I'll play the game; any

[magnus]

you and I both know that the house is haunted
and you and I both know that the ghost is me

There are parts of him, small parts, that regret soiling her image of Heaven—but more so, there are parts that rage at the Chamber for daring to touch it. How dare they leave their fingerprint on her beauty, how dare they try to twist their poison through Heaven’s veins. Magnus could feel himself growing heated, the familiar anger boiling in his veins and blurring his vision—and the overwhelming need to do something (fight back, steal Fiasko in the middle of the night) was becoming more and more difficult to ignore.

He did ignore it though, for her sake, and he compartmentalized the anger so that his rugged features were passive and the only sign of his anger was the flinty look in his eyes. He gave her a shadow of a smile, small and barely noticeable as it ghosted around his lacerated lips. “I appreciate the apology,” he said quietly, and he did. It was nice to know that there were still kind hearts out there in the world.

But then, she agrees to go home with him, and the smile grows slightly, becoming more pronounced, the edges cutting deeper in his handsome face. “I am glad to hear that.” While warriors and magicians were needed, they weren’t the only thing. They needed people to inhabit the land, people who were willing to love it and call it home. There was magic in numbers and magic in love; he had seen it first hand. Even just swelling the ranks, filling the borders with good souls may be enough to prevent a future attack.

“Ready to see your new home?” he asked, taking a step back and gesturing to the border.

MAGNUS

once general. once lord. once king.