He supposed there was a book somewhere that said something to the effect that in magic, nothing ever worked out as planned. Although Orphen had certainly experienced this phenomenon before, never had it gone so completely, utterly and catastrophically wrong. It had started off normally enough with a spell gone wrong. These things happened, though, he would outwardly maintain, not to him. He was perfect (of course). Everything he did or said was always intentional (whether he meant it or not). He would never admit to being anything other than always in control. Especially to her. It just wasn't going to happen. Not even now while he was dazed, winded and staring at the ceiling with (no doubt) a very confused expression.

What the hell had just happened? The last thing he remembered was cracking open a book and preparing to recite the incantation within. Something must have happened because the feeling in the air was unmistakable: Magic. He couldn't exactly remember what he had been trying to do, but he knew it probably had nothing to do with knocking himself on his ass. Or at least very little to do with it. Perhaps he had been trying to find a way to knock someone else on their ass. That sounded like something he'd do. There could never be enough ways to kick ass! The spell must have backfired.

Slowly, he brought himself up onto his elbows. Son of a bitch! It must have been some spell. He felt like he'd taken the beating of his life. He couldn't wait to find out what spell he'd cast. Obviously it wasn't perfect yet, but judging by how truly awful he felt, it would be well worth it to learn it.

Methodically, he tested his limbs, starting with his fingers and toes. Nothing seemed to be broken. He was a little stiff, but that would probably pass. He lurched to his feet and cradled his aching head in his hands. This felt like a hangover. His head throbbed and suddenly the room was much too bright. Ugh. This was horrible! If only he didn't have to meet his apprentice, Majic...

...and her. Cleo Everlasting. Not quite his arch nemesis but pretty damn close. He didn't want to face her when he wasn't feeling quite one hundred percent. Not that he needed to be at his best when he dealt with her. It wasn't like he couldn't handle the brat. He just didn`t want to hear that voice! It was just going to make this mother of all headaches worse.

He sighed. But they needed to leave this dung heap of a town as soon as possible. That meant listening to Cleo screech about how they had just gotten there and she most likely wouldn't see another real bed in weeks and why did they have to leave so soon. Just thinking about it gave him a headache. It was almost as though he could actually hear her voice...

***

No way! Just... No way! They weren't leaving already! They had just gotten here! Cleo groaned the groan of the truly wronged. This wasn't fair! She hated sleeping in her ratty old bedroll. She could feel every single rock, twig and creepy-crawly against her back as she futilely tried to sleep each night on the road. It would probably be weeks before she saw a bed again. If ever. What if she never saw a bed again? What if this was the last time she got to sleep in a real bed!

"Orphen, why do we have to leave so soon?" she wailed as she pushed the door to the innkeeper's study open. Why on earth a reasonable human being would let someone the likes of Orphen into his personal study was beyond her. She shook her head. He was just standing there silently, with his head in his hands and, most importantly, not answering her.

"Ugh..." Okay, kind of answering her.

"Orphen? Did you hear me? What on earth could be so pressing that we need to leave this instant?" She planted her hands on her hips and gave him a look that she hoped was at least a little intimidating. Not that this ever worked. It usually just sparked another argument.

"I heard you. Why don't you just quit complaining for once?" He looked up and gave her an acidic look. Cleo took a deep breath and prepared to let him have it but instead of rising to the bait, he just pushed past her and left. She glowered at the door as it closed with a bang.

That idiot.

***

The headache was finally receding. Too bad he couldn't say the same for the endless stream of complaints that issued forth from a certain blonde headed brat. It seemed much worse than usual. Unless things got really bad she usually kept her comments to herself, stoically trudging along until he decided to stop.

Okay that wasn't precisely true, but it wasn't usually this constant. Did she ever shut up? Maybe she was having ... female problems. That might explain why she was being so relentlessly annoying. Women.

He shook his head. Maybe if he ignored her, she'd just stop. Of course the past three hours spent ignoring her hadn't done a damn thing, but maybe if he just thought about something else. His head started throbbing with renewed vigour.

***

That miserable, two-bit sorcerer! Just who did he think he was, dragging her across the countryside like this so soon after their last journey. Her feet hurt and her pack was loaded in just the wrong way. Something hard was poking into her side with every step she took. She was fairly certain if she took her shoes off, her feet would be raw and bleeding. One more day. She had only needed one more day and the blisters on her toes and heels would have been completely healed. Now, she could feel them burning even as she walked. Part of her wanted to demand a chance to rest, but the more sensible part new if she stopped, it would be all the more painful to start up again. Her feet would swell and there would be no end to the pain then.

She supposed it wasn't exactly Orphen's fault. It had more to do with the fact that her feet were the feet of a young noblewoman. They weren't used to the endless trekking involved in the semi-nomadic lifestyle she had adopted. It probably took years to become immune to the rigours of the road.

Take Orphen. He seemed perfectly adapted to the lifestyle he had chosen. He wasn't a large man, but he was built for rough living. He was deceptively strong and twice as agile as he looked. She had seen how he handled himself in a fight many times. Whether it was a battle of fists or wits, he always seemed to come out on top. She had often wondered if maybe the magic that flowed through his veins was to blame for this. Or maybe it was the product of a harsh life. Things had definitely not been easy for him as a child.

Even Majic seemed better suited to this than she was. Or maybe he just didn't say anything. Maybe his feet hurt just as much. She glanced over at the younger blonde. He seemed lost in his own world.

Cleo immediately felt ashamed. She had no idea how many times she had promised herself she wasn't going to complain anymore. She really had nothing to complain about. Despite all of their fights, Orphen had never abandoned her, had never told her to leave (well, and really meant it). Despite being at odds with him constantly, she liked to think they had settled into a sort of friendship. Although they fought about almost everything, he had never forced to keep going if they could just as easily stop for a rest.

Cleo winced as a particularly sharp rock pierced the sole of her shoe. She shouldn't have put off buying new shoes in the last town. To be fair, she had thought she would have more time to acquire a pair.

"Stupid, Orphen," she muttered, too low for anyone else to hear. Or so she thought.

Without warning Orphen stopped in his tracks and wheeled on her with a look that could scare the skin off a rabbit.

"Would you give it up, already?" he roared. "If I have to hear one more complaint, I don't know what I'll do." He cursed and turned around to resume walking.

Cleo stood rooted to the spot, angry and confused. She wanted to let loose on him, but she didn't think it would be wise. For one, he seemed to be genuinely angry. But more troubling was the fact that aside from those two mumbled words, Cleo hadn't said a thing.