This is the second part of the same story! If you haven't read it yet, you can find Part 1 here. Enjoy...
The Moon Temple is unusually empty this evening. The brothers enter quietly and both instinctively move to go to their room, like they usually would this time of day. As they approach the stairs up to the servants’ quarters, they’re stopped by a figure sitting at the top of the stairs, his broad shoulders blocking out most of the light behind him.
“Well, their limbs are all intact, so that’s something,” Vaughn says, raising an eyebrow.
Iris steps up beside him, her own expression softer than usual. She looks at them knowingly, her eyes lingering on Lucian’s face.
“I never doubted them for a moment,” she says.
A warm smile breaks on Vaughn’s face, his eyes brimming with pride.
“Nor did I,” he says.
Lucian scuffs his boot on the stone floor.
“I guess that means you already know our mission was successful,” he says.
Vaughn stands up and strides down the stairs in approximately three steps. He grins and wraps an arm around both Lucian and Aaron’s shoulders, directing them away from the stairs.
“Successful? Don’t be so modest,” he says.
Iris steps in front of them and gives Vaughn a sly glance.
“I’m more surprised at your modesty, Vaughn. Not making this about you? I’m shocked,” she says.
Vaughn tilts his head in mock deference.
“It’s true, they would never be here without my-”
Iris shoots him a look.
“... Our, teaching. But I give credit where it’s due. I can appreciate a well-executed plan when I see it. But enough about the mission!”
Vaughn slaps Lucian on the back.
“I want to know what kind of magic you’ve been holding out on us!”
Vaughn glances at Aaron.
“And you, boy, but I doubt you’ll unveil yet another ability,” he adds.
Aaron’s eyes widen.
“Gods, I hope not… Does this mean we’re getting our tattoos?”
Iris smiles wryly.
“Well, you are Luna’s Blades now,” she says. “You’ve earned her mark.”
Lucian smoothly slips out from under Vaughn’s arm.
“I need to grab something before we go,” he says, dashing up the stairs.
Aaron rubs his eyes.
“We don’t get to take a nap first? It’s been two days…” he mumbles.
“Get used to sleeplessness, Aaron,” Iris says, “There’s a lot more of that in your future.”
“And a lot less in ours, hopefully,” Vaughn adds. Then he gives Iris a suggestive look. “Well, unless-”
“Finish that sentence, and I’ll make sure you sleep permanently, Vaughn,” she shoots back with a glare.
Aaron’s face twists with disgust. “Gross. Get a room.”
Vaughn grins and opens his mouth to say something, but Iris cuts him off sharply. “Don’t encourage him.”
Vaughn gives her a smirk. “Touchy.”
“I’m sure you wish I was,” Iris mutters under her breath.
Aaron sighs in relief when Lucian comes back down the stairs, tucking a loose piece of paper into his pocket. Vaughn releases Aaron and turns to leave.
“Best not keep Vera waiting,” he says. “I’m sure she’s eager to see her newest canvases.”
Lucian glances at Iris.
“You already told her we were coming? Isn’t that jumping the gun?” he asks her.
Iris watches Vaughn with a softness in her eyes.
“He didn’t want to wait. I agreed.”
Aaron looks around in wonder as they step into the tattoo artist’s shop. Though, “shop” doesn’t seem like quite the right word for it. That implies some form of logic. This place feels more like walking into a dream, bright and indistinct. Though, maybe that’s just because he’s currently sleep-deprived.
Glass lanterns hang from the ceiling, painted in a variety of colors and patterns that cast curious shadows on the stone floor. Intricate tapestries of rare beasts hang from the walls, and bars of metal in every shade are stacked in neat rows all around. There are also so many knick-knacks, Aaron loses track of them all.
A woman with hair so black it’s almost purple is sorting through the metal ingots thoughtfully on the floor. She looks up abruptly when they enter the shop, and Aaron’s struck by her bright pink eyes.
“Ah! My favorite customers!” she says, springing to her feet.
“Don’t you say that to everyone, Vera?” Vaughn asks, closing the shop door tight behind them.
“Yes,” Vera says with a sly grin.
She flips the “open” sign in her shop window to “closed.”
“But in your case, I actually mean it.”
Iris looks around the shop critically, probably judging the frivolous decor. “The money has nothing to do with it, I’m sure,” she says dryly.
Vera tilts her head thoughtfully.
“True enough, the Moon Temple pays handsomely for my talents!”
Iris narrows her eyes. “And your silence,” she says.
“That too,” Vera says with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Aaron can’t take his eyes off the woman’s arms. They’re completely bare, despite the cold. Most likely, to display the silver tattoos adorning them. It’s rare to see a demi flaunt their tattoos so brazenly, but Vera wears them like a badge of honor. The longer Aaron looks at them, the more he realizes that they aren’t ordinary tattoos either, even by demigod standards. The silver-toned ink slides across her skin, slowly winding and unwinding in spiraling patterns. It reminds him of oil in water; mesmerizing. Aaron’s never seen anything like it before in his life.
How does she do that?
Vera glances between them, looking for someone.
“Now, where is my favorite?” she says.
“I’m flattered, Vera, but-” Vaughn starts.
“Not you,” she says. “I’m talking about my kindred spirit. Ah!”
Lucian looks around from behind Vaughn, and Vera lights up at the sight of him.
“I almost didn’t recognize you, you’ve grown. How long has it been?” she asks.
“Eight years,” Lucian replies.
“Eight?!” Vera looks down at herself with a scowl, “Gods, I feel old. Alright. Coat off. Let me see it.”
Lucian suddenly looks embarrassed with the attention.
“I’m assuming you mean my arm…” he says.
“Are you daft? Yes, your arm!”
Lucian pulls off his coat and lays it aside, looking uncomfortably at Vaughn and Iris, who both watch his embarrassment with amusement. Aaron leans closer to Iris.
“Does she… Always do this?” he asks.
Vera looks at Aaron with a grin.
“An artist never forgets her masterpieces. It’s not often that they walk back through my door,” she says.
Lucian rolls up his left sleeve, and Vera takes his arm in her hand. She examines his silver tattoo, in awe of her own work.
“You’ve grown into it beautifully, Lucian,” she says. “Please tell me you’ve brought me another design.”
Lucian reaches for his coat to look in the pocket. “I did, actually. I’ve had this one in mind for a while.”
“Show me! No, actually… Save the best for last.” Vera suddenly drops Lucian’s arm and looks at Aaron again.
“You must be the newbie. Name?”
“Aaron.”
“First time getting a demigod tattoo, Aaron?”
Aaron feels his heart drop. Until now, he’d been pushing back the memories that kept pressing against his mind since walking into the shop. It wasn’t terribly hard, the bright colors and welcoming atmosphere were in stark contrast with his previous experience. But now, faced directly with the question, the memories come crashing back. Aaron swallows.
“No,” he says.
The room feels different now. Heavier. Everyone but Vera knows the story behind his demigod tattoos. They don’t often speak of it. Vera seems to pick up on the shift and hesitates before responding. Then she smiles.
“First one from me, then. You’re in for a treat, Aaron.”
“A treat” is the last thing he’d call receiving a demigod tattoo. But Lucian had told him before that Vera’s method is completely different from the other artists in Auroris. Aaron smiles back tentatively.
“I can handle it,” he says.
Vera frowns and glances at Vaughn and Iris, an unspoken question in her eyes. Iris is the one that answers it, addressing Aaron.
“Vera has a gentle touch, Aaron. You don’t need to fear her.”
“I’m not afraid,” he says.
He’s not lying. Not exactly. Vera’s not even remotely imposing; it’s hard to picture her inspiring fear in anyone. But the muscles in his back still twitch, remembering the pain.
A gentle touch? It doesn’t make sense to Aaron. How is molten metal under the skin supposed to be gentle? He’d already resigned himself to the pain. He was able to receive the seven marks on his back without so much as a whimper. He can’t imagine it would be any different for the Luna’s Blades tattoo.
“Alright,” Vera says, “take off your shirt, let me see what I’m working with.”
Aaron responds obediently, though it feels strange to reveal his marks. He was never supposed to show them to anyone outside the Moon Temple on the off chance that someone might recognize his blood metal.
She’ll have to know my blood metal, Aaron realizes suddenly. That means she’d know his parentage, which means…
Vaughn and Iris trust her, he reminds himself, taking a breath.
Vera paces around him, examining her newest canvas. She stops when she sees the marks on his back. Aaron flinches when she runs her fingers over the ones on his upper back. Her hands are cold.
“Some of these are distorted,” she says. “How old were you?”
Aaron clenches his hands into fists to stop them from shaking.
“Five,” he says. “For the first one.”
“And how many abilities do you currently have, Aaron?”
Aaron looks at Vaughn, unsure if he’s allowed to share that information. Vaughn gives him a nod of approval.
“Two so far,” Aaron says.
“They must be powerful. These marks are pure metal,” Vera replies, removing her hand from his back.
Aaron forces himself to relax his shoulders. Vera turns to his mentors.
“The Blades’ tattoo will have to be diluted, or he risks blood sickness,” she says. “This will likely only strengthen his existing abilities, if anything at all.”
“Do what you have to do, Vera,” Iris says with a nod.
“Luna typically requires her mark to be on the back,” Vaughn says. “We thought maybe you could shift the pre-existing marks to make space.”
Shift them? Aaron wonders.
Vera examines Aaron’s back again, then shakes her head. “If this was my work, I could, but demi tattoos made in the traditional manner can’t be altered. There’s too much scarring. Even if I could shift the ink, the skin is too damaged.”
Vaughn and Iris exchange a look.
“It’ll have to be on his chest, then,” Iris says.
Vaughn shrugs. “It’s unorthodox, but I think the Priestess will make an exception in this case.”
Vera cracks her knuckles. “Chest it is, then,” she says. “Have a seat, Aaron.”
Aaron cautiously lays down in the chair she indicated.
“I don’t suppose you brought me a design like Lucian did?” Vera asks, almost wistful.
“I didn’t realize I was supposed to…” Aaron mumbles.
Vera sighs as she begins picking through the metal ingots again. “I’ll come up with something, I suppose.”
Iris shakes her head. “Just give him the symbol, Vera. A flashy design isn’t necessary.”
“Not necessary, no, but if Luna insists on branding her people, we might as well make it beautiful,” Vera laughs.
“I seemed to manage just fine with a simple design,” Iris mutters under her breath.
“And giving you the tattoo was no fun at all, Iris,” Vera says cheerfully. Then she looks over at Vaughn with a smirk and a wiggle of her eyebrows. “Unlike Vaughn. He’s all fun.”
Iris stiffens as she stares daggers at Vera.
What…? Aaron thinks.
Then Iris whips around and throws open the shop door.
“Lucian,” she says coldly, “walk with me.”
Lucian looks surprised to be called out, and he glances between Iris and Vera, trying to work out what the issue is. Then he locks eyes with Aaron and gives him a small shrug. Aaron shrugs back. Lucian could always read Iris better than Aaron ever could. If even he doesn’t know what’s happening, Aaron’s not going to waste his effort trying to work it out. Lucian turns and follows after Iris, and the door closes behind them with a gentle thud.
Vera scowls. “What did I say?”
Aaron looks at Vaughn, who stands solid as stone. Vaughn having nothing to say? Maybe this is some kind of dream. Then Vaughn clears his throat and distracts himself with a small, potted plant sitting by the window. His eyes glow faintly, and he reaches a hand out to it. Its withered leaves brighten, the plant perking up.
“Iris and I are leaving Auroris,” he says.
“What?!” Vera and Aaron speak at the same time.
Vera stares at Vaughn for a moment, mouth agape.
“Together?” she asks.
Vaughn doesn’t respond, watching the plant slowly produce blooms. Vera crosses her arms, a disbelieving smile stretching across her face.
“You and the ice queen?” she laughs.
Vaughn gives her a side-eye, a little hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. Not a smug smile, that would be normal for Vaughn. This one is more akin to shyness. Aaron blinks.
Vaughn can be shy? He wonders in astonishment. Who are you, and what have you done with my mentor?
Aaron had never met a man more brazen and shameless than Vaughn. He’d trained under him for 8 years and never knew he was capable of casual emotions like embarrassment or self-consciousness, things that had plagued Aaron his entire life. Right now, it’s like watching the moon fall from the sky, or the Twilight River drying up. It doesn’t happen.
Vera laughs and shakes her head.
“I can hear the cries of women across Auroris, for the wolf has been slain. Fortuna smile on you, Vaughn. You’re going to need it.”
The plant in front of Vaughn blooms, and he picks off one of the flowers gently. He approaches Vera and tucks the flower into her hair.
“Last one,” he says.
“I always loved that party trick,” she says.
“I know.”
Vera sighs and turns to Aaron.
“Suppose I should get back to business, eh? Blood metal?”
Aaron’s caught off guard by the sudden change of subject. He grips the chair tightly, eyes wide. Blood metal? Can he answer that? Vaughn answers for him:
“Brass,” he says.
Vera pauses, looking at Aaron curiously.
“You’re a rare one, aren’t you?” she says.
Aaron swallows, struggling to find words to respond, but Vera holds up her hand.
“No, don’t tell me. The less I know, the better. The Moon Temple only pays me enough to keep so many secrets.”
Aaron nods mutely and watches as she assembles the necessary metals to make the alloy. He shifts in the chair, glancing at Vaughn.
“And you’re sure this won’t affect my magic?” Aaron says uncomfortably.
The last thing he wants is to strengthen the magic he already has. It’s unmanageable enough as it is. Aaron can’t imagine what he might become if another ability unlocks. Well… That’s not true. He can imagine it, all too well.
I’d become exactly what he wants me to be.
Not Vaughn. He understands the dangers of Aaron’s magic, because his mentor’s magic is just as volatile when not kept in check. What little refinement and control Aaron possesses, it’s only because of his training. No, Vaughn would never encourage Aaron to awaken more magic.
Vera picks up a bottle of black liquid and shakes it.
“I’ll be diluting it with ink, so there’ll be very little brass in the mix. If anything, it might provide you greater control over your magic,” she says.
Aaron leans back in the seat again, relaxing slightly. At least he doesn’t have to worry about that part. Now it’s just bracing himself for the searing pain of the tattoo. But now that he thinks about it… Aaron glances around the shop. He doesn’t see any kind of burners present for heating up the metal. How is she supposed to get it in its liquid state without heat? He doesn’t see any needles either. How exactly…?
The question is answered as Vera’s eyes suddenly blaze, a neon pink glow. The metal ingots before her shimmer and melt into a puddle. Then the liquid metals slither into the air, weaving together with the movement of her hands like a dance. They merge and gradually shift to the gold-ish shade of brass. Vera glances at Vaughn.
“Pour out the ink, please,” she says, focusing intently on the liquid metal floating in the air.
Vaughn obediently takes the ink bottle and pours it out toward the counter, but the ink hovers in the air before it touches the counter. A bead of sweat trickles down Vera’s forehead as the ink slowly starts to merge with the blob of metal, tinting the shade just a little darker.
“This is the hard part,” Vera mutters.
“Not the tattooing itself?” Vaughn asks curiously.
Vera shakes her head slightly, not taking her eyes off the ink.
“The trace metals in the ink are much harder to manipulate,” she says.
Vaughn looks at the empty ink bottle in his hand.
“Perhaps you should start searching for an apprentice to assist you, Vera,” he says.
Vera draws the blob of metal through the air until it hovers directly above Aaron. Aaron shrinks back instinctively, but he doesn’t feel any heat radiating from it. Vera wipes an arm over her face, clearing away the sweat, then looks at Vaughn with a rueful smile.
“Like your friend here, I’m a rare breed, Vaughn. Finding an apprentice is difficult when no one shares my abilities.”
Vaughn frowns. “I’ve met plenty of children of Narat.”
Vera turns her attention back to Aaron. With one hand, she holds the floating metal in place. With the other, she reaches to the metal and pulls out a tiny sliver. It reshapes itself into a thin needle in her fingers.
“Yes, but hardly any of my brothers and sisters possess the ability to manipulate metal this way. Fewer still, the finesse required to wield it as such.”
Vera tilts her head, as though a thought just occurred to her.
“Though, I suppose a child of Artifex might have something similar… Maybe I’ll start my search again.”
Vaughn walks around to the other side of Aaron and leans against the chair, settling in to watch the process.
“You should,” Vaughn says. “It would be a shame to see this art form die out with you when you retire.”
Vera smiles. Several more needles hover in the air around her now.
“Oh, I’m far from retirement yet, Vaughn. I’m surprised you’re so content to dip out early.”
Vaughn scoffs, “I never said I was retiring. That’s what old, rich people do.”
Aaron glances at Vaughn. “But you’re leaving Luna’s Blades. Isn’t that the definition of retirement?”
“Luna only requires two Blades, boy. Iris and I staying would be excessive at best. At worst, we’d only get in your way.”
At this point, all the metal has been separated into tiny needles around Vera. Hundreds of them. They hover out of the way as she reaches for a bottle of alcohol and a cloth. She pours some of the alcohol onto the cloth and wipes it on Aaron’s bare chest. Aaron’s nose wrinkles from the smell.
“Then what do you plan to do now, Vaughn?” Vera asks.
“There’s plenty of work out in the world suited to our… Particular talents.”
“Plenty of work in Auroris too,” Vera points out.
Vaughn hesitates, looking at the tapestries on the walls. Then he shakes his head and looks down at his feet.
“This city’s taken enough from both of us. It’s time we start something new.”
Aaron watches Vaughn’s face, trying to understand the quiet sadness in his voice. He’s still trying to wrap his head around this side of Vaughn. Why didn’t he know about it before? It’s like an entirely different person is standing next to him. Not a mentor, or a father, or whatever else Aaron had considered Vaughn as over the years, but… a friend. Warm, constant, and surprisingly vulnerable at his core. Aaron feels a pang of grief as reality sets in.
I’m never going to see him again.
He’s going to miss Vaughn. He didn’t even think about that yesterday when he finally claimed victory over him. For the first time, Aaron wishes he’d gotten to know the real person behind his mentor. Now, he only sees glimpses; a connection he could have had if only he’d noticed it earlier. That knowledge hurts more than the inevitable pain of the tattoo.
Vera nods with understanding at Vaughn’s words, silently accepting them. She claps her hands together, and the needles hover over Aaron’s chest in anticipation. She grins.
“Last chance, Aaron. Any particular design you want for your Blades’ tattoo, or am I doing this my own way?”
Aaron eyes the needles nervously. He doesn’t really think about that stuff, not like Lucian. A demigod tattoo is just a tattoo. But then a thought occurs to him.
“Can you make mine move like yours?”
Vera laughs and looks at her arms.
“Sorry, kid. I’d have to follow you around for the rest of your life if you want your tattoos to shift.”
Aaron looks at Vera, aghast, the needles all but forgotten in an instant.
“You’re saying you make your tattoos move by constantly using your magic?”
Vera gives him a wink. “You got it.”
Aaron didn’t realize that kind of fine control existed for demigod magic. For most, it’s all or nothing. That’s certainly the case for him. That Vera could have a steady and constant flow of magic running through her, channeling it into something so precise as making her tattoos move… He can only dream of something like that for himself.
Vera seems to find his reaction amusing. She tilts her head.
“Tell you what. I’ll make a design that’ll look good when it shifts, that way the next time you see me, I can make it move. Sound good?”
Aaron nods, suddenly reminded of the needles again. Will they burn? It doesn’t matter. He can handle it.
Vera examines her canvas for a moment longer, then nods her head decisively, having settled on a design in her mind. Then she sits halfway on his chair and takes one of the floating needles in her fingertips. Leaning over him, she taps the needle into his skin with two fingers, and it disappears entirely. Aaron winces in anticipation of pain, but other than a little prick from the initial tap, he feels nothing. No searing pain of melted flesh, or the icy burn of damaged nerves. The sliver of metal spreads out under his skin in a tiny circle, faintly warm, like a thumb pressed to skin. Aaron looks at Vera in surprise.
“That’s it?” he says.
Vera smiles, another needle already in hand.
“Just a few hundred more to go,” she says.
Lucian’s breath curls from his lips in the cold air as he follows Iris’ brisk walk from the tattoo shop. She’s definitely upset about something, though he can’t imagine what. It’s strange for her to be so emotional about anything at all. But Lucian knows better than to pry. If Iris wants him to know what she’s thinking, she’ll tell him.
Iris’ steps slow as more distance grows between them and the tattoo shop until she trails to a stop. Lucian hovers close by, but at a safe distance. At the moment, she feels like a snake poised to strike, each muscle in her body taut, jaw clenched, eyes like flint. Getting too close to her would probably result in a slap at the very least. Then she takes a deep breath and releases it, as though setting her thoughts free to the mist. The tension releases, and the line of her shoulders softens. Then she turns to Lucian, face smooth.
“Your mission. Vaughn and I observed you both,” she says.
“I’m… not surprised,” Lucian says. “It was a test, after all.”
Iris searches his eyes for a moment, looking for something. Lucian wonders what it is she finds there.
“So you understand the nature of the test,” she says finally. “Why I warned you.”
Lucian’s gaze flicks to the ground, avoiding her pale eyes. They’re not glowing right now, but they might as well. Her magic lets her see straight through to the truth, but Lucian suspects she can do that to some extent even without her mother’s blood.
“It was a test of obedience,” he says.
“Obedience?”
Lucian looks up at her at that, confused by the question. Was he wrong on that? No. He couldn’t be. But she’s looking for a deeper answer.
Lucian pulls back the layers of his thoughts over the course of the day and examines them critically. Obedience was only half the issue.
“Of conscience,” he decides.
Iris shakes her head.
“You didn’t tell Aaron, did you.” She says it more as a statement of truth than a question.
“No,” Lucian confirms.
“Why?”
Lucian searches for the explanation, but it doesn’t come. How is he supposed to have it make sense to Iris, who’d dedicated her entire life to Luna and the Moon Temple, just as Lucian had? Neither of them do anything in half measures. But Aaron? He doesn’t have the same kind of dedication. He doesn’t have to.
Iris interprets his silence as an answer.
“You do him a disservice, Lucian,” she says. “Becoming a Blade is a choice. And choices have a cost that we all have to pay sooner or later. You can’t protect him from that.”
Lucian feels something tighten in his chest. He clenches his fists, and his response comes out as a whisper:
“I can.”
Lucian blinks, then meets Iris’ eyes. His next words are more confident.
“I did.”
Iris looks stunned for a moment. An unstoppable force meets an immovable object as a teacher finds herself face to face with her student and sees her equal. She wavers, and Lucian sees doubt on her face for the first time in his life. Her words are a confused tumble.
“You can’t, Lucian. You can’t atone for a life for him. You’re an assassin. Death and bloodshed are part of the job, you will both get your hands dirty.”
“Not if I can help it.”
Iris’ lips tighten in frustration.
“Do you understand why Luna requires two Blades?”
Lucian quirks a faint smile.
“Because she’s a fan of duality,” he says dryly.
“Do not smartass me right now,” Iris hisses.
Lucian gives her a sideways glance. He doesn’t intend to answer her question. She’s going to tell him anyway, so there’s no point. Iris huffs out a breath.
“The burden of a life… It’s not meant to be borne by a single person. You’re supposed to carry it together, or you will both fall.”
Lucian stands straight, looking at Iris calmly.
“You said it was about choice and cost. I made the choice. I’ll pay the cost.”
“But Aaron-”
“Aaron doesn’t have to pay the cost if he doesn’t know it exists.”
Something flickers in Iris’ eyes, sorrow, and loss, and pain. A grief inside her, but Lucian doesn’t understand its origin.
“You would sacrifice your very soul for your brother?” she asks softly.
Lucian smiles faintly.
“He’s the best of us. I’d like to keep him that way,” he says.
Iris examines her hands, as though she can still see the blood staining them red.
“I fear for you, Lucian,” she says finally. She meets his eyes, and he shifts uncomfortably in the light of her raw honesty. “I fear that someday you will look in the mirror… And you won’t recognize the person who gazes back at you.”
Lucian knew the risks and the cost when he chose to become one of Luna’s Blades. The idea of losing himself doesn’t scare him because he never belonged to himself in the first place. Iris had told him as much a year ago. Why is she suddenly singing a different tune?
“My heart belongs to our Lady. She can do with it as she pleases,” he says.
“My words,” Iris says.
“They were true.”
Iris pauses, glancing away. “I’m not sure that they were,” she says, her voice hushed.
Lucian looks at her in stunned confusion. What is she talking about? For that matter, why did she want to have this conversation with him in the first place? Why did she leave the tattoo shop so angry?
He asks questions about his mentor because the thoughts are more comfortable than the ones she places before him. The same thoughts that crept in as he crouched on the rooftop and peered through the scope. He rolls his shoulders, letting the thoughts slip away again like water off his back.
“Do you fear losing yourself, Iris?” he asks. It’s not accusatory, but wary; cautious of the answer.
Iris blinks.
“I wish I had. Innocence lost cannot be regained, no matter how hard we might try.”
Lucian is surprised. He didn’t think Iris was the kind of person to harbor regret.
“Then… you already know why I’ll never tell Aaron about the test,” he says hesitantly.
Iris closes her eyes and breathes softly. Then she shakes her head.
“I was supposed to tell the Priestess if I thought either you or Aaron failed any part of the test,” she says.
Lucian watches her, frozen. “Aaron…”
“Failed,” she confirms.
“Because I lied to him…” Lucian says softly, putting the pieces together.
Iris looks up at the swirling mist as it catches the electric blue glow of the street lamps.
“I respect you, Lucian,” she says. “And even if I would often appear otherwise, I care for the two of you like the family I never had. So… I understand your desire to protect those you love far more than you know.”
Iris sighs. She starts walking back toward the tattoo shop, and Lucian cautiously falls into step beside her.
“It’s because of that respect that I won’t tell the Priestess what you did,” she says. “You’ll proceed with the ceremony. You’ll both become Blades.”
Lucian feels like a weight’s been lifted off his shoulders. But then she continues:
“I just hope you’ll come to understand what you’re sacrificing for him before it’s too late.”
Iris steps up to the tattoo shop door, her fingers on the handle, but Lucian stops a few feet behind her.
“Iris…” he says, his voice tight.
Iris looks back at him in confusion. He looks at her with wide eyes.
“Why does this feel like a goodbye?” he says.
Iris smiles faintly, but her eyes are sad.
“Because it is one. Vaughn and I leave Auroris together in the morning.”
It’s like the ground just opened up under Lucian’s feet, a dark maw of loneliness and betrayal. His feet don’t want to move toward the shop, as if forward motion is acceptance of his mentor’s words. Vaughn and Iris had always been there as long as he could remember. 22 years of lessons and backbreaking work. Of anger and frustration. Of shared laughter and sharp grins. Of family.
Gone? Just like that?
“Let’s get you that new tattoo, Lucian,” Iris says, opening the door.
Vera was elated when Lucian handed her his design for the Luna’s Blades’ tattoo, though she expressed some concern for the size of it. It would take up his entire back. But Lucian had been waiting too long to risk not activating a new ability with these infusions. The odds of blood sickness are still fairly low for him, and Vera eventually agreed to accommodate the full design.
Lucian had been anticipating unlocking more magic for years, so he thought receiving his second tattoo would feel like a triumph, especially when accompanied by his initiation into Luna’s Blades. But laying face-down on Vera’s table, feeling the quick prick of her needles on his back, he feels hollow. He glances at Aaron, who’s currently admiring his own tattoo in the mirror with fascination: the Luna’s Blades’ symbol, surrounded by gently shifting clouds. He’s completely enamored. Then he looks at Vaughn and Iris, who are watching Vera work with the flighty interest of people who have something completely different on their minds. They’re standing so close together, shoulders almost touching. That hadn’t seemed significant to Lucian until now. Vaughn lowers his voice and says something to Iris that only she can hear, and it provokes a soft smile from her. He can’t believe he hadn’t seen the nature of their relationship before now. Of course they’re leaving Auroris together. It should have been obvious.
They would move on to the next phase of their life together, no longer bound to the Moon Temple or in service to Luna. It was rare for Luna’s Blades to retire at all, so few of them survived long enough to do so. Vaughn and Iris were a marvel for that: a testament to their skill. Whatever had been forged between the two of them in their 17 years of service together would be unbreakable.
I’m happy for them, Lucian thinks.
But the cold feeling in his gut tells him that that’s a lie.
He wants to celebrate with them. He wants to celebrate his own success in becoming a Blade too. But there’s only one emotion that latches on, its teeth refusing to let go: betrayal.
Lucian’s fingers slowly curl into a fist, then release again.
How could they leave? he asks himself.
How could they leave the Moon Temple? Or Auroris? How could they leave the life of a Blade? How could they leave…
How could they leave me?
Everything else pales in light of that final question.
Vaughn and Iris are his family. They’d said as much themselves. To watch them go is like waving farewell to his own limb. The two of them had been there since the very beginning, they’d practically raised him. He doesn’t even know what his world will look like without them in it…
Emptier. It would be emptier.
The thought holds, swimming lazily through his mind, almost trance-like. Lucian flinches when he feels another prick in his back, and it jolts him awake. But the sensation doesn’t fade this time like the others did. Instead, it spreads, reaching deep beneath the skin, stretching to his limbs, stirring in his chest. It hums along his veins and unfurls glittering wings within his heart. Lucian recognizes the feeling. Magic. Raw and untamed, awoken for the first time.
Iris notices the change in him before anyone else does.
“Vera…” she says, reaching out a hand in warning.
Vera doesn’t look up, still weaving the metal into Lucian’s skin. “Almost done,” she says.
“Vera, you need to step back,” Iris warns.
Vera blinks and looks at Lucian’s eyes. His pupils are dilated, and a soft purple glow emanates from them.
“Just a bit longer, Lucian, you can hold it,” Vera says, far more confident than she should be as she tries to finish the tattoo.
Lucian clenches his hands into fists and his breathing comes in shallow bursts as he tries to wrestle his magic under his control. He has no idea what this ability is, or what might happen if it hits Vera. This didn’t happen last time. His skin feels like it’s burning, particularly along his tattoos. He glances at the silver tattoo on his left arm and he sees why: it’s starting to radiate a soft purple light. Lucian wants to say something to Vera, to warn her that he can’t restrain the magic, but it’s like he’s struck mute, his body and mind fully distracted by the wave of raw power threatening to crush him.
Vera presses one more sliver of metal into his back with her hand.
“There! Oh shit-”
The magic blazes angrily from his tattoos and his eyes, and Lucian gasps, unable to breathe. His body can’t contain it. Vaughn and Iris step back, wary. Aaron watches in horror. Lucian tries to curl himself away from Vera, but it’s too late. A shiver runs down his spine.
Suddenly, the magic is released. He feels it crackle along his veins like the sky after lightning; just as fast, and just as quiet in the aftermath. Lucian scrambles up straight and looks at Vera right as she collapses to the floor with a dull thud. Her head hits the counter as she falls. Nobody moves.
Aaron stares at Vera with wide eyes and gives voice to the question Lucian doesn’t dare to ask.
“Is… Is she dead?”
Iris dashes over to Vera, and Lucian draws up his legs abruptly so she doesn’t bump him by accident. He can still feel his new magic fighting within him, begging for release. Apparently its expulsion on Vera wasn’t enough, as his eyes are still blazing brightly despite his best efforts to master it. Lucian hardly dares to breathe as Iris checks Vera’s pulse.
Iris releases a sigh of relief. “She’s asleep.”
Lucian stares at the fresh gash on Vera’s head from the fall, wet with blood. “Her head…” he whispers.
Iris examines the injury, touching it gingerly. Though her fingers come away red, she looks at it in confusion.
“It’s… stopped bleeding already,” she says, meeting Vaughn’s eyes.
Vaughn steps closer, keeping a wary distance from Lucian, and cranes his neck to look at Vera.
“I knew your second ability was likely going to be a spectacle, Lucian,” he says, “but I have to admit, I’m almost jealous.”
Lucian stares at Vera, and he thinks he can see it: the wound on her head seals up completely. Vaughn looks at Lucian and crosses his arms. Why does he look so pleased?
“It seems your abilities stacked,” Vaughn says. “Gods, what I wouldn’t give to have tandem magic.”
Iris lies Vera down on the floor gently and shoots a glare at her partner.
“Now isn’t the time, Vaughn,” she mutters.
Then she stands and faces Lucian. He can still feel the magic vibrating through him, and he flinches away from Vaughn and Iris, unsure what the range of effect is. Is it touch? Or simply being within a few feet of him? Iris looks at him levelly.
“You’re still volatile, Lucian. Master yourself.”
Lucian grips the edge of the table and grits his teeth.
“I’m trying,” he hisses. But his magic flares again, blazing through his tattoos. Iris and Vaughn both step back. Lucian can see a hint of fear in both of them.
“Then try harder,” Iris snaps.
Lucian glares at Iris. He’s getting tired of her holier-than-thou attitude. She was the one who didn’t tell him they were leaving. She was the one that taught him to be ruthless, then turned around and said he would regret it. She was the hypocrite who said a Blade couldn’t fall in love when she fell in love with her own partner.
Child of Ius my ass. She can’t stop lying, can she?
Vaughn rolls his eyes at Iris.
“Of course you would try to bully your own magic into submission,” he scoffs. “It doesn’t work like that for all of us, Iris.”
Iris looks startled at Vaughn’s words. She opens her mouth to say something, but Vaughn raises an eyebrow, and she closes it again. Vaughn shakes his head.
“Relax, Lucian. It’s triggered by your emotions.”
Lucian glances at the tattoo artist lying on the floor. “But Vera-”
“Vera is fine. Your magic made sure of that. I’m sure she’s going to feel very well-rested in a few hours.”
Lucian isn’t so sure about that, but he tries to clear his mind all the same. He takes deep, slow breaths and imagines the electricity along his veins flattening out, returning to a natural current. But the bitterness toward Iris continues to prick at the edges of his mind, making his magic flare again. Vaughn and Iris are both watching him, waiting expectantly for him to exhibit the control that was always required of him his entire life.
Why should I? he wonders. Why do I have to follow their rules, when they don’t even follow them themselves?
It’s the magic talking. It flutters in his chest like a little bird caught in a cage, angry at the notion of restraint. Lucian catches that little bird in his hands and watches it struggle. A “gift” from his father. Likely the same sort of magic that Somnium used on his unwilling mother. The connection to his father irks him, the lack of control a shameful similarity. He focuses on that feeling instead, turning his anger inward instead of at his mentors.
I am the master of myself, not you. And I don’t lose control.
In his mind, Lucian clutches his fingers around the bird and squeezes.
Ever.
Lucian exhales, and the glow along his tattoos fades. He meets Iris’ eyes, his own equally clear now. She nods, satisfied. But Lucian feels nothing.
You can read Part 3 of "Honing the Blades" right here!
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