The Mages had left in the morning— a big group in full gear with grim faces and a lot of determination. Hounds and beasts had overrun a smaller village under Gimma's protection, and no earthly fork or spear could win against the dark hunger of rotten magic.

“Benji… hey, do you feel anything?” Thean whispered. He stood at the passage door between the central and back room, eyebrows drawn together. He looked older today. And wary.

“No. Nothing. He’s fine. So… I don't know what's going on,” the younger Page mumbled. Benji glanced up from his embroidery, a chaotic explosion of spells on the grey lining fabric. Thean was already gone. Benji shrugged and got lost again in the spells.

The sewing rooms sank into an eerie silence, every word and every needle tumbling onto the ground already too loud. Everybody listened. Straining their ears to hear horses and the dull sound of weapons being dropped to the ground. And Kuo watched the Pages from a corner. This was different. He felt the gravity of the situation. A part of him feared his responsibility as a Page, but another part desperately wanted it. The one that felt the buzz and the constant hum of magic within the walls. He peered over to Berinn, who was idling at his table. Kuo knew the Page was excellent regarding the spells, but the overly confident laze rubbed him the wrong way.

He glanced over at Aro, who was quietly speaking with Eva and the headmaster of the Mages. Kuo knew what it meant. They expected one or more drains, and it wouldn't be pretty.

***

Two Months Ago

“Kuo, I will give you three items as a test. These won't hurt you, and they won't give off any spells. You just have to tell me what you feel when you touch them.”

Kuo eyed the items Aro had placed on the old wooden worktable with curiosity and apprehension. He couldn't remember if he had ever seen them on a person in Gimma.

“Anything I feel?” he asked sceptically.

Aro nodded solemnly. “Anything.”

Kuo took the first item into his hands. It was a little red string, woven to become flexible when stretched. He felt a little bit of Spark licking his fingers and retreating like a pup that wanted to play. He was overly familiar with this one and chuckled quietly.

“This belongs to Aik. I recognise Benji’s Spark. It’s like… a little fuzzy friendly greeting.” Kuo looked up, slightly embarrassed by his description but sure about the matter.

Aro hummed thoughtfully, a pleased little smile showing. “I asked about your feelings, not who the item belongs to. Are you sure it’s Aik’s?”

Kuo nodded. “Yeah. I recognise the spark and the magic. It's obvious once I concentrate on both.”

Aro took the string and placed it back on the desk. “Very well. What about this one?”

He slid a little whistle across the desk. It was silver with a beautiful pattern decorating the lower part.

Kuo took the whistle cautiously and turned it back and forth. He sensed the distinct magic of a Mage but no traces of a Spark. A potential match? He felt a shift when he rolled it around in his hand. It was like he was standing on a boat and getting thrown around in a storm. The Spark got nauseous and dropped it instantly.

“No. This… I can’t. It doesn’t feel right.”

Aro arched an eyebrow. “What do you feel?”

Kuo swallowed and searched for words. He didn’t want to hurt any feelings but he also didn’t want to touch it again. “Um… like I’m seasick and tumbling around without any control.” He wrung his hands, unsure about what to expect.

Aro looked at him thoughtfully. “Interesting. I apologise for making you uncomfortable. I thought your Spark might find this one agreeable, but I was wrong.” He smiled with reassurance and took the whistle away.

There was a penannular that looked slightly foreign. The edges of the cloth pin were smoother than the ones Tristan made and reminded him of the foamy water of the sea.

He picked it up tentatively, a sense of homecoming washing over him. The little trace of magic within the metal made his Spark perk up. It crawled along his arm and into his fingertips, eagerly lapping up what was left, crackling and sputtering with anger when it couldn’t find any more.

Kuo shuddered, and Aro cocked his head, studying him with devout curiosity. “What do you feel?”

“Hunger.”

“Hunger?”

Kuo looked at him, eyes blazing with his Spark. Aro hadn’t seen it yet, but it looked remarkable. All savage power and raw ambition. Aro wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or the worst idea ever. The Spark wasn’t something he’d encountered before, so it was risky to bind him to a residential Mage without ensuring that the Mage and Kuo could work with the bond.

Aro gently pried the brooch from Kuo’s fingers. “I understand your spark takes a liking to this one. Unfortunately, you have to wait a bit longer.”

The look in Kuo’s eyes was one of devastation, and Aro hated to waste such a good match, but the protection of the monastery came first, and he had to favour the community's life.

“You can start to work on the irregular spellwork tomorrow. I know you think the basic stitches are for babies. Maybe that will help to soothe the itch.”

Kuo huffed, still watching the cloth pin with yearning.

“I don’t know why I must learn them when I can make up new ones that work better,” he muttered.

Aro clapped his shoulder and gently steered him away from the table and towards the door. He’d give the items back later. They had to leave; otherwise, Kuo might snatch the cloth pin and sniff out the owner. It had never happened, but they also never had a Kashita in the monastery, so all bets were off with this one.

“Because, down the road, you might have to teach the spells to Fledglings when they come of age. And you can’t expect everybody to have the same abilities as you do.”

Kuo blushed. “Sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t want to assume. I’ll go back to the storage room and help Eva.”

He scuttled towards the entrance and vanished into the evening. Aro rubbed his temples, trying to banish the incipient headache. He’d have to prepare a bonding ceremony for Henryk and Anya tomorrow. They were a good match. It was not perfect, but it was good, and Anya would be pleased with the opportunity. Kuo’s reaction still rubbed him the wrong way, but it was possible the Spark was extraordinarily picky and simply didn’t accept anything but Magic nourished by a mother Spark. He could only guess.

The headmaster took the items, tucked them into his cloak's inner pocket, and snuffed out the lanterns illuminating the room. He could save some of his worries for tomorrow.

Not everything had to be dealt with today.

***

The first Page went down quietly. So quietly, they didn't even realise what was happening until Eva jumped over a table and cradled Thean in her arms.

"She good?" Her white eye gleamed, but her tone was strained—no time for niceties.

Thean groaned, a wave of angry spark rippling over his body. "Yes. Just overdoing it."

Kuo craned his neck, body tense. "What happened, Benji?" he whispered.

Benji had just looked up once, not bothered by the writhing Page crouching on the ground.

"Caroll draws a lot from him. She likes to go all in." The blonde Page set his needlework down and frowned. "Dunno why he agreed to this. I mean, I do, but it’s stupid to be so hung up for years."

Kuo frowned. "Huh. Aren't you concerned at all?"

Benji chuckled. "Have you seen her? She's the meanest of them all on the battlefield."

Thean grunted again before hissing angrily: "I am fine, Eva. Don't treat me like a fucking baby."

The southern Page let him go, hands held up placatingly and plopped down on his workstation. She eyed him like a hound would observe an easy target. “Don’t die. We need Caroll for the brunt work.”

Thean got up and shoved her off his table. “Yeah, thanks. I feel touched by your concern.”

Aro clapped his hands. “Silence, Pages.”

The words still hung in the air when another Page groaned and crashed. Then another.

Benji finally dropped his work and turned around to check who had taken hits. “Ohhhh, this isn’t good. So not good. Shit. That’s Lin and Hado.”

Sparks flew, and the two Pages groaned, pain-stricken and laced with fear. Kuo eyed with equal dread as the Pages seemed to get sucked dry of spark.

“That’s a drain. The Mages dip into their source. Crap,” Benji murmured.

Some younger Pages moved to help, but Thean yelled at the group to stay away, even in his weakened state.

“You can get caught in their drain. And it’s not pretty when the magic of your Mage starts to attack the other magic. It becomes an endless loop and uses all the spark and magic, wasting all for nothing," Benji supplied.

Kuo whispered in horror, “Why would that happen?”

Benji shrugged, his fingers clamping down hard on his desk. “Because Sparks and Mages are possessive. Once claimed, you can’t just dip into something that’s not yours.”

Kuo thought about Embry and his magic as it had tried to seek him out and woo him. He frowned and turned to look at Berinn, who watched the other Pages with a rather bored look. Their eyes met, and the Page’s eyes got hostile and defensive. Kuo wondered if he knew or if the general avoidance of his Mage grated Berinn’s nerves and made him defensive. Kuo clutched the garment he worked on tighter, and Berinn looked down at the pile of unfinished Page uniform, his eyes widening a bit before his look turned utterly sour.

“Why are you looking at me?” Berinn hissed.

Kuo shook his head, embarrassed. “Noth-”

Berinn went down. No sparks were flying, no hissing or crackling sound. Just pure agony from a long, drawn-out moan, the rustling of falling fabric, and a faint cling, cling of needles hitting the stone floor.

Eva’s head whipped around, Aro ran, and Benji clapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh fuck.”

Kuo stood there, frozen, when chaos exploded around him with three more Pages going down and everybody else hurdling to get to Berinn, who lay on the floor sobbing and shaking, blood soaking through his tunic at a rapid speed.

“Why would he do that?” the Page screamed.

He looked at his bloodied shirt, his hands dripping with more blood from the Page marks, and the wail wrestling its way out of him was bloodcurdling.

“He can’t do that! I am a good Page. Why didn’t he drain me?” Berinn sobbed, his hands trembling while he looked at the now-ripped bond strips decorating his fingers.

When he attempted to get up, Eva gripped his shoulders and pushed him down again. “You know the rules. Stay.”

Berinn fought her, his blood making his hold on her arm slippery, the pain he caused himself fueling his anger. “I need to find him. We can mend it! I feel it! We can fix it. It’s not real,” he yelled and fought harder. Fists flew, one nearly knocking the Ouga over before she got ahold of his wrists and gripped hard until he moaned in agony.

“I said stay,” she growled, her Ougbenti flaring up and black sparks enclosing the little area behind his desk.

The intimidation worked as the Page started to calm down, sobbing on the ground and rocking back and forth to soothe himself. The other Pages were shocked, all frozen to their spots in silence.

Kuo tried to muster some compassion, but his heart felt empty, calm, and oddly at peace.

“So… it’s a rip. Damn.” Benji whispered.

“But what does it mean?” Kuo knew the bond was broken, but why would it rip so easily when the rest endured a drain?

Benji frowned. “Either Embry is dead, or the contract broke for another reason. But that’s kinda impossible, so I guess he’s-”

Kuo gasped and paled, and Benji turned to look at him.