Chapter 2: Chapter 2
“You know I can’t tell you that,” I said calmly.
“More secrets,” she scoffed. “This place—gods, Julian, this place is going to end you! Secrets and lies and misdirection, that’s all DEMA is about. And they keep you here, locked in this cell of a room, working yourself to death after they forced you to become Beholden—”
“Enough, Mara,” I snapped. Her eyes narrowed again and she opened her mouth to speak, but I steamrolled right over her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. These are my choices, no one is forcing me, and I don’t regret a single one. I think you need to leave.”
She stared at me, her mouth agape. “What?”
I nodded toward the door. “You need to go. I’m not going to listen to you belittle my choices. I have work to do, and you’re interrupting me.”
“Julian, please just listen to me.”
“No. If you need assistance, I will call security and have them escort you out.”
Anger blazed in her eyes. “I’m your sister!”
“And I love you very much. But that doesn’t give you the right to talk to me this way. And that doesn’t mean I won’t call security to haul your ass out of here.” I took a deep, calming breath to force down my temper. I usually didn’t let it get this far with her, but I was just plain tired of the same argument. “Please, Mara, just leave.”
She backed toward the door, her face hard, her mouth set in a grim line. Gone was the kind sister who hadbrought me peanuts and had come to check on me. In her place stood a woman pissed off beyond belief. I held her gaze, not wanting to show the slightest hint of weakness. Her hand on the knob, she fixed me with a hard stare.
“Ever since you started working here, ever since you became Beholden—” her cold voice spat the word like a curse “—you’re not the same person I grew up with. You’ve changed, Julian. And not for the better.”
She slammed the door behind her when she left.
I released a breath, and after a moment, stood and crossed to the door. Laying my hand on the smooth wood, I reset the wards with a whispered incantation. I walked back to the desk and sat in the chair witha hard flump. I slouched until I could rest my head on the high back, and scrubbed my face with my hands.
Mara was wrong. I hadn’t changed, not really. She just didn’t know me as well as she thought she did. And never really had. I had always hidden a part of myself from my sister. I kept my desires a secret because I knew she wouldn’t agree with the choices I wanted to make. And I wanted to keep her approval for as long as I could. If I were honest, I didn’t want her to talk me out of becoming Beholden.
I was seventeen when my power had started to manifest. Magic usually made itself known around puberty and it wasn’t uncommon in my family for the boys to start a bit late. But the surge of magic in my body had triggered the onset of Mara’s power as well—also something that happened with siblings as close in age as Mara and I were. We went through Academy together. Mara had been a star pupil, excelling in alldisciplines of magic. I, on the other hand, had shown a surprising and vast aptitude for the arcane art of scrying.
More than just being adept at it, I absolutely loved it. That moment of stillness, of gathering the power and focusing it, the unqualified thrill of seeing things that were taking place hundreds of milesaway—there was nothing about it that didn’t excite me. As I practiced and became more accurate, my advisor had suggested I make it my focus. I was able to see farther and more clearly than anyone he knew.By the time I finished the Academy, I had already been offered a position with DEMA, which I’d readily accepted.
The first few years, I’d been one of many scryers employed by DEMA. I was also one of the best. I loved the work, and knew I was making a difference. The intelligence I’d gathered helped DEMA intercept darkpractitioners before they could go too far; the missing people I’d found were reunited with loved ones; I’d foiled plots, assisted interrogations, made a difference. I’d known, without a doubt, this was my life’s work. After talking with the powers-that-be at DEMA, I’d decided the best application of my gift was to become Beholden.
It was an ancient ritual and would, essentially, permanently bind my magic to the art of scrying. I’d be able to do very little else, but that didn’t matter. Scrying was the only thing I wanted to do. Even knowing my sister was vehemently against such a practice, I was going to do it, no matter her feelings.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone