<< FON CARLSON >>

Like the little boy, Fon materializes a couple of rock slabs and throws them directly at him.

"Copying my magick... You got no imagination, don't you?" the little boy remarks.

Fon smirks. "I am only doing that so if I win, you won't blame it on the advantage between our techniques."

"Ah! Do you mean that you still don't have any technique you can call your own? You just copy from others, blast your magick, and that's it... You win," he says while evading the rocks she hurls at him.

"So now it's my fault that I am born with a huge amount of magick?" she asks. She puts up a barrier when she notices a rock coming from her side. "Or maybe you are just too unlucky to have an insignificant amount of it?"

"Insignificant? Ha! Is that how you describe my magick? When your slaves are cowering from me?"

"Fine, you have enough magick to tickle me."

The corner of the little boy's lip turns up. "Your magick is a marvel, Fon. But to whom... that is still the question."

Then a single rock escapes her notice and hits her on the back causing her to fall from her broom. She winces as she tries to get up. "It's annoying whenever I hear my name from your mouth."

The little boy shrugs his shoulders before saying, "To be fair with you, my name is Kaine."

"I didn't ask you!" she retorts. He puts up another cage. This time, he is much faster. She tries to escape, but a vine catches her feet. She groans, "Who got no imagination now?!"

Fon is about to be enclosed inside when she sees the grinning little boy's body cut in half horizontally. Behind him is Hector, holding two swords in his hands.

When the body hits the ground, it turns into a mist with the wind carrying it. Also, the surrounding rock disintegrates, and Hector moves toward her.

"A clone," he mutters while scrutinizing her. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she replies. "Seems like he really doesn't want to hurt me."

"Faster! We must leave this place!" Lector shouts at them while he is standing close to the carriage.

Fon and Hector run toward him, and the only time the four feel relieved is when they can not see a patch of land anymore.

******************

The Watchtower of the East is an imposing structure that towers over the surrounding landscape. It is a vast, ivy-covered stone edifice with a steep, pointed roof and four massive arches. Windows dot its walls, providing an excellent vantage point to watch the surrounding area.

"That's where the Wizard of the North is?" Fon asks as they descend into the rocky shore.

Since they encountered Kaine, they've become quiet and restless. No one even bothers to start a conversation.

"Not yet. That's only a watchtower in the East, which also serves as a border. Behind that, the Wizard of the North's jurisdiction will start."

"One of the East Watchers guard that watchtower," Madame Rose interjects as she peers below their carriage. "His name is Remington."

"Another lame wizard," Fon responds mindlessly, which earns her the glares from the surrounding people.

The watchtower below them is blindingly light and it is so tall that they can see its tip even before they can make out the shape of huge rocks that riddle the ground of the island.

They pass through the watchtower's barrier, and inside, Fon sees the fierce waves that sway against the shore. From the top, she can hear the wind whistling through the trees. The other noises from wildlife also rises. However, what's interesting is the distant rumble of thunder, that echoes off in the distance.

"You can hear that? What is it?" Fon asks when the carriage touches solid ground.

"We are close to the stormy area of the North, so hearing those is common."

Fon looks around. Even if the aberrants can sense the watchtower behind its barrier and glamour, no one would be crazy enough to fight the natural waves that threaten to destroy anything that will ride it.

"That's some decent glamour he has there," she comments while they approach the watchtower.

"Remington is one of the best watchers in the East," Hector says proudly.

"He also belongs to one of the noble clans of the West," Lector adds.

"Why? Are you two related to him or something?" she asks, curious about the swell of pride from the two.

"We are his apprentices," Hector announces.

"Ha!" she snorts. "That explains the glares."

"He told us we are the most unique twins he ever trained as wizards."

"The most unique? You believed that?"

"He also gives us our names, Hector and Lector."

"Like some pets you are," she adds.

"We have a different specialty in fighting, though."

"Hector's are weapons," Lector adds. "Mine is hand-to-hand combat."

"It does not surprise you that we are twins?" Hector queries.

"Why would I? You sound alike," she answers, taking a better look at the two.

Hector is dark-skinned with long brown hair tied at the back. His jaw is set and he has eyes the color of almond. On the other hand, Lector has very short dirty blond hair, green eyes, and a light complexion. The only thing they are similar to is their height. They stand on seven feet and have muscles at significant places hidden under their black robes.

Passing through the thick walls with its entrance topped with a large iron portcullis, three witches greet them.

"Welcome to the Watchtower, Madame Rose." the oldest witch says. She waves her hands, and the baggage—owned by Madame Rose—floats inside the tower.

"Sir Remington ordered us to allow you to rest after a grueling travel," the old witch says as she looks at Fon.

Instead of a polite reply, Fon says, "It is only grueling because we travel in a carriage instead of brooms."

She realizes her mistake as soon as she notices how Madame Rose glares at her.

"Sir Remington is out of the tower because of an emergency, but he will be at dinner tonight," the old witch says, ignoring her tone.

They enter the tower, and Fon can't help but notice the marvelous paintings that adorn the tower walls. Most are portraits of different witches and wizards who are probably previous Watchers.

"This is where you will stay for the meantime," the old witch says as she opens a big oak door.

It opens into a spacious room with all the necessities. They paint the walls in warm hues, and a cozy fireplace is in the corner. It has an inviting atmosphere that brings Fon peace and calm—which is strange, especially for her.

"The adjoining room will be for Madame Rose and the guard wizards, as requested."

"Thank you," Madame Rose remarks as she examines her room.

"If there is something else you need, you can call for me," the old witch says. "By the way, my name is Adere."

The old witch named Adere retreats from the hall, leaving the four of them. And so, Fon moves towards the bed and inhales the faint smell of sandalwood and sweet incense. Even if she can't pinpoint where the hint of lavender and freshly cut grass is coming from—all she wants to do is to sleep amidst Madame Rose's complaints.