No one from the Ironteeth clans knew how or why it'd happened, but magic was back - they all felt their aging processes slowing down until they almost stopped and, more importantly, they could fly again, without depending on a wyvern - the Bluebloods went back to their rituals, finally able to use magic in them again. Most witches had abandoned their mounts and used their ironwood brooms once again, but Manon wasn't, and neither were any of her Thirteen - wyverns were weapons as well as mounts, or that was what Manon had said to her coven. They'd stick with their mounts, at least until the Blackbeak heir found out if all the wyverns were the same as Abraxos, or if he was a special case.

When she'd found out about Abraxos she'd just heard the news of the king being dead, and thought that - between the tyrant's death and the return of magic to the world - nothing could surprise her anymore, but then Abraxos wasn't where he'd been merely a second ago. Instead, a tall, tan man with Abraxos's green eyes stared back at her; her heart almost stopped - or it would have, if she had one. They hadn't spoken, just stared at each other for minutes until the distant cry of joy of a rider, alongside with a roar of her wyvern, made Manon look away - when she looked again, Abraxos was back to being a wyvern.

From that moment on, Manon kept the Thirteen flying low as 'a way to improve their stealth', low enough she wouldn't be killed if Abraxos transformed mid-air, but he didn't transform at all, and she wondered if the sudden return of magic had caused her mind to play a trick on her. The three clans had left the White Fang and Ruhnn Mountains and gone back to the Witch Kingdom, and Manon had taken special delight in killing the girl with the wine-red hair who had dared call herself High Queen of the Wastelands - that stupid child should have known those 'Wastelands' were part of their kingdom, and that witches didn't share with humans.

She'd taken the Witch Kingdom back as the Wing Leader, and yet, the doubt of what Abraxos really was kept her awake at night. She'd picked up the habit of taking long walks alone when she couldn't sleep; it was during one of those walks that she saw him again.

"So I wasn't going crazy after all" human Abraxos turned to look at her, he'd been standing up and staring at nothing "you're a human."

He looked uneasy and, when he spoke, his voice was low, dark and menacing like a growl, although he didn't look like he was angry "Not really, not anymore. But yes, I was one. I don't know what I am anymore."

"Are all wyverns like you?" He shook his head "What's your name?"

"You named me, you should know; it's Abraxos."

"Not that one" Manon snapped, iron teeth gleaming in the moonlight "not the one I gave you, your name."

His voice didn't change one bit, but his eyes were now sad "Nobody bothered to give me a name before you."

Something about that sentence struck the heart she knew she shouldn't have; how could someone - anyone - go on without a name, without anything that told them from an animal, or a tree, or a rock?

Despite herself, Manon felt her heart warming and, ignoring both the puzzled look Abraxos gave her and her own confusion, she put a hand on his shoulder and pulled herself up to kiss his cheek "Well" she said softly "you do have a name now - and an important one at that, so I expect you to live up you it. I am the Blackbeak heir, and I won't tolerate failure."

The green-eyed smiled, the iron teeth she'd given him pointier tan his real teeth and giving him an almost feral look.

Maybe she did have a heart, Manon thought, and maybe it was time to use it.