Valentina feels a tug in her flames for the second time this morning. She looks down at her necklace and sees the flames licking the edge of the necklace in the direction of the woman. She curiously lifts her hand to her necklace when she feels the familiar rush of power suddenly pool in the palm of her hand. She immediately drops her necklace and feels someone staring at her, forcing her to look up.

She meets Damon's eyes and can see curiosity and worry in his gaze. His eyes gesture down to his own necklace, and she looks down to see the water in his necklace itching towards her. She pauses for a moment to see if she can feel the usual breeze that comes when her flames start to grow out of control but instead she smells the faintest hint of dirt, like the earth from outside had made its way indoors.

Both Damon and Valentina freeze in their seats, too scared to speak and too curious about what they are experiencing. But as quickly as it happens, it ends and the bartender from before comes back to their table, dropping off their drinks and waltzing away to help another guest.

Valentina sips on her drink, taking in everything happening beyond the windows greedily. She catches snippets of conversations around her and silently notes that none of the other guests make a move to sit near her or Damon and the sensations from before don't happen again.

Finally, an announcement is made that the races are going to start and Valentina feels her pulse quicken, feels the flames in her necklace jump up at the excitement of seeing a professional horse race for the very first time. She feels a stab of longing, knowing her father would enjoy being here just as much as she does. She wishes for the faintest of moments that he could be here, sitting with her and leaning forward into the windows, taking in everything and wanting to be a part of it all. She feels Damon staring and she turns to look back at him to replace him smiling softly at her.

“Are you alright?” he asks, putting emphasis on the ‘you.’

“It’s all so overwhelming,” she says.

“It can be,” he chuckles. “Would you like to place a bet on one of the horses?”

“We can do that?” Valentina asks excitedly.

“Of course! Come with me,” he replies. He stands and offers his hand to her. She takes it and follows him out of the lounge and down the same elaborate staircase they came up. Instead of making a right to the exit, they make a left and walk past all the other patrons. He leads her to a building that looks like the barn she frequents back home. However, instead of the familiar red building she is used to, she sees the barn is also white, like the rest of the buildings.

Damon steps up to the guard that is standing in front of the barn door and gives his title and element. The man immediately steps aside, pushing the door open for them, allowing them enough space to walk inside.

Damon guides her to walk in front of him, placing a hand on the small of her back and gently pushing her forward. Inside the barn are horse stables, each one with a small group in front standing at the closed stable door. She sees several men with emerald green jackets with clipboards, official betters for the race tracks, leading each group. Slowly, she and Damon make their way to each horse, reading the small signs that have the breed, age, weight, and statistics of the horse listed on it.

Valentina looks around and notices for the first time that some of the groups have horse trainers with them. She guesses that the trainers are offering their expertise so that the patrons can place guaranteed winning bets. Valentina is just about to turn to Damon and ask him to place a bet when she sees a horse in a stable to the far right, with no groups gathering in front of it, and no officials convincing patrons to place their bets on the horse.

Without thinking about it, she reaches behind her for Damon's hand and drags him over to the horse. She reads the sign, seeing the horse is a thoroughbred with a gray coat and one white strip that runs down his nose. The horse weighs 1,200 pounds and seems to have lost only one race out of the three races he has been a part of. She looks at the name of the horse. Grey.

Valentina turns to ask Damon about him.

“How come no one is coming to see this horse?” she asks.

Damon looks around and discovers that Valentina is right. From the looks of it, everyone is more interested in all the more notable horses. Damon waves at an official, beckoning the man to come over to the pair. When the official arrives, both Damon and Valentina note how young he is, and notice pinned to his jacket is a ruby pin.

“How can I help you, sir? Miss?” the official asks.

“We were wondering what you could tell us about this thoroughbred. His name is Grey,” Damon asks.

The official’s eyes widen and he looks behind him to see some of the patrons looking on with curiosity. Some of the other officials are working to regain their attention, scoffing and shaking their heads, whispering to their guests about the horse the trio stand in front of.

“Sir?” Damon asks the young official.

“My apologies, sir, but we are not at liberty to discuss this horse,” the official states. His voice waivers on his statement, like he wishes he didn’t have to say such a ridiculous line.

“Please, sir. Grey has only raced three times and lost only once. I would like to know why this horse has raced considerably less than all the other horses in this stable,” Valentina speaks up.

Something in her voice makes the official give in. He sighs and looks back once more. When he looks back at the couple, there is a gleam in his eye that betrays his professional composure.

“This horse is exceptional. The two races he won, he bested every other horse by a landslide. However, Grey has quite the temperament. The Company has tried to have trainers come in and work with him but he refuses to comply, often injuring them or scaring them away one way or another. The Company has decided that if the horse will not allow itself to be trained, then it cannot race. What a shame that is too. This horse was predicted to be one of the best,” the official informs them. He shakes his head, but does not leave them when he finishes. Instead he stays and Damon senses that the young official is drawn to them as they are drawn to the horse.

Valentina looks back at the horse. She sees him tucked in the corner, his large body facing away from the stable door, his head facing downward. The fire in her necklace withers, seeing the horses isolation.

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