Seymour stood on top of a boulder overlooking the pond, his gaze centered on Ivey. She was also on top of the massive rocks, nearer to the waterfall, sitting cross-legged with her hands against her knees, palms facing up.
Ivey's eyes were closed, her breathing steady, and bits of perspiration formed on her forehead, sliding down the side of her face to her neck. She neither moved nor flinched as Seymour vanished from his rock to reappear in front of her, on the same foundation.
Usually, he'd stay hidden, knowing his presence alone was enough of a distraction on her. This time, however, he was only able to show himself because she was somewhere else. Not her body, of course. It remained here in front of him, where he continued to protect despite the lack of danger.
Quietly, gently, he wiped away the sheen of sweat, jealous of how the droplets caress her skin, sliding down past her neck to make their way between her breasts.
Whether in the past or present, her features, including the color of her skin, were precisely identical to Ivey King. Even Draco, himself, couldn't have predicted this outcome, telling Seymour it was all in the hands of the Spirit. And the whole mess with her memories? No one knew if she would ever get it back or if she was truly meant to lose them.
From her brunette hair to the fullness of her lips and that same sultry gaze that haunted him, she was the same. However, that was where the similarities ended.
Ivey King was a spoiled heir who used everything and everyone around her to achieve her own happiness.
Ivey Link...well...he wasn't sure what to make of her just yet other than she was a fighter and a protector of the weak. Someone actually worth protecting and losing his life over.
How perfect things would have gone if she had this personality back then?
Unexpectedly, the winds shifted, coming to a pause. Branches held while not a single leaf of grass stirred. It lasted only for about ten seconds before everything began to beat again.
In front of him, Ivey gasped, as if she wasn't getting enough air. He noticed the frantic way her chest rose, and her lips tightened as if in pain. Seymour's face hardened unconsciously at her misery. At his sides, his fingers clenched, struggling with himself. It was hard not to go to her aid, but currently, he wasn't needed. Thankfully, Seymour didn't have to struggle for long because Ivey's breathing returned to normal, and Seymour relaxed slightly.
He knew her powers had returned even before he heard The Spirit.
Prepare yourself, Spirit Guide, prepare yourself! You must protect her life this time!
We cannot lose her again! It will be your life this time instead of hers!
Seymour ignored the voices as his fingers came up to move a wave of Ivey's hair back in place.
It had taken her only three weeks to situate herself with the area and ascend to the Oversoul Realm where Draco was waiting. Seymour originally assumed they would be here for at least three months. Now it looks like he'll have to adjust their schedule much sooner than anticipated.
Do not touch her!
"Noisy little chickens," Seymour answered even as his fingers remained where they were.
Insolent! You will be punished!
You dare speak to us that way?
He had never been overly fond of The Spirit, while its feelings for him were the same. The only thing they had in common was to ensure the safety of their Queen. They went about it differently, though. While Seymour risked life and limb, The Spirit...well...it just follows and shrieks at his failures.
"Seymour..." Ivey whispered his name as if sensing his irritation. Her brows lowered slightly into a frown.
Was she worried about him, or giving him a warning?
Seymour lowered his head, "Apologies, my Lady. I'll take my leave, then."
It was just as Draco had said eons ago: your fate is nothing more than that of a master and servant.
Seymour was okay with that.
She had saved him from a lifetime of misery and pain, rescuing him from the streets. He owed her his life after all.
And this time, he would make sure of it.