The Way Things Are Supposed to Be

Somehow, Theo got home. He couldn't remember anything about the journey back; it felt like he was moving through a numb fog. He didn't even know if he had said goodbye to the others. Most likely he'd snapped at them not to follow him.

It didn't matter. Now he was here in his room, curled up in bed with the blanket drawn over his shoulders.

Had he even felt this awful after Victor had left? He remembered numb days, nights lying awake running over every word Victor had said, endlessly replaying that final slam of the door, agonizing over what he could have done differently, if there'd been some way to make Victor stay...but in this case, he knew exactly what he should have done. He just shouldn't have challenged Ryan. Simple as that.

With the stark truth before him, he couldn't fight back the guilt and self-hatred. Each breath stabbed like he was swallowing a knife. Shivering, he pulled the blanket tighter around his body, but the chill didn't go away.

'I'm going to be a strong wizard. I'm going to save Victor.' Ha. When he'd said those things he might as well have been LARPing. He hadn't really understood what it meant to be strong, only how to hide behind his familiar. Hadn't Victor already accused him of exactly that?

Now he didn't know how he could face Zenith ever again. Every time he remembered the horror in Zenith's eyes, an icy hand squeezed his heart.

Yet if he avoided Zenith, didn't that make him an even worse coward? At the very least, he needed to apologize properly. Maybe he'd already apologized on the battlefield, but that only scratched the surface.

What could he even begin to say? He didn't know, and he didn't want to think about it. Not now. All he wanted was to stay like this forever, hiding under his blanket like a bug beneath a stone.

'Maybe those could be lyrics....' Theo choked off a laugh before it could bubble out of his throat. What the hell was wrong with him?

Well, he'd never been so miserable before. Seemed like the perfect time to get inspired for writing emo songs. But he already knew he wasn't going to do it. He didn't have a right to self-pity when Zenith was the one who had suffered the most.

Best to just stay here and not think about anything. His eyelids slid shut, heavy as lead – but not half as heavy as his heart.

~*~

When Theo opened his eyes, the sun was shining through his window, painting a vivid stripe across the floor. His neck and back ached ferociously; he'd fallen asleep sitting up against the wall.

But he had slept, and he couldn't remember any dreams. One tiny blessing, he guessed.

Now the day stretched before him, vast as a canyon. 'Take it one step at a time.' At least he wouldn't have to face Ryan yet, since it was Saturday. For now, he needed to...to talk to Zenith. To apologize.

His mind set, Theo reached for his phone. He started when a wall of notifications greeted him – at least ten texts and even three voice messages, all from Sam. She never called when she could text instead.

She must have been worried out of her mind. Guilt flared in Theo's chest again – not only had his selfishness hurt Zenith, it was dragging down his friends too.

He opened the latest text. 'Theo! Are you ok? Just let me know!!! I gotta help my sis with her bake sale today but Meg says everyone else is waiting for you and nobody blames you ok??? Plz answer me.'

Seeing how much Sam cared about him broke his heart all over again. As quickly as he could, he typed out a response. 'I'm ok. Don't worry about me and thanks so much. I'll go see them.'

Seconds later, the phone buzzed with Sam's response: a dancing, cheering Mashuparo sticker. For the first time, warmth flickered inside his heart. The cold, heavy guilt retreated – just a fraction, but enough to make a difference.

He couldn't let her down. Her, and all his friends – including Zenith. So he jumped out of bed and rushed to get ready as if he'd woken up late on a school day instead of a lazy Saturday morning.

When he got off the trolley, he ran to Meg's shop. By the time the sign appeared, he was panting for breath and a stitch tore into his side, but it didn't matter. He almost slammed the door into the wall in his eagerness to throw it open.

"Now, now, be a little gentler with store property." Meg's voice drifted across the heavily-perfumed air. "Glad to see you're full of energy today, though."

She was sitting behind the counter, wearing a warm smile. Theo was startled by how relieved he felt to see her.

"Sorry," he said when he caught his breath. "I didn't mean to make you guys worry."

"It's all right. I may have...pushed you into it too early." Meg's eyes softened. "So I have to apologize for that."

"N-no, it's okay," Theo stammered, taken aback. He hadn't expected Meg might blame herself as well.

"Though perhaps it's a necessary lesson to learn." Meg sighed and shook her head. "We can't win all the time, after all. The important thing is to be able to get up after a loss, assess where you went wrong, and train to improve."

Theo swallowed hard. "Where...do you think I went wrong?"

"It's better to figure things out yourself, I'd say. Though if you ask me as your teacher, it seems that you were caught off guard by his casting speed and couldn't respond in time. Only practice and experience will improve your own speed, so that just means you have to keep at it. All right?"

"Okay." Theo nodded. If he'd learned anything from this mess, it was to not be hasty about issuing or accepting challenges.

He did feel better after talking to Meg, but the tightness in his chest hadn't gone away. After all, she wasn't the only person he had to apologize to.

"So, um," he said, "Where's Zenith?"

"Ah." Meg leaned back a little. "He asked me to open the arena for him and as far as I know, he's spent the entire morning training there. I swear that man doesn't know the meaning of giving up."

She winked, but a strange disquiet stirred inside Theo. Against his will, he found himself remember the horror in Zenith's eyes again. Could Zenith really shake something like that off so easily?

Maybe he wasn't giving Zenith enough credit. Well, he wouldn't know unless he went to talk to his familiar himself. "Thanks, Meg. I guess I'll go see him now...."

"Fair warning, he's not in the most talkative mood." Darian's voice startled him; turning around, he saw her emerging from the shelves carrying a stack of books.

"What do you mean?"

Somehow Darian managed to shrug without dropping any of the books. "When Sir Zenith gets intense about his training, he won't tolerate any interruptions. He wouldn't speak to me unless I gave him a direct order, and even then only bothered with one-word answers."

Theo's heart thumped. "Is he okay?"

Darian sighed. "This is typical for him. Don't think too much of it, Theo."

Really? Zenith might be intense, but this seemed excessive even for him. Dread began to prickle inside Theo.

"He's not mad at me, is he?" The instant he blurted the question, heat seared in his cheeks. How whiny must he sound?

"Hardly." Darian blinked above the stack of books. "You made the right call, forfeiting a fight you couldn't win. Sir Zenith understands that. It's his duty as your familiar."

Duty. Ice slipped down Theo's spine, bringing with it memories of the awful things Ryan had said. 'The wizard's duty is to fight, and the familiar's duty is to obey the wizard. Didn't I tell you? The familiar's your weapon.'

"Was he right, then? Ryan?" Theo hated how his voice came out, high and strained. "About...about wizards and familiars? How familiars have to obey wizards?"

Meg and Darian exchanged troubled glances, but it was Lodo who spoke. In cat form, he leaped down from a shelf onto the countertop. "I wouldn't put it quite so crassly. But yes, the understanding is that the wizard gives the familiar power, and in return the familiar serves the wizard."

Lodo said it so matter-of-factly, and the others didn't challenge him. The prickle of dread deepened, transformed into a shiver that raked through Theo's entire body. He thought of all the times Zenith had bowed to him, proclaimed 'by your will.' He thought of Ryan declaring that homunculi made the best familiars because they were machines designed to fight.

Maybe it was the way things were supposed to be. Maybe Zenith had accepted Theo's decision, felt nothing negative toward him, and was now training because it was the logical thing to do. But...but....

"Theo, what's with the long face?" Meg leaned toward him, blinking. "Now, now, it's not like you're going to have to hit him with a whip and make him call you 'master' or anything like that. Well, unless that's what you're both into. I won't judge."

Theo didn't want to listen to this any longer. Without thinking, he took off down the store's narrow halls.

"Theo!" Meg sounded alarmed. "Where are you going?"

Theo didn't answer, just ran faster until he found the staircase entrance. He pushed open the door and stumbled down the stairs by twos, his heart slamming against his ribcage like it wanted to burst free.