Nadia

It’s been less than a year fighting as a soldier for Division D. And already I stand outside the office doors of the council, fixing the tie of my suit.

“Hey,” Ezra says, resting a slender hand on my shoulder. The tenderness in their honey-colored eyes looks like pity. I don’t need pity. I have the skills to be successful without it. “You were chosen to intern under the council because they acknowledged your drive and genius. And you, Nadia, are nothing short of genius, trust me. You’re going to do great things. You were made for this.”

“I know.”

I push the doors open. It may be my first day as an intern but I walk in like I, too, am a councilman. Shoulders back and relaxed, powerful without demanding it.

“Ah, she’s here,” Councilman Lysander announces as I walk in. His smile is polite, striking on his young and sharp features. The youngest council member of all of them. But his tone… his tone hides something bitter, a mockery of me. I know why. Unlike the council, I had to fight to get here. I had to become someone without the fame, the riches, the glory. And, even as an intern who came from nothing, I still hold myself with more poise than Lysander ever will. He’s intimidated by me, a nineteen year old in a navy blue sheath dress and black oxfords.

I pay him no mind, nor the other six councilmen around the oval table. I sit on the stool in the back, notepad in hand, and wait for the council leader.

But I still hear them whisper amongst themselves as I do.

"Her? But she’s a woman.”

“She’s a girl. A child!”

“Howl must be out of his mind.”

“How can we trust her, a teenager, with secrets of the council?”

The door creaks open and everyone quiets instantly. A man dressed in white from head to toe walks in, his posture radiating power, demanding respect. His gray hair is slicked away from his face, hangs down to the nape of his neck neatly. His age has not taken his youthful grace from him, nor his handsome charm. His eyes scan the room and light up once they land on me.

“Nadia. Good to have you with us. I hope the council has not given you too much trouble on your first day.”

“Council leader Newman Howls,” I greet in a small bow. “Not at all. They’ve been behaving as expected.”

“Good. Now, shall we get to business?”

***

“Nadia!” Aoife yells in delight before throwing her arms around me.

“Aoife,” Silva scolds. She talks now, but not very much. “Leave her alone.”

“No!” She shouts back with a mischievous grin. Her hold on my tightens. I pretend it doesn’t make my heart beat wildly in my chest. Silva must catch the look on my face because she averts her eyes, clears her throat.

“Enough,” she tells Aoife, prying her hands away. “You’re embarrassing her.”

“I’m just so happy! Even if I knew she could do it, and I did! Nadia I knew you would get the internship! They’d be fools not to see your brilliance.”

I clear my throat in my hands, praying my cheeks aren’t as red hot as they feel.

“How was training? I missed today because of the meeting.”

“Same as always,” Aoife says, sighing dramatically. She hangs an arm around me, despite Silva’s skittish scowl.

“You mean you beat the hell out of everyone in sparring and target practice?” I chuckle. She playfully swats at my shoulder. I wonder if she can feel the way my heart gallops beneath my skin.

“Only the ones who deserved it,” she winks.

“Keep this up and you’ll be an instructor in no time.”

“Don’t say that! Then I won’t be able to spend so much time with you!”

“You will once I make it onto the council,” I tell her plainly. Confidently. Her eyes light up in a laugh. But Silva… her eyes darken.

“Don’t joke around like that,” She says quietly, looking left and right at the empty halls around us. “You’ll get us into trouble.”

“Come on Silva, we’re just joking,” Aoife chuckles, guiding me down the hall. But Silva lingers, her eyes traveling between Aoife and I, dark and troubled.

***
I can’t sleep. My mind keeps wandering to last night’s meeting. Lysander held me back, told me I’m making a mistake by being here. Told me I’m putting the entire council at risk. I wanted to do nothing more than dump the remains of the boiling hot coffee from the pot I was holding on him, burn that pretty face of his beyond recognition. I only held my tongue, kept my eyes down to feign weakness as he left.

I’ve been an intern for more than six months now and he still hasn’t even remotely warmed up to me. Most of them haven’t.

Only the council leader treats me with some form of respect. But for now, I suppose that’s all I need.

I climb out of bed, shimmy into my sweats, and head for the training room to burn off all this angry energy. I don’t expect for the light to be on when I arrive. Nor do I expect Aoife to be there, haloed in white lights, a sheen glisten of sweat plastering her hair from her face as she swings her body against the punching bag.

I watch her for a moment, awestruck. I never get tired of seeing her like this, the way her body moves, so graceful and so deadly all at once. The adrenaline in her eyes, the wild smile on her lips as she attacks. I can’t believe I ever doubted her. She’s a natural at this. She was made for this. 

But she stops as I open the door. I expect her to scowl at me for disrupting her session. But I should have known better. Her smile grows wider. She bounces to the balls of her feet.

“You should be asleep,” She says, failing to fight off that grin.

“So should you.”

“Come to spar?”

“Against you? That would be a death wish.”

“Oh come on,” she whines. “Please? I’ll go easy on you.”

“You said the same thing to Evan. He ended up with three broken ribs.”

“Yeah well he deserved it. You saw how sloppy his form was, didn’t you, Nadia?” She asks, earnestly.

I chuckle, stepping until I’m only three or so feet away. She has a light dusting of freckles on her cheeks. And her eyes, sometimes hazel and sometimes green, look gold in this lighting. I’m close enough to see flecks of orange around her pupils, which are dilated to hug her irises despite the bright lights.

“True. But I still want to keep all my ribs where they are, at least tonight.”

She frowns until a better, more mischievous idea clicks in her head. I know immediately that I’m going to hate this one.

“I have a better idea,” she grins.

“I’m afraid I’m talking to crazy-Aoife right now.”

“No, just no-sleep-Aoife.”

“Same person.”

“Oh come on, just hear me out!”

Despite my reluctance, something deep in my heart sings to see her like this, excited and joyful just to be around me, no matter the occasion. At first I didn’t understand it. But now… now I do. And now I fear it.

Because I see the way Silva looks at her. It’s the same way I do.

“Instead of sparring with our fists… let’s spar with our gifts,” she rhymes in a sing-song manner.

“That’s against the rules,” I say, quickly.

“I know, I know! I know we’re not supposed to ask about each other’s gifts for privacy purposes or whatever. But come on! It’s just us here. I trust you, Nadia. Do you… do you trust me?”

She shifts closer, close enough for my attention to be drawn solely on her pink lips, the way they’ve been bitten raw. The way I subconsciously bite my own lip to imagine how it would feel, her lips on my own. I shake myself out of such incredulous thoughts. It’s foolish behavior. It’s beneath me.

No. I answer. But my voice betrays me.

“Ok.”

She lights up like the sunrise. Like a beacon of pure energy.

“Yes!”

“W-Wait,” I stutter. “I meant-”

“Too late,” She says in a giddy laugh. “Hah! I got Nadia to lower her guard! I’ve done the impossible!” She breathes and then spreads her hands out.

“Ready?” she asks. I sigh. It’s an answer enough for her. She takes a deep breath and I anticipate it, some intense attack. I blink. My walls crumble.

Tiny white flakes fall all around me, dancing from the ceilings. I blink again. Snow? I catch flakes on my open palm. They melt on my fingers. Where my feet are planted, a flower pushes up from a crack in the mats. It pushes up against my leg, twines itself around my ankle. 

“Wha-”

Aoife laughs so hard she has to bend over to catch her breath.

“You should have seen the look on your face! You almost looked scared!” Her laugh is like a song in my ears and I'm dumbfounded by it, by the sound. And the flower blooming from my leg. A spider lily.

Snowflakes catch on my lashes, on my lips. Tiny cold kisses on my hot skin.

“You- you’re…” her cheeks are dusty pink, flushed from laughter and maybe something else. And it’s foolish, so foolish, but I can’t seem to stop myself.

Her face falls into a sort of surprise as her body tugs toward me. Delicately, she twirls in some kind of waltz. Her hand lifts, falls right into my open one.

“H-how did you do that?” she stutters, flustered as the pink in her cheeks turns bright red. She’s so close I can feel her breath tickle my nose.

“Magic,” I whisper, leaning close. I can feel her pulse in her fingers, almost as fast as mine. She must be a witch with the way she keeps enchanting me like this. Her beauty is unparalleled to anything else in this world. It must be fake, a hex.

We’re so close now that neither of us are breathing. We’re stuck in a trance, her eyes devouring me in a way I never thought possible. And I wonder, all of a sudden, if she would be looking at me that way if she knew who I am, who I really am. And just what I’ve done to get here.

“Aoife-” I say softly. Her eyes widen, as though just realizing our proximity. She gasps and pushes me away, causing me to trip over the flower still wrapped around my ankle. Her eyes widen in something like flustered horror.

“I’m - I’m sorry!” she says quickly, stumbling over her words. Faster than I can blink, she runs out the door, taking her snow with her.

I turn over, tucking my knees to my chest as the rejection sets in. And, for the first time in two years, I cry.

***