Spellbound

Chapter 1

    It was a relatively cool night, with the rainy season fast approaching, and a half moon cast a brilliant light over the concrete street. Several poles lining the sidewalks with soft, yellow glows competed with nature in providing the quiet city of Giligha with light. It was evident by the harsh spotlights casting irregular, jagged shadows that man was the winner.

     Beneath one of these lights sat an elegant carriage, attached to four white horses, right outside the gates of an apartment complex. The reason for its visit irritated Commander Royle Bentham to no end. He stood at the open gate with a scowl, his arms crossed, and he glared at the footman holding the door of the carriage open with a slight bow, waiting.

    A gentle hand touched his arm, and Royle softened his gaze when it settled on the beautiful woman standing next to him.

    “You didn’t have to come out,” Misa said in a hushed tone. She held a suitcase, and she was dressed comfortably for her journey. Even after all these years, Royle was still struck by her beauty. To him, she had consistently remained the most beautiful thing in the world. Well, almost. There was one other person who competed for the top spot in his eyes.

    Misa brushed back her hair. In the dim lighting, Royle couldn’t see the few silver strands that were beginning to show. Age had done nothing to degrade Misa’s appearance or mind, and Royle’s love for her had only grown over the years.

    “I wouldn’t let you leave if I had a choice in the matter,” Royle grumbled, wrapping his arm around her waist. She instinctively pressed her hand over his heart. “Especially at this late hour.”

    “Oh, don’t be silly.” Misa laughed. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been called, and it won’t be the last. I’ll be back in a month, give or take.”

    “I know, but they could have given at least a few days’ notice instead of expecting you to come along the moment they knocked at our door. And, it doesn’t mean I feel any better about you going back to that place.” Royle tried to remain calm, but he knew Misa had seen the flicker in his eyes. The past, the painful memories that still haunted him to this day. He hadn’t been able to return to the palace in twenty-four years. Not since Misa had died in his arms.

    “Royle.” Misa moved her hand up to his cheek. “I’m going to be fine. Why don’t you take this time to get closer with the kids? Especially Senya. Talk to her. She’s been a bit down lately. Maybe a little bonding with her father will cheer her up.”

    Royle sighed. He knew what Misa meant. As the captain of a purgehouse, he hadn’t had much time to spend with his children while they were growing up. When he was promoted to commander, his time had been reduced even more. Rellon was luckier, having been taken out on training trips or generally spending his days at the purgehouse doing chores. And when he had become a cadet for a brief period of time, he had the opportunity to watch Royle work. Of course, his interest in being an officer had dwindled when Royle no longer worked from inside the purgehouse, and he had quit to pursue a more academic path, but Royle had been able to bond with Rellon more than Senya.

    It didn’t help that Senya was going through a rebellious phase, and she was starting to pick up Misa’s youthful habits of sneaking out of the house to meet with her friends. Or, Royle seethed just thinking about it, boys. That had more than a few fights exploding in the Bentham apartment.

    “I can try,” Royle said, not feeling the least bit confident. He wished he had been more available when Senya and Rellon were at their most tender age. There was something terrifying about confronting them with discipline, and he often wondered if he was raising them right when their fights escalated into ugly insults.

    “You’ll be fine.” Misa kissed his cheek. “I know. Just remember not to be too demanding with Senya. She closes herself off if she feels like you’re trying to attack her or trap her in any way.” She grinned sheepishly. “I suppose I’m to blame for that.”

    “We were both a bit stubborn in doing everything ourselves,” Royle said, resting his forehead against hers. “Both of them got a double dose of that. Unfortunately.” He grimaced. “Do you really have to go?”

    “You know I can’t refuse the royal council. Queen Sarala personally requested my services by name.” Misa shrugged. “It’s not like you’re going to come with me, either. You never do.”

    Royle sighed. Yes, it was mighty convenient that the royal council needed Misa at the same time every single year.

    “I’ll miss you.” Royle caressed her cheek, which still turned pink in response. At least that would never change. He smiled.

    “I’ll miss you, too,” Misa responded, almost shyly. “I should go. Venigan’s waiting.”

    “Yes, fine.” Royle kissed her, letting his lips linger on her soft ones for a good few seconds before pulling away. “Stay safe, my sweet. I love you.”

    Misa cracked a smile, and it was the brightest thing in the night. She silently slipped from his grasp. “I love you, Royle. Take care of the kids.”

    With a slight wave, she hopped into the carriage. The footman shut the door wordlessly and climbed onto his seat. Royle watched the carriage rush away until it turned a corner and he could see it no more. Then, with a sigh and a sudden weight on his shoulders, he closed the gate and returned to his apartment.

    Already, Misa’s absence was palpable. There was an emptiness about the familiar space that made his heart clench. The lights remained off, save for a single bulb attached on the wall just before the bend that led into a hallway. Royle pulled the string hanging off it, and it clicked off, plunging him into darkness.

    Rubbing his tired eyes, Royle started his way to his room. But, Misa’s final words struck him, and he supposed checking on his children wouldn’t hurt.

    The lights in Rellon’s room were still on, so Royle knocked before entering. His son was sitting at his desk, scribbling away at a piece of paper. There were open books scattered around him, and crumpled pieces of paper littered the floor. Rellon slammed his pen down, scrunched his paper, and threw it behind him.

    “It’s late, Relly,” Royle said, approaching Rellon’s desk. He grabbed the back of his son’s chair. “Still having trouble with your thesis?”    

    Rellon paused. He set down his pen and twisted around his chair. His dark hair was a mess, and there was a familiar smudge beneath his familiar brown eyes. Royle internally grimaced. He had no doubt about where Rellon got his bad habit of staying up the night.

    “It’s still a jumble,” Rellon said. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Another habit he’d picked up from Royle. “But I’m close. I can feel it, Dad. I’m just about to c***k it open. I just…I need to figure out how to put it all together.”

    “When is the deadline?”

    Rellon groaned, hanging his head. “In three days. I need to get it done before the next club meet. I’m going to be a laughingstock at this rate.”

    “I don’t know,” Royle said thoughtfully. “Using magic with medicine sounds like a good idea.”

    “Right?” Rellon perked up, eyes sparked with passion and excitement. “Maybe someday, we can get witches to take medical classes and use their magic to heal. We might even be able to cure diseases like Jania! The possibilities are endless! Potions, magic fruit, enchanted water! We need to know more about witchcraft if we want to push medical techniques forward! There must something about their magic that helps them heal so fast. If we can transfer those properties to an ordinary body—it’d be a medical revolution! But…”

    Rellon sighed once more, his excitement deflating with his shoulders. “They’re not going to accept that. Because if I get it out there that witches will be able to heal incurable diseases, doctors all over Plathea will run out of business. And, who wants to rely on a witch with no medical knowledge to heal them, right?” He rubbed his eyes in defeat. “I need to figure out how to write it, so it won’t sound so outrageous.”

    Royle patted Rellon’s shoulder. “You’ll think of something, son. You have a good head on your shoulders—better than mine. I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

    He meant everything he said. Even now, as he watched Rellon nod half-heartedly and return to writing, Royle couldn’t wrap his head around how the young man sitting before him was his son. That Royle had created this life with Misa, and his child was trying to push the limits of medical knowledge. Pride warmed his heart.

    Deciding to leave Rellon to work, Royle slipped back outside and approached the door across the hall. No light was cast from under the door, so it was likely Senya was asleep. Royle pushed open the door and peeked inside. As he suspected, Senya was in bed. Satisfied, Royle began to shut the door. But then a cool breeze stopped him. He frowned. A breeze?

    Royle surveyed the room and saw the window slightly open. Something about it nagged at him, so he slipped inside. He intended to close it, if only to keep the night chill from his daughter, but there was something else. It was only when he passed Senya’s bed that he realized why. Because now that he was closer, he could see that the lump under the blankets didn’t look human at all. Royle pressed his hand on it to confirm.

    Pillows.

    “s**t,” he breathed, his temper flaring. He stormed over to the window and opened it all the way. The Bentham apartment was a few floors up, so Senya had always used the old-fashioned, tiptoe-out-the-front-door method to sneak out of the house. Now, it seemed, she had upgraded to climbing out her window and using the uneven surface of the brick wall to find purchase.

    It wasn’t as if Royle kept her trapped inside the house the way Maran did to Misa. It was a simple curfew. One simple rule that she couldn’t go out past a certain time, and Senya still thought that wasn’t enough freedom.

    Royle clenched his jaw. Oh, she was in trouble. Big trouble. All he had to do was wait for her to return and catch her in the act. Then, he would deal with her. Reining in his anger, Royle pulled out Senya’s chair and plopped down on it, crossing his legs. The only thing he could do now was wait and figure out what the hell he was going to say when she returned.