Adam rushed to the training grounds, his lips pressed into a tight, distorted line. His eyes darted across the students.
Most of the training equipnt lay untouched on the beaten ground. Instead, most gathered by the armored dummies, spells reflecting off the thick plates and painting the snow in beautiful hues.
Adam felt the pulse of mana radiating from them each ti they waved their wands, heard the eagerness in their voices when they congratulated each other and asked which spell they should try next.
Background noises! Only Quintella mattered.
Hissing a cloud of steam, he glared past them. There! Behind the last dummy of the row, Quintella hamred the plates with her bare hands. Nascent grace pursued her stiff footwork, while her punches, although weak, produced satisfactory clangs. Three months. She hadn't slacked...
If she were the Quintella he knew.
Slowly walking to her back, he smoothed his uniform, erasing any sign of his run from the enchanted fabric. He forced his frown to fade, strangling the dark tide of worries swarming his chest. Possession? Imposter? Whatever it was, he couldn't alarm it.
"Hey." A smile that held no warmth curved his lips. Beneath the facade, his heart hamred a song of dread in his ears. If anything had happened to her... "Did you defeat that incredible foe?"
"Big brother!" Quintella spun at the sound of his voice. Bao, who had been striking the other side of the dummy, leapt atop her head with a contented purr. "You, sleeping after sunrise?" The creasing corners of her pink eyes, the child's chuckle coming out of her bright lips, the gentle rub of Bao's fur—everything pointed at the real Quintella. "Say, isn't that rarer than pastries baked with honeywardens' honey?"
"No idea what honeywardens are. But, you know how important rest is." Adam shrugged as he would have done.
Yet, he felt his shoulder joints groan. Despite his efforts, he couldn't hide the terror pressing against his gut. The small talk he counted on to lower Quintella's guard beca an enemy. Each second crawling by could expose that he knew sothing wasn't right.
Perfect mory spanning over three months, Desmond had said, perhaps longer. He knew what to ask.
"Listen, Quintella. I think I found sothing about... the archmage we both called a witch." He tucked his fingers around his chin, pressing it until it hurt. "Without her na, I can't confirm anything, though. Mhh, what was it again? Didn't you tell about it back then?"
Quintella tilted her head pensively. Then, her eyes widened as she yelped. "The bad witch? I don't want to rember her. But I can give you her na again if you promise we'll never talk about her again."
"I promise." Adam's voice ca out hoarse, each word cut by a ragged breath.
"Easy then!" Quintella grinned. "She called herself Giselle the first ti I t her."
Lightning stord into Adam's mind. He froze, biting his lip until a coppery taste filled his mouth. Giselle, the Witch of the West. He had never heard that bitch's full na. Never. Not once. Quintella had told him it was a blessing that she couldn't rember it, that she'd forget her faster.
His eyes narrowed into feral slits, his hand latching. He snatched her wrist, his gaze bearing into hers.
"Big brother?" Quintella gasped. "It hurts." Her eyes watered as she tried to take a step back, but he locked her in place.
Bao growled atop Quintella's head, fangs out in warning, paws raised in a guard. Yet, she didn't strike. She couldn't. Adam saw it in her eyes: hesitation, fear, confusion. All these emotions crashed down on her with his next icy words.
"Who are you?"
"W-What do you an?"
Quintella started in her teary voice, but Adam cut her off with a command.
"Bao, on ."
For a heartbeat, Bao gazed at Quintella. She saw her favorite human—her sister—in tears. Quintella's looks were the sa, so were her voice and her manners. But sothing was off... sothing she couldn't see, or even understand. It was like the ugly orcs, who beca handso after Adam cured them, but the opposite... As if... As if sothing ugly wore her friend's skin. So that was why she had growled yesterday.
The realisation tore through her mind. Her fierce posture slumped with a devastated growl. She leapt on Adam's left shoulder, embracing his neck in a trembling hug. Soone had stolen her dear Quintella. They had to find the real one.
Adam understood every growl she let out, and with every understanding, sky-blue mana pulsed brighter in his eyes. "I won't ask again. Who are you? Where is Quintella?"
Quintella pleaded with him to let her go, that he was hurting her, that he didn't make sense and that Bao was betraying her. It hurt Adam even if he knew she was either possessed or a fake, but he held her until her expression shifted to solemn at the sound of footsteps on snow.
Adam followed her gaze to the other students. His racket had likely drawn them, not that he cared. But the Quintella he held seed to.
She clicked her tongue, her lips curling into a broad, disgusted smirk. "It's not nice to trick , big brother. You said I had told you her na. No, you made think she did. Humph. Sharp, I admit it. But you'd better quit your little ga before they reach us."
Adam answered by squeezing her wrist harder.
"Fool. They won't force to tell you anything. The sa goes for your teachers. Or..." Quintella's smirk broadened beyond human proportions, fangs like twisted knives glinting in the cold.
Her ears grew rounder as grey fur sprouted onto her face. For a second, Adam thought she would shrink to turn into a rat. Yet, everything faded back into place as she continued with a tone of cold, bored finality. "Or did you forget I know what she does? All of your little secrets will surely interest your wonderful rector. Your sister, your own life. See? You have much more to lose than I do."
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