The woods were thick with shadows, the air damp and silent save for the quiet rustling of leaves beneath hurried footsteps. Jack and Jackelin stumbled after Mr. Blackwood, their faces pale in the waning light. Jackelin’s hands were trembling, her eyes glassy, whilst Jack’s were fixed resolutely on the ground.


    Behind them, the faint outline of the town shimmered in the distance, and somewhere deep within it, a man lay cold and lifeless.


    Mr. Blackwood halted abruptly in a small clearing, the sharpness of his movements making the children freeze in their tracks. He turned to face them, his tall frame silhouetted against the fading orange sky. His dark eyes bore into them, stern and unyielding.


    "Do you understand what you’ve done?" His voice was low, measured, but it carried the weight of a storm.


    Jackelin let out a shaky breath, her lip quivering. "I didn’t mean to," she stammered. "He grabbed me, and I panicked. The glamour just—just happened. I couldn’t stop it."This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    "And so you revealed yourself," Mr. Blackwood said sharply, the words cutting through her trembling excuse. He turned to Jack. "And you—what possessed you to act as you did?"


    Jack’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "He saw her, Papa. He knew she wasn’t real—"


    "She is real," Mr. Blackwood snapped, his voice rising. He took a deep breath, calming himself before continuing. "What he saw was her mistake. And instead of resolving the matter with subtlety, you killed him."


    Jack’s shoulders hunched, shame creeping into his expression. "I was protecting her," he muttered.


    He folded his arms, his piercing gaze shifting between the two children. "Do you think the world will care for your reasons, Jack? Do you think it will hesitate to burn you at the stake for what you are, or for what you’ve done?"


    Neither child responded. Jackelin wiped at her face, tears streaking her dirt-smudged cheeks.


    Mr. Blackwood sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You’re lucky I was there to clean up your mess. But luck will not always favour you. If you continue to act without thought, your lives will end far sooner than you imagine."


    He paused, his expression softening just slightly. "That is why I will teach you control. You will learn to wield your glamour properly—silently, subtly. Not to panic, but to own the faces you wear."