30. Sister and Brother

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Rolling Ian's ring between my fingers, I stare at an empty piece of paper on the desk before me, moping.

The new apartments of mine are a replica of Loretto's except for a shelf with countless books and airy curtains on the window and chaos with an unfinished bottle of whiskey in the bedroom. Too bad, I could use a glass.

It's been two hours since I've sat at the desk to write Cale a letter, and I still haven't invented a word. I've been looking for a chance to contact my family since the day I got here, now I have an untraceable, ugly aura ring and shaman power that allows sending notes undetected even easier, and yet, I don't write.

But what can I possibly write?

Hey, Cale, this is your little brother who you've abandoned among the shamans, wondering if you're still planning to rescue me. If you don't, that's okay for I've survived on my own. Only...it took me becoming a shaman myself, so I've decided I'm not helping you to overthrow the empress.

I can explain everything, but you probably hate me already. Before you tear this message apart, I still feel obliged to warn you that your revolution is fucked--the empress knows your every move. By the way, how are moms? Still working day and night, never noticing one son is missing and the other is masterminding a revolution?

I can't write all this. I sigh, dropping the ring to the desk.

Maybe start with moms?

It's true, I guess, that each thing is only valuable at the right time. I was willing to rob someone for this ring just three months ago. And now? I should throw it away. The useless ring glints in the dull shadows of the evening as I spin it across the tabletop, and tumbles off its edge with a clink, clear and sharp unlike my restless mind. Maybe I'm overreacting, and Cale won't hate me for this letter?

After all, I'm still his brother, right? I haven't seen my family in less than three months, but somehow, my life has changed so drastically I can't even imagine how they're gonna react to everything I have to say now. Like I told Faris, it's like I don't know them anymore.

But I know they despise shamans. They said it themselves, dozens of times.

When I bend and lean down to pick up the ring, sudden smell of burning paper enters my nose. Glancing up, I realize there's a note hovering over my head, forming from ashes out of nowhere just like the one Loretto once sent me. My inspiration spiking, I reach for it. Loretto and I had a brief magical practice this morning, but we haven't talked about last night's hug, so maybe as the sun is setting again, Loretto is willing to talk?

Alas, the handwriting isn't Loretto's. I realize it the moment my fingertip touches the note and it sparks, forming fully, not an illusory shadow visible only to the receiver anymore, but a real letter.

"Is it true???" the letter demands.

I stare at the question, perplexed. The round, proportional letters are clearly Ariane's, but how can she send me a shaman note? Faris. She's still worried she might also be watched. But what's true? While I ponder on it without replying, another note falls on the tabletop before me:

"You're a shaman for real?!"

I curse under my breath. So Faris told her. A damn gossiper. Wasn't it obvious it was a secret?

"Don't tell anyone," I write back and quickly send it, pressing the aura ring against the paper, thinking of Ariane for a receiver. I still haven't learned to send shaman letters, and if I get distracted while channeling aura myself and accidentally direct the note to someone else, it'll look worse than bad. At least, the ring is useful now. My message blinks out of my sight without any sparks and ashes.

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