Immortal Consequences(10)

Back in her old life, Irene had resented her mom for raising her the way she did. Always on the run. Constantly moving. A never-ending stream of back-alley drug deals and mold-infested motels. Irene had often wished they could put it all behind them. Settle down somewhere, maybe even move to Korea and live with her grandparents in their home a few miles outside Seoul.

She’d never had the chance to go, spending most of her childhood following her mom’s relentless string of deadbeat lovers around New England. She knew little of the family her mom had left behind. The only information she had accumulated throughout the years had unknowingly slipped from her mom’s lips when the heroin seeped into her veins and loosened her tongue. But she dreamt of it. She dreamt of holding her grandma’s wrinkled hands and walking through the tall grass and wildflowers together. She dreamt of a life filled with laughter, a life that felt safe and secure.

A life far, far away from the one she had always known.

But that had been the dream of a child. Of a stupid, na?ve child who hadn’t accepted the reality she had been handed—the reality she couldn’t run away from, no matter how hard she tried. And despite any lingering childish fantasies, Irene had soon learned just how certainly she couldn’t run away from the life her mom had given her. Because that life had consequences.

And those consequences had brought her here.

“What are you waiting for?” Masika asked, cutting through Irene’s thoughts. She snapped her fingers and a small flame burst from her open palm.

“Nothing.”

Irene pushed the door open, the rusted hinges creaking as she took a tentative step inside. The office was dimly lit, nothing but the pale glow from the night sky pooling in through the windows and the soft light emanating from Masika’s flame. An enchanted lantern hovered by the entrance, which Irene lit with a quick snap of her fingers.

Painted landscapes and dust-covered bookshelves adorned the wooden walls, the shelves filled to the brim with leather-bound textbooks and ancient scrolls on illusionary magic. Even the air was redolent with the stifling scent of old books.

“Should be somewhere on his desk,” Irene muttered to herself, scouring the stacks of papers thrown over the large wooden desk at the center of the room.

“You could just study, you know?” Masika twirled the flame in her hand. “Might do you some good.”

“I do study,” Irene grumbled. “But I need an advantage. Everybody needs an advantage.”

“You’re worried about the Decennial.”

A tense silence swept over them like a sudden gust of wind. Irene’s entire body froze, her hands clamped firmly over the edge of the desk. She could feel her emotions getting the better of her, the anger rising deep within her belly, threatening to pour out of her without restraint.

She inhaled a sharp breath. A second one for good measure.

Relax, Irene. You are in control.

“I’m…not worried.” She spoke the words slowly. “Being prepared is not a bad thing. And if there’s a chance this stupid exam is what is standing between me and accessing my full power, then so be it.”

Masika stepped forward. Irene still hadn’t glanced up, but she could feel her friend’s eyes boring into the side of her face.

“Look…I get it. The Decennial is important for all of us. I’d obviously love to be nominated, but…” Masika’s words trailed off as she let out a soft sigh. “It’s a game of luck. There are so many of us who are talented, who are good enough, but—”

“I am good enough.” Irene slammed her fist onto the desk. An inkpot rattled and tumbled to the floor. “There is nobody who deserves this more than me. Nobody who has worked harder.” She paused, steadying her breathing. Her control was slipping, edging closer toward the rage begging to break free.

She exhaled a long, steadying breath and glanced up, finally meeting Masika’s eyes. “And if you think I’m going to spend another ten years wasting my potential…draining my magic until I’m dumped into the Ether to reap insolent souls for the rest of eternity…then you clearly don’t know me at all.”

Silence reverberated between them. Masika’s eyes were filled with an emotion Irene couldn’t quite read. But before either of them could say anything else, something caught Irene’s attention—a large envelope tucked beneath a stack of old exams. She let out a sigh of relief.

“There you are…I knew I could find it. Honestly…Calligan should really clean up a bit in here. It’s an absolute—”

“Irene…” Masika cleared her throat. “You’re still not considering…the other option, are you?”

Irene blinked in surprise. She hadn’t been expecting that.

“What?”

“Last Decennial…，” Masika began, her words slow and steady. “When the nomination went to Avery. You got drunk and went on a tirade about becoming a Demien. You said…I’d rather the shadows swallow me whole than waste another second here.”

Irene stiffened. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Because that isn’t an option.” Masika walked forward. “If you give up your humanity and start using shadow magic…it could destroy you. You’ve heard the stories. The more shadow magic Demiens use…the less human they become. Not to mention that you’d lose all the parts that belong to the person you used to be when you were alive.”