By the Chains that Bind Thee by Fantasy Weaver

---

Hello, I realize it has been a while since I last posted something on here. So, what's happening with "Something to Soothe the Mind"? Simply put, writer's block. I cannot seem to be able to write anything whenever I sit down to do so, at least, with that story. It happens to the best of us, so sorry for those who were waiting for an update on that. Eventually, I might post a new chapter.

For now though, I want to try something which might not be for everyone. If you aren't the type of person who enjoys long, complex narratives with lots of story elements, please move on - this one isn't for you. If you don't like a saucy reading that is quite descriptive of moving bodily parts and feelings of utter arousal, please, do yourself a favor and also avoid this.

This is a story set in a magic fantasy setting, with two adult male protagonists (shocking I know). As is standard, the haircutting part will come into play in a later chapter, with plenty of tense build-up and a -hopefully- compelling narrative. Oh and spoiler warning: yes, it's all coming off. Complex haircuts be damned, I write what makes me happy.

With the tedious bit out of the way, happy reading!

-Fantasy Weaver


Note

1: Some foul language ahead

2: Some adult content ahead

XXXXX

"…and with the power of thine mind and thine body, let thou show us how far thou hast come-"

The words rang deafeningly in the Sun Chamber, yet they could not have been more of a whisper to his ringing ears.

It was cruel. Inhuman. And yet, this was the Order. If they are doing this, then surely…

The High Mage’s words no longer resounded around him. Only the thunderous, nauseating beat of his own heart, the increasingly louder ringing, and his heavy breaths echoed in the din of his mind, over even the chaotic thoughts that ran rampant at the sight before him.

No. It couldn’t be. And yet something pulled at his thoughts, tugged on them, told him that YES, yes, that this was alright, that this was what was expected of them, of HIM, that he should strive to be in the same place as the initiated mage he could see in front of him…

Chains bound the young man by his wrists and ankles, spread eagle as his robe had been ripped from his body, leaving his nude form vulnerable to the ceremonial mirrors. Mirrors, rounded lenses that the other Elder Mages moved with their hands outstretched, bright magic emanating from their palms to manoeuvre the giant crystalline surfaces.

The Sun Chamber wasn’t called as such out of mere choice: The large domed room, with its stone walls and marble floors, had a long opening at its roof, slashing right through the middle of it, aligned with the sun’s path, from it’s rising in the dawn to it’s setting in the west. The enchantment on the Sun Chamber allowed for the roof and gap in the ceiling to always align with the sun, no matter how the seasons may affect it’s change of course.

He was no fool. Anyone who studied even a bit knew how lenses and mirrors could be used to concentrate the scorching power of sunlight; it was information that was practically fed down their throats as soon as they were old enough to speak. For some reason, it never really clicked with him how this concept would be used in the Initiation Ceremony.

Not like this. Not like…

The first beams of sunlight rose over the horizon. The mage’s floor length hair began to glow.

His piercing scream shattered through the ringing of his ears.

~ O ~

By the Chains that Bind Thee

~ O ~

The slamming of a fist on the study desk had Shay nearly screaming in fright.

"For Synn’s sake, Oras!" He cried indignantly.

Oras was trying hard not to burst out laughing at the other’s terrified features. Shay scowled at him, clearly conveying he did not enjoy being interrupted so harshly during his reading. When Oras couldn’t stop his shoulders from shaking at the pointed look, Shay threw his quill on the desk, rising from his seat with his books in hand.

"Oh, come on, Shay!" Oras whined, still chuckling slightly. "You don’t need to leave because I nearly made you squeal like a witch. What’s your problem?"

Shay regarded his friend over his shoulder, mouth still downturned in displeasure. Oras, as usual, had his apprentice robes all out of order. Something purple had stained his sleeves from an earlier class no doubt, and his hair was sticking up like it hadn’t seen a brush or comb in some time.

Blonde hair. Like himself.

"Shay, for real, are you alright?"

Like that mage.

Like all of them.

"I’m fine, just…don’t do that, alright? I’m not in the mood."

"Not in the mood?" Shay," Oras followed his fast-paced walking as he made his way to the dormitory, "you’ve been acting odd for a week. What has gotten into you?"

A week. Yes, that’s right. A week ago, now, it had happened.

He looked into Oras’ searching sky-blue eyes. Eyes that reflected his own. And yet, they still held innocence, ignorance, in them. Of course he would have noticed his behavior. He couldn’t know. He hasn’t seen it yet.

Shay had known Oras since they were children, having both been born orphans and raised in the SunWoven Order to become Mages of Synn. The same age they may be, they were not of the same level in their studies. The Order promotes individual growth and advancement, allowing each apprentice to learn at their own rhythm the intricacies of magic, and thus, as the apprentice grows and their knowledge of the arcane advances, they are separated into different levels.

Apprentices are divided into eight levels: fledgling, beginner, novice, trainee, learned, pupil, protégé and disciple. Oras, even as old as twenty-four, is still only a novice. Only a learned apprentice is allowed to see the initiation ceremony.

Oras has always been a slow learner, though that didn’t make him any less passionate about learning the craft. Shay himself found it hard at times, especially in the beginning,

Maybe it’s best Oras takes his time…

"I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather is all," Shay finally answered his friend, tucking a stray lock of golden hair behind his ear. "You know how it is; the cold weather of the mountains, the season getting darker…" Oras looked unimpressed when he glanced his way. "Oras, I swear, it’s nothing."

The other sighed as he closed his eyes. "You worry me sometimes, you know? We don’t see each other as often now that you’re a learned apprentice."

"I promise we’ll do something soon," he said. It was true though; the further he advanced in his studies, the less time he had for hobbies or for socializing. "Perhaps after my abjuration class tomorrow?"

"You had better hold that promise!"

He feigned a smile, but silently he vowed he would be there, for his friend’s sake. "Of course."

Oras left him shortly after, allowing Shay to journey back to his dormitory in peace. He entered the common room to a usual sight: various other apprentices, much like himself, deep in study or socializing with one another. The western window was open, offering a view of the setting sun outside-

Images of angry red skin. The smell of burning flesh.

He breathed slowly.

He went to his room, the small space providing warmth and comfort and safety in the immense halls of the SunWoven Order. Here he had all of his most precious belongings and memories. Every time he had changed rooms after each of his passage ceremonies, his personal possessions would be magicked away into his new home.

All apprentices learned early how to transform their room’s interior to suit their needs or aesthetic preferences, all the way to the size of the chamber, though making one bigger required harder enchantments and runes to be placed around the room. Himself, he had always preferred his room to be more of a nook, small and cozy. Bookshelves were filled with his books and scrolls, his circular bed situated by the northern window in an alcove, pillows and blankets pilled high. Plants and trinkets dangled from his ceiling, and a small fireplace gave light and heat. A throw rug with soft seating provided comfortable spaces to study on colder nights.

His vanity stood in a corner, large gilded mirrors offering a view of himself as he settled on the seat in front of it. He did look distraught, he thought, as he gazed at his reflection. Dark bags under his eyes seemed to make the blue pop even more than usual.

He thought of Oras and his disheveled appearance. All mages of the SunWoven Order had a few things in common which made them stand out among other mages: the blue eyes, the white, red and gold robes, and most striking, the blonde hair.

He ran his fingers through it now, shivering at even his own touch. It was in need of a good brushing.

He took the ivory brush on his vanity, carefully running it through the silken strands, thoughts focused on its significance to him and the Order.

Blonde hair is a symbol of Synn, their god, and is important in the SunWoven order. You can tell a mage’s level just by looking at the length and colour of their hair. Fledglings start out with their natural hair color, though it’s been so long, Shay couldn’t recall for the life of him what color his own was. As trials are done and passed, apprentices go through "passage ceremonies", small ceremonies which denote the ever-increasing knowledge of their craft, and allow them to get more in touch to the magic surrounding them.

Each time a passage ceremony is done, the High Mage makes one’s hair grow longer and it gets progressively more blond. It’s a symbol of pride among them, a cherished possession, and a powerful arcane focus. Unlike using a wand, an orb, a crystal or a staff, the SunWoven Order use their own hair as a magical focus, as it is connected to the body and closer to the mind, which makes it much easier for mages to attune to, and easier to use and gather magic with.

As a learned apprentice, Shay had medium-length hair, just grazing his shoulders, in a golden blonde shade. Oras still had dirty blond hair, just past hi ears. His was always sticking up because of how thick it was -and no doubt because Oras was messy to begin with.

More powerful mages had hair that went well over the six, ten, fifteen feet mark, in startling beautiful platinum tones. Such high-level mages often had elaborate plaits and jewelry in their hair, regardless of gender. He knows that as an eventual pupil, he will often accompany such mages and tend to their hair, as a show of respect, and so as to learn how to properly maintain his own magical focus when he will achieve that high level of power.

The thought of one day being so attuned to magic made his mind go fuzzy with want. Yes, it’s what he’s always wanted. It’s what he’s been studying for.

"Ugh…" he shook his head. There it was again, that odd buzzing in his brain. It’s been happening more often as of late. But surely, he’s fine.

Were those his own thoughts?

He scowled at his reflection, fingering the soft edges of his hair.

…

Sometimes he wondered…

XXXXX

Shay panted hard as his hair settled about his shoulders, the faint glow diminishing as steam lingered around his body.

"Well done, Shay!" his teacher, an Elder Mage, clapped his hands at his ability.

His hands trembled fiercely. He barely heard the praise. Their abjuration class today was to test their ability to create wards, protective barriers, against outside forces. Each apprentice would not know what force they would be trying to ward against. Some had to stop an evocation of gale winds, others to block out a lightning bolt, some yet had to shelter themselves from a tidal wave.

When Shay had been asked into the center of the training dome, he hadn’t expected to block out scorching sunlight.

His body had reacted before he could even think about it. His mind had been filled with those screams of agony, his nose with the scent of burning skin, his mind’s eye could SEE the initiation ceremony like it had happened yesterday.

His limbs shook. His eyes were staring unseeingly ahead at the evocation circle, hands still held out in front of him as though waiting for another sunblast to hurtle towards his-

"Shay?"

Startled blue eyes found Oras’ own.

They had been walking in the village for some time now. His abjuration class had ended half an hour ago, and yet his hands still shook at his sides.

"Sorry, I was zoning out," he replied, noncommittal. He had to get a hold of himself.

"Yeah, I could see that. If you didn’t want to be here-"

"I do, Oras," he sighed, stopping at a ward vendor’s cart. He eyed the stocks of different magic-infused papers and parchments one could use to make warding tags with. "You said yourself we don’t spend a lot of time together anymore. I want to make up for that."

Oras was chewing on the end of the wooden stick which had some flavored taffy on it before -before Oras had engulfed it. "Yeah, I understand that, but I thought we were going to do something fun, not" he pointed at the papers Shay was purchasing, "going shopping for study materials."

Immediately, Shay felt guilty. He couldn’t help it; every time he thought too long about it, he felt the need to further his studies, even now, when they were indeed supposed to be relaxing, his first thoughts were on what materials he was missing, what components did he need to get. He placed a hand to his head. He wanted to relax as well, but it was hard to let go.

He breathed, turning towards his friend with a forced smile. "Alright. What do you propose we do then?"

Oras smiled, pointing a finger at him. "You need something fun! Something to loosen you up, get your robes off!"

Shay shook his head, golden hair swaying about his shoulders, "Honestly Oras, we aren’t children anymore."

"You’re right. We’re not. So…" he placed an arm over his shoulder, ushering him towards another road, weaving through the various other mages and townspeople, "How about we get you a drink?"

Oras’ arm brushed at his nape. A shiver coursed down his spine and Shay immediately removed himself from his friend’s embrace. "A drink Oras? Really?"

"You have no classes tomorrow, what’s the big deal?"

They were already in front of the local drink hole, a place called the Morning Glory Inn. The swinging sign at the entrance was carved with an enchanted picture of a morning glory flower on a sun, the patterns twisting and turning and changing every so often. It was a popular place among the apprentices, having everything from artificers, bards, enchanted drinks and the prospect of promiscuity.

All in all, Shay never went here.

"No! Oras, I’m not-"

"Relax! Just one drink, alright? I promise."

XXXXX

Shay leaned his head on his hand, glaring daggers at the stumbling buffoon of a friend standing on the bar counter, face flushed and eyes swimming as he downed yet ANOTHER pint of Bumblebee Mead, named for its distinctive spicy sting. Yet still, Oras chugged the drink to the cheering crowd’s delight, nearly loosing his footing when he finally finished the impressive amount of alcohol.

The clattering of fists banging on tables, the hooting and hollering of the drunken apprentices, loyal customers and drunkards accompanied the cacophonous harmony of Oras belching loudly.

One drink. For Synn’s sake…

It was unbecoming of them to be here, never mind participating in such debauchery as Oras was. And the NOISE. How could his inebriated friend find such pleasure in being here? The drink had certainly gone to his head, because Shay could feel his own starting to pound, like an incessant knocking between his eyebrows.

"F*** this…" he swore, finally having enough, He removed himself from the stool by which Oras had left him earlier, his own empty glass of pale ale sitting only half drunk on the wooden table.

Oras would have to find his way back to the dormitory by himself. There was no way Shay was staying here a minute longer. Classes or no classes tomorrow, his studies called. He left a handful of silver coins on the table by his drink, resorting to leaving Oras to deal with his own tab come morning. He did not want to be the one paying for his bad decisions.

With one last cringe as he heard his friend begin to sing some tune way off key, he was out the door.

It was already sunset. With the way Oras was drinking, Shay doubted he would be in his room by tonight. The cooling air and quieter streets of the village of Haven’s Creek greeted him pleasantly as he made his way back, to the looming towers and domed ceilings of the SunWoven Order, his headache dissipating along with the riotous sounds of the Morning Glory. Passing a hand through his golden hair, Shay breathed a sigh of relief, eyes closing momentarily. So much for spending time with Oras…

Well, with the streets being so quiet, he might take a detour to the bridge heading out of the village. It’s a few minutes longer taking that route to his dormitory, but the color-changing wisterias covering the trellis archways were always a sight for sore eyes (or head in this case) and the scent of the flowers always brought him peace of mind.

Perhaps going there would rid him of the haunting imagery of that poor initiate.

The setting sun always made the bridge look spectacular; with the ever-shifting colors of the wisterias, the flitting butterflies and honeybees flying about, wings catching the warm light as they flew past, it truly was magical, no enchanting necessary. Shay passed under the hanging blossoms, brushing past purple and blue ones, inhaling the sweet aroma.

He stopped, blue eyes focusing on something out of place.

No, not something.

The silhouette turned to him, and a gasp lodged in his throat.

The figure was a contrast to his surroundings in every way: among the colorful, vibrant petals, the lively green, the bright white of the trellis, the sun shone on him from behind, only enhancing the shadows that clung to him.

Him. A man, Shay now saw, dressed entirely in black, a long cloak hanging from his shoulders to the ground. His legs wore slim knee-high boots and black trousers, with pouches hanging from his thighs on straps of dark leather.

Shay found himself battling to not lick his lips. A well-defined torso was hidden behind a black vest, and though he had never seen a mage dressed in such a dark palette, he knew that those were typical mage clothing, if only by the design of the wear. His eyes lifted further.

His heart skipped a beat, and he wasn’t entirely certain whether it was attraction…or fear that caused it.

Silken strands of long raven hair stirred in the faint breeze, a sheen so dark in seemed to engulf the sunlight passing through it. The delicate strands framed the most striking features Shay had ever seen on a person: a slender, angular face, with ghostly pale skin, met his gaze. But the most striking thing of all was when a pair of golden eyes stared right back at him.

This color, it wasn’t golden like he would call his hair. Those eyes truly WERE gold, shimmering and scintillating, like they had trapped the sun in them, and they were looking right at him.

He found himself backing up. Something in him told him to stay away from this man.

The buzzing started in his mind again. Oh gods, not now…

He placed a hand at his temple, urging the feeling to subside, ears ringing, eyes pinching shut at the unpleasant feeling-

The feeling stopped.

A gasp lodged in his throat when his eyes flew wide.

The dark stranger was right in front of him, those terribly golden eyes staring down into his frightened blue ones.

Something was touching him, he realized. His head. His hair. The stranger had his hand in his hair.

"Breathe."

He saw those angular lips moving. He heard the words, but he didn’t register them. The hand was in his hair, on his scalp, fingertips leaving a tingling, scorching path everywhere they ventured. Did they even move at all?

They did then, caressing, combing through his blonde locks.

His eyelids drooped. Oh gods…

A fully body shiver coursed down his spine, making every limb tremble violently.

He squirmed, barely noticing the ever-so-slight tightening of the stranger’s hand on his head. Lidded blue eyes could only stare unseeingly into golden abysses that seemed to call to him, that dissipated the buzzing, the ringing, the fuzz and cobwebs of his mind, replaced them with something else. Something different, something else…

Something that stirred down in the lowest pits of his belly.

His eyes snapped into focus, breath returning in sharp bursts.

The stranger removed his hand, blonde locks falling from his retreating fingers.

Shay shook, eyes widening. He took a step back.

The tall, dark stranger simply gazed passively down at him. Nothing more.

He ran.

Panting hard, he flew past the man at speeds which he didn’t know himself to be capable of, wisterias passing by his vision in colorful blurs, petals flying around him as he exited the trellis on the other side, leaving the stranger behind, not daring to look back.

He didn’t know why he fled. Fear? Or something else, something scarier? Whatever it was, that man was not safe, he couldn’t be, not with such darkness, not with those eyes, not with how he touched him…

Oh Synn, forgive him, he could still feel the man’s fingers on his scalp, at his hair, touching his most precious of magical focuses. What a fool he was to have let him touch it! Who knows what could have happened. What did he do to him? What was this feeling he had instilled in his mind, his body, his very soul? For a moment, Shay had felt-

No! He had to stop thinking about it. Stumbling, he swerved a corner, finding himself already inside the hallway to his dormitory. Had he phased out? Bumping into some disgruntled apprentices, Shay finally reached his room, and without a moment’s hesitation, he flung the door open like his life depended on it, and latched it closed as soon as he was inside.

Panting hard, his heartbeat pounding his eardrums, Shay frantically searched around his room, eyes landing on his stack of wooden talismans.

Practically throwing himself at them, his shaking hands searched through the different talismans. Where were they? Where were they!?

The rune for "Protection" met his searching eyes.

There! He grabbed it, flipping it in the air as he clapped his hands, golden hair glowing faintly, lifting from his shoulders as he incanted the right words. As his hands parted, the falling talisman stopped mid air between his glowing palms, the runes etched into the wood pulsating with a cool, blue light.

The talisman shattered, its four glowing splinters flying with a mind of their own to each corner of his bedchamber, embedding themselves into the stone wall as if they were made of iron. The runes shifted from the talisman pieces across the entirety of his room, covering walls, floor and ceiling, before the magic bled into the surroundings, vanishing from sight.

Shay’s hair settled about his shoulders, returning to its golden hue.

He fell to his knees, hands flat against the floor as he caught his breath. It’s alright. He could relax now. The dark stranger wouldn’t get him here…

The stranger…gods above, Shay could hardly believe such a person could exist. He could see in his mind’s eyes the way the man gazed at him with those luminous eyes, could still recall the exact location of the two beauty spots on his face: one at the corner of his mouth, the other just under his right eye. The image of his facial features was seared into his mind like it had been branded there with a hot iron, and despite the chaotic beating of his fear-stricken heart, he could only think that he had never seen such a devastatingly handsome man in his life.

A trembling breath, bordering on a terrified moan, shook his lungs. He brought a hand to his mouth, pressing hard, trying in vain to supress the sound. What was wrong with him? What did the stranger do? Was this some charm the man had inflicted upon him? No, no, it wasn’t, it couldn’t have been; all dormitories have dispelling magic at their entrances. If he had been put under the man’s influence, it would have dissipated as soon as he entered the dorm.

What was this then? This incredibly heavy feeling in his chest, in his abdomen, the tightness of his inner thighs, the-

A horrified sound flew past his lips, hand pressing harder against his open lips. He was erect. A hesitant touch to his robed body revealed it, to his ever more panicked self. Why?

He thought of the dark stranger, his hand entwined in his golden locks, fingers carding through his tresses with ease…

"Oh mercy…" he pleaded quietly, covering his eyes as heat assaulted his features. His hair and scalp were one of the most sensitive parts of his body, being so closely linked with his arcane ability. Had the stranger known that information when he had placed his hand on him?

His appendage throbbed at the memory, still so fresh in his mind, and without his conscious consent, Shay’s hand began to rub himself through his robes.

‘No, stop!’ his mind pleaded with him. He snatched his hand away, rising from the floor too quickly; he stumbled, grabbing onto the nearest armchair to steady himself. He was dizzy, mind overwrought with countless thoughts, all of them increasing in intensity as he tried to steady his breath.

‘Breathe.’

That’s…that’s what he had told him, the stranger, right? That was his low voice he could hear in his head. It was the warmth of his fingers that he could still feel on his scalp…

He didn’t know why, but he could only listen to his body’s needs in that moment. And in that moment, it needed release.

He tore his robes from his body, throwing them in the room to be found only later, much, much later, when his mind would be at ease and the demanding heat between his legs sated, soothed. He was barely conscious of his own whimpering, the way he groaned when finally he had removed the constricting clothing from his overly hot body.

He crawled to his bed, splayed himself on his back as his chest lifted up and down with every heavy intake of air. He was sweating, trembling fiercely with a want so deep he could no longer think for himself.

He didn’t even know when he had retrieved the bottle of oil that sat nearly untouched in his bedside table, but there it was, in his hand, and he used its contents to lubricate his aching erection, discarding the bottle with little care. When finally, he wrapped his digits around himself, he groaned loudly, bucking his hips at the sensation.

But quickly, his body ached for something more. His mind focused on the dark stranger, reminded him of their proximity, of his intensely dark allure, the shadows in his rich eyes, the hand that entangled in his hair…

Yes…yes, that’s it. His hair. Oh gods, his hair…

Unbidden, his free hand dug into the golden silk atop his head, found the sensitive scalp underneath, and in his mind’s eye, it was the stranger playing in his hair, giving him such affections and doting on him.

"Oh f***…" Shay closed his eyes as a sound lodged itself in his throat. He was so close. So…

He wanted the man to touch him again, by Synn. The way his hair had fallen from his long fingers as he had let go of him.

"…ah- Augh!" His hand furiously pumped his appendage, lost to the sensations, to the heated memory.

At last, with the man’s searing eyes burning the canvas of his mind, Shay climaxed, his seed pouring out in spurts, then thick, silken rivulets between his digits as he slowed his pace, twitching and moaning as he came down from his high.

XXXXX

"Schools of Magic and Sorcery."

No. Not this one.

"The History of Mage Clothing and Armor"

He shook his head, replaced the book.

"Mage Orders and their Hierarchy."

Hm. It could be useful. He kept this one.

"Circles of Dark Magic."

Bingo.

With a dusty clatter, Shay dropped the books onto the study table, stabilizing the floating orb of light providing him with some much-needed vision. The bound tome on Circles of Dark Magic looked as though it had been resting untouched on the shelf of the library for decades, and smelled like it too. He flipped the first pages open, coughing as particulate lodged in his nose.

There are many Mage Orders, on this continent and on neighboring ones, each practicing magic in their own way. The SunWoven Order gather magic by using hair as their focus and as a symbol to better link them with their god, Synn, the god of the sun. The Order of the SilverVine were particularly adept at using cats as familiars through which they gathered their magic. The Order of WhiteClaw held an impressive link to the seas, and often used pearls or fish scales as a focus.

There were countless Orders, each with their own defining features to recognize one another, not just with their means by which to accumulate magic, but by appearance as well. You could tell someone came from the Order of Mycellia just by their robes alone, which were brown with white webbing from the mycelium they were often exposed to due to their link with mushrooms. Those from the Everfrost Order wore robes lined with fur, to protect them from the frigid temperatures of their ice caves.

Shay had never seen mages wear all black before.

It had taken some discretion to come to the library at such a late hour. It wasn’t against the rules to be wandering the halls at night, but an Elder Mage who found him about wouldn’t simply leave him be without some questioning, and the last thing the young man needed was to explain to a superior why he was suddenly interested in Circles of Dark Magic.

No mage worth their salt would ever think of becoming a Dark Mage, in fact, from what little he was taught about them, Shay understood that one didn’t choose to be one, but rather, circumstances would obligate them to become one. Orders had safety and power in them, and being in one provides magic users a place away from harm and a place to practice magic without worrying about the general public. Mages are accepted, kindly, into communities, but unless a village is being raided by goblins or ravaged by a wyvern, people generally prefer not to be subjected to a mage’s training routine. Villages like Haven’s Creek often had an agreement with the Order to be welcoming place for mages, and with how long the SunWoven Order has been around, Haven’s Creek has adjusted to the coming and going of mages splendidly.

That being said, a Dark Mage would not be so welcomed, nor as protected. They were much smaller groupings than the Orders, and often had no place to settle. They live nomadic lifestyles, shunned by the public for going against the Orders.

Shay flipped page after page of that book, sifting through the Circles and their descriptions -rather unpleasant ones, considering this was written by mages from the Orders- and trying to find one that matched him.

The stranger.

He flipped to a new page, words narrating in his head. "Circle of Decay: Mages of this circle practice magic by utilising the residual energy in rotting wood, leaves or corpses. They can be recognized by their dark brown attire and the numerous animals pelts they stitch to their robes."

That didn’t sound at all like him. Shay turned to another page.

"Circle of Blood: Quite unnervingly, these Dark Mages use the dangerous aspects of blood magic to do their bidding. Drawing from an animals’ blood, another person’s blood or, most baffling of all, their own blood, such mages use the magic stored in the bloodstream to do sadistic rituals in order to gain power. Their symbol is a of a dagger soaked in blood, set upon deep crimson robes."

He would have remembered encountering such a person. Next page.

His eyes widened marginally.

"Circle of Stars."

His eyes scanned the bold text underneath.

"HIGHLY DANGEROUS INDIVIDUALS. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO ENGAGE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES."

Intrigued, Shay continued to read the entire page description, opting not to gloss over words this time.

"Ability: Dark Mages from the Circle of Stars derive their power from the night, the darkness, the constellations. Unlike many other Circles, mages from the Circle of Stars find magic in all aspects of the night sky, from planets to asteroids. They have found a way to harness the immense magic of the universe into themselves, and are more dangerous because of it. Their power is at their peek more often than others due to the numerous astral happenings that occur in a year. Lunar eclipses, comet showers, equinoxes and solstices, supermoons, alignment of planets; all of these can effectively heighten the magic that a Mage of Stars can utilize, thus making them a threat best dealt with during the day. However, such mages are efficient at storing their power, making them a challenge even in the day. Should one attempt to take such a person on in combat, one should assemble a group of mages and plan accordingly, accounting for the loss of life during the encounter."

Shay’s brows furrowed as he read. Loss of life? Against one mage?

"Weaknesses: As mentioned above, a Mage of Stars is weaker during the day. The only viable weakness that has been tested against such mages is that of radiant light -like from the sun- however the experiments proved unfruitful. To this day, there are no known weaknesses."

No known weaknesses? Even Shay knew that such an advantage in combat was a highly regarded aspect. He would never dream of meeting such an individual.

Finally, he focused on appearance. "Recognizing a Mage of Stars is simple enough. Though they don’t often wear the symbol of their Circle (a gold-lined, four-pointed black star), they are the only mages to wear black. This is problematic for some, as black is a mourning color, and it can often be difficult to discern whether a person is simply in mourning, or if they are of the Circle of Stars."

Right. Shay had nearly forgotten that. Perhaps the stranger he had seen had simply been mourning the loss of someone-

"But a foolproof method of recognition is twofold: all individuals wear their black hair loose and long, and their eyes are the color of gold."

He stared unseeingly at the page before him.

His right hand was trembling.

XXXXX

He’s an idiot. A blasted idiot.

What was he doing here? If he got caught, what would the Order think?

He narrowed his eyes. He had to know for certain. He couldn’t rest not knowing.

But gods above…he’s putting himself in danger.

From his discreet hiding place behind the bridge’s pillars, Shay spied on the dark stranger. He was lucky to have found him at the very same location. Or unlucky, depending on how this goes.

Ah f***. No. This was a stupid idea. Let the stranger stick around long enough and the Order would surely find him and dispose of him. Better yet, he should be going to the High Mage himself to report a sighting of a Mage of Stars. Then he would have peace of mind. Then he could continue with his studies. After all, his next passage ceremony is just around the corner. He just needed to pass his next trials and all would go back to normal.

Right. So, he should just turn around, forget his initial plan, and go see a higher up.

He turned on his heel.

And tripped on a stray rock.

"Ah!" he landed hard on the gravel road, hissing at the feel of tiny pebbles embedded into his palms. Damn it all! He needed to move quick before-

"Are you alright?"

Shay flicked his head around, golden locks flipping over his shoulder as he backed away, wide blue eyes finding concerned gold staring down at him.

Looks like he no longer had a choice but to proceed with his initial plan, but…by the gods the man was still just as beautiful as when he had first seen him. He could scarcely think over the rhythmic beating of his heart.

A slim brow lifted questioningly at him. "Is something the matter?"

A deep blush marred Shay’s features. The sudden reality that just a few days ago he had been quivering in bed with barely repressed need at the thought of the man before him, and that now he was in front of him again, hit him like a force spell had been thrown at him. He quickly got to his feet, dusting his robes as took a step back. "I-I’m fine."

"Let me see your hands."

"What!? No, I don’t need-"

But his plea fell on deaf ears, for the stranger had already taken hold of his wrists, and those golden eyes were inspecting his roughed-up palms keenly. At a loss at what to do, knowing that the man was no doubt too strong for him to wrench his hands back, Shay simply stood there, eyes trained to the road at their feet.

When he felt a cool sensation along his hands, he dared to lift his gaze, and his mouth opened soundlessly at what he saw. The dark stranger was…healing him? Their hands were engulfed in golden light; Shay could feel the small cuts in his skin being closed, felt the stinging pain recede.

‘But…’ His mind finally caught up, ‘His magic is gold, it’s light, it’s like…’

It’s like his.

When finally, the man let his hands go, Shay stared at him, unable to form words. Then, the man smiled, tilting his head ever so slightly at him, examining Shay with much interest.

"Your hands should be fine now." Those golden eyes narrowed. "Have we…met before?"

Did the man not recognize him? Then again, he must look like many number of apprentices from the Order. To this stranger, he’s just one among many. A more important question presented itself however: should he mention that they had indeed met before?

Unfortunately, the stranger’s eyes lit up with recognition before he could think too much about it. "You were passing by here a few days ago when you had a headache, isn’t that so?"

No use in lying about it. "Yes," he answered, moving aside to restore some much-needed space. His face burned at the memory, and the subsequent licentious act he had committed once in his bedchambers. He simply hoped his uneasiness went unnoticed by the other.

"I thought I recognized you," the man went on. "You looked quite distressed when you ran off. You had me worried."

He worried about him? But, he’s a Dark Mage, they care not for other’s wellbeing, surely? "I was…uh," there was no suitable explanation for how quickly he had fled the bridge that day.

"It’s alright," the other went on, lifting a placating hand. His eyes dropped momentarily, too quick for Shay to say what emotion had passed in them. "I understand why most people, mages especially, would stay away from me." Something seemed to flash in those golden eyes then. "Oh, that’s right-"

Shay watched him reach into one of the pouches at his thigh. Extending his hand, he produced warding papers. "You dropped this last time."

That’s right, he and Oras had gone to the markets before going to the Morning Glory. He had purchases warding papers for his abjuration class; warding papers he could no longer find come morning. The stranger had kept them?

Hesitantly, he reached for the wrapped bundle, eyes searching those golden irises for any sign of ill intent, but he found none. The burning question he had wanted to ask the man was on the tip of his tongue now, and despite having wanted to speak with the Order, he now found himself using every ounce of courage he had to go on with his initial plan. "You’re a Mage, correct?" he began hesitantly as he stored the papers away.

"I am," the other said, passing by the hanging wisteria to lean against the trellis.

"A…Dark Mage?"

Golden eyes narrowed. That perfect mouth twitched. "I don’t think you quite understand my kind."

His kind? "Is that not what you are, though?"

A laugh. "What do you define as a Dark Mage, little apprentice?"

A flustered blush heated the tips of Shay’s ears at the belittling term. He floundered for words, but only for a moment. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me." The man approached him then, and Shay felt the inexplicable urge to run again. Instead, he backed up to the opposite side of the bridge, his back brushing against the flowers as the trellis met with his body, but the dark stranger only crept closer, crowding his space, leering down at him from under dark lashes. "You call me a Dark Mage, but do you even know of what you speak?"

"I know that you’re a Mage of Stars," he found himself hissing at the man, surprised with his own forwardness, "and when the Order finds out, you’ll be hunted down."

A resounding laugh came from the man, startling Shay so much he jumped at the sound. "You silly little apprentice…your Order is much too afraid to do anything so rash. I bet they’ve drilled it into your skull that you shouldn’t attempt to confront a Mage of Stars alone." He leaned his head close to his, so close Shay had to jerk his head back against the trellis. Two steely arms caged him against the flowery surface, and, unable to move away, the man leaned closer, one hand lifting to his head-

Shay bit his lip against a moan; the stranger brushed his hair back from his left ear.

Warm lips brushed the sensitive shell, and a shiver wracked his body when low, teasing words echoed in his ear, "Which would make you a very foolish man."

‘This is it’ he thought frantically, eyes pinching shut, ‘You couldn’t keep your mouth shut and had to butt your head in business that isn’t yours and now you’re going to die-’

However, it wasn’t pain he felt next, there wasn’t a flash of dark magic, no magic-infused punches to his guts or his face. No. The stranger leaned back.

His hand buried itself in the hair at his nape.

A hand flew to his mouth, his own, Shay realized, and a high-pitched sound came to him then. Was he the one making such lewd noise? He forced his palm against his mouth, uncaring for what he might look like to the other’s eyes, he just didn’t want the man to HEAR him.

"Too sensitive…" Shay opened his eyes, uncertain whether he had heard correctly, when the stranger let go of him.

Immediately, the young man took heavy breaths, his face turning away as humiliation burned on his face, his chest, to the very tips of his ears. The only saving grace was that he didn’t seem to have stiffened at the touch, not this time at least. His gaze slinked to the man before him, who had removed the cage of his arms from around him. He dared a peek at the man’s face, found him to be deep in thought.

When the dark stranger caught his sideways glance, the threatening aura about him seemed to dissipate. A short snort left his lips, a smirk tilting them. "Don’t look so afraid. Contrary to what your study books say, I’m no monster. I simply use magically differently. Nothing more. The Orders just can’t stand not having control over how we, I, do so."

Shay swallowed, brow furrowing irritably at the man. "You make it sound like the Orders are the ones in the wrong."

"If that’s how it sounds to you, then perhaps you should reevaluate your beliefs."

Searing sunlight flashed across his subconscious. Agonizing screams. Shrieked pleas for mercy, wails and cries and sizzling, smoking, burning flesh.

He shook in fury. He’s wrong. It’s alright. It’s the path he had chosen, and it’s the RIGHT one. "You’re wrong, you’re…"

The more fervently he thought it, the more he doubted himself.

Perhaps his inner battle showed on his face, for the stranger sighed. As he turned away from Shay, he called out to him, "My name is Eleos. If ever you find yourself seeking conversation, you can always find me here."

"I, what?" Shay’s eyes followed the man’s retreating back through the wisterias. A sudden need to know more ate away at his insides. He sprinted after the man, Eleos, pleading, "Wait, what do you mean-"

The words died on his tongue. The last thing he saw, was the way long raven hair emitted a golden aura, before the man vanished completely.

Eleos… His arcane focus is his hair?

But…only the SunWoven order…

Blue eyes stared unseeingly into the sky as the last rays of sunlight were engulfed by the night.

XXXXX

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