The walk back to the house was quieter than Zara expected. Dayana, despite her usual air of amusement, did not push conversation, content to let the evening air settle between them. The rhythmic clicking of their sandals against the stone pathway was the only consistent sound, punctuated by the occasional murmur of city life beyond the temple grounds.
Zara stole glances at Dayana as they walked. Despite her initial distrust, she couldn’t help but feel drawn to the woman’s graceful poise. There was something commanding about her, something that demanded attention without words. It was the same presence Revan had, but where his was rigid and brooding, Dayana’s was fluid and enchanting.
Saren, on the other hand, remained stiff beside Zara, her fingers twitching slightly near her amulet, as if bracing for an unseen danger. Zara couldn’t blame her. Dayana’s presence had been nothing but one big question mark since the moment she first appeared, and now, invited into their home without warning, it felt like an unspoken challenge.
As they neared the house, Zara finally broke the silence. “You don’t look worried,” she remarked, glancing at Dayana.
Dayana’s lips curled at the edges. “Should I be?”
“You are to walk into a house full of people who don’t trust you,” Saren pointed out, her voice tight. “That does not concern you in the slightest?”
Dayana chuckled softly. “Oh, my dear, trust is not given freely. It is earned.” She glanced at Zara then, eyes gleaming under the fading sunlight. “I have no intention of causing trouble—unless, of course, you insist on making me into one.”
Zara felt an involuntary chill, but she masked it with a forced scoff. “No one has to insist anything. You’re a mystery wrapped in a thousand layers of secrecy. You cannot expect us to be at ease when you show up unannounced.”
“On the contrary,” Dayana said smoothly, “I expect you to be exactly as you are. Cautious. Uncertain. But curious, nonetheless.”
Saren scowled but said nothing. Zara exhaled, shaking her head. “You speak like Revan.”
Dayana’s smirk deepened. “I did teach him, after all.”
They arrived at the house just as the lanterns inside flickered to life. Through the windows, Zara spotted Revan standing near the central table, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He had been expecting them. Or rather, expecting her.
She saw no sign of Emran anywhere, though. Perhaps he was out, on his usual business of seeking a good high—especially if it was paired with an equally “good” whore. A bit disheartening, but it was probably for the best. For now.
Dayana’s arrival was met with a quiet tension. Revan’s gaze flicked to Zara first, then to Saren, as if assessing their unease. Then, finally, he met Dayana’s gaze.
“You came.”
Dayana removed her drape, setting it over a chair with the care of someone who had all the time in the world. “Of course I did,” she said lightly. “You invited me, after all.”
Revan exhaled slowly, his expression betraying little, but Zara could see the rigidness in his shoulders. His old master she may have been, but even he was not fully comfortable either. Especially not with Zara and Saren in the same space as them, that was for certain.
“I assume you’ve already tested the waters with them,” Revan muttered, glancing between the two women.
“Oh, just a little,” Dayana admitted. “They are delightful, truly.”
Revan didn’t look convinced. “Alright. Let’s get to the point, then.”
Dayana leaned back slightly, her golden eyes shining with interest. “Very well, let’s. Your plan is sound, though will be tough to carry out, even with the gracious help of these young girls.”
The term “gracious” had Zara tense up, instinctually. Dayana had said it in such a way that it seemed nothing more than a jest. What could she have meant by that? Zara knew of no plan. And certainly nothing of her and Saren’s involvement in it. She looked at Saren with a puzzled frown, only to see the expression mirrored back at her. Clearly, Saren was having trouble discerning what this was about. Dayana and Revan had her power of intuition blocked, and it frustrated her.
“But first, tell me, my dear Revan—how much do you truly know about what’s coming?”
Zara and Saren exchanged glances once again. That was not the question they had been expecting.
Revan’s jaw tightened. “What do you mean?”
Dayana’s expression darkened slightly, and for the first time, Zara sensed something else beneath her amused veneer—something weighty.
“The storm,” Dayana said quietly. “The shift in power. The inevitable change that neither of you are ready for.”
The room felt suddenly colder. Zara swallowed. “What are you talking about?”
Dayana’s gaze locked onto hers. “I am talking about the reason I’m here. The reason I sought you out, Zara. And the reason Revan has been keeping secrets from you.”
Zara’s stomach clenched. She turned sharply to Revan. “Revan, what is this? Is it true?”
Revan’s silence was answer enough. Of course. The Sorcerer had his secrets, that was no shocking matter. Since the night he met Zara, he had always kept those secrets close to his heart. Pry as she might, it had been no use. He would never open up to Zara. Not willingly anyway.
Dayana smiled faintly. “Oh, dear. It seems we have much to discuss after all.”
Revan watched as Dayana stepped inside, her presence intimidating and eerie. He’d met her once in private, on that island where Reena’s lonesome statue stood rotting, unworshiped for centuries. Since then, they’d set up this next meeting, so he had known she would come, had even anticipated it, but that did not mean he fully welcomed it. It was one thing to meet alone. It was another to expose the likes of his former Mistress to his apprentice and the special friend they shared.
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Revan had his secrets from Zara for his own reasons—one being she was not ready to hear them yet. Dayana also had a habit of keeping secrets. Revan did not understand why she had such a strong interest in the girls. It was going beyond a simple admiration of powers so rare in their world.
He exhaled slowly, keeping his posture neutral, leading the entourage into the den. Tea, coffee, and an assortment of snacks waited on the table. They sat on the soft velvet cushions of the sofas—Dayana took up one whole sofa all to herself while her former pupil and the younger women sat in the sofas and chairs across from her. It wasn’t long before Dayana pushed the conversation forward. Revan was glad he encouraged a certain houseguest who had overstayed his welcome to get his usual night of debauchary started early today.
The older Sorceress tilted her head slightly, as if studying him. Then she turned her golden gaze to Zara. “I have questions,” she said. “And I believe it’s time for answers.”
Zara stiffened. “Answers?”
Dayana’s expression darkened slightly. “Your power,” she said simply. “The night you made Rubi’s brother disappear. Do you truly understand what you did?”
The air thickened. Red-faced, Zara’s hands clenched into fists. “I didn’t mean to—”
“But you did,” Dayana interrupted. “The power within you is not something that acts on accident. It responds to intention, whether conscious or not.”
Revan sighed quietly. He had been dreading this moment. Zara believed she’d had some control that night, but the truth was, she hadn’t. Not entirely. What had overcome her, he discovered through more research, had been something evil. While a man like Revan did not mind a bit of evil, he needed Zara to be more aware of what she was doing with the power, lest that evil take over entirely. She was quite the powerful witch, he admitted. The more he taught her, the more excited he became—for her and himself. But she was also a challenge to teach, and the mild progress, as exciting as it was, could be frustrating. Her temper did not help matters.
He had done everything in his power to keep Zara from questioning that night too deeply, for their safety and to aid in Zara’s mental advancement, but Dayana had no such reservations.
“And then, at the theater fire where we met briefly again,” she continued, “you were faced with a choice. One life or another. Tell me, Zara, if you had been given a moment longer—if fate had not chosen for you—what decision would you have made?”
Zara’s breath hitched. Saren sat very still beside Revan, like she was a loose pebble away from starting an avalanche.
“That’s enough,” Revan said sharply.
Dayana turned to him. “Is it?” she mused. “Or are you simply afraid of what she might say?”
“Zara is my apprentice. She does not need to answer to you.”
Dayana smirked. “Perhaps not. But she will need to answer to herself eventually.”
Silence stretched between them until Saren finally cleared her throat. “Speaking of answers,” she said, forcing a change of subject, “has there been any word on Rubi?”
Revan exhaled, grateful for the shift in conversation. “My Mirror shows she’s stable,” he said. “Still recovering, but she’ll live.”
Saren nodded, though her shoulders remained taut. “And no sign of…her brother?”
A beat of silence. Then, quietly, Revan said, “No.”
Dayana’s expression was unreadable. “Interesting,” she murmured. “Very interesting.”
Revan’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know?”
Dayana chuckled, shaking her head. “More than you. And yet, not enough. But I wonder… what would you have done, Revan, if you had been in Zara’s place?”
Revan shook his head. “That question is irrelevant.”
“Is it?” Dayana tilted her head. “Or is it the very heart of what we are discussing?”
Zara clenched her fists. “Enough riddles. If you know something, please say it. To this day, I don’t even know where I sent that man!”
Dayana’s gaze lingered on Zara for a long moment before she sighed, shaking her head. “Well, I might have a theory of where he could be. Though I would like to confirm it before I speak. We wouldn’t want to work with false predictions now, do we?”
Revan’s eyes didn’t leave her as she looked expectantly at him. He knew that look, the silent demand for a private conversation. He glanced at Zara and Saren, who exchanged uncertain glances before focusing back on him. They would not be pleased to be excluded, but there were matters that only he and Dayana could discuss.
“Zara, Saren,” he said, his tone leaving no room for debate, “give us a moment.”
“I expected nothing less,” Zara spoke sarcastically, but obeyed and rose from her seat. Saren hesitated before rising as well, her amulet pulsing dimly. Without another word, they left the den, though Zara cast one last suspicious glance over her shoulder before disappearing into the hallway.
Once the door shut behind them, Dayana chuckled, pouring them each some coffee. “You were always a cautious one, weren’t you dear?”
“That I was, and still am,” he muttered. “For good reason. What were you thinking? Bringing that man up? I cannot have Zara spiraling again.”
Dayana settled back onto the sofa, regarding him carefully. “Oh honey, she is bound to spiral again eventually.”
Revan stiffened. “That’s a bold assumption.”
“It’s the truth.”
A cold tingle raced up his spine. “And you know this for sure?”
“I am a Sorceress of Time, as you very well know,” she said, waving a hand. “I know many things, of many different histories. You’ve been gathering knowledge on time manipulation for years with me. And especially ever since—well, since you lost her.” Her hazel eyes gleamed sickeningly. Revan swallowed bile, setting his now tasteless coffee back on the table. “But history is not so easily bent to one’s will.”
“I know the risks.”
Dayana scoffed. “No, you don’t. You see what you wish to see. You think this is about control, but time does not work like that. If you alter one moment the wrong way, you risk unraveling everything. And we must not forget about the princess I have in my care. A talented one she is, like her mother.”
Revan’s expression darkened. “What does Princess Yana have to do with this, exactly? You weren’t clear with that, the last time we spoke.”
Dayana leaned forward. “Her fate is tied to the past you wish to change. If you truly go through with this, you may save one person. You may change the world to our benefit. In a way only you see fit. But you may also lose others in ways you cannot predict.”
Revan couldn’t help but smile. What a ridiculous lecture this was. “Others? What others? I do not have anyone. I do not care about anyone. I have not for ages.”
“I came here to warn you,” she said, her voice taking on a rare softness. “I understand what you desire, Revan. Believe me, I want it too. But you must be extremely careful. Even a Sorceress such as myself could not fulfill such a heavy desire. Not entirely anyway.”
Revan squinted. “Entirely?”
Dayana lifted the cup to her curled lips. “Small in number as we are, we still exist, do we not?”
Revan remained silent. He had spent years searching for answers, pushing boundaries, chasing a future that could undo the past. But Dayana’s words lingered in his mind, planting seeds of doubt about whether the task could really be accomplished.
It had to. Otherwise, his work would have been for nothing.
Finally, he muttered, “If you have a theory about Rubi’s brother, then tell me. I’m curious.”
Dayana nodded. “Very well. I’ll tell you, though I will continue to do my research. But when the time comes, Revan, I only hope you and I are prepared for the consequences. Because there may be many.”
She stood, carefully setting her cup down. She made her way over to Revan’s side and sat in the cushion beside him, taking his hands in hers.
These hands he’d held so many times over many long years, and they only showed a slight sign of age. Barely there to an untrained eye, but Revan had seen enough of Dayana to know the difference.
“Be careful, old friend,” she said. “Time has a way of punishing those who think they can outmaneuver it.”
Revan said nothing, but his thoughts weighed heavier than ever.
