Between Power and Fear

The return to the mansion was quiet. The night's weight pressed upon them, thick with the scent of salt and the distant murmur of waves lapping against the docks. Despite two attempts from Fedlimid to pull out words from Aleks, he received nothing more than silence in return. Aleks walked at a steady pace, but his gaze remained distant, his expression indistinct beneath the dim glow of the street lanterns.

Fedlimid glanced at him, narrowing his eyes. "You succeeded, right?" he asked. "There are physical details telling the tale. Several ones."

He gestured toward the flowing veil of pure turquoise that had become Aleks' hair, pressing for him to reply. Anything.

Aleks exhaled, his breath slow, tired. He flexed his fingers, feeling the slight sting of half-closed wounds, the dull ache of muscles pushed beyond their limits. Yet none of it compared to the sensation lingering beneath his skin, the awareness of what he had become, what he had done.