambiance. The walls were adorned with intriguing paintings, each telling its own story. A magnificent chandelier hung from the ceiling, brilliantly illuminating the space, while an imposing oak desk stretched along the wall opposite the bed.

Hadrian, standing on the other side of the room, patiently awaited for Zain to join him before opening the double wooden doors that stood before them, thus revealing a second space that left Zain in a state of almost dizzying wonder.

"Welcome to my dressing room" Hadrian declared with a conspiratorial smile.

But Zain was already absorbed by the vision before him. Stepping into the enormous room, he felt his breath catch at the abundance of storage, from floor to ceiling, dressed in fine woodwork overflowing with clothes of all kinds. Italian suits in vibrant colors, imported French cashmere sweaters, ties and unique ascots from England. An intoxicating scent of white pepper musk wafted through the air. In the midst of this giant closet, a piece of furniture displayed jewelry and watches of unparalleled rarity, and an entire wall was dedicated to an incredible collection of shoes. Zain moved as if in a trance, gently touching the fabrics with his fingertips, admiring the treasures that Hadrian had amassed throughout his long existence.

Meanwhile, Hadrian watched Zain's eyes light up with wonder, silently congratulating himself for successfully surprising him. It was a rare moment when Zain was momentarily speechless, captivated by the opulence surrounding him.

"Hadrian... I think I'll finally be able to get some sleep," Zain announced with bliss.

"Pajamas are all the way at the back. They still won't fit you, but they should do, at least compared to..." Hadrian cast one last teasing glance at Fleur's robe that Zain was wearing, leaving little to the imagination about how it draped on the boy.

Zain ignored his remark, too captivated by the sanctuary around him.

"I'm going downstairs to train now. Feel free to take anything you want, really," Hadrian added.

Zain's eyes widened in surprise, like a child discovering the exquisite taste of dessert for the first time. He headed for the aforementioned pajamas while Hadrian was already leaving the room, his mission accomplished.

The young prince remained incredulous about what he had just experienced. While he suspected that his host with the heavy accent hid multiple facets, he didn't expect to discover such commonalities with him. This pleasant turn of events allowed him to lift the veil on an initial memory, suddenly reminding Zain that this evening was his nineteenth birthday.

Copyright © 2023 Hardianarcher; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Fleur needs to learn patience and I have to wonder who 'she' is....

"Hadrian, don’ you think it might be possible that, after all these years, all this suffering, she simply decides that the curse should finally end? That you've repented enough for the past?" he dared to ask.

Sadness clouded Hadrian's face.

"I don't think I deserve it myself, not today, not ever... So I doubt that she, in particular, would come to such an absurd conclusion."

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Fleur has a lot to learn, and a long way to go indeed..And as for the "she", answers are coming soon...

Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!

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A lot of information was learned in this chapter!  Darcey did Fleur an injustice (as she did her mother before her) by not training her to be a better witch.  Darcey was deeply affected by her daughter's death, but that doesn't excuse her for being a lousy parent.  That being said, Fleur threw one hell of a temper tantrum, worthy of any 15 year old!  Darcey and Zain's mom certainly like to keep info from their children.  And finally, just like @drsawzall I wonder who "she" is.

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We are slowly getting to the core of the story, a lot of revelations are bound to be revealed as we progress, and SHE will be explained soon, although she was already mentioned very briefly before in chapter two, right after Garth's revelations to Hadrian's, when he leaves the tattoo shop...

Thank you for reading!

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