“Jonas!”

And thus it was that this strange but beautiful woman jumped into me with wide open arms. She was sobbing with red eyes that were swollen and with tears flowing down her cheeks. That was what I saw before she launched herself at me. The chair, weak and narrow, creaked and broke, and we both fell onto the hazel-colored carpet. The maddened Warden Regalla wrapped her arms around my neck and let her entire weight bear down on me.

I felt her soft hair caress my lips and cheeks, and having no self-control, she placed a few frantic kisses on my neck. The warmth of her kisses lingered, and she smelled of something sweet and familiar. She kept repeating, half-sobbing as she did so, the word Jonas repeatedly.

“By Iscia, Jonas. It’s really you!” she cried, but only so I could hear. It was the strangest thing—when she said the word Jonas, it stirred a faint recognition from somewhere deep. Like a cry in the distance amidst a heavy wind, but I could not make sense of it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before, but I couldn’t believe it. I felt something was wrong for days now, but I couldn’t understand. Oh, look at you, you must be freezing,” she said and threw her dark-yellow coat around me. Even that smelled of her and I felt a strange comfort come over me.

We only had a moment before the Lord Commander and Captain Dion reacted.

“Warden Regalla!” Lord Commander Verrier shouted after getting over his surprise. “By Eki, what are you doing?”

He took a step forward and tried pulling the woman off me, but his grip lacked strength and the effort he put in was only slight. “Help me get her off,” he said to Sofia.

With their combined strength, they pulled the crazed Warden off me and, rather forcefully, sat her down on the red padded chair while I stayed standing covered in her coat, which was too small for me. Ardovar ran and lit the fireplace with little trouble, and handed her a glass of water. Sofia Dion meanwhile had raised her sword and held it against my chest, daring me to move and watching with wicked eyes.

“You put a spell on her!” she declared to the room. “Ardovar, she’s bewitched!”

The Lord Commander put the glass away, kneeled in front of the Warden, and grabbed her hands in his. A soft wind passed me, and I understood he was trying to sense what was wrong with the suddenly crazed woman. But she was not paying attention to him at all and was instead staring at me with wide disbelief.

After a moment, she suddenly looked up, withdrew her hands almost in disgust, and said loudly: “I’m fine, Ardovar! I’m not under a spell!”

She jumped up and ran back to me, as if she was protecting me from the other three, and kept rubbing her hands into her shirt as if cleaning them.

“What is the meaning of this? Get away from this savage!” Ardovar said and, with bewildered eyes, stepped closer.

“Ardovar,” Warden Regalla said with some strength and confidence returning, “I know him. This is my Jonas!”

“I don’t understand.”

It was then I felt a weakness in my knees; my legs shook, and I fell into her arms. She grabbed a hold of me and held me up like I weighed nothing, but I felt the nervousness that was in her arms, and an ever-growing excitement radiating off of her, which she was trying to contain.

“Ardovar, this man is… he is…” she stuttered, but could not finish.

“Warden, please sit down and regather your mind. He has put you under a spell. I shall deal with him as soon as you get out of my way.”

“I’m not under a spell!” she said again, this time with even more resistance, but she was pleading and without strength behind it. “I know him. He’s my Jonas! He’s the Jonas who disappeared all those years ago.”

She held my waist, and from under her coat absent-mindedly, I thought, her fingers gently stroked my skin so nobody could see. That felt strange… but not at all uncomfortable. She then turned, looked right at me with her green and teary eyes, and asked: “Do you recognize me, Jonas?”

“No,” I replied dryly, not knowing whether I should explain. Her expression fell, but only for a moment.

“Are you sure?”

“No.”

I told her a half-truth. While I did not know who she was in the slightest, there were many things that I felt were odd. I had a recognition over the medallion, that I knew for sure. And her perfume stirred faint memories of something I knew I once knew… if that made any sense. It felt like those pieces all fit together in some way, but I could not explain it. And most importantly, I had to confess—her touch on my skin felt wonderful and her warmth still lingered. That was the only way I could explain it.

“Warden, I think it’s better if you go and rest. I think the Rasker case upset you more than you told us. Nasty business, that was,” Ardovar said. “We can handle him. Please…”

“No!” she said. Stern and cold and full of determination, this time with no hesitation.

“Philemon!” Florencia then turned to the dean, who was standing still like a statue and smoothing the lapels of his jacket while looking out of the window. “You were there, Philemon. On the day that…”

But Philemon Petridies was silent.

“Florencia,” he said slowly. “That was forty years ago. Jonas is dead. We saw him die before us. This can’t be him. Ardovar is right, he put a spell on you. He is strong in magic. In his mind, the creature…”

“Florencia, please, move aside and go and rest,” Ardovar said and walked forward. Alongside him came Captain Dion, who pointed the tip of her sword toward my toes, almost dragging it across the carpet. But her eyes met the Warden’s, who gave her the meanest glare that could freeze any man in their steps. The Captain halted.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“If you come a single step closer, Sofia, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Sofia hissed but stepped back.

“Warden!” Ardovar said in a calming tone, while not very well hiding his inner agitation. “Captain Dion is your superior officer!”

“As a High Warden, I only answer to you,” Warden Regalla said to the Lord Commander. “And to Philemon.”

While the three were arguing over who was in the right, I thought whether it was smart for me to go along with the crazy Warden. She seemed so sure of herself that I doubted if I should believe her or not. She seemed to recognize me and was so certain of it. And even if I didn’t play along with her, there was not much I could do for myself. The Lord Commander and his lackey Sofia were set on breaking my mind, and Warden Regalla was the only one who might stop it.

I thought I could, with some effort, dispose of either Ardovar or Captain Dion, but not both, so it had to be Sofia. She had been pointing that sword of hers around too many times that I started feeling a particularly strong dislike toward her. Ardovar Verrier, I thought, wasn’t much of a physical opponent, and Philemon’s mind was too lost for the moment because of what he saw in my mind. But I knew those thoughts were fantasies—I could barely stand, let alone walk. Captain Dion would most definitely thrust her sword deep into my chest before I could make the smallest of moves against her or Ardovar. My chance of escape would be cut short.

But even the fantasy of escape was destroyed when my legs gave out, and I fell on the floor with a heavy thump. I hit my hipbone against the hard carpet and cried out weakly.

“Jonas, you’re hurt!” Florencia cried out, seemingly only now noticing the sad state I was in. “We must get you to a healer!”

“No! No, under no circumstances will this man leave this room, save only for the prison cell. Warden Regalla, please, let me loosen his spell over you,” Ardovar said.

“I already told you I’m under no spell, Ardovar,” she said, and the room fell cold and all sound ceased. I felt a heavy weight drag on my heart and a pressure behind my eyes. The two looked at each other and I heard faint echoes in my mind. One was low and booming, while the other… most excited, but under control. “Ardovar, I know him. This is my Jonas. When have I ever acted rashly or carelessly? And Philemon, you were there on that day. Jonas disappeared, he didn’t die. The shadow consumed him and he disappeared!”

“Florencia,” the dean then said, taking a step toward us. He seemed to have overcome his defeat inside my mind. “Jonas died. I’m sorry, but he’s gone. When will you accept it?”

“No!” Florencia said calmly. “I told you this many times. I knew he wasn’t dead. For thirty-six years I had known. Philemon, please, look at him and remember back to the day.”

“This… This is most strange,” Ardovar said in defeat and I could sense a growing struggle within him. He wanted to dislike me, but his soft spot for the Warden was as great, if not greater. “Florencia, in the many years we’ve worked together, you have never acted this way. What you’re saying cannot be true. Jonas’ disappearance was studied extensively, and a conclusion was settled. But…”

Ardovar Verrier exhaled loudly and at length, sat down on the red padded chair, waved his hand toward the fireplace, and two logs fell on the coals. Sofia Dion kneeled next to him and, holding the armrest, said: “You didn’t see what they did in Veneiea. Those beasts tore off the libs of our young aspirants and then ate them. How can you even—”

“Sofia is the one who is biased,” Florencia said loudly. She had one hand on my shoulder, the other holding my waist, and her fingertip slightly, almost without thinking I thought, stroked my skin. I inhaled sharply and looked left. Florencia looked back and smiled. My heart fluttered and I felt a growing warmth in my heart.

“I was not in Veneiea, Ardovar,” Florencia continued with reddened cheeks. She talked slowly and methodically, to regain composure and not crack under the weight and judgment of the three opposing us. But I knew that underneath the surface there was a storm, which she held back and barely kept up the illusion that she was in control. “Why would I lie? And Philemon, please come and look. Remember back to that day and tell me you’re absolutely certain it’s not him.”

Neither of the great men had any counterargument to her words, and I was amazed. How could she talk them out of their intention of breaking my mind for their own interest? Neither of the men wanted to break me because of hatred, save for the Captain.

Ardovar stayed silent and observed Philemon, who took a few cautious steps before me and looked me up and down. He dared not use his sixth sense to scour my mind, and I felt his psychic guards rise and strengthen.

“Florencia, I… I don’t know. So much time has passed,” Philemon Petridies said with a noticeable lack of confidence in his voice.

“Indeed, all those years have passed,” Florencia said. “But I remember those eyes. I remember that look on his face. I’m certain it’s him!”

“Warden,” the Lord Commander said suddenly and stood up. “Even if it is the so-called Jonas, your long-lost… whoever. Even if that is indeed true. Ferchell and Sofia found him in Veneiea and is, as such, my prisoner. I can—”

“Prisoner of the lodge, Ardovar. Not your prisoner. The Yasman Lodge is part of the Academy. It’s Philemon’s decision. Not yours,” Florencia turned to the dean, “at least bring him up in the medical wing. I’ll guard him day and night. If he escapes, it’s my responsibility and I will handle it.”

“It’s not so easy, Warden,” Ardovar said coldly. He was no longer pleading or trying to understand. “This matter is much larger than you and your long-lost boy. Powerful people are demanding—”

“Fine,” Philemon said, interrupting Ardovar, who shot him a disappointed glare but said nothing. “Florencia, he will be under your guard for the entire time. Day and night, as you said. Ardovar and I will come back in a few days and interrogate him about Veneiea again.”

I saw Ardovar step forward and protest, but a long glare from the dean silenced him. The air grew heavy and cold for a moment, and my chest tightened. But their mental exchange of thought happened too quickly for me to catch.

“Very well…” Ardovar sighed again. “Very well. Sofia, please tell Lynne to clear the top floor from all patients, and make ready a room. I’ll put a watch in front of the doors, entries, and exits.”

“Yes, Commander,” she whispered and left with steps I barely heard.

“Warden, do not leave this room with him before my guards tell you everything is prepared. And Philemon,” Ardovar said. “I’ll at least mute him. That way—”

“No. I will take the Aegisthies. Ardovar, please head to my office. I’ll join you in a moment.”

The Lord Commander then, through closed teeth, hissed in agreement and left the room. As he was exiting the doorway, he made a rushed move with his hand, and his coat shot with great speed into his grasp, and he left. The double doors slammed closed, and I heard the furious steps of the Commander of the Yasman Lodge leave.

And there I still stood, leaning against High Warden Florencia Regalla, covered in her coat which was entirely too small for me, and looked at dean Philemon. With some regained grace, he was in front of us, his eyes higher than mine, and he said: “Warden Regalla, understand that there are things happening now, that Ardovar and I are not in control over. What happened in Veneiea will develop, and many powerful people want answers which we do not have. And about your theory about the boy Jonas, forty years—”

“Thirty-six!”

“Thirty-six years have passed, but my instinct says there’s hidden meaning at play here. I need time to figure it out. I’ll do this as a favor for you. Do not make me regret this.”

“Of course,” Florencia said, and her eyes were brilliantly alive. I felt her hands tremble and her excitement was growing to levels I did not know if she could control.

After he said this, Philemon hung his coat on his arm, and before leaving turned to Florencia and said: “And be careful.”

Florencia nodded, and her smile widened. As soon as the two doors were closed, I felt weaker than before. Florencia’s smile was growing, however, and she also lost her fake confidence. She cast her eyes down and fell silent.

“Jonas,” she said. “I waited for so long... but I always knew you were alive. Everyone told me you were dead, but I never believed them. Where were you?”

“I don’t know,” I said, and for the first time, I felt guilty for not having an answer.