The man whose beauty rivaled that of the heavens separated himself from the crowd in the mall.  No one noticed him as he watched Chenoa flee from her own power.  His eyes were sharp in contemplation.  Licking his lips, he wondered if even he could stand up to such a blow. Sighing he turned to the crumpled heap that was his servant. 

“Wake up,” he said calmly.

His words seemed to glimmer in the air before sinking into the birdman. Stirring the birdman groaned.  Blood trickled dark brown with red sparks from under his hairline. His eyes were unfocused and his skin a sickly yellow.  He looked up at his master, disconcerted and bewildered.  Then his eyes followed where his master was watching, and he saw Chenoa disappear around the corner.

“So, it worked,” he coughed, small flakes of the brown blood exiting his mouth.

“Yes.  I guess she does have a bit of power,” his master said, sounding unconvinced.

“That I would say, master.”

“But no control.”

“Not unless she is a vicious person.”

“She is not.  She is too kind to be cruel and to be able to control her powers correctly.”

“Kindness is not a fault, master.”

“It is when you are a god.”

“She is not a god…”

“No, she’s not.”

The master turned to leave, and the birdman cleared his throat quickly.

“Master?”

“Huh?”

“I know I will heal on my own soon enough, but some assistance would be appreciated.”

Glancing down, the handsome man started.  He forgot that his servant was in such bad condition.  Chenoa’s spell had not only forced him to release her, but it had broken every bone in his hands and smashed him backward in the chest.   Tutting his tongue, the master bent down and looked at the crippled hands.  The pain had to be excruciating, yet his servant sat there with a blank, tranquil face.

“Of course, Ark,” he said apologetically.

Waving his own hand over the mangled ones, the master whispered tenderly, “Heal.”

Instantly Ark’s hands cracked and snapped as the bones, tendons, and skin all realigned.  A soft sigh escaped Ark’s lips as the pain faded away and his hands were back to normal. Yet he still could not move from the injury to his chest.  His master waved his hand and the shirt opened to reveal Ark’s chest.  A black handprint marked his wiry chest, lying directly over his sternum. Red marks radiated from the hand, showing how the fractures and breaks all started from the handprint.  It was gruesome to look at but fascinating in its own rights.

“She hasn’t lost her touch, I see,” the man tried to sneer, but his eyes were creased with concern.

“Can you heal me, Master?” Ark asked cautiously.

“Don’t be stupid.  Of course, I can,” he snapped back, scowling.

“I didn’t mean to question you, master.  I just know that her will was very strong.”

“But never stronger than mine. Now be silent so I can heal you.”

Ark laid back, resting his aching body.  His master quietly waved his hands and muttered several words as he concentrated hard.  Soon there was the sound of realigning bones and tissue again.  The red lines disappeared and only the handprint was left.

“I feel much better, Master, thank you,” Ark said with a gentle smile.  He could see his master’s frustration as the handprint remained.

“I am glad, but stay still.  I am still working.”

“It is okay, sir. I don’t mind a scar.  I am full of them.”

“I will finish healing you as I said.”

Ark knew better than to argue with his master, so he stayed quiet.  Yet the master tried again and again and nothing worked.  He studied the handprint for a long time before he finally understood what was so strange about it.  Laying his own hand over it carefully, the man’s eyes grew wide as did Ark’s.  The size of the print was twice as big as his own hand.

“That cannot be her hand, sir,” Ark whispered.  “She is powerful, but just a wee thing.”

“No, it is not, Ark. She obviously broke the bones in your hands and arms, but someone else did this.”

“But who, sir?”

“I don’t know.  They kept themselves well-hidden even from me.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we may have to move up my plans.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t risk someone else taking her before I do.”

 When Chenoa got home, she hid in her room and refused to come out.  She made sure her windows were closed tight and her door locked.  The image of the man or whatever he was haunted her.  How could she have done that to someone?  She never ever wanted to hurt someone.  It wasn’t why she was learning to be a Spellbinder.  In fact, she really was training so she could protect people.  After she had learned that her mother had died to protect her, Chenoa couldn’t help but want to ensure she would be able to protect those she cared about so she would never lose someone again. 

After an hour, a soft purring reached her ears.  Looking around, Chenoa startled by the small, cat-sized Ursa sitting on her bed.  Chenoa had no clue how she got in but there Ursa was, just watching Chenoa.

“Do you want to talk?” Ursa asked sweetly.

“How did you get in?” Chenoa quickly inquired.

Ursa just smiled, swinging her tail in a soft tempo.  Chenoa knew that smile already.  It meant Ursa wasn’t going to tell her. Petting Ursa, Chenoa looked away momentarily.

“Something happened today at the mall,” Chenoa began.

“Did you have a fight with Gabby?” Ursa encouraged.

“Yes, but that’s not what I’m talking about.  A man approached me, and he knew I was a Spellbinder.”

“What?”

Ursa tensed.

“Yeah…he said he could smell the spells on me.”

“He did, did he?  What else did he say?”

Chenoa gave Ursa a brief rundown of what happened.  Ursa listened intently, her eyes growing darker as she listened.  Once and while she would nod her head, but otherwise she asked no questions and made no comments. When Chenoa finally finished, she took a deep shuttering breath and waited for Ursa to talk. Yet Ursa didn’t say anything for a long time.

“You did the right thing, Chenoa,” Ursa finally said, laying her head back down on the bed, closing her eyes.

Waiting for more, Chenoa chewed on the inside of her cheek.  Ursa didn’t speak again though.

“That’s it?” Chenoa finally asked, confused.

“What more can I say? Do you have questions for me or something?” Ursa responded, opening her eyes quizzically.

“I don’t know, but it feels like it was a big deal.  I mean how did he know I was a Spellbinder? What was he?  Should I be worried?”

All the panic that Chenoa had been suppressing flooded to the surface.  The fear of the man and the fear of herself rose into her chest and she felt as if she was drowning.

“Chenoa,” Ursa said softly. “You need to relax.”

“How can I relax?” Chenoa squeaked and was startled by a sparking noise. 

Jumping Chenoa looked around but didn’t see anything until she looked at her hands.  Her body was glowing a two-toned red as small sparks flicked off her body like embers being spit out by a fire.  Gasping, Chenoa held her hands out in front of her, her heart racing in fresh terror.  The glow intensified as well as the sparks.

“You need to relax, Chenoa,” Ursa repeated more firmly. 

“What is going on?” Chenoa whispered.

“You are scared so your body is reacting.  You are instinctively protecting yourself.  You must relax so that you can control it.”

“How do I do that?”

“Deep breaths and focus on your heartbeat.  Try to slow your heartbeat down.”

Gulping Chenoa tried, but her panic was blaring in her ears.  Ursa padded up to her and stretched out her long neck until her scaly forehead rested against Chenoa’s.  There was a spark then Chenoa felt like cool water was splashing over her hot body. She saw her woven energy flow from her body onto Ursa, where it glimmered momentarily then sunk into Ursa’s beautiful scales.

“Now calm down,” Ursa sighed her voice very heavy sounding. “I have absorbed some of the excess.  You should be able to think clearly now.”

Closing her eyes, Chenoa kept her forehead touching Ursa’s as she took deep breaths.  Her ears did not feel flooded with sound anymore.  Her heart felt more controlled.  After a few minutes, Chenoa felt the fear and power surge recede into her.  They stayed like that for a few minutes before Ursa pulled back. 

“I am sorry,” Chenoa said, embarrassed.

“Don’t be.  You have never experienced that before.  It can be overwhelming.  Yet you must remember how you just did it because losing control over your powers can cause severe chaos.”

“How?”

“Your body does that as a self-defense mechanism. Your power would eventually lash out and would take over your body so you would be fighting instinctively with no rational thought.  It is a dangerous state.  You won’t think of the consequences or who might be hurt in the process.”

“That sounds awful.”

“It is sometimes necessary, but it must be monitored.”

“Is it what happened earlier today with the man?”

“Did you notice the sparks earlier?”

“No…”

“Then probably not.  It happened now because you are allowing yourself to feel the panic and fear that you suppressed earlier.”

“I felt the power surge though.  I felt how it belted out of me and how I hurt him so badly.”

“You combined your own will with the will of words.  That will happen more often until you learn how to separate the two.”

“Oh…that’s scary, Ursa.  I didn’t mean to hurt him.  I just wanted him to let go of me.”

“He knew what he was doing.  He was testing you.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because I know it to be true.  It is the only thing that makes sense.”

“Why could he smell spells on me?”

“He has to be from the other realm.  This makes me wonder what he was doing over here.”

“So, being from the other realm lets you smell spells?”

“No, but it does mean he is probably an anthropomorphic creature.”

“Huh?”

“Anthropomorphic creatures are ones that are animals or people that possess qualities of both human and animals.”

“Like Morgrifs?”

“No.  They are much more simplistic power-wise.  They are merely talking animals or men who have animal abilities, like sight, smell, speed, and so on.”

“Okay…”

“He was probably a man with the abilities of an animal with a great sense of smell.  Spells have a strong distinct smell.  I personally could tell when you walked in that you had used a strong spell and that someone had used a spell on you.”

“Someone used a spell on me?”

“Yes. By the underlying scents, it was a spell to make you invisible.  That is probably why no one in the mall noticed your confrontation. It also means that there was a second person there who could use at least basic spells.”

“You can smell all of that?”

“Dragons have a keen sense of smell when it comes to spells.”

“Oh.”

“But, as I said before, you did the right thing.  He shouldn’t have laid his hands on you.”

“You said he was testing me.”

“I believe so.”

“Then did I pass or fail the test?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think we should be worried?”

“Yes.”

“Someone is coming for me, aren’t they?”

Ursa looked at Chenoa for a long moment before she slowly nodded her head.

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does Cor know?”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Is he powerful?”

“We believe so.”

“Is there anything I can do to stop him?”

Shaking her head, Ursa looked genuinely sad. Chenoa stroked her friend’s head.  Someone was looking for her.  She had felt it for a while now, but she had been afraid to ask. Part of her had hoped she was being paranoid or self-absorbed.  Chenoa had wanted to believe that her training was so intense because she was behind; however, part of her know it was because she may need it.

“He would have come even if I had walked away from my training, wouldn’t he?”

“Yes.  He would have come no matter what.”

“I guess I’m going to see the other realm soon.”

“You may very well.”

“Is it beautiful?”

“Like nothing you have ever seen.”

“It will be exciting then.”