“Tierney,” Fyordin calls as she stalks down the torchlit hallway. His normally dominant voice seems unsure, which whips up Tierney’s unsettled emotions even further.

Ignoring him, she makes her way up several spiraling staircases toward Or’myr Syll’vir’s laboratory.

Tierney barges into the purple-lit geomancy lab with the force of an incoming typhoon, her emotions a roiling mess. The tall, young rune sorcerer she finds there pauses in scribbling something down in a notebook and meets her confrontational glare.

She looks over his purple-hued, point-eared form, her attention snagging on his out-of-place deep-green eyes. They shine like beacons against the overwhelming purpleness of both him and practically everything in this laboratory, the cramped space cut right into a swath of violet stone at the pinnacle of the Wyvernguard’s South Island.

His Vu Trin uniform is outrageously tinted purple, and the tables of his cluttered lab are covered with lilac crystals and stones, along with a smattering of dark stones imprinted with glowing lavender runes. There’s something familiar about him. So familiar, she feels flustered by her inability to place her finger on it.

Or’myr Syll’vir holds her gaze, showing none of the unsettled intimidation Tierney is so often met with. Instead, he seems oddly arrested.

“You’d be Tierney Calix, I’m assuming,” he says, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I’m Or’myr Syll’vir, as you probably read on the summons. I’m to be your geomancy lab partner for a few days. I need to channel some strong water magic into weaponry—” he gestures loosely around the lab “—and, well, they tell me you’re a bit gifted in that department.” He extends a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The warmth in his expression triggers Tierney’s defenses. She’s tired of this game, played over and over, being initially met with friendliness until people find out she has her own mind—a mind that won’t always obey their rigid rules.

She does not take his hand.

Instead, she crosses her arms. “Well, Or’myr,” she says with open challenge in her tone, “you should know, up front, that I’m somewhat shunned here.”

He cocks a brow and lowers his hand. “Are you really?”

Tierney feels herself becoming entrenched as she stares him down. “Yeah, I am. Because Trystan Gardner is my closest friend here. And Elloren Gardner is my best friend. I’ve been informed by a number of people that I’m hopelessly polluted in my alliances.” Her gaze flits pointedly around his well-outfitted lab. “You seem to have some influence. So, just know that you’re likely to harm your social standing if you work with me.”

Or’myr lets out a short laugh, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’m no stranger to controversy. Seeing as I’m a grandson of the Black Witch.”