When a stranger with mystical powers saves her from her abusive ex-boyfriend, Rosalyn Morissette has no idea that her life is about to change forever. She is thrust into a world she never even dreamed of, one with magic, monsters, and a chance for h...
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* -10 years later-
"Sugar?"
Rosalyn shook her head, accepting her tea without extra sweetener. Honey was enough. The Ancient One smiled and passed her the small cup. She blew on it a few times before gingerly taking a sip.
The pair sat on a mat on the floor, enjoying the serenity of the moment. A warm breeze blew through the windows, ruffling Rosalyn's loose black hair. The room itself was quite simple, emphasizing the beauty of its natural wood, and the late afternoon light bathed the room in warmth. In the corner, one of the oldest sorcerers, Master Hamir, happily perused a book, leaving the two women to hold their discussion in peace.
"I must say, I'm surprised to see you out and about today." The Ancient One poured herself tea. "Wong tells me that you've been retreating into the library again."
Rosalyn shrugged, keeping her eyes on the steam rising from her cup. Truth be told, today wasn't a day that she felt like being social, but when the Ancient One asked her to tea, she knew better than to refuse. She'd learned that early on in her time at Kamar-Taj.
Her fingers moved quickly as she signed out her thoughts. "I've been studying."
"Ah, studying. That's what Mordo said when I asked him about your odd behavior."
"My obsession with reading is odd behavior? I'm pretty sure it's always been that way."
"I suppose that is true," the Ancient One said with a chuckle. "Ever since you came to us, you've been up to your neck in books."
Rosalyn shrugged, a shy smile playing on her lips as she clutched the cup of tea. She reached subconsciously to rub her neck as she thought. It was true, that she'd always felt more drawn to Kamar-Taj's dusty shelves than its training grounds.
The reason was quite simple: the idea of hurting others repulsed her. Sometimes, it was unavoidable, but as someone who'd been subject to so much pain for many years, she had no desire to inflict it upon anyone else.
A door creaked open. Rosalyn immediately stood when she saw Mordo, her old master. She now considered him to be the brother she always wanted growing up, but he wasn't alone. Another man followed him closely.
He was a few inches taller than Mordo, with messy black hair flecked with occasional gray, but she could tell it didn't correspond with his age, as he only looked to be a few years older than her. His eyes swept around the room with a shameless curiosity, like he needed to gather as much information about his surroundings as he could at all times. His arms were crossed, almost in defense. Just from his slightly forced movements, she could tell that he'd been injured, perhaps beaten, and her heart immediately ached.
