Master’s presence feels stronger, angrier maybe. It doesn’t seem like a good idea to call out to him. Just because he watches over me doesn’t mean that he likes me any more than anyone else. He says that he watches me because I am Farad’s son, but the younger me had thought that he was my father -and the connection stuck. He still feels like a father to me. I have no idea if he feels the same way or not, but there is always hope, even in the dark. Which reminds me…I need to get home by nightfall. Checking the sky, I notice a second figure. Zenia. With her strong will, no doubt about that. Digging deeper into her emotional conscience, into the core of her emotions, I suddenly feel the hate she feels towards me. It confuses me, the strength of it and the way that it seemed to burn with utterly no reason. I stepped back at the sheer force of the reacting emotions that followed my discovery. No doubt she had been monitoring my thoughts. Though it was expected, the indignant shout breaks the quiet, and anger rises from the presence of Master. Oops… Better get out of here as soon as I can.

“That’s right! Run, you lowly snoop!”, Zenia’s voice shouts venomously

“ZENIA!”, Master’s voice rings out angrily, “Return to your dwelling! AT ONCE!”

“Not helping”, I whisper to myself, “Not helping at all, Master” Knowing that a shouting match was probably about to start, I quickened my pace, getting out of range of the worst of the shouts before they became unbearably loud. Though with my luck-

“I SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU TO GO TO ABERDEEN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?!?!?” Master’s shout sounds like thunder, and paired with the empathic connection, it feels hundreds of times worse. Zenia’s response is lost in the wind, but I can tell that she is not happy about the fact that Master is there. That is strange. I check the connection that I had opened between my mind and hers and discover that it is still open. The surprise that I feel, from both her and me, can’t be expressed in words. I did, however, feel a glimmer of respect towards the power that she had, keeping the connection strong since there was no way that I could be the one doing it. My empathic ability was weak to say the least, possibly the weakest since Heath, one of the only people to fail in every skill set. I had hoped that my power would strengthen by the testing, but that was a small hope, one not worth mentioning.

Running down the streets, I felt the wind bite my cheeks. Winter was soon to come, no wonder about that. It was probably better that I continued to go to my dwelling. There was less of a chance that I would be able to get in trouble with Master if I was with my mother the whole time he was “talking” with Zenia. There was no way that I would want to get in trouble right now. Master’s fury is a tsunami when it is released, destroying everything in its path, even the most stable and hard-earned relationships if you get in his way. Hopefully, I was not too far right now and would make it before the first snows fell upon the realm. The first snows were always a celebration for all of the people, called the Winter Festival, but this year was a terrible one. Many of the crops had failed and there was not enough food for everyone. Those who had shared what they could, but the festivity was gone. There was nothing anyone could do to bring it back, no matter how much they tried.

I reached my house as the last of the sunlight left the earth, and the sun sank below the horizon. All seemed peaceful and calm around the house, for the first time this year. After checking for unfamiliar presences, Master’s orders for every building that I entered, I went through the door. The smell of fish cooking was delicious, and I felt my hunger rise. Mother was in the kitchen, according to my senses, but when I got there, I couldn’t find her anywhere. I checked the presences around me, for a second time, then a third. My senses still said that she was in front of me

“Mother? Where are you?” My voice was quivering. I could tell that there was something wrong, but what? My mind was already piecing things together. A dish on the fire… the door unlocked… Mother’s presence where it wasn’t… This would not end well. Not well at all.