ORAYON

Try as he might, Orayon couldn't forget the absolute look of wanting on Ondina's face. The way her long lashes fluttered and her breath hitched when he touched her. Orayon's heart swelled with joy. He would recognize that look anywhere. With her fever raging, she gazed at him as if he were her everything. Orayon knew she was hatching; the relink cycle was over, and her powers were manifesting.

Hatching occurred at the manifestation of your powers. It was simple, really. When your powers began to manifest, they needed a lifeline, a thread to hang onto. The person you hatched on would be that thread for a week or two. Hatching occurred randomly. When the thread snapped, the person you were with became your hook.

Orayon briefly remembered his sister, Ombra, running to him with tears in her eyes because she had hatched on a boy she loathed with her entire being. Those two weeks had been hell for her as she couldn't help but give him swoony eyes and seductive smiles. Orayon had kept a steady watch over them because the hatching process could be dangerous for one's sanity and feelings. Now she was gone—dead like the rest of his family. With Ondina's cycle ending, they'd finally break that forsaken barrier, and he would kill the witch who had hurt him and his family.

As Orayon walked toward the Royal Library, he felt a mix of urgency and determination. Though he had a fair idea of how hatching worked with Raelians, he wanted to know more about how it worked with witches. Did the relink cycle affect each hatching stage for them? There was so little they knew about their greatest foe. He spotted a secluded section of the library containing scrolls and books written by scholars, as well as Ondina herself.

He searched through the shelves and picked five books he thought would be useful. Ondina's diary was the first he opened. He had read it a million times, and the familiar scent of pine filled his nose. He loved how she expressed her feelings, her delicate strokes of the pen drawing him into her world. He read about how she had been treated unfairly by her older sister, Queen Riya, and her journey through a series of relinkings that almost led to her death, up to the point where she ran away and joined forces with them. As always, the rest of the pages were torn, leaving a chasm of unanswered questions.

He checked the scrolls by scholars, but they all seemed to present answers cobbled together by speculation rather than concrete knowledge.

Rubbing his temples, Orayon tried to push aside his concerns. He should be afraid of being Ondina's hook; he had never been a hook before. Though he dreaded the thought of being ogled by her for more than a second, he couldn't deny the thrill of being connected to one of the most powerful mages.

The sound of footsteps broke his reverie. "I knew I'd find you here," Laudian said, inching closer to where Orayon sat. Laudian glanced at Ondina's diary, his eyebrows raised, and Orayon felt as though he'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.

"Do you need me for something?" Orayon asked, trying to sound casual.

Laudian chuckled at his dismissal. "The king summons us."

Orayon's jaw ticked at the thought. He still remembered how the king had been useless regarding their attacks. He knew the witches were planning a strike, yet the king did nothing. An incompetent fool, he thought. No wonder the staff rejected him; it would rather have no one inherit its powers than let this inept sole heir take command.

Neatly folding the books and scrolls back onto the shelf, Orayon nodded for Laudian to lead the way.
He glanced sideways at Laudian, who wore an expression of mild annoyance. "What do you think he wants?" Orayon asked, breaking the silence.

"Probably to discuss strategies he hasn't bothered to consider until now," Laudian replied, his tone dry. "Or maybe he's found another excuse to blame us for his failures."

Orayon grunted in agreement, tension coursing through him. The king's shortsightedness was infuriating, but they had to play the part. They couldn't afford to show any weakness, not now, not with the witches gathering strength.

Finally, they reached the grand door to the king's chamber. Orayon stepped into the throne room, Laudian by his side, but his eyes were immediately drawn to the king, lounging carelessly in his chair, one leg slung over the armrest, a goblet of wine dangling loosely from his fingers. His head was tipped back, and he looked utterly bored—like this whole war and their meeting were just another trivial matter to him.

Orayon's jaw clenched, but he held his tongue. His gaze shifted to Dahera, who stood a few feet from the throne, arms crossed, her expression impassive. She was keeping her distance from Ondina, though.

Ondina.

His breath caught in his throat when his eyes landed on her. She looked worse than he'd expected—her lips pressed into a tight, square line, her skin so pale it seemed as though all color had drained from her. She swayed slightly, like she could barely stay on her feet. Orayon felt his stomach twist.

Before he could react, Laudian rushed forward, hand outstretched to steady her.

"Don't touch her," the king's voice rang out sharply.

Laudian froze in his tracks. Orayon's eyes darted back to the king, his grip tightening into a fist.

"But she's hurting," Orayon growled, trying to keep his voice steady. "She's not a thing. If you don't—"

"Of course she's hurting," the king interrupted smoothly, sitting up straighter now, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But I don't care. And neither should you. She'll survive."

Orayon clenched his teeth, barely suppressing the urge to snap back, but he wasn't reckless. Not yet.

"Just leave her alone," the king continued, waving his hand dismissively. "If anyone dares to move another inch toward her, I'll cut them down myself."

The room fell into tense silence. Orayon and Laudian exchanged a glance before stepping back. Even Dahera remained perfectly still, watching everything unfold.

The king's lazy smirk returned as he swirled the wine in his goblet. "Now, let's get to the point of this meeting. We have important matters to discuss."

Orayon didn't see why Ondina should be included in the meeting, but he said nothing. The king was erratic, his moods intense, and if he swore to cut them down, he might actually do it.

King Sevrin straightened in his chair, setting aside his goblet. "There have been rumors circulating between the borders about the witches and their new plans. Dasha, what have you learned?"

Dahera's eyes flickered to Orayon before she answered. "Nothing we don't already know, sir."

"Orayon, what are your scouts reporting from the east?"

Orayon's tone was clipped. "They're closing in on the eastern flank. I've already sent extra reinforcements, but we need more resources if they decide to launch a full-scale attack."

The king sighed dramatically. "Of course, we're stretched thin. Typical." He glanced toward Laudian, who was still standing near Ondina, tension lining his face. "And Laudian, what about the western front?"

Laudian's voice was steady. "The witches haven't made a move there, but there are whispers they're planning to strike where we least expect it."

The king paused, absorbing their reports. His expression turned calculating as he leaned back into his seat. "Very well. So from what I'm hearing, you're all useless fools."

A sneer fought its way to Orayon's face. They were useless? The king did nothing but drink all day!

The king lifted his chin slightly, shifting his gaze toward Ondina. "Ondina has began the hatching stage. Since you're all useless against the witches, it's time to assign positions and responsibilities to see the only hope for us through it."

Orayon stilled, wondering how the king knew she was hatching. But he remembered the king had foresight. Everyone else looked shocked, but Ondina appeared tired and confused. She let out a small whimper, which caused Dahera to inch slightly toward her—though not fully, because of the king's order to stay away.

"She'll start training today," Orayon heard the king say.

Orayon's eyes shot toward Ondina again, concern flickering briefly across his face. She didn't look like she was in any condition to train, let alone fight. But the king continued.

"Laudian," the king began, "you'll work with Ondina to refine her swordsmanship. She'll need to learn how to wield a blade better than before if she's to survive the coming days."

Laudian nodded curtly, though his eyes remained fixed on Ondina.

"And Orayon," the king added with a smirk, "you'll assist with her overall training, make sure she's fit for battle. You're her hook, so it's only fair you spend most of the time with her."

Stupid foresight.

"What?" Dahera nearly yelled, the disbelief clear in her voice.

Laudian frowned at Orayon, probably wondering why he hadn't said anything to him about the hatching or being Ondina's hook.

Orayon barely held back a grimace, trying not to acknowledge the rest of them, but he nodded nonetheless.

"Lastly, Dasha," the king turned to her, "you'll help her master her powers."

Dahera gave a single nod, her face neutral, though Orayon could sense the flicker of annoyance. He could tell she couldn't wait for the meeting to be over so she could speak to him.

Just as the king was about to continue his speech, the heavy doors to the chamber swung open, and a girl burst inside, her footsteps echoing through the silent room.

Orayon's eyes narrowed as the girl stepped into the chamber. He couldn't see her face, but her hair—a striking, unnatural pink—immediately caught his attention. It fell in a perfectly straight line down to her waist, swaying with every step she took. Orayon had never seen such a color before, especially in their world, where shades of brown, black, and blond were common.

But that wasn't all. His eyes trailed down to her clothes—or what could barely be considered clothing. She wore the shortest skirt he had ever seen, a skimpy thing that hardly grazed the tops of her thighs. And her midriff—bare, with only a tight, sleeveless top clinging to her upper half.

Orayon swallowed, feeling oddly embarrassed on her behalf. It was as though she were parading around in her undergarments, except... she wasn't. Her outfit—if one could call it that—was made of some foreign fabric that clung tightly to her body, leaving little to the imagination. To someone from their world, it was indecent, strange, even.

She let out a sharp, excited shriek as she dashed across the room, straight to King Sevrin. Orayon's heart lurched when he saw the king's expression shift. The perpetual boredom in his eyes vanished, replaced with something Orayon had never seen before—a smile. A genuine, wide smile.

The king stood, arms open, ready to receive her as she launched herself at him. She began planting kisses on his face, one after the other, while Sevrin laughed. His laughter echoed through the chamber, a sound so out of place that Orayon wondered if they had all entered a different reality.

For the first time in his life, Orayon saw the king's eyes beam with something close to love. There was a lightness to him, an unrestrained joy. Sevrin's entire demeanor changed the instant the girl was in his arms.

Then, right in front of them all, they began to kiss deeply, with such fervor that Orayon felt the awkwardness settle in his chest like a heavy stone. His gaze darted to Laudian, who looked equally uncomfortable, standing rigidly beside Ondina. Dahera's face was unreadable, but Orayon could tell she was ready to bolt from the room if she could.

Orayon shifted his weight, his thoughts racing. Should they leave? Give the king and the girl some privacy? Yet he knew better than to make any sudden moves without the king's dismissal. Sevrin's moods were unpredictable. Leaving without permission could lead to disastrous consequences.

Against his better judgment, Orayon let his gaze drift back to Ondina. Despite her weakened state, she was staring at the girl with something that could only be described as... pride. Ondina's eyes, though tired and strained, gleamed with approval, her pale lips curving ever so slightly into a subtle smile.

Time dragged on as the king and the girl continued, their display feeling endless. The chamber had grown stifling. Finally—mercifully—they broke apart, the girl wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

Getting a better glimpse of her face, Orayon's memory clicked into place. He recognized her as Syrienna, the daughter of the chief of the Water Shivatii . Her brown hair, now pink, made her almost unrecognizable.

As Syrienna scanned the room, her eyes finally landed on Ondina. She turned back to Sevrin with a brief, questioning look, and he responded with a subtle shake of his head, followed by a warm smile. Syrienna nodded, as if understanding something unspoken. Orayon couldn't help but wonder what that exchange meant, but he pushed the thought aside.

Sevrin cleared his throat, bringing everyone's attention back to him. "Alright, everyone, allow me to introduce Syrienna. She has spent the past few years traveling different worlds, and I've brought her here to assist Ondina with some important matters."

Orayon watched as Ondina seemed to glow at the thought, a hint of excitement lighting up her sick features. Syrienna smiled back, her carefree demeanor infectious.

"She'll be instructing Ondina on the history and politics of our world." Sevrin continued, a hint of pride in his voice.

As Syrienna turned to face the rest of the group, her gaze landed on Dahera, and Dahera stiffened, her body rigid as she locked eyes with Syrienna. Syrienna's eyes widened in recognition, and a bright smile crept across her face as she launched herself at Dahera.

"Tasha! I missed you so much!" Syrienna exclaimed with a hint of an accent which irritated Orayon

He remembered that Syrienna and Tahera, who was also known as Tasha, Dahera's twin had been very close before Syrienna's long absence. Since Syrienna had been away for so long, she likely had no idea what had happened to Tasha.

"I'm so glad I saw you first, instead of your bratty little sister, Dasha," Syrienna said, her joy evident.

Dahera awkwardly pulled away from the embrace, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "I am that bratty little sister," she retorted, raising an eyebrow.

"Why are you wearing your hair long like Tasha?" Syrienna questioned, her demeanor shifting as confusion crossed her face. "Where is Tasha? Why are you here instead of her?"

The room fell silent as everyone exchanged worried glances. Sevrin cleared his throat, trying to regain control. "My love, come here," he called to Syrienna, who looked at him, puzzled. She approached him, and he placed a possessive hand on her hips, locking eyes with her.

"Love, you've been gone for a long time," Sevrin said softly, his tone almost tender. "Two years ago, Tasha was kidnapped during a raid. We haven't seen her since. We can't cross the witch barrier, so she's stuck over there while we're here."

Orayon felt a pang of empathy as he watched Syrienna's expression shift from joy to distress. "No, Tasha, where is she?" she whimpered, her voice laced with anguish.

Syrienna turned her glare on Dahera, her frustration bubbling over. "Why are you impersonating your sister? Why do you want to look like her?" Her tone was almost accusatory, hysterical.

Sevrin pulled Syrienna close, hugging her tightly and pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. Orayon had never seen Sevrin show such vulnerability, leaving him questioning whether he was in a dream or had slipped into another universe.

"Go and wait for me in the room," the king instructed her gently. She nodded, wiping away a tear as she left the room.

"The rest of you are dismissed," King Sevrin continued, his eyes narrowing on Dahera. "Please take it easy on her. I know you two have had your differences, but she didn't know."

Orayon glanced at Dahera, who shot a resentful look at the king, clearly displeased with the request.

As everyone turned, Orayon noticed Laudian helping Ondina stand. Just then, King Sevrin called out, "Ondina, I need to have a word with you."

Orayon paused, glancing back at Ondina. She really needed to get some rest, he thought but left regardless. Better not to get on the king's bad side.