"Next in line?"
Lida smiled faintly. "Yeah, I was a little surprised too when I found out yesterday."
Ria shrugged, seemingly unfazed by the revelation. "It's not that big of a deal," she said, taking another bite of her waffle. "Just a fancy title."
The respectful nods, the urgent summons, Vizi practically groveling—it all suddenly clicked into place.
"Wait… so Crescent is currently led by…?"
"Adira… Ria's mother," Lida supplied.
Mark felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. This is getting way out of hand.
"So," Lida said, her tone laced with curiosity, "any idea what Adira wants to talk to you about so urgently?"
"I don't know," Ria replied with a sigh. "She tends to overreact sometimes. Makes a big deal out of nothing."
"I'll give her that."
Ria's head snapped up. "Wait, You know my mom?"
"We've met a few times," Lida explained. "We're not exactly close, but we've crossed paths in the past. Business, mostly. Adira has… a strong presence, let's say. Crescent's traditions can be challenging to navigate."
Ria raised an eyebrow. "You mean she's stubborn."
"Not the word I would use," Lida replied diplomatically, though the slight quirk of her lips betrayed amusement.
Mark, meanwhile, was still trying to wrap his head around everything. He felt like someone had dropped him into the middle of a movie halfway through.
"Hold on," he interrupted, his brain catching up to the conversation. "So, does this mean we're, like, having breakfast with royalty or something?"
Lida smirked. "Kind of, yeah."
"Oh, please," Ria scoffed, rolling her eyes. "They are just ceremonious if you ask me. Just some old bygone traditions. My mom likes to hang onto them. The whole 'next in line' thing is more of a formality than anything else."
"Still…. in this world, those 'bygone traditions,' as you call them, still hold a lot of weight. People tend to take lineage and leadership seriously. And Crescent… well, let's just say they take their traditions very seriously. They value their history, their hierarchy."
"That's their problem, not mine."
"Maybe," Lida said, tilting her head. "But pretending it's nothing won't make it go away, does it?"
"Whatever," Ria said, getting up. "More waffles, anyone?"
Mark stared at her retreating figure, his mind still reeling. Her mother runs Crescent. Next in line. What the actual fuck?
Lida watched him, her eyes narrowed slightly. "You're awfully calm about this."
He shrugged, trying to appear more nonchalant than he felt. "It's definitely… something. But honestly, I'm used to it."
"Used to what?"
"Well, you know… This whole secrecy thing. You also never tell me anything anyway. I practically need a crowbar to pry any information out of you! I've learned to pick my battles. It's kinda our thing at this point, right?"
"I'm just trying to pro—"
"Protect me, I know," he said, cutting her off before she could launch into another one of her 'it's for your own good' speeches.
Guilt flickered across Lida's face, and Mark instantly regretted his sharp tone.
He didn't want to fight with her, not today. He'd come here to celebrate, to cheer her up, not to rehash old arguments.
"Just leave it, Lida. It's fine. Really. It's a lot to take in, sure, but it's not like knowing about it changes anything, right? Let's just enjoy our breakfast. We can argue about all this other stuff later."
"Right," Lida said, smiling softly. "Always the peacemaker."
"Well, I had a good teacher," he grinned, getting up to refill his plate.
Mark surveyed the buffet table, piling his plate high with a second round of bacon, sausage, and a fluffy Belgian waffle that was calling his name. He spotted Ria in the dessert section, her plate practically overflowing with a mountain of pastries, cakes, and what looked suspiciously like a slice of pecan pie.
"Seriously, Ria? You're going into a sugar coma."
"Hey, I need my sugar rush in the morning," she said, grabbing a strawberry tart. "Want one?"
"This isn't a rush," he said, his eyes widening at the sheer amount of sugar on her plate. "This is a full-blown sugar invasion."
"Don't judge my dietary choices," she said, popping the tart into her mouth. "Besides, these are freshly baked, made with locally sourced ingredients."
Mark rolled his eyes as she hummed happily.
"All that sugar can't be good for you."
"Don't worry about me. I have a fast metabolism. It all goes straight to my genius brain."
"Genius brain, huh?" He chuckled. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
"Of course. It takes a lot of brainpower to be this awesome."
"Right… Because 'awesome' and 'genius' are synonymous."
"They are in my world," Ria retorted, offering him another tart. "Try it. It'll change your life."
He bit into it, his eyes widening slightly. "Hmm, not bad."
"See? Told ya."
"Still, pace yourself. You don't need all that sugar." He reached for a chocolate croissant, but she swatted his hand away.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"I don't share my sweets. Be grateful I gave you a tart."
"So this is how royalty behaves, huh? Self-entitled, stingy with the desserts…"
Ria's smile faltered. "Wait, are you mad at me?"
"Mad? No, not mad. Just… surprised. I wish you'd told me, that's all."
"I thought about it," Ria admitted, her voice softening. "But you were so freaked out about the bond, I didn't know how you'd react to this, too."
She has a point. Mark remembered his initial reaction, the fear, the confusion, the urge to run. He'd been a mess.
"It's fine, Ria," he said, reassuring her. "I get it. But… are you really, like, royalty or something?"
"No!" She rolled her eyes. "I told you, it's just a title. A formality. It doesn't mean anything."
"I don't know," he said, eyes sparkling. "I can totally see you as one. Bossing people around, demanding insane things…"
"Seriously?"
"What? I think it suits you."
"You're ridiculous."
"Case in point," he said, gesturing at her mountain of desserts. "See how stingy you are with your desserts? Totally royalty behavior."
"Go get your own," she said, pointing towards the buffet. "But these," she added, "are off-limits."
And with that, she turned and headed back to their table, her mouth already full of another pastry.
Mark chuckled, shaking his head. He grabbed a clean plate and made his way to the buffet, his appetite returning now that the initial shock had worn off.
As he piled his plate high with bacon, eggs, and a suspiciously large number of pastries, his mind kept circling back. Next in line…
What does that even mean? She said it was just a title, a formality, but was it really? Titles didn't come without expectations. Responsibilities.
What does it even mean, practically speaking? Will it affect me? And what about her mother, this Adira woman? What's she like?
He wanted to believe Ria when she said it didn't matter. That it wouldn't change anything. But deep down, he wasn't so sure.
He took a bite of his waffle, the sugary sweetness doing little to quell the nagging doubts still swirling in his head. For now, he let them drift to the background, focusing instead on the comfortable hum of conversation. Whatever Crescent meant for Ria—and for him—he'd face it when the time came.
By the time he returned to the table, Ria and Lida were bent over Ria's phone, their heads close together.
"What are you two plotting?"
"Just showing Lida some dresses I'm thinking of buying," Ria explained, tilting the phone so he could see.
Mark glanced at the screen, his eyes widening as he saw the price tag. "Damn, that's expensive."
"It is," Ria shrugged, "but it's silk, hand embroidered. It's an investment."
"An investment in what, exactly? Your ability to bankrupt yourself?"
She simply rolled her eyes, swiping to the next picture, showing a pair of strappy heels. "I was thinking of pairing it with these. What do you think?"
"Yeah, looks good."
"Good? That's all you have to say? Good?"
"What else am I supposed to say?" Mark asked, his mouth full of waffles. "They're shoes, Ria. They look good."
Both women exchanged a look, and Lida shook her head dramatically.
"What?" he protested. "I said they looked good!"
They just smiled and went back to scrolling through the dresses, their shared amusement a silent conspiracy that excluded him.
Their breakfast spread vanished in no time, plates wiped spotless, their bellies content and satisfied. Mark paid the bill and followed the two women out into the crisp morning air, the chatter of the restaurant fading behind them.
"That was amazing, guys," Ria said, her eyes sparkling. "Thanks."
"It was our pleasure," Lida replied. "We should do this again sometime."
"I'd love that."
"Maybe next time we should tell the restaurant to hide the desserts," he said, nudging Ria playfully. "They'll go bankrupt if you keep coming back for seconds."
"Oh, shut up."
"Mark!" Lida scolded, "Be nice."
Ria stuck her tongue out at him, then looped her arm through Lida's, a grin on her face. "Ha! Take that."
"Seriously, you two," he chuckled. "I'm starting to feel a little outnumbered here."
"Get used to it, buddy," Ria teased. "It's two against one now."
He smiled, watching the two of them. It was strange, how quickly Ria had settled into his life—and how easily she and Lida got along like they'd known each other for years.
Mark grinned as he opened the car door for Lida.
"So," he asked, once they were all settled in, "Any other plans for today?"
"I need to do a little shopping," Ria said. "Still have a few things I need to get."
"Sounds good," he replied, starting the car. "Lida, you want to come?"
"Actually, I have a few errands to run."
"You sure?" he asked, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.
"I'm sure. You two enjoy yourselves," she met his gaze with a small smile.
She didn't elaborate, but the way her fingers tapped lightly against the armrest told Mark it wasn't just groceries or dry cleaning.
"Alright, we'll drop you off first, then."
The drive back was a breeze, filled with the kind of easy chatter that didn't demand his full attention. Mark let the sound of Ria and Lida's voices wash over him, a warmth spreading through his chest.
It was a calm, peaceful morning, a welcome change from all the crazy stuff lately. I could get used to this. He enjoyed the simple normalcy of it all, the quiet drive, the easy conversation - the simple joy of being with people who mattered.
He glanced at Ria, her face lit with laughter, and Lida, her expression soft with contentment.
More days like this, he prayed.
Mark had never been great at the whole "found family" thing. Losing his parents so young had left him wary of letting people in. But for the first time in a long while, he felt… at home.
* * *
Life with Ria was… surprisingly domestic.
It had been three weeks since she'd moved in, and she'd already taken over half his closet and most of the counter space in bathroom. But Mark wasn't complaining.
Dinner dates at that hole-in-the-wall Thai place Ria loved, movie nights where they'd make out in the back row (and sometimes a little more than just making out), lazy afternoons spent exploring the hidden trails in the mountains outside of town, introducing Ria to his friends, her fitting in effortlessly with his crew, her easy laughter and quick wit charming even Ron, who usually treated all of Mark's girlfriends with a healthy dose of skepticism.
It was the first serious relationship he'd ever had, and despite the occasional flicker of doubt – Is this real? Or is it just the bond? – he was enjoying the ride.
All the things he'd worried about – awkward silences, clashing lifestyles/personalities, whole living-together thing – hadn't materialized.
It was surprisingly easy, natural like they were two pieces of a puzzle that had finally found their place.
Even Lida seemed to approve, the three of them falling into a comfortable rhythm of shared meals, going on outings, and the occasional shopping trip where Mark would patiently hold their bags while they debated the merits of different shades of lipstick.
He'd learned a lot from Ria about the supernatural world, too – the hierarchy of the associations, the different types of magic, the unwritten rules that governed their society.
Most of it was stuff he'd pieced together over the years, whispers and rumors Lida had tried to shield him from, but hearing it from Ria, seeing it through her eyes, it all clicked into place, a complex tapestry of power, tradition, and centuries-old rivalries.
But the shadow of Elia still lingered, a constant reminder that their happiness was fragile. The bastard was still out there, somewhere, and Crescent, despite their resources and influence, hadn't been able to find him. Lida suspected he had help, someone powerful enough to shield him from the association's scrutiny.
And then there was the matter of his own powers, his mother's legacy.
He'd been pestering Lida relentlessly about his powers, about his heritage, about his need to learn more, to become stronger. I can't keep living in the dark. He'd argued, pleaded, even threatened to go behind her back and seek out answers on his own.
Lida, as usual, had resisted, her protective instincts battling against his growing need for independence, for knowledge.
* * *
Mark stood by the window, the city lights a distant blur, his mind churning with restless energy. He and Lida had just finished another round of their ongoing debate.
"At least tell me more about my abilities," he pressed, his voice laced with a quiet desperation. "Even if it's dangerous, knowing how it works, how to control it… that's gotta be better than stumbling around in the dark, right?"
"You have to understand, Mark. Your abilities… they're not just a gift—"
"I get it, Lida. I do. But that's exactly why I need to know more. If I don't understand what I'm capable of, how can I protect myself? Protect you? Ria?"
Her lips pressed into a thin line. For some time she did not say anything.
Finally, she exhaled, the sound heavy with resignation. "Alright."
His heart leaped. Holy shit, she agreed. He hadn't expected her to give in so easily. This was a breakthrough. While he wasn't ready to dive headfirst into everything, the chance to learn more about his powers, about his mother's legacy, was a step in the right direction.
"There might be someone who can help you," she continued, her voice thoughtful. "An old… friend of mine. Julian. He's… eccentric, to say the least, but he's knowledgeable."
"Where can I find him?"
"He travels a lot," she explained, "but he's in town for a few weeks. He owns a shop downtown. It's… a bit unusual, but you'll find him there."
Julian. He filed the name away in his memory. "I'll go first thing tomorrow."
"Be careful, Mark. I've told you before, there are people who wouldn't hesitate to exploit your abilities, to use you. Julian is trustworthy, but—"
"I know, I know," he interrupted, eager to escape her usual lecture. "I'll be careful. I'll keep a low profile."
Lida let out a soft sigh, her face a mix of worry and resignation. She knew him too well - his stubbornness and impulsiveness. All she could do was hope that he'd actually heed her warnings, for his own good.
Mark stood by the window long after Lida had retreated to her room, the dim glow from the neighborhood lights dancing on the glass. His thoughts swirled.
Tomorrow, he'd take the next step.
Still, his excitement was tempered by a knot of unease. He'd been pushing for this, practically begging Lida forever, but now that he had a lead, the weight of what it might mean was hard to ignore.
What if he didn't like what he found? What if his powers were more dangerous than he imagined? No.
He shoved those thoughts aside.
Answers were better than ignorance. They have to be.
* * *
The next morning, Mark practically bounced out of bed. After dropping Ria off at college, he headed straight downtown, Lida's directions imprinted in his mind. Finally, some answers. A nervous excitement buzzed in his veins, a mix of anticipation and apprehension.
What if he doesn't know anything? He pushed the doubts aside, focusing on the sliver of hope that this meeting might offer some clarity, some direction.
He found the shop, tucked away in a quiet alleyway, its storefront painted in shades of deep blue and purple, the windows shrouded by heavy curtains. It looked more like a fortune teller's den. This is it?
Mark swung open the door and was immediately hit by a weird scent – a mix of incense, dried herbs, and something metallic that tickled his nose.
The shop was crammed with an eclectic assortment of objects - dusty books, strange artifacts, and bizarre taxidermied creatures that seemed to stare at him with glassy eyes. What the hell is this place?
"Can I help you?"
He turned to see a small figure standing behind a cluttered wooden counter. A girl, no older than twelve, with a cascade of curly black hair and eyes that sparkled like emeralds in the dim light. She wore a pair of worn jeans, a simple t-shirt, and a bright red jacket that looked several sizes too big.
A child running the shop? Seriously?
As he got closer, he noticed her teeth were slightly pointed, like a cat's. Okay, that's a little creepy.
"Uh… yeah, I'm looking for Julian."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"Not really," he admitted. "Lida sent me."
"Lida?" She opened a thick, leather-bound register and began flipping through the pages, her fingers tracing a long list of names.
Mark shifted awkwardly, wondering how long this was going to take. Seriously, a kid with an appointment book? What is this, 1899?
Finally, the girl looked up. "Follow me."
"Uh, sure."
He trailed behind her, uneasy under the weight of her piercing gaze. For a kid, she had a way of making him feel small.
His eyes darting around, taking in the bizarre collection of objects. This place is like a museum of weirdness. Shriveled herbs hung from the ceiling, dusty books lined shelves that bowed under their weight, and glass cases displayed objects that looked like they belonged in a horror movie.
He saw a jar filled with what looked suspiciously like eyeballs, a stuffed two-headed snake, and a collection of antique surgical instruments that made him shudder. This is seriously so damn creepy.
As they passed a row of shelves filled with strange objects, the girl glanced over her shoulder, her pointed teeth flashing in a brief, mischievous grin. "You're braver than you look, coming here without an appointment."
"Why? Should I be worried?"
Her grin widened. "That depends. Are you the kind of guy who asks questions he's not ready to hear the answers to?"
He opened his mouth to reply, but she stopped abruptly in front of a door, pushing it open without another word.
The back room was dimly lit, the air thick with the same musty scent as the shop. Bookshelves lined the walls, reaching from floor to ceiling, their spines cracked and faded with age.
In the center of the room sat a massive, ornate desk, covered in a chaotic assortment of papers, books, and more strange objects. Behind the desk, slumped in his chair, a thin, wiry man with a wild mane of white hair was fast asleep, his head resting on a pile of open books.
The girl marched over to the desk and slammed her hand down on the surface, the sound echoing in the quiet room. The man jolted awake, his head snapping up.
"Luna! How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?" he grumbled, his voice raspy with sleep.
Luna simply grinned, revealing those pointed teeth again, and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her.
The man stretched, yawning loudly. He ran a hand through his unruly hair, his gaze finally focusing on Mark. "So, who the hell are you?"
"Uh… Mark," he stammered, feeling a bit off balance. "Lida sent me."
"Ah, Lida. She said you'd be coming."
He got up and walked towards Mark, his gaze intense, unsettlingly sharp. He leaned in close, studying Mark's face, his eyes like a hawk's.
Mark instinctively tipped back, a little unnerved by the scrutiny.
"You're David's son, aren't you?"
"Y-yes."
"I should have known," Julian smiled, settling back into his chair. "You have that fucker's face."
Fucker? "You knew my dad?"
"Oh yeah…" Julian chuckled. "He was a fun person to be around. Worked on a lot of projects together, back in the day.
"W-what projects?"
"Alchemy, mostly. We were both fascinated by it. Spent hours in his basement lab, mixing potions, experimenting with different formulas… Good times."
"My dad was into alchemy?"
"Oh, yeah. He was a man of many interests. Always exploring, always learning. A true Renaissance man. A thirst for knowledge, a hunger for adventure…Sarah too, in her own way. They were a force of nature, those two."
Alchemy? Seriously? Mark was struck again by how little he knew about his parents, about their lives before him.
He had these vague, idealized images of them, frozen in time—his father teaching him to ride a bike, his mother's gentle smile as she read to him at bedtime. Those memories felt so small now, so ordinary, compared to the larger-than-life picture Julian was painting.
"So, you're here about your… abilities, right?"
"Uh, y-yeah," Mark replied, snapping back to the present. "Lida said you could help me."
Julian leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head. "This is a tricky one," he mused. "Show me what you can do. Let's see how this Void stuff works."
Mark nodded and summoned a blade.
Julian's eyes widened slightly as the blade shimmered into existence, its faint blue glow casting eerie shadows across the room. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered, leaning forward.
Taking the blade from Mark, he examined it closely, running his fingers along its ethereal edges with a mix of curiosity and bit of awe.
Then, he passed it back.
"Is that all you can do?" Julian asked as Mark dispelled the blade. "Just blades?"
"I can also create shields…. And I can shape the energy into different forms – daggers, swords, spears – but nothing too complex. I can't, like, form a gun or anything."
Julian steepled his fingers, his brow furrowing as he studied Mark. "That's… quite unusual."
"What's so unusual about it?"
"From what know, Void is supposed to be about absence. A null field. A zone where ether and energy simply… cease to exist. What you're doing is something entirely different. You're creating with Void. That shouldn't be possible."
Mark frowned. "Why not?"
"Because Void isn't supposed to give anything. It's a force of negation. What you're doing…" He hesitated as if searching for the right words. "It's like making fire out of ice. The rules don't apply. And that, my friend, makes you very interesting."
"Have you met anyone else? With abilities like mine?"
"Apart from Sarah…. There was one other. A long time ago."
"Where is he now?"
"Dead."
Great. Just great. Mark felt a wave of frustration wash over him.
Another dead end.
Another unanswered question.
He had so many questions, about his mother, about Void, about this mysterious other mage, but he held back. He didn't want to overwhelm the old man, not yet.
"You're a rare breed, Mark," Julian continued, his gaze thoughtful. "A mage with Voidness. I'm surprised Lida managed to keep you hidden for so long."
She'd probably bury me alive before anyone finds out.
"Is it really that big of a deal?"
"Hybrids are rare, to begin with," he explained. "But the combination you possess, the sheer duality of it… it's practically unheard of. Trust me, it's huge. If the council ever got wind of it, they'd have their best hunters after you in a heartbeat."
"Why? It's not like I've done anything wrong."
"It's not about what you've done… it's about what you represent."
"What the hell does that even mean?"
Julian sighed, swinging his legs up onto his desk, "Imagine a bunch of countries, all armed with missiles. It's a level playing field, right? They're constantly jockeying for power, playing a dangerous game of one-upmanship. Then, suddenly, one country develops anti-missile technology. The balance of power shifts dramatically. The other countries, they're not going to be happy about it. They'll do whatever it takes to neutralize that threat, to regain their advantage."
"But it's not like we're at war."
Julian laughed, a dry, rasping sound. "Kid, in this world, there's always a war. A war for power, for control. It's just hidden beneath the surface, lurking in the shadows."
"Still seems like an overreaction."
"Not really. Void Mages…historically, they haven't exactly been a stabilizing force. Pretty disruptive if you ask me. They're feared… misunderstood. And considering how they came into being, the experiments, the atrocities… it makes sense. And the council, well, they don't like anything that threatens their control. There was one in the 1800s—a guy named Alric. He figured out how to cancel out spells before they were even cast. Do you know what that kind of power does in a room full of mages?"
Mark shook his head.
"It makes everyone nervous. And nervous people do stupid things. Alric didn't last long—the council then, tracked him down, burned him alive. Claimed it was self-defense."
"So, you're saying I'm destined for the same thing?"
"I am saying I get their perspective. Preemptively eliminating any potential threats makes sense to me."
"So why the hell are you helping me?"
"Oh, trust me, kid. I'm this close to strapping you to my operating table and dissecting you, just to figure out how the hell your body manages to contain such opposing forces. The sheer curiosity is killing me."
Mark stared at him, unsure whether to be amused or terrified. This guy is seriously creepy.
Julian burst out laughing. "Relax, I'm just kidding. Mostly." He leaned back in his chair, a more serious expression settling on his face. "Lida and I go way back. I owe her quite a lot. Besides…" He paused, amusement flickering in his eyes. "you're a fascinating case study. A walking paradox. I'm curious to see how this plays out."
He has a terrible sense of humor. Mark took a deep breath, trying to absorb everything. He had never really considered his abilities to be anything special, let alone dangerous. A threat to the whole damn system. Seriously?
"So, what exactly makes me so dangerous? Just the fact that I can, like, negate stuff?"
"That's part of it," Julian conceded. "But it's the duality that really throws things off balance. You're a mage and a Void. Those two things shouldn't coexist in one. If you ever learned to fully control your Void side… well, let's just say you'd be a force to be reckoned with. You could in theory counteract any attack. And that, is a dangerous proposition, especially in the wrong hands. Not to mention all the rumors and myths that surround your kind."
My kind. What does that even mean? Mark's mind was a whirlwind of questions. He barely knew anything about Void Mages, about his own heritage. He was starting to realize just how deep this rabbit hole went.
His thoughts shifted, returning to a question that had haunted him for years. Does any of this have to do with my parents? With their deaths?
It seemed likely, but he still didn't have any concrete proof, any real answers. The questions lingered, a constant shadow at the edge of his thoughts, a puzzle he was desperate to solve.
Mark took a long breath, attempting to sort through the messy tangle of thoughts and feelings bouncing around in his head. Void. Hybrid. Dangerous. Threat. So much to figure out.
"So, how do we start?"
"I don't think traditional methods will work for you," Julian said, his brow furrowed in thought. "We'll need a more… tailored approach. A personalized plan."
"What kind of… plan?"
"First, we assess your aptitude. Run some tests, some exercises. See what you can do, what your strengths and weaknesses are. Then, I'll develop a training program that focuses on honing your abilities, on helping you control that… duality."
"I'm ready. Let's—"
"Hold your horses, kid," Julian chuckled, raising a hand. He got up and retrieved a thick, leather-bound book from one of the shelves and placed it on the desk, its spine cracked and worn. "Read this. Then come back... in three days."
Mark picked up the book, flipping through the pages. The text was dense, filled with strange symbols.
"What is this?"
"It's a… history of sorts. A collection of memoirs, observations, and theories about Void. Not exactly a textbook, but it'll give you some perspective."
"What's the point of reading this? I'm not here for a history lesson."
"Trust me… This will help. It'll give you context, understanding. And it might even answer a few of your questions. Who knows, you might even find it… interesting."
Mark sighed. History. Great. He wasn't exactly thrilled about the prospect of spending his free time reading some old stories, but he could tell Julian wasn't giving him a choice.
"Got it."
"Luna!" Julian called out.
Suddenly, the girl appeared beside Mark, as if she'd materialized out of thin air. He stumbled back, startled, nearly losing his balance.
Julian chuckled. "Don't mind her. She has a way of sneaking up on people."
"Right," Mark muttered, still a bit shaken. "Thanks for the warning."
He followed Luna out, the weight of the book a heavy presence in his hand.
This is it, he thought, as he made his way back through the labyrinthine shop. This is my only chance to find some answers.
No matter how strange or unsettling this path seemed, he knew he had to follow it, to uncover the secrets of his past, to embrace the power that pulsed within him, to finally confront the darkness that had haunted him for so long.