The door opened on the other side of the room as Rachel walked down the carpet in the black school uniform with a book under her arm. She came over and sat across my lap in the chair facing Elijah.
“You’re heavy,” I groaned as she pouted at me.
“Why are you so mean?” Rachel said, glaring at me.
Elijah laughed. “You two seem to get along.”
“Drop the pigtails. You’re too old for it,” I sighed.
Rachel just looked at me, devastated. “I like them, though.”
“They look silly.”
Edwin clapped his hands, grabbing both our attention. “We’re talking to the Magister if you haven’t forgotten.”
“How can I help The Divinity?” Elijah asked.
She sighed dramatically with a grin. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe keep me in the loop about the tournament and the big scheme to make me attached to Cyrus so I will disobey the church.” Edwin and Elijah slightly glanced at me. “Cyrus hasn’t told me anything, but I am not an idiot. I might look naïve, but I assure you I am always one step ahead of everyone,” Rachel said, putting her arm around my neck, and tugging me closer so our cheeks are pressed together. “Maybe I’ll ask Cyrus to disobey you.”
Edwin laughed. “Is that a threat from the church?”
Rachel slowly turned towards Edwin in my lap. “No, that is a guarantee from me. But, honestly, could anyone stop me if I had Cyrus wrapped around my finger? And the church would be the first to receive that wraith, don’t worry.”
Elijah remained calm as Edwin looked visibly nervous at Rachel’s words. I couldn’t care any less about this conversation, but Rachel was right. If I thought they would harm her, I would not think twice about becoming violent. That would most likely end in my death, but she had already been through enough.
Considering her age, it was comical how she talked with such authority and controlled the discussion. She was far more mature than even me. Likely a product of her being awake eight years more than me from her lack of sleep or a child maturing fast because of the church's circumstances. Rachel had been keeping me on track, not letting anything derail me. Truthfully, I should have taken her advice more, considering she has always been annoyingly right about everything.
“Truce then?” Elijah said with a smile, “those are some big words, but Cyrus’s lack of response makes me think you’re correct. I am not interested in making an enemy of The Divinity.”
“Smart man. Keep me in the loop,” she replied, standing up from my lap, and patting her skirt. “You will need me for what you’re planning after the Demon Lord.”
“That we will. Your comments have been noted,” Elijah responded, putting his elbow on the desk, “Whatever Cyrus may know, I will have him tell you.”
Rachel stood up. “If you’re done with Cyrus, I will be taking him now.”
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Elijah motioned towards the door, and Rachel grabbed my hand, dragging me outside. Just as the door closed, she sighed, putting her finger to her chin. Rachel’s bossiness was getting slightly irritating, but I let it continue without resistance—the only person I had to blame was myself. Edwin’s constant obsession with capturing the Demon Lord had created a vacuum that Rachel took no time stepping into. The plan was for her to become dependent on me, but she beat Edwin at his own game.
“Was that necessary?”
“Yes, I am playing chess, not checkers, Cyrus. This matter is complex.”
I rolled my eyes, leading us towards our apartment. Rachel followed behind me, mumbling to herself, staring at the floor. Talking to herself was a regular thing, and while I had done it a lot as a child, I realised now how odd it was. As we entered the living room, she stopped at the couch facing the window, putting her hands on the backrest.
“You have something to say. Say it.” I said, staring at her back.
Rachel spun around. “I trust you, Cyrus.”
“Okay?”
“Cyrus!”
“I’m sorry. Thank you for trusting me?”
“Stop being so distant with me,” Rachel said, shaking her head, “you’re purposely keeping a distance.”
“You’re fifteen, people talk, and I don’t like the talk.”
“Understandable,” she said, sighing. “This body has been an annoyance. No one takes me seriously,” she groaned, walking over to the window putting her palm on the glass.
“Was there more?”
Rachel glanced back at me as the sunlight made her whiting hair glow. Her light brown hair had started to lose its colour the older she became; the pigment of her skin was also declining, but at a slower rate. I found it unusual, but everyone around me seemed uninterested in why. My current hypothesis was that the Divinity element was causing her body to change from use.
“I am telling you this because I want no secrets from now on,” Rachel said, folding her hands in front of her with an expression of concern.
“You have my word, Rachel. Communication for us is critical.”