Feyla had never used a scrying mirror before.

Of course, the fact that they cost enough to make expensive scrying orbs look like cheap trinkets probably had something to do with it.

Sedgewick had left early that morning without even trying to say goodbye. Part of her was glad that he had spared her having to avoid him, but another part was hurt that he hadn't at least tried.

More proof that he never cared, she thought bitterly as she jerked back the cloth covering the mirror.

Her decision to quit was still firm. There was no way she was working for that man after what happened. Unfortunately, as much as she wished she could stay in Kingsford and never show her face in the capital again, she still had her things to pack and her friends to say goodbye to. Returning to the capital was inescapable, but she could certainly avoid the Ministry.

Thankfully, she had just the friend who could help her do that.

Feyla scooted the small bench seat closer to the mirror and waved her hand across the surface. Her reflection faded as it rippled like water on a pond.

Like scrying orbs, scrying mirrors could only connect to one place. In this one's case, it was the palace.

Its surface continued to ripple as slowly a figure came into view.

"Miss Everbloom."

"Your Majesty."

The queen and the former healer stared at each other before both broke out into grins. Formality was a bit pointless when you'd known each other for as long as they had.

"How is everyone?" Feyla asked, eager for a distraction before she got down to business.

"We are well. Roy and I are going to try to slip away this evening, provided no meetings are rescheduled. But I'm afraid you'll have to tell Sedgewick that Faren and Glemdring had the rune disc that he made for them taken away." Eleyna arched an eyebrow. "They used it in an elaborate plot to scare a cook out of the kitchen long enough to swipe an entire bowl of honey glazed nuts."

Feyla broke out into a laugh and was surprised how good it felt. "And who was the mastermind behind that?"

"Faren led it, but I'm fairly certain Glemdring suggested it," Eleyna replied, no longer hiding her small smile.

Feyla signed and wiped her eyes, her smile fading slightly as the differences between her life and Eleyna's became even more evident. It was difficult to not feel jealous of her friend at that moment. Eleyna was confident in her position, bonded to a man who adored her, and mother to two beautiful children. Meanwhile, she was disgraced in the career she'd longed for since childhood, single without so much as a pet to her name, and had just been painfully rejected by the man she'd been in love with for decades.

It wasn't a fair comparison. After all, Feyla had been there over a century ago when Eleyna's Pure Magic Flowyr abilities had nearly cost her the throne. Not to mention when her budding romance with her husband had been pushed aside in favor of pushing her and Beryn at each other. And although Eleyna adored her children, Feyla knew she struggled with guilt over whether her busy work would make them feel as rejected and neglected as her father had made her feel.

No, it wasn't a fair comparison. Eleyna had fought tooth and nail to secure the life she had now.  Meanwhile, she'd been hanging onto the mixed signals of a man who would never love her.

Although fighting about my feelings didn't exactly do any good, she thought bitterly.

"Not that I'm displeased to see you, but why are you contacting me this way?" Eleyna's brow crinkled. "Is something wrong?"

Feyla bit her lip as she pondered how to answer. "Well you see, Sedgewick and I were fighting about...something and I--I quit."

Eleyna raised an eyebrow, her expression blank. "Pardon?"

"I quit."

She leaned back in her chair as surprise briefly flickering across her face. "That's...unexpected. What are you intending to do now?"

"Beryn offered me a job. I was hoping that you could have someone pack up my desk for me. I don't really want to go back to the Ministry."

Eleyna nodded. Feyla could tell she wanted to know more but it wasn't in her nature to pry.

"That shouldn't be a problem. When can I expect you both back?"

"Well, I'm leaving tomorrow. Sedgewick's too busy off hunting some sorceress from the Northlands," she grumbled.

"...Come again?" asked Eleyna, her voice turning dangerously quiet.

Feyla's eyes widened as she realized what she said. The mirror rippled, most likely picking up a burst of magic from Eleyna. The queen's eyes filled with an eery brightness as she leaned closer to the mirror.

"S--Sedgewick's hunting a sorceress," Feyla choked out as her friend shifted into her queen.

"What sorceress?"

Feyla blinked, combing through her mind for the name. What was it? Balara? Bellara?

Bilara, she remembered.

"It was someone named Bilara."

Eleyna let loose several words that she had probably learned from Sedgewick in her youth. "Hellgates take that man! Why didn't he tell me?"

A cold tremor began crawling its way into Feyla's chest. "What's so bad about her? Sedgewick's fought lots of wizards and sorceresses before."

Eleyna collected herself from her momentary outburst and schooled her features back into a semi-neutral express.  "Bilara's not just a sorceress, she's the sorceress. She was trained by a wizard even the former Archmage feared, and then she killed him. The Northlands don't even bother trying to arrest her anymore because everyone they send winds up dead or her spell-struck puppet. She's dangerous, borderline psychotic, and what's more, she enjoys being that way."

The cold fear tightened around Feyla, causing her irritation to spike. "I've worked at the Magic Ministry for years! Why haven't I ever heard of her?"

"You're always around Sedgewick."

"So?"

Eleyna rolled her eyes. "Any mage with half a brain knows better than to speak of Bilara around Sedgewick."

"Why?" Feyla asked through gritted teeth.

Eleyna scowled as she leaned closer to the mirror and gripped its sides. "You know that scar on his back? The one that causes him problems? She gave it to him. On the night she nearly killed him."

Feyla's hands were shaking. She clenched them together but they wouldn't stop. Dozens of echoes of Sedgewick's 'Trust me' and 'I can handle this' rang in her head as the blood rushed from her face. She gripped the table below the mirror to keep herself from fainting while spots danced in front of her eyes.

That idiot! The woman nearly killed him when he was at full strength and he planned to confront her while he was suffering from that curse?

"--what he's doing. Feyla, are you all right?"

"I'm not feeling well," she whispered. Her fear mixed with her anger as visions of his dead body danced in front of her eyes. Rejection or no rejection, she couldn't--wouldn't let that happen.

Eleyna nodded and sighed tiredly. "I see. I wouldn't be too worried. Don't misunderstand me, it is very irritating but Master Sedgewick usually has a method to his madness. Perhaps this sorceress is planning something we're unaware of. If he gets himself hurt or causes any sort of issue with the Northlands, though, I'm going to beat him so hard he'll have to retire."

Not if I get him first, thought Feyla, a plan already forming in her mind.

One of the disadvantages of drinking away your problems is waking up and having a splitting headache on top of them.

Sedgewick pushed up his glasses and rubbed his temple as his head attempted to crack in two. He was standing in his cramped quarters on a ship headed towards the Northlands. Bottles were strewn across the floor, which was sticky from spilled liquor, and a blanket was twisted up in the corner he'd slept in to avoid being eaten alive by the bedbug empire that resided in the small bed.

A meow sounded beside him, and a hazy memory of letting the ship's cat in his room and pouring out his troubles to the creature returned.

"Who need s'women anyways," he'd grumbled to the cat. "All they do 's get ya all bloody knotted up. It 'snot like I wanted to hug her an' kiss her till she forgot about that stupid little...something...anyways. Bloody women. Harder to crack thanna First Age spell..."

Something clicked inside his pounding head. It immediately began clawing against the hazy grip of his mind, desperate to break free. First Age? Spell? No, not spell. Curse.

Sedgewick lowered himself back onto the dirty floor of his cramped room.  He reached forward and grabbed the cat, relaxing at the familiarity.

He was cursed. And it wasn't even an expression this time. But no matter. He'd break it. He was good at magic, good at breaking curses. Magic made sense. Women didn't make sense. First Age women probably hadn't made sense either, just like First Age curses...

Wait.

That was it! The complexity level, the design, the speed it was taking effect, the fact that all his attempts to break it only seemed to make it harder to crack. A First Age curse was the only explanation!

Sedgewick jumped to his feet, smiling for the first time in days. Bilara must have gotten her hands on a First Age curse!

The full realization of that statement hit him, driving out any excitement.

Bilara had a First Age curse.

"Gates," he whispered, clutching the cat to his chest.