8: Impulse

There was something blissful in the magic talking over, exhausted though she was afterward. Something familiar, something…easy? Easier? Like scribbling the code for one of her automatons on the chalkboard to understand why a glitch kept occurring, only to have the numbers and logic - the story of the automaton - take over. When magic or thought or dreams took over, Ela became very unElalike and simply stepped aside.

In one who held such responsibility, to relinquish it was freeing, after a fashion.

And the freedom felt familiar, as if another mind gently held hers, observed it and placed it to one side. It wasn’t the same as the Quiet Time - the missing piece of her memory from Zehras’ -

It wasn’t missing memory. Unlike that time, she was allowed (if allowed were the word, since she didn’t know what had happened) - she was allowed to observe. Not that she’d have wanted to observe them taking Zehra from -

Oh God.

She’d watched with interest on this occasion, the Oikolygos home so close to the pond. As she’d been given control of herself, she’d wondered whether the red haired woman might be a relative, but seeing Zeynep, so similar in bearing to their father, red hair woul likely have run in the family.

So why the Viziers, which Viziers knew now and why did the Oikolygos family have a demon buried in their yard?

So much of what was unfolding was a sharp reminder to Ela that she did not, in fact, spend enough time learning the secrets of the city. Before Zehra, Ela had been content to stick to her own fascinations while Zehra grew more and more exploratory. Some of that had rubbed off, of course, but Ela was still, for all her thousands of thoughts, single-minded.

Exploratory….

Zehra had been a member of the Secrets of Forbidden Lore.

Had? Or was still? If Ela could call on her, was anyone else doing the same?

Did Ela want to know if they were?

There were clearly sorcerers of similar…predilections. For some to attempt to erase Cassandra entirely…the situation was extreme.

As was the fact that she had so openly cast that spell. Curiosity had got the better of her, and excitement at the application of magicks - sorcerous or fae, had made her impulsive rather than careful.

Think.

Think.

Don’t just act.
It would get her killed.
She could have got them all killed.

Think, Ela.