Page 7 of Found in Obscurity

Boring.

Uneventful.

Solitary.

“It’s safe there,” he said finally. “I’m safe there, and whoever would be bonded to me in the end is safe when I’m there. I don’t want to be like…”

He bit his lip to stop himself from talking, but she knew. She frowned and closed her eyes for a second before looking at him sharply.

“Like your parents?” she asked, and he felt the hollow echoes of pain reverberate through every limb. Phantom aches for something he couldn’t rightly remember anymore.

He held her gaze as best he could as he whispered, “Can you blame me?”

“It was never about blame,” she said, and he could see some of the same hurt in her, but less raw. He wanted to know how she managed it when he couldn’t even stand to think about it. “She was my daughter, Lorin. I understand what it means to have lost her better than most.”

“Then why—”

“Because she wouldn’t have wanted this for you!” His grandma slammed her palm on the table, the cutlery rattling around loudly. “She wouldn’t have wanted something she loved sodearly to become a nightmare for you. She wouldn’t have wanted to see you alone.”

He looked away, heart hammering against his chest. She’d poked at one of the wounds that had never fully healed. Pressed a finger into a bruise that would never go away.

“She’s not here anymore,” he whispered, blinking against the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “Neither of them are.”

“But you are,” she said. “You’re here. You say you don’t want to be, but you came anyway.”

“I…” He frowned because he didn’t really know what to say. He’d gotten her note and booked the first flight to her despite his inner protests. He’d felt compelled and he hadn’t wanted to stop and examine why, to look inward at whatever secret part of him had overridden the decision. “You told me to come.”

“And you haven’t listened to anything I’ve said in years,” she said. “I didn’t summon you, Lorin. You weren’t magically bound to come. But you did. Why?”

“Could I have avoided it?” He snapped a little, tired of the questions being fired at him when he had no answers to them. He wasn’t ready to face his own reasoning. “Was not showing up an option? Because I was led to believe it wasn’t.”

“And I was led to believe you’d be kicking up a fuss and fighting me every step of the way, yet you came the very next day. You came because you felt like you had to be here. Because you’re searching for something,” she said.

He shook his head, because no…that wasn’t…it couldn’t be…

“I don’t want to be a witch, Grandma,” he said instead of explaining himself. “I don’t want to bond myself to a familiar and I don’t want to unlock my full power. I don’t want the risk of it. I think it’s best if it stays hidden.”

“You never had any problems with witchcraft as a child, you know. You used to beg me to bring you to rituals,” Grandma said.

“Things change,” Lorin said through gritted teeth, fighting back the flashes of memory of the happiness and awe. He didn’t want them. “I’m not a child anymore.”

“They only changed when you found out the truth. It was like it flipped a switch and suddenly—”

“I don’t need to explain why.” Lorin cut her off angrily.

“And I’m not trying to make you!” his grandma fired back, overcome with emotion. “But you never stopped to consider whatyouactually wanted. You let fear make every decision for you and nothing has changed. You’re still the same as when you left. Still lost.”

Lorin turned his face away, feeling hot all over, stinging sharply from her words. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“One ceremony,” she said, throwing him completely off balance.

“W-what?”

“It is your duty as a full-born witch to attend one bonding ceremony. You’re here anyway. Whatever your reasons are, you’re here. If you don’t find your familiar there, you’re free to go back to your fancy city life.”

“And if I do find it?”

“The chances of that happening on your first try are minimal,” she said. “Most witches go through at least two or three in order to form a proper bond. You know this.”