XIII — Hexed

Sam had felt the sensation before. Through the wilderness that nearly ended him, to the dire wolves that were possessed and ravaged half of the refugee town, he had felt the same energy and, while he is only able to sense, not see, Byleck’s negative mana when he had ravaged the town with the controlled dire wolves and his own shadows; this time was different. In front of him is a tear-streaked, soul-broken mage who had just learned about Sam’s fling with someone from the refugee town. And she didn’t need to think about it further, she knew exactly who it was.

She had counted three, two, one until she confirmed it was true. There was a part of her that had desperately believed it was not true, and that part of her grieved for the romance she once had with Sam; grieved for the romance she could have had with him.

And now that part of her died faster than the turning of snow caps from frost particles into black, as if her aura had darkened snow: dark in color but still very cold. It reflected what she had been going through and the otherwise brilliant mage is now a husk of herself. Sam stood a bit further, getting blasted by the distance, cautioning himself not to step to the dark snow, as her aura continued to grow.

“Vexia, stop!”

Vexia looked to face Sam. Her tears kept flowing, her makeup now streaking through the tears.

“If I can’t have you,” Vexia started, her voice shaky, perhaps in the mixture of confusion, shock, and anger. Sam realized what she would be doing and moved to stop her. “No one should.”

Sam paused in his tracks, bow drawn.

Steady. He is trembling.

Breathe. He was running ragged.

The arrow won’t follow him. He knew of this, but even if there was a chance he could convince Vexia, he’d take that chance over and over again. He didn’t care if the arrows would miss her, he just wanted to strike to her compassion.

“Don’t you dare lay a finger on her.”

Sam’s bow draw tightened. He had never been this angry before, even concerning someone. But in the dead of midnight, he was ready to feel mad, his protectiveness expressed as raw rage. For a while, it seemed that it could rival Vexia’s own confused and heartbroken anger.

“Not on my watch, Vexia.” He raised his bow. “This will not end well for you.”

Vexia, even when emotionally charged and dangerously devastated, still knew that she was no match for the archer. She may have been a genius, and she might know how to cast spells, but when it came to survival and keeping themselves alive, she never held a chance against Sam. She had known how efficient he was, and now, as his eyes flared with passion to protect his newfound family, Vexia knew she was down on her luck.

The aura slowly dissipated around Vexia, the dark stains on snow particles remained, but the aura itself rendered at a lower capacity than what she had shown a few moments ago.

“You’re right,” she admitted. “I’m no match for you.”

Vexia looked at him defiantly, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, but she frowned full of scorn and anger.

“But she deserves to know the truth.”

Sam’s eyes widened as Vexia vanished into black dust with some purple flaming streaks covering the escape. Sam approached that area hastily, scanning left, right, and center trying to figure out where she had gone. Sam tried to use his trained senses, and even chanted some wind spells to track gusts of wind that seemed different from the rest—nothing. He had let her escape.

Except Vexia didn’t escape.

She rematerialized in front of a young woman who was sitting on a bench praying to the Great Mother, after the blizzard. The young woman stood up, confused and slightly dazed as Vexia approached her.

She was still wearing her travelers’ garb, so the young woman recognized her with a different name. It was the name she had used to disguise herself, to get closer to Sam, and convince him into loving her back. It was the name she used to introduce herself, and now finally knowing the person who had shared in his love, she approached her still streaking with tears. The young woman, who was standing, took several steps backward, as Vexia approached her, her expression no one could read.

“Vera? What are you—”

Vexia hushed her with her right pointer finger, and the chaos of the silent breezes followed her command and became still. The young woman was confused and suddenly became more dazed. Her confusion suddenly enclosed in a state sealed and locked away as Vexia licked her lips. She had hexed her.

“My sincerest apologies, dear Ellen,” she said, her voice mimicking a sultry songstress diva or someone who uses their magic for extra services. She only ever used this to charm people, or to hex them. “You deserve to know what kind of man Sam is. The rest of the choice is yours.”

And then, as Ellen was entrapped in a trance, now fully hexed by Vexia, she kissed her, a lot deeper than when she kissed Sam. Both women felt the force of the kiss, Ellen struggling to fight it, but the hex had already taken effect; Vexia could feel Ellen breaking away, and she empowered the effect the hex already had. They had broken through the kiss as Ellen started jolting like crazy until she passed out.

“I’m sorry Ellen,” Vexia continued in a humbler, more sorrowful tone. “You deserve better.” She put her hood up and walked towards the entrance, dissipating into thin air, leaving behind the same marks she did in the wooden part. Barely noticeable; but for Vexia, her heart had been shattered so easily and so quickly that it didn’t matter to her if she was noticed or not anymore.

She vanished crying.

Meanwhile, Sam was frantic.

He had run through the snow covered streets to find Ellen, bumping through every place where he thought he’d find her. It was very uncharacteristic of him, he’d usually either be traumatized or efficient, but he was never frantic.

The lanterns flickered, some swayed, and Sam was following their brightness; but where the lanterns lit up the otherwise dark roads, Sam’s fire was ignited with light because of desperation. He couldn’t, for the life of him, trace the path where Vexia had gone, as the snow had covered the roads. He was panting, sweat dripping from his face; he was running himself ragged trying to search for her. The air grew colder, and Sam finally stopped at a tent, falling down to his knees. This must have been karmic retribution catching up to him, or so Sam had thought.

What he didn’t expect is the person who bumped right out of the tent he had paused to breathe: someone who, as Sam would immediately see as soon as she stepped out, would be alarmingly concerned for both the well-being of Sam and Ellen.

“Big… Bro Sam…?”

Sam looked to where the voice came from. Again, he saw how concerned she felt, not just from being a young girl.

Sam remembered because she had the highest mana affinity amongst the Lantern Children.

Mana affinity levels that could rival even Vexia, who by now, Sam had realized is long gone.

Sam stood up, his footsteps feeling heavy as he staggered on his standing stance.

“Kat…”