The yarn kept slipping through my fingers.
Not because I didn't know how to move my hands, but because my mind wouldn't stop running. Thoughts, images, doubts. Every time I tried to focus, something broke—the weave turned crooked, uneven, shapeless.
Buganvilla watched in silence.
—Breathe —she finally said—. You're not knitting wool. You're organizing possibilities.
That didn't help.
I tried going faster. A mistake. The weave grew too tight, rigid, as if it might snap with the slightest movement.
I tried slowing down. Worse. The threads became heavy, clumsy, tangling with one another.
I let the yarn fall in frustration.
—I can't —I murmured.
—You can —she corrected—. Just not today.
She looked at me seriously.
—Magic is not commanded. It's negotiated.
My grandmother cleared her throat from the kitchen.
—That's enough for today —she said—. She has to go to work.
That brought everything rushing back at once.
The contract.The radio station.The world that didn't stop just because I was learning how to weave spells.
I carefully put the yarn away, as if it were something fragile. Before I left, Buganvilla placed a ring in my hand.
It was simple, but beautiful. Red and gold tones, like a sunset trapped in metal.
—This one has a flame spell —she explained—. It's used to purify malignant entities… and to burn creatures from other realms, if necessary.
She didn't say it dramatically. She said it the way someone explains how to use a fire extinguisher.
I nodded in silence.
Then she continued explaining: the energy stored in the ring, how some magical objects activated spells already embedded in them, while others worked as support or emergency reserves for witches and shamans.
That's when I understood.
What Nyx had given me wasn't just protection.
It was part of her power, condensed into someone else's will.
A safeguard.
And a battery.
If I learned to use her essence… I could access a fraction of her strength.
The idea chilled me—and thrilled me—at the same time.
On public transport, I tried to knit.
A bad idea.
Every jolt of the vehicle warped the weave. My hands trembled, not from fear, but from frustration. People stared at me. I put everything away before I ended up dropping the needles on the floor.
By the time I finally reached the radio station, I felt mentally drained.
The moment I crossed reception, a woman too translucent to be fully human called out to me.
—Excuse me —she said softly—. The boss is waiting for you.
A knot formed in my stomach.
But I took a deep breath.
Mictlantecuhtli had been… proper with me.
Besides, I had Iztli in my backpack.
I went up to the top floor. The secretary gestured for me to go in.
There he was.
Mictlantecuhtli was filling out paperwork while small green spheres floated in front of him. Some dissolved inside a jar; others he examined carefully before writing something down. A larger sphere slowly rotated at his side.
I sat down without saying a word.
Watching him work like that was unsettling… and strangely hypnotic.
—Izel —he said without looking up—. You're early.
—Yes… —I replied—. Why did you call me?
—Let's get straight to the point.
He took one of the smaller spheres and tapped it twice.
The room vanished.
The dark space filled with color, sound, movement. A street. People walking. Music in the background. It was so real that I had the instinct to step aside to avoid bumping into someone.
Then I saw them.
A boy and a girl walking together. They stopped. Hesitated. Spoke nervously.
It was me.
And Mike.
Cold ran down my spine.
—Who is he? —Mictlantecuhtli asked.
He looked at me without expression.
—A friend —I replied, lowering my gaze—. I've known him for a while.
Silence stretched as the scene replayed over and over, until it froze.
—Do you understand now why I'm asking? —he said.
—It's my life —I answered, with a thread of firmness—. You shouldn't be watching me like this.
He pulled out the contract and pointed to a clause.
—I must keep you safe —he said—. I don't care who you spend time with. But this time, you didn't take your guardian.
He pointed at my backpack. It trembled slightly.
—The more interviews you do, the more beings will know about you. And that's dangerous. That's why I assigned someone to follow you when you leave my area of control.
I pressed my lips together.
—Don't go out alone —he ordered—. Understood?
I wanted to argue.
I couldn't.
I nodded.
The scene dissolved. The office returned to normal. His expression changed immediately.
—Get ready —he said calmly—. Today you'll have a safe interview. They're under my orders.
He stood.
—I won't be able to accompany you. I wish you luck.
I turned to leave.
—Izel.
He tossed something to me. I caught it by reflex.
A sweet lollipop.
—I heard you like them —he said—. I bought it today.
He smiled.
I left the office not knowing what to feel.
In the prep room, I collapsed into a chair.
I let out a breath.
Then something moved inside my backpack.
Iztli jumped out agilely. This time he was wearing modern clothes: denim, a dark shirt, fingerless gloves.
He looked straight at me.
—Don't you think you should tell me something?
—Hmm…
—I don't like finding out late —he continued—. Especially about this.
I understood instantly.
I had never told him about Mike.
About the outing.
About any of it.
And I knew, without a doubt, that that day…
Was going to be very long.