Chapter 4 - Consequences
Hitting a hard wooden surface jolted me from the pill-induced sleep. I blinked a few times in the darkness but my mind refused to focus, jumbled thoughts racing through my mind as the haze refused to lift. I reached out blindly and sent the nightstand clattering to the floor. The crash sounded hallowed in my ears, like coming from far away. My shaky hand brushed against the bed frame while my eyes discerned the silhouette of a nightstand toppled over a little farther to my left.
<
There was a bed there as well, but I remembered it bathed in sunlight. Seven years ago, the room was bright, not like this—this one was thick with darkness.
The sun assaulted my senses and I opened my eyes to the blinding white light. I closed them again but the light refused to go so I opened them slowly this time and blinked trying to adjust to my surroundings.
A small, delicate medical drone was hovering in front of my face.
"You are awake." A voice could be heard coming from the small device.
"Where am I?"
"You are currently in the Main Healing Center in Ylophis on Ohina."
"What is my condition?"
"Aside from suffering from psionic fatigue you are healthy. As a matter of fact you will be released into the custody of the High Command later today."
"Oh…"
"Also your friend's parents wish to see you."
"My friend, how is he?"
"I regret to inform you that your friend did not survive his wounds."
The words echoed in my ears, then hit all at once like a collapsing ceiling. My chest tightened. I couldn't breathe. My hands were still gripping the bed rails, white-knuckled, like they could anchor me to a reality that no longer existed. Laatuuk was gone. And I had helped kill him.
"The Zinonians will be informed that you are awake and you can see them." The drone communicated moving farther away from me as the upper part of the bed started to tilt upwards bringing me into a half-reclined position.
The hot tears running down my cheeks startled me enough to notice that my hands were clasped securely to the side-rails of the hospital bed-frame.
The door opened letting in a pair of older Zinonians. They walked slowly and the silence grew with every step they took inside the room until they stopped and stood beside my bed.
My eyes fell on them taking in the signs the grief etched on their figures starting with their multiple eyes and finishing with their posture, both with their horned heads bowed in sadness.
My lips parted to say the words that one would say in such a situation but nothing came out. What could I say? That I was sorry? It was little consolations to parents that lost their only son beside what will words do for their sorrow?
"Why?" Latook's father asked braking the silence
"He wanted to steal a pure psyclite sample so you could analyze it." I answered doping my gaze
"You could have stopped him." His mother almost yelled then
Yes I could but I did not, a decision that will haunt me for the rest of my days.
"I hope they will lock you up never to be seen or heard from again human." She spat with venom again.
Her words didn't hit like an accusation. They hit like a verdict. Like truth.
And the worst part was—I agreed with her. There was no defense I could offer her. No noble cause, no higher reasoning. Just the truth: I had chosen not to stop him. I had walked beside him knowing the risk, and now he was gone.
The punishment for trying to steal the metal was life imprisonment. I was glad that my mother was not here to see me. She will probably be notified back on Earth about what became of me. She was better off without me maybe she will get to live her own life next to a person who loved her and could support her not being burdened by someone like me.
A door opened, the door to my room and brightness blinded me again. My mind registered in a haze the silhouette of a young woman entering. She was the one who switched on the lights in my room as she came in. That's right... It's nighttime on Ohina. I must've been asleep, trapped again in that old nightmare that never quite lets go. I am in the present now, not in the past where the memories kept pulling me.
The woman rushed towards where I was sitting on the floor next to the bed. She knelt next to me and pulled me into a hug.
"Are you all right sunflower?"
"Illo…" her name came more like a sob from my lips.
"That nightmare again."
I nodded burring my head into her shoulder her long hair brushing my forehead.
"Let's go to the kitchen. I will make some tea and we can talk about this." She said in a shooting tone pulling me to my feet.
I did not stop to put on my psyclite exoskeleton trusting Illogena to guide me and provide support if needed. I tiptoed after her in the corridor and down the stairs trying to make as little noise as possible in order not to wake up Illogenna's parents. There was no need to worry them farther.
"There is no need for you to be so stealthy. There is no one in the house beside us. Mother and father are not back yet and Zint is out too." Illogena said squeezing my hand in reassurance as she lead me downstairs.
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Together with Illogenna I went into the kitchen on the ground floor. She started to make tea while I sat on one of the wooden chairs trying to gather my thoughts.
While I waited for Illogena to finish the tea I shifted in the chair feeling the wooden backrest pressing hard against my spine. It was a welcome and familiar pressure this time that reinforced the fact that I knew this house for years and I set in this kitchen time and again with the people living here.
A memory surfaced, unbidden.
❖
The chair in which I sat that day, seven years ago, in the interrogation room seemed cold and hard despite the fact that it was ergonomic. It was not unconformable to sit in but with its adjustable, articulated headrest and armrests that had clamps designed to secure one's hands was not exactly made to make someone feel at ease. It was built for control.
On the right armrest there was also a small control panel that was used by the two Ohinan that conducted my interrogation to input commands. At first I was terrified that they were going to induce pain or administer drugs but they explained they were only calibrating the monitoring systems. And no pain came only an onslaught of questions.
They asked me to recount every minute detail of the attempted theft — every step, every decision, every breath. A larger display blinked with lights, mounted on an articulated arm beside the chair. A lie detector, most likely. Not that I intended to lie.
One last thing that they asked me to do was to project various feelings towards a small surveillance drone which I did although I wondered what was the point since the drone was not organic therefore it could not feel anything.
Apparently finished with their questions the two Ohinans who conducted the interrogation stepped outside and I was left alone with only a surveillance drone for company. My fear about what will happen next was drawn into a waterfall of fatigue and sadness. There were so many dead people as a result of this event, they told me. The guards, some of the people inside the tower and Laatook, all dead.
❖
The sweet aroma of hot tea pulled me out of the memory into the present and my eyes focused on Illogenna who was putting a porcelain cup in front of me. Illogenna's fingers, gently circling my wrist, effectively grounded me back.
"How bad was it this time?" Illogenna asked sitting across for me holding her own cup of tea in both hands.
"Bad… but mostly disconcerting. I had that split inside the dream but it did not last long. I kept shifting my perspective. I kept merging with my other self."
She looked sad. We discussed this before. I had to detach myself from the events of the past and maybe the nightmares will end.
"Why do you cling to them so tightly?"
I did not answer.
"You are still thinking that my father had no reason to save you?"
"Yes…"
"Repeat to me what he told you that day." Illogenna demanded quietly.
The scent of tea swirled around me, but my mind was already slipping backward. Time seem to lose its consistency as I stared at nothing prompted by her words. The past bled out from the present.
❖
The door of the interrogation room opened again and the red haired Ohinan entered alone. He took a seat across from me and watched me for a few moments.
"You are aware that for your crime you should be incarcerated for life."
I nodded in silence.
"However you seem to have an affinity for pure psyclite which is an interesting characteristic for an alien. You managed to seal the access door to the ore deposit by manipulating the mineral inside with your wave bursts. In doing so you transformed the phasmodarium stored in there into psyclite. Many will want either to use you or kill you." He continued in the stretching silence.
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked rising my eyes to met his in confusion.
"You know how to use the pure metal something that Ohina keeps secret, therefore you are an asset for the people who want to steal the psyclite from us, including the people that you described during the interrogation. They will come for you."
What he was telling me was true. All the galaxy used only psyclite alloys. If the secret that I could manipulate the metal got out they will come after me. I could, in a twist of fate, end up working for the people who murdered my friend.
"You could lock me away in a very secure prison, under heavy guard. You will punish me according to the law and no one will get to me."
I was so sure they would sentence me. That I deserved it. I would accept it. Welcomed it, even. A life behind walls for an accursed decision I could never undo.
"Tell me. How long do you think you will survive in prison?"
"Why do you care?" I said dropping my gaze to the bland surface of the table in front of me. I deserved to be punished for leading my best friend to his death. What being in prison will do to me was only fitting and I did not think that he should care.
"Do you wish to die? Do you not wish to see these who did this to your friend get apprehended and punished?"
His question pierced through me, dredging up a wave of memories — Laatuuk laughing beside me in the Pinnacle lab… his hand on mine during our climb… the light fading from his eyes. For him, I would live. Even if some part of me believed I didn't deserve to.
"I do but why do you care?" I said out-loud.
"From what you have told us you did not stopped your friend's plans because you wanted him to realize his dreams. I thought you understood since you are a person who cares for the others. Would you prefer that I rather not care?" He spoke like someone who cared—genuinely—but there was steel under the kindness, and calculation behind the concern. I didn't know if that made me safer or more expendable.
"No." I said in a wiper. Deep down I wanted someone to care.
"You believe that you should be punished for what you did which is right and commendable for someone who trespasses the law however what are you projecting right now is more akin to a suicidal desire to shoulder all the blame and be accountable for all that happened which is not the case."
"People are dead because of me."
"This is not entirely true. You did not stop your friend from carrying out his plan which lead to his death. That is your burden to shoulder. But you did not not murder him and the other people that are dead are certainly not your fault. Your powers are not strong enough to affect the Ohinans in such a way as to kill them."
"What if my wave bursts were a catalyst for them to start kill each other."
"Your empathic powers are too week for such a feat. We measured both your range and projecting force when we asked you to concentrate your empathic pulses on the drone. You are within the range of a normal empath and none can make people kill each other nor can drive them mad."
He stopped for a few moments looking at me as if he expected a reaction but I felt so tired that even the relief that I felt at hearing his words died a quiet death in the ocean of self-loath in my mind.
"Besides, the guards and some of the people who died two days ago were poisoned." He continued in the stretching silence.
"Did you say poisoned?"
"Yes. We do not know by whom at the moment but we believe that it is all connected to the group of people who killed your friend."
"When I tried to feel the guards presence they felt as if their emotions were out of control. When you told me earlier that they are dead I thought that they died killing each other and that my empatic burst was to blame."
"We found a chemical substance in their blood which stimulated the pain receptors in their brain to such extent that they went mad. Your empathic bursts have no baring on why they died."
"Thank you." I said after breathing a sigh of relief.
"Now that a part of your self-inflicting pain seemed to have subsided I want you to pay very close attention to what I have to say next."
He leaned in holding my gaze.
"I will do everything in my power to bring the ones who are responsible for this to justice. Now, your duty is to witness this to the end as the one who survived this, for your friend and all the other people who died that day."
"I understand."
"If you want another more selfish reason for me deciding to help you I want you to consider that there is another aspect of this problem that I wish to avoid."
"How is it that I am a multi-faced problem?"
"Your affinity with the psyclite makes you a target not only for people from outside Ohina but from here as well. You can become a tool for someone here sooner or later, someone powerful enough to have you released from prison. I would like to prevent that."
"You make a strong case."
"You will not be put in prison, instead you will live with me and my family."
"What? Wouldn't that put them in danger?"
"No more than they already are. I have the resources to protect us. And implying otherwise would be... impolite," he said with a small smile.
"But still…"
"No one from outside of Ohina will know that you are not in prison and we guard our secrets very well."
That was true. No one outside Ohina knew very much about them or about the psyclite for that matter.
"How about the people from Ohina. The ones that you said would want to use me." I asked looking at him.
"They will jump at the opportunity to have a tool at their disposal, an alien with no connections and no means to protect herself. Therefore the ones who will know that you leave in my house will be extremely few. Having you there will mean a statement for my political rivals since they will see this like me snatching you from under their noses." He continued.
"I didn't realize I was part of a political chess game."
"One more thing. You will not be allowed to leave the property without my permission."
❖
A soft hand on my forearm pulled me out from the memory.
"I shouldn't have asked you to recall it so soon after the nightmare," Illogenna murmured. "You slipped too far back."
"You were right to ask. I needed to remember your father's words from that day."
And maybe, just maybe, I needed to remember that someone still believed in me.
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As the sound of soft footsteps reached my ears I started in my chair. Both Illogenna and me looked to the doorway to see a dark silhouette.
"Zint, where have you been?" Illogena asked her brother who stopped in his tracks startled.
He turned too look at both of us, his eyers glowing ambers in the shadows then he slowly took a few steps into the kitchen lingering near the door.
"In town, with friends." He answered curtly, his tone strained.
"You trained up to this hour haven't you?" Illogena countered voicing also my thoughts.
He said nothing only clenching his jaw. He was not going to admit anything to his sister but he was reluctant to lie to her face.
To my empathic senses he looked as if a burning halo was surrounding him from head to toes. This was the image I always associated with the eldest son of Crorzzia family, a burning storm that was going to consume everything in its path.
However, behind the intensity that was intrinsic to his personality I sensed pain coming from Zintrianus, no doubt from the training he was subjecting himself to. His pain was a pulsating beacon to me and after a few seconds I reached out to try and ease it. My psyonic burst was short targeting his right arm on which he had the metal brace with its seven diamonds. I caught hold of the burning pain and pulling from a memory of ice and snow I tried to diminish it as fast as I could before he noticed what I was doing.
"None of your business sister," he said in a tired tone then turning his attention to me he almost sneered, "You, stop acting like a Feeling Seeker."
I felt hurt by the comment but I could not ignore his suffering.
"You are in pain." I murmured dropping my gaze to the floor.
He pushed me out of his mind effectively barring my entrance with psyonic shields that felt like walls of fire.
"Brother, what are you trying to do?" Illogenna interjected drawing his attention form me to her.
"Better myself." His jaw tensed. For the smallest fraction of a second, something flickered in his amber eyes—something unsure, something haunted—but then it was gone, scorched away by the blaze of his resolve.
"By hurting yourself?"
"Enough, sister. Don't you think you have your work cut out for you? If I am to guess I would say she had another nightmare. Analyze her and stop worrying about what I do."
"Brother." This one word left Illogena's lips but the undercurrent of worry gave it the weight of a veiled threat. Her patient was running thin. I have never seen her like this before and I felt goosebumps all over my skin.
"Fine if you must know I have decided to apply for the position of Tower Guard." Zintrianus replied.
"No, no, you cannot do that." The words leapt out before I could catch them, raw and frantic. My hands trembled as I stepped toward him, driven by something deeper than fear—by the unbearable thought of another loss.
He shot me a piercing look that almost made me step back. In other circumstances I would have fled, but I could not do that now.
"You could get hurt! You could die! If the people from seven years ago return you can be poisoned and die. Please do not do this." I pressed on.
"Stop acting like a petulant child, human. I made my decision and I stand by it." He threw my way then he stormed out of the kitchen.
The door slammed behind him, and the silence he left behind rang louder than any scream.
"He always do this," I heard Illogena whispering, voice barely audible over the hum of the kitchen's ambient lights. "He always leaves."
"I have to talk to him, make him see reason…" I told Illogenna in a low voice without looking at her.
A soft incredulous snort escaped her lips followed by sigh.
Clenching my fists, I took a deep breath to steady myself, than I rushed after Zintrianus as fast as I could my hand brushing against the wall both for balance and guidance in the shadows from the corridor.
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There had been a moment, early on, when I thought I'd reached him—just for a breath—only to watch the connection recoil and twist into fury. I didn't understand why at the time, not fully. I'd only wanted to help. But on Ohina, uninvited emotional contact—wasn't just taboo. It was... indecent.
When he lost his temper he will lash out saying that I acted like a "Feeling Seeker", like a warning that was always there in his voice, tight with strain. The sharp edge of a boundary I should not dare cross.
I stood outside his door for several long seconds, trying to summon the courage to knock. It was barely ajar, light spilling out into the dim hallway like a silent invitation—or maybe a warning.
My heart pounded as I stood there, caught between the present and the past. I had come to talk him out of his reckless decision—to apply for the Tower Guard—but before I could actually knock, the memory struck like lightning.
The first time I ever stood in front of this door... seven years ago. The afternoon sun was casting dancing patterns on a corner of the wall, like small, ephemeral butterflies
I was still wearing the dull gray uniform of a detainee, my shoulders stiff with shame walking shy of the light. The High Governor—his father—had spared me from prison only hours before. I'd barely had time to understand why, let alone what it meant to live in the Crorzzia household. All I knew was that I had to pass by this room to reach mine.
The door had been open then. I caught a glimpse of Zintrianus inside— pacing. His aura was blazing. I could feel it from the hallway, seething in a whirl of gold and deep crimson. To my empathic senses, it was fury incarnate. A supernova on the verge of collapse.
I panicked.
He was angry. Probably about me—about this. About a stranger, a criminal, suddenly dropped into his home.
Before I could second-guess myself, I reached out with a soft, instinctive pulse—coolness, quiet, the sensation of snow falling gently in a winter forest. Just enough to offer calm. Not to intrude. Just to soothe.
The reaction was instant.
Zintrianus whipped around his gaze locking on me.
"What did you just do?" he demanded, stepping into the hallway, his amber eyes glowing like molten metal.
I froze. "I—I was just trying to help! You looked upset—angry—"
"I wasn't angry, I was thinking! And you - you touched my mind." His voice was barely more than a growl.
"I just felt how you were feeling and I thought maybe I could help—" I stammered, confused and terrified now.
"Oh no," came a new voice, warm with laughter. Illogenna leaned against the doorframe, her hand covering her mouth. "Zint, she actually caressed your emotions?!"
"What? I—I what?" My face flushed.
"You reached into his emotional field to soothe him," Illogenna said, biting back a grin. "You essentially stroked his nerves with your empathy. That's exactly what a Feeling Seeker does."
"I don't understand—why is that… bad? What did I do wrong?" My voice shook. I could feel his fury thickening the air.
Zintrianus turned away, shoulders rigid, fists clenched at his sides. I could feel it—his embarrassment was now eclipsing his fury. Radiating off him like solar flares. My small empathic burst had been like tossing a pebble into magma.
Looking in confusion at both of them, the uneasy feeling that I have done something I should not started creeping in.
"It was not my intention to offend…" I murmured.
"You didn't offend me," Illogenna giggled. "But he's mortified."
"You touched my mind without permission, like some kind of—of—" The young Ohinan spat, glaring over his shoulder looking moments away from igniting.
"Zintrianus," his father's voice cut through the chaos like a breeze dousing fire, "she didn't know."
"She should have!"
"She is not from Ohina."
"I—" I turned to the High Governor, feeling tears sting behind my eyes. "I really didn't mean— I thought he was angry—"
"You made a genuine mistake," he said gently. "But here, emotion is sacred."
Before I could even begin to process my mortification, Zintrianus' mother appeared, elegant and composed as ever.
"The term," she began with deliberate clarity, "Feeling Seeker, refers to those who engage in empathic exchange outside of bonded partnerships—specifically, for compensation. It is a service industry. Not illegal, but… socially undesirable."
Zintrianus muttered something under his breath, something I didn't catch.
"She tried to soothe you, brother," Illogenna said, her voice softer now, trying to walk him back from the edge. "You looked like you were going to explode. It was just a mistake."
"I didn't mean anything like that," I whispered, heat rising to my ears. "It was an accident. I swear."
"I believe you," his father said kindly. "But be cautious, child. On Ohina, emotion is not a public offering. It is sacred. Shared only in trust—within families, and within marriage."
My heart sank. "I'm sorry."
"You are forgiven," the High Governor said, his voice smooth but final. "But now you know."
Zintrianus glared at me one last time before storming past with the precision of a soldier and the wrath of a comet.
I stood there in the doorway, shrinking beneath the weight of cultural shame and first impressions gone catastrophically wrong.
A loud sound coming from Zintrianus' room startled me and the memory fled to hide like a scared rabbit in a very remote drawer of my memory. The darkness of the night anchoring me to the present
<
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The door creaked open with the faintest nudge, light spilling into the hallway like a hesitant sigh.
Zintrianus was sitting on the edge of his bed, his back to me, shirt discarded. His arms were wrapped in training wraps, darkened with sweat and flecks of dried blood. The metal brace glinted on his right arm, the embedded diamonds catching the low light like fire.
One of the corners of the bed rest was dented and fresh burn marks were marring the its surface.
I froze as a brief flash of him driving his fist engulfed in flame into the wood so hard it cracked.
His aura burned.
Not figuratively—literally. To my empathic senses, Zintrianus looked like a supernova barely contained in flesh and bone. A halo of crimson and searing gold surrounded him, pulsing with every breath.
"Zint?" I said softly. "Are you—"
"I did not give you permission to call me that."
Oh, right. I was not allow to be so familiar with him.
I stepped in cautiously, closing the door behind me.
"I'm not here to fight," I said quietly. "I just want to understand. And… maybe stop you from doing something incredibly reckless."
He didn't turn, but I could feel his attention shift.
"I meant what I said," he replied, his tone clipped. "My mind is made up."
I hesitated a moment, then spoke more firmly. "This isn't about pride or strength or pushing your limits. If the people who tried to steal the psyclite return—if they are already here—then the Tower Guard will be their first target. You could get hurt. You could die."
Still, he didn't turn.
"You're not invincible," I added, voice softer now. "I've already lost someone. I can't go through that again. Not with you."
At that, he turned, slowly. His amber gaze met mine, unreadable but fierce. His aura intensified separating us like a wall of fire.
"Stop acting and saying silly things human." He said in a measured tone that contrasted deeply with the intensity of his emotions.
"This is not silly." Narrowing my eyes, I countered. "You could die like all these people, seven years ago."
"I'm not going to die," he said, with a strange gentleness beneath the words. "This is for the good of the family."
"The High Command probably has agents embedded inside the Guard. And your father—he's the High Governor. He has more eyes and ears in that Tower than anyone else. You don't need to throw yourself into danger to do your part."
He arched a brow. "Exactly. Everyone knows he has agents. They'll expect spies. They'll expect watchers, whispers, couriers. What they won't expect is for him to send his own son."
I blinked.
"They won't see me coming," Zintrianus said. "They'll think I'm just some loyal idiot trying to make up for my family's shame. Let them believe it."
"That's not a comforting strategy," I muttered, crossing my arms.
"It's not meant to be comforting. It's meant to work."
I sighed, dragging my hands through my hair. "Then let's talk to your father first. If you're going to do this—and I still think it's a mistake—then we're doing it with his knowledge and his backing. Not just as some secret mission you launch on your own."
A pause. Then a slow nod. "All right."
"And I still think this is a terrible idea," I added, just to be clear.
He looked away, jaw tight, then stood up with a slow exhale. His aura dimmed slightly—not extinguished, but restrained.
"I've been thinking," he said, voice still taut. "You want to help. So… help me. While I'm inside the Guard, you can go through the old reports. The ones from seven years ago."
My brow furrowed. "Your father already looked through those. His analysts combed every page."
Zintrianus gave a soft, wry huff. "I know."
"Then what is it about?" I asked, crossing my arms again.
He didn't answer at first. His gaze drifted toward the window, where the moonlight framed the edge of his profile in silver. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than before.
"You're not sleeping."
My breath caught.
"You pace the halls at night," he continued, still not looking at me. "You don't eat much. You flinch when people raise their voices. You've been carrying that guilt around like chains. When father decided to bring you here he wanted to get you out of prison yet you made your own shackles."
The words hit harder than I expected. I didn't think he noticed.
"You think reading old reports will fix that?"
"No," he said. "But it might help."
Now he turned fully toward me. His amber eyes didn't burn this time—they just looked tired, and sincere.
"You'll sleep better if you feel useful," he said. "You'll stop blaming yourself. And if you do sleep, then Illogenna will too. You know how she worries."
I swallowed hard. "So… you're assigning me busywork."
"No," he said. "I'm giving you a way to breathe. You don't have to fix everything. But you deserve to feel like you're doing something. Even if it's just sifting through old papers."
The tears came before I realized they were falling. I reached up and wiped my face with a quick, shaking motion, but it was already too late. My chest hitched with a sob.
"I don't—" I swallowed hard. "I don't deserve that kind of kindness."
He frowned. "That's a stupid thing to say."
"I thought you didn't care," I said, voice cracking.
He moved toward me, stopping just short of touching me. "Don't cry," he said, awkwardly. "Seriously, don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry."
But I couldn't stop. Every attempt to choke it down made it worse.
Zintrianus looked panicked now, as if facing a wild, ancient spell no one had warned him about. "If Illo hears this, she's going to think I said something awful to you and storm in here looking like a Whirling Claw."
My mind conjured the image of the Ohinan climbing plant with amber leaves that looked like barbed, curved blades and than it superimposed this over Illogenna's image. A wet laugh broke through my sobs.
"I'm serious," he said, a bit more smug now when he noticed that his words were working. "You know how she gets when she thinks someone's hurt you. You'll be crying and I'll be entangled in Illo's vines and no one will be happy."
The laugh turned into a hiccup, then more laughter. I wiped my face again, sniffling hard. "You're terrible at comfort."
He tilted his head, folding his arms with a touch of pride. "And yet… effective."
"I don't know if what you are proposing will help," I murmured finally, my inner turmoil calming down.
"Maybe not," he said. "But it won't hurt."
Something shifted in his expression. The fire behind his eyes was still there, but it wasn't aimed at me anymore. It felt like standing near a hearth instead of a wildfire.
"Thank you," I said softly.
"You should start using that head of yours, instead of cowering in the shadows, silly." He added lightly giving me a flick on the forehead.
"Ow. It hurts." I pouted pressing my hand on the spot. The sting was there but it felt right, in a way, like the beginning of a bond with a overbearing big brother.
"It should." Zintrianus countered with a wide grin.