Marcus
“Yeah, my twin.” Marcus told Nova. ”Margot and I were both born Abandoned. She has water magic.” He shrugged a little, glancing away as if Margot would come walking down the hall any moment, even though he knew she was in the Citadel visiting Ravenna, before looking back at her. ”Frey made me a hybrid when they aged me, but Margot stayed an abandoned when she aged.”
When she asked about his shift, Marcus didn’t hesitate before he slid off the stool, boots touching the floor with a soft thud. The lodge felt suddenly smaller, crowded with beams and rafters and hanging trophies, and he was acutely aware of Nova’s eyes on him—bright, curious, expectant. A faint, self-conscious smile crossed his face as he stepped back to give himself space, shoulders rolling as if shaking out nerves.
“I can show you,” he said quietly, the words more to motivate himself than anything else. She had shown him the way her magic works, and now he had something to show her. Even if it was less impressive than what she could do. His bones shifted, joints realigning as his frame stretched and reshaped. Feathers burst forth in a rush of white and dark, his hands tapering into powerful wings as his vision sharpened, colors brightening, the world snapping into clarity that always made him blink a few times.
Where Marcus had stood, a white-tailed eagle now occupied the lodge floor—broad-winged and imposing, plumage a striking contrast of deep brown and pale white. His hooked beak gleamed faintly in the firelight, and his golden eyes fixed on Nova with unmistakable awareness.
He gave a small, careful rustle of his wings, feathers whispering against the air, then lowered his head slightly, an echo of the human gesture of reassurance. This, too, was him. Not separate from his magic, not separate from his humanity, but another truth layered into his being.
When she asked about his shift, Marcus didn’t hesitate before he slid off the stool, boots touching the floor with a soft thud. The lodge felt suddenly smaller, crowded with beams and rafters and hanging trophies, and he was acutely aware of Nova’s eyes on him—bright, curious, expectant. A faint, self-conscious smile crossed his face as he stepped back to give himself space, shoulders rolling as if shaking out nerves.
“I can show you,” he said quietly, the words more to motivate himself than anything else. She had shown him the way her magic works, and now he had something to show her. Even if it was less impressive than what she could do. His bones shifted, joints realigning as his frame stretched and reshaped. Feathers burst forth in a rush of white and dark, his hands tapering into powerful wings as his vision sharpened, colors brightening, the world snapping into clarity that always made him blink a few times.
Where Marcus had stood, a white-tailed eagle now occupied the lodge floor—broad-winged and imposing, plumage a striking contrast of deep brown and pale white. His hooked beak gleamed faintly in the firelight, and his golden eyes fixed on Nova with unmistakable awareness.
He gave a small, careful rustle of his wings, feathers whispering against the air, then lowered his head slightly, an echo of the human gesture of reassurance. This, too, was him. Not separate from his magic, not separate from his humanity, but another truth layered into his being.
I want you by my side
So that I never feel alone again
So that I never feel alone again
