Lucky Signs
Irving's star pupil was out of bed after curfew. She was standing by a window and pointing in the air, trying to show Cullen something. "See! Look, it's right there! It just went right behind the cloud!"
"There's nothing there." Cullen replied, looking uncomfortable.
"Yes there is! I just saw it!"
Cullen shook his head. "I'm supposed to believe that there's a magical, flying box outside? And that it's your lucky sign? Your stories are just too much."
"It's not a story!" She pouted, "It's real, and I've seen that box every time my life has taken a turn for the better!"
"I'd like an example, please."
"When the fisherman saved me from drowning when I was a child! And when the mercenary saved me from the wolves. And when my magic first kicked in and I set fire to the thief that broke into our home! And when the Templars came to get me! That was a huge turning point, you know!"
"Right," Cullen replied skeptically, "And what is your lucky sign trying to tell you now?"
She was completely oblivious to his tone when she replied, "I don't know! I'll find out soon though!"
"Well, maybe it's telling you that you should go to bed before it gets to the point where I have to report you for being out of bed."
"Nah, you'd never do that. We're friends!" She turned to stare out the window and Cullen realized that she was right—he'd never report her, and he would even cover for her if she was caught. Still, it didn't mean he believed her crazy story.
Granted, he was still surprised the next day when he heard the news about her upcoming Harrowing, and that he was going to be the Templar to strike the killing blow if anything went wrong. That night was going to be a long night, he figured.
And he secretly hoped that she was right about her lucky sign. Farfetched or no, he didn't want her to fail her harrowing…and he rather did enjoy her company.