Magister Orion's footsteps echo against the floor of my cabin as he circles me for the tenth time. The sound matches the thrum of anxiety in my chest. Each time he passes behind me, my shoulders tense.
"Please stay still." His deep voice carries notes of concentration.
A warm breeze tickles my scalp as he places his hand near my head again. The sensation reminds me of warm summer days spent out in the sun—pleasant, but unremarkable.
"I apologize, but I must try once more."
My legs itch from standing so still. "Take your time."
His frown deepens with each pass. The wrinkles around his eyes become more pronounced as he squints, as if trying to see through fog.
"I cannot detect what you're describing." He lowers his hand. "The ability to inspect a soul is not a magic we use among the Fae. I sense nothing unusual about you." He then adds hastily, "I'm not doubting your word. Whatever this magic is, it's beyond my understanding. Beyond my sight."
