07. Lucas

It started with mild turbulence, not bad, but enough to cause a few of the people that were awake to chuckle nervously. Then the shaking got rougher – the seatbelt signs flashed on with a soft ding. I stowed the book I had been trying to read (unsuccessfully) and buckled the belt around my waist. The flight attendant was coming down the aisle, gently waking people to let them know to put on their seat belts, when a sudden violent lurch caused him to rise off the floor  – I remember seeing his eyes widen in shock as he grasped at the nearest seats. I remember hearing him cry out as he hit the floor bodily.

Someone sitting several feet in front of me disappeared in a strange flash of light, and there was a sound, almost like the sound of a seal breaking, a strange pop! that would have been comical if the situation hadn’t been so dire. Someone else screamed. I stared at the spot where the person that disappeared had been, blinking, trying to comprehend what was happening.

The people that had been sleeping were starting to wake, there was a bustle of movement as seatbelts were buckled, confused voices cried out in concern, and a young child began wailing. “Mom!” I heard a young boy’s voice yell, as more screams and shouting filled the plane. The strange sound occurred a few more times (pop! pop!), and I could just make out flashes of light in the periphery of my vision.

Pop! It was like everything was swallowed in light. My head ached like it had when the plane had taken off, like it did on every airplane ride when the air pressure in my ears hadn’t equalized to the air pressure outside of my head. I felt my mouth open in a scream, but no sound escaped me – no air filled my lungs – there was nothing. I felt a building of immense pressure pushing against my body, like sitting in a vehicle and flooring the gas, only the pressure was growing… growing… growing to an uncomfortable intensity. I tried gripping the seat arms, but there was nothing there. The seat was gone. The seatbelt was gone. The plane…

And just as instantly, the light seemed to fade, matter seemed to incorporate around me, and my voice came back to me. As soon as I realized the sound that I was hearing was my own screaming, I stopped. I was sprawled on my hands and knees on a stone floor. I gasped, breathing hard from the stress of whatever the fuck had just happened.

I was in the middle of a glowing circle. Before I could make out the details of the symbols arranged around its edges, the light of it flared and vanished. I swallowed hard and looked around the room. Two other people were sprawled on the ground, also looking around in confusion. There were others in the room as well, wearing robes or dresses of various colors. Someone was cursing loudly, shouting, “Shit! Shit!”

“What happened? Where’s the fourth?”

“We lost them!”

“What do you mean ‘we lost them’? How can that happen? It’s never failed before!”

I focused on the people on the floor. One was a woman, her wavy auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail and a baseball cap obscuring her face, though something about her seemed familiar. She was wearing a loose hoody and black leggings, and designer sneakers. The other person was much younger – a girl, thin framed and small in stature, with very dark brown skin, the whites of her shocked eyes standing out starkly. She wore a t-shirt and jeans, and a light jacket, and her hair was shaved short, like she had been bald but was letting it grow back in. They both looked as equally confused as I felt.

“But the spell didn’t fail completely. I think the last Grace also made it into our world. They just didn’t make it here.”

I turned my attention to the people that surrounded us. There was a mix of men and women and the ones that were doing the most talking had migrated toward a fourth unoccupied area of the floor, where a circle still appeared to be glowing. “I’m not sure how much longer I can hold this,” one of them said. He was a young man, almost nondescript in appearance except for a puckered circular scar that marred his right cheek. He stood over the circle, his hands spread and emanating a glow that pulsed in time with the glow of the circle. With every pulse, the light of the glow faded.

“If there was a fault in the spell, I don’t think it was in the circle,” another man said, an older man, with long white hair pulled back into loose braids.  He looked up at the younger man maintaining the circle and nodded to him. The younger man let his arms drop – the light dissipated, seeming to lift into the air as it disappeared.

A silence encompassed the room. “Have we failed then? How do we even find it?” a woman with straight, chin length jet black hair and very dark skin asked.

The old man turned to look at me and the other two on the floor. “We may need them for that.”

An uncomfortable silence settled into the room as everyone turned to stare at us.

“What the fuck!?” the younger girl said suddenly, loudly, echoing the only thing ringing in my head so eloquently that I had to suppress a sudden urge to laugh.

The old man blinked and smiled. “I believe our guests are going to be full of questions, understandably.” He held a hand out to the girl. “We’ll be glad to get you situated and explain everything as thoroughly as we can.” She eyed his hand suspiciously for a moment before sighing as dramatically as only a teenager can manage and accepting the help up.  He then gestured toward the door. “These three will take you somewhere comfortable and do their best to answer your questions. This is Raella, Greyjon and Chase.” The dark woman that had spoken before gave a stiff nod as he said Raella, and turned to lead the way out of the room. A burly bald man with grey eyes did an awkward wave at Greyjon and waited to see that we would follow her, while a plump younger woman with curly red hair stepped forward at Chase and did a full curtsy.

“Hello, please follow me,” Chase said, reaching out a hand to tug at my sleeve. I followed, and could see that the other two followed behind me. Glancing back, I could see that Greyjon trailed after us.

Continuing after Raella, we exited the room and started down a staircase that looped in a gentle spiral, occasionally opening onto spacious landings and doorways set on our right-hand side. I realized shortly that we were in a tower. About five floors down from where we started, they turned and led us into the room – it opened into another spacious landing, where a low table and some cushiony chairs were set, almost like a living room or common space. Further in was a brief hallway that split the remaining space of the tower into two separate private rooms. Raella gestured toward the chairs, and Chase flopped down onto a couch. She patted the seat next to her and smiled broadly up at me.

Feeling like it would be awkward to ignore the obvious invitation, I sat down next to her. The other young girl plopped down next to me. The woman wearing the baseball cap chose an armchair to sit in. “Whoa,” I heard the girl from my world breathe silently to herself. Glancing up, I saw that she was staring at the woman who had pulled her baseball cap off. And looking over I could see what had garnered that reaction.

The woman was Peyton Hobbs. I gritted my teeth to keep myself from staring in slack jawed fascination.

Peyton Hobbs. A-List actress and blockbuster darling, a bombshell beauty that tops Most Beautiful Woman lists. She was especially popular with geeks, being an outspoken gamer herself who always sought out starring roles in movies based on comics or video games. Whenever someone called her hard to work with, it would usually be revealed that it was because she had a desire to be respectful to the source material – otherwise she was always lauded as generous and kind. Although a lot of her social media was full of work out videos and pictures of her food or dog, she also posted videos showing off her gaming PC build, and occasionally did game streams for charity.

There were a lot of guys that complained that she was the epitome of fake gamer girls, but she had once called the concept out with such grace that it was hard not to be a fan of her. Had she been on the plane? I wracked my brain trying to think if I had noticed the woman in the baseball cap at any point while waiting in the airport or boarding the plane.

Peyton had heard the “whoa” and glanced up to smile sheepishly at us now that her identity was outed. I realized I was maybe staring a bit too hard, and purposefully turned my head to turn my focus away from her. As a result, I could see that Greyjon had chosen to stand, leaning against the entrance to the room, his muscular arms crossed. I felt a bit stifled as I realized he was guarding the only visible exit. Regardless of their intentions, they had us here for a reason and we weren’t free to leave.

“You’re Peyton Hobbs,” the girl next to me said. “I’m such a huge fan!” I glanced over at her, thinking that her voice was also familiar, and realized that I recognized her as well.

“And you review video games online, don’t you?” Peyton said, her natural Australian accent was very soft and almost hard to place, but she usually did American accents in movies so the effect was still a little jarring. As she spoke, more recognition clicked. Although not as massively famous as our other companion, the younger girl was AlphaSaint, an online video game reviewer and streamer.

As Peyton finished speaking, AlphaSaint practically squealed. “You know who I am?” Peyton nodded, almost shyly, and the younger girl responded with, “You can call me Lexie!”

“Oh, the two of you know each other?” Chase asked, leaning forward. As she did, I noticed the points of her ears sticking out from her hair. I glanced briefly at Raella and Greyjon as well, and realized they also had pointed ears.

A strange suspicion began to tick in my brain. I glanced around the room again, taking in the detail of the surroundings. The dust that had gathered on a corner table, the roughness of the stone walls. I rubbed my hands against my jeans, feeling the texture of the fabric, ran a finger over the slight fault in the stitching near the knee that always annoyed me about this particular pair of pants. Could I be in a game of some sort? Was I really here at all? Could it really just be coincidence that there was an internet game reviewer and an actress that almost specialized in nerdy roles in a place where we were apparently summoned magically to a tower by elves (or at least, pointy eared elf substitutes)? I frowned at the floor for a moment, trying to absorb everything that was happening.

Then I shook my head and glanced up at Greyjon, leaning nonchalantly against the exit. If it wasn’t a game… not taking it seriously enough could be bad.

And if it was a game… why not play along?

I tuned back into the conversation, where Lexie had taken to explaining that Peyton was incredibly famed where we were from, and that she wasn’t as famous but had a couple million followers online, a number of people that still seemed to be boggling to Chase. Peyton, seeming embarrassed, turned to look at Raella, who had taken a seat in another armchair near her. “I believe we were going to get an explanation?” she asked.

Raella smiled. Now that I was looking her in the face for the first time as she spoke, I noticed that her eyes were a bright golden shade in color that stood out starkly against her deep skin tone. “Yes. The three of you… and the fourth, who is not here, are what we call the Graced. Chosen favorites of the old forgotten gods, avatars of their will, able to command divine magic.”

Lexie scoffed, and glanced around. “Are you sure you’ve got the right people? We’re just… human. Or at least I’ve never been able to use special powers, and I’ve totally tried.”

Chase smiled. “Oh, every time the Graced are summoned, they’re unaware of their abilities. We’ll train you! You’ll see as your powers develop. The summoning wouldn’t have brought you forth otherwise.”

I frowned. Maybe they hadn’t been on the plane then – it seemed unusual that all of the individuals they needed would have all been gathered in one place prior to their summoning. I wondered what had happened to the plane – had my being summoned here somehow caused it to crash? “So we’re the avatars of your gods? Which gods?” Lexie asked, sounding immediately convinced and enthusiastic.

“We’re not sure,” Raella said, seeming almost embarrassed to admit to a lack of knowledge. “The old texts refer to the Graces as such, but the gods haven’t touched our world in centuries, and their names have all been forgotten to time.”

“Then why summon us in the first place?” Peyton asked. She leaned back in her chair comfortably, one leg crossed over the other, resting her hands on her knee, displaying a level of poise that almost seemed supernatural given our strange situation.

Greyjon spoke this time, his voice low, like he was telling a ghost story. “We summon outworlders to reseal a great evil. Stories say that he was once a powerful mage, but that he managed to gain power rivaling the gods and unlocked the secret of immortality. He grew so cruel over time that it became necessary to seal him away… and so the gods selected individuals as the avatars of their will, and they performed that deed.”

“Unfortunately, when the gods left our world the divine magic powering the seal began to fade with time. It became necessary to find those that could act as their avatars to refresh the seal,” Raella continued, her tone very business like by comparison, sounding more like a person giving a university lecture. “The old scholars managed to figure out that it was best to recast the seal every 500 years or so. It was also discovered that outworlders summoned to our world were always capable of utilizing the proper divine magics, though the reason for why has also been lost. We do know that our own magics do nothing against the seal except degrade it faster.”

“That is why we’ve brought you here. You would be performing a great service for us… and for our entire world. You would truly be heroes,” Chase added.

I watched Lexie mouth the word ‘wow’ silently to herself, completely engrossed in the tale.

Peyton’s expression was calm, almost unimpressed. “Yes, a great service. And once that’s done, what happens to us? Do we get to go home?”

Chase and Greyjon both seemed very interested in the décor for a moment, but Raella’s chin lifted slightly and she looked directly at Peyton as she spoke. “You will live the remainder of your lives here.”

Peyton’s lips thinned as she narrowed her eyes at Raella. “I see,” she said.

“Wow. I don’t know if I hate that or love it,” Lexie said. She was bouncing her knee nervously as she stared at the floor. “But if we’ve got all our lives and magic, maybe we can find our way back? I mean… this is cool and all. But I really want to find out what happened to our plane.”

She had been on a plane too? “Were you both on a plane to Reno?” I asked.

Peyton’s eyes met mine, and then she looked to Lexie. Lexie’s eyes widened as she looked between us. Then Peyton nodded. “Yes… I was sleeping, but the turbulence was getting bad when I woke.”

“I live in Reno. My mom was on the plane,” Lexie said quietly. “And my younger brother.”

She looked a little forlorn. “Maybe the turbulence was caused by the spell and they got everything under control once we were away,” I said, attempting to sound reassuring. “I’m sure your family is fine. They’re probably worried sick about you though.”

She nodded thoughtfully before smiling at me, seeming to accept my reasoning wholeheartedly. “What was your name again, Mister?”

“Lucas. Lucas Kearney.” I glanced around the room briefly, a room filled with magic casting elves, a movie star, and an online celebrity. “I’m an accountant,” I added lamely.

Allotted Skip 1

Next weekend I will be out of town and away from my computer, so the 2023 Writing Challenge post for 2/19 will be skipped. But we did build in a bit of leeway for just those occasions, so I’m not out of the challenge yet. The next post will be as scheduled on 2/26.

06. Cassandra

I saw blood dripping from Silden’s hand, and grabbed it, ignoring his wince as I opened his fingers to see the shards of the Focus embedded into his palm. “Was that even a spell? Did you figure out the unbinding?” I asked, pulling the shards out and letting them drop to the floor.

“Not exactly. I just tried to cast whatever came to mind first, like Lyre’s Focus was my own. Larina said something that made me think… and I… had a suspicion it might work,” Silden drew in a pained breath as the largest shard clattered to the floor. I placed my hand over his and concentrated on the healing I was able to do. As the skin on his hands began to knit back together, he looked over at Lyre. “You have to take her and leave immediately. Wrasker never intended for her to leave freely.”

I maintained my focus by ignoring the words to the best of my ability, but couldn’t stop the cold sweat that suddenly chilled me. “What do you mean?” Lyre demanded.

“After she had breakfast with the Captain, he summoned me in to cast on the mirror for him. He contacted the slave hunters in the nearest port, and explained that she had fallen out of the sky in some massive display of magic.” Silden addressed me as he continued to talk, “He doesn’t seem to think you’re a caster, but he suspects you’ve got some connection to the Empire and thought the hunters should collect you.” Silden clenched and unclenched his now healed hand and placed it on my shoulder. “I would have come sooner, but I was casting air for the sails after that, and was only now dismissed. We’re near to port now and they’ve had several hours to prepare to meet the ship.”

“They could be here by now,” Lyre groaned. He had jumped up and grabbed a large bag that already looked half filled with supplies from the chest near his bed. I looked at him in surprise as he shoved it into my hands – I didn’t know he had been gathering items as well. “I was going to sneak this off the ship for you. Nothing anyone would miss, but enough to get you started on your journey. Gather your stuff, quickly. We have to go now.” Nodding, I grabbed my clothes and the small red book from the chest and shoved the small towel on the table into the bag. I folded the smaller blanket and draped it over the top of the bag. Lyre placed a hand on Silden’s arm and spoke as I put on the belt, securing the dagger in place. “We should have gone with your plan. If we had left last night…”

The edge of his lips twitched upwards slightly, but Silden looked more worried than gratified. “I know,” he said.

“Maybe we can still get the rest of you out as well. The doctor still has Larina’s Focus – where is yours?” I said as I placed the bag on my back and slipped my knife into my pocket.

“You don’t have the time now,” Silden said, and I felt my stomach twist at the complete reversal of his previous position. Because it meant that we were finally out of time. As I finished that thought, his eyes went wide in shock, and I realized I could hear a clattering of several pairs of footsteps making their way down the hall. I could just barely make out the timber of the Captain’s voice speaking to someone, but couldn’t understand the words being said. Silden swiveled on his heel as the door opened.

For a moment, time seemed to slow down as I watched a blade bloom through his back. I felt the wet splatter of his blood hitting my face, and watched him crumple in front of me. “Hey, you’ll have to compensate me for that, that one’s valuable…” I heard Wrasker protest from somewhere in the hall.

In the doorway stood a man I didn’t recognize, dressed in dark leather armor. He stared at me impassively over Silden’s groaning, coughing figure, coppery-gold curls tumbled out from under his hood. He had once been ethereally beautiful, but standing out against the deep tan of his skin was a long pale scar – it ran across his face from the tip of his hairline to the bottom of the opposite jaw. The nose along the scar’s path had a notch in it, and the eye it crossed was a milky white. His other eye was almost as black as the pupil at its center. Both eyes were focused on me.

Lightning crackled around me suddenly – I watched the mismatched eyes widen in shock as he realized I could cast. I screamed and unleashed the jagged bolts of energy at the man. In almost the same instant, a glow enveloped Lyre and he shouted a spell and released an explosive ball of fire at him as well.

The man lifted his sword into the path of both spells – and a symbol glowed from within the hilt of the sword that somehow seemed to keep the spells from reaching him. Despite that, the overwhelming power of the unleashed energy couldn’t be fully stopped, blasting the man back through the opposite room and clear out of the ship, as well as completely wrecking the entire opposite side of the hall. I watched the splintered wood of the debris fall around us, felt the breeze of the sea sweep in through the new hole in the ship.

I immediately dropped to my knees, pushing pieces of wood off of Silden’s body. His eyes were wide and he was gasping and pale. I placed my hands over his wound and I tried healing him but felt so disoriented and unfocused and his blood seemed to be everywhere, too much blood to lose and still live, and I was shaking so hard, with adrenaline and terror and panic. I felt fingertips brush my shoulder. (Calm) a voice commanded in my ear. I closed my eyes and took three deep breaths, and focused. Silden had freed Lyre. I couldn’t let him die. I felt the wounds begin to knit under my hands.

I could hear Wrasker cursing in the hallway, then sounding shocked. “Lyre? How dare you, after all these years,” but his voice was cut off suddenly with a low whispered word from Lyre. Then Lyre’s voice rose, the echoey quality practically causing the words to boom as he commanded a storm of blades. I couldn’t see it from where I was, but I could hear the sound of metal scraping metal and clunking into wood and the screams as it cut into flesh.

I stood as I finished healing Silden, and stepped forward to see Lyre leaning down over Captain Wrasker’s body. He pulled an iridescent gem, carved into the shape of a bird, from one of Wrasker’s pockets and held it in his hand. He glowed faintly, but frowned after a moment and glanced at me. “This is Silden’s Focus, but what he did for me didn’t work.”

I turned back to Silden, who had sat up. He had a hand over his bloody robes, and he was paler than normal, but he was alive. Our eyes met and he nodded a brief wordless thanks, before saying to Lyre, “I think a slave has to do it. It’s the tether and the Focus not being correctly matched that breaks both.” Lyre immediately turned and ran down the hall of bodies. Silden stood, and I reached out to help steady him. He looked at the hole in the ship. “That hunter’s not far, and not dead. Neither of you have time for this.”

I gripped his arm, hard. “We have to make time. They’re not just going to let you live after this. We’ll all get out.” His expression was grim. We heard another explosion from above us. I tapped the straps of the pack and the hilt of the dagger to make sure they were in place, like I used to tap my pockets checking for the holy trilogy of the modern world (phone, keys, wallet). Ignoring the Captain’s body, I started to make my way down the hall, glancing back to make sure that Silden followed.

In a game, a blade storm spell usually summoned ethereal or magical swords to strike at people. It looked like the blade storm spell of this world had instead actually pulled all the swords from the sailors’ hands and sent them spinning indiscriminately down the hall. Some were stuck into the wood or had fallen to the ground, covered in blood, but others were also lodged into bodies – some, I realized, still coughing and groaning and reaching weakly for me as I passed. I felt a wave of horror and guilt wash over me for a moment as I stared down the hallway, seeing detached limbs and disemboweled stomachs and deep wounds, everything soaked in blood, blood pooling, blood dripping, and I froze, wondering if I should help someone. But then I saw Sarks – met his eyes as he reached for me, quietly saying “Please.” Maybe the rest of the men in the hall were innocent, maybe they didn’t deserve this. But seeing Sarks at least hardened my heart some, and I continued out of the hallway and into the open air of the deck.

As Silden stepped out onto the deck behind me, his own jagged tattoos lifted from his skin and shimmered as they dissipated into the air. Glancing around, I could see that the explosion had blasted a hole into part of the deck, and taken out a corner of the Captain’s cabin, and one of the sails was crisped at the edge and still smoldering. We both looked up to see Junel standing near the wheel, her hands dripping blood from the shards of Silden’s Focus. “We’re not going to get all of us out of this,” Silden said quietly, grimacing. “You shouldn’t have freed me,” he called up to Junel.

She smiled at him, as radiant as the sun. “I think I’ll do as I please for once,” she said. Then she turned to where Lyre stood, holding the first mate by the collar of his shirt. Lyre handed her something, which must’ve been her Focus because she glowed suddenly as he dropped it into her hand. The man lifted out of Lyre’s grip, crying out and blubbering what sounded like a plea for mercy. With a casual wave of her hand, she flung him into the ocean.

Then Lyre and Junel turned together to walk down the stairs, passing us as they made their way to the crew quarters. Silden and I watched them go for a moment.

“Go get Larina,” Silden said, seeming to rouse himself from his thoughts, “Let her know we’re leaving now.” And he turned to make his way into the Captain’s cabin. I was curious about what he was after, but I wordlessly nodded and made my way down below. From the crew quarters at the front of the ship I could hear the splintering of wood and the screams and shouts of the remaining sailors.

I didn’t have to go all the way down. Larina was standing at the foot of the stairs, her blue eyes wide as she looked up at me. “What’s happened?” she asked, her face pale, causing the yellowing of the bruises still on her face to stand out starkly.

“We’re getting out of here,” I said, gesturing for her to come up to me. She rushed up the stairs. As she reached me, I placed a hand on her shoulder and focused briefly on the healing spell, watching the bruises dissipate. She smiled and continued up past me. I paused briefly at the supply hold to put my hands on the first few rapiers I could grab and the crate of old clothes.

As I reached the top of the stairs, Larina turned back to look at me curiously. The tattoos on her face were gone. At some point while she had ascended the stairs, she had also obtained her freedom. I also realized it had gotten very quiet on the ship. “Why did you grab those?” she asked.

“I’m hoping there’s enough here to improvise a normal outfit for one or two of you. I’m guessing the robes mark you as slaves as much as the tethers?”

“Ah,” she said, nodding. Silden had already readied the small boat, lowering it to the ocean below. He was standing, casting his eyes about, a frown on his face as he gestured for Larina to go down to the boat first.

“What’s the matter?” I asked him.

“Hunters work in teams of three, but his boat was empty. Why was he alone?”

Frowning, I cast my gaze around. I realized we weren’t far off from land – in the distance, I could even make out a city with several ships sailing to and from its harbor. I shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t think I was going to be any trouble to take in? They didn’t know I could cast, and I’m sure they didn’t expect any of you to be freed,” I said, dropping the crate and blades down to Larina and making my way down as well. This smaller boat also had a sail on it, and I unfurled it and prepared for us to leave.

“I’m going to see what’s taking them,” Silden called down, sounding impatient to be gone, and he disappeared from view. I glanced around nervously, staring out towards the city, wondering how long we had before someone came to investigate the smoldering ship with holes in it. Silden couldn’t have been gone for more than a matter of seconds when I heard footsteps on the deck above and turned to look up into the black and white eyes of the hunter.

Larina cried out in surprise as she saw him, leaning back into the boat in fear. He slipped up onto the rail smoothly, prepared to jump off of the ship and down into the boat with us, his sword drawn and ready. I started to stand with a hand on the dagger hilt, the other outstretched, wondering if I could blast him back with a strong enough gust of wind… but just as his feet left the rail, Silden was there again. He appeared behind him, grabbing the back of his armor. With a growling wordless yell, Silden bodily flung him back and out of my sight. I saw a flash of light and heard the sound of something cracking wood. Nervously, I placed my hands on the hull of the ship as I heard the scuffle above continue. Then I heard the sound of Junel’s and Lyre’s voices joining Silden’s, and desperately wished I could see what was happening.

I heard Junel’s voice, louder and more commanding than I had heard it before, simply shout, “Go!” and Lyre was suddenly where the hunter had been, jumping down into the boat. Silden was moments after him. A glow rose up around Lyre as he flung his hands at the sail, commanding the air to fill it and sending the small boat rocketing across the waves, almost like being on a motor boat.

“What about Junel?” I asked, panicked, as Larina took to the more practical sailing matters, guiding the boat away from the ship and towards the shore, south of the city, where a forest nearly met the side of the ocean. I could see that tears were starting to slide down her face.

Silden grimaced. He was standing, looking back at the ship. “She’s not coming. She’s going to hold off the hunter and try to give us a head start.” He sat, and placed his hands on each of my shoulders.  “She’s making the time we need.” I wanted to argue, and my mouth opened but no sound came out. I watched the bright flashes of a series of quickly cast spells, saw the ship catching fire, the smoke rising above it – it was already so much smaller, so distant.

As we neared the shore, there was an explosion – a large one. I realized that the barrel of gunpowder must have finally caught blaze. I watched the ship begin to keel into the water, could see other ships and boats making their way out from the city to investigate or help. Larina grabbed the crate, splashing into the shallows, eager to be away. Silden grabbed the rapiers and followed her, glancing back at the ship with a pained expression on his face.

Lyre gently placed a hand on my elbow. I nodded, jumping out of the boat to follow, trying not to look anyone in the face as I hoped that at least the hunter had been taken out as well.

There was nothing we could do now but run.

05. Cassandra

My second week on the ship felt busier. Between the language lesson, the very occasional reading lesson, the magic lesson, my duties on the ship, and occasionally sneaking meetings with the elves, I was exhausted by the time I fell asleep every night. Despite that, I was strangely happy as well. Although he maintained a dutiful demeanor when we were above deck with the crew or in the Captain’s cabin, Lyre was more open when we were alone. There was also a great relief in having at least one person know where I was really from. I had asked Lyre about sharing my origin with the others in case they knew more about the stories that Lyre had mentioned, but he recommended against it. “Don’t say anything until you get to the Empire,” he said. “I don’t believe they would ever tell anyone, but it’s safer if fewer people know.”

I was also finally able to cast the wind spell. It was thrilling to have control over actual magic, to see a glow spring up around me, and hear the echoey quality of my voice as I commanded a light breeze. I focused hard on how I felt in the moments that I succeeded. It was more than the words. There was a feeling of tapping into a power of some sort – a well of energy from within myself that I had never noticed before. I wondered if it was something I had always had, or if it was something that only existed for me here in this world.

The first time I succeeded, I paused and closed my eyes and waited to hear the voice. There was nothing. I smiled with relief and opened my eyes. Lyre smiled back at me. “That’s very good. We’ll make sure you can do this again tonight, and then we’ll try creating fresh water tomorrow morning.” I’m sure he took my smile as pride, or if he read anything else into it, he didn’t let on. As much as I trusted Lyre, I had decided not to tell him about the voices. I wasn’t entirely sure why. I think I was more afraid of acknowledging them and what they could mean.

Since I could finally manage casting at will, Silden and I started testing ideas with the unbinding, despite Lyre’s disapproval. Every time Silden thought he had worked out how to cast the spell, I would attempt to direct it into Lyre’s Focus. And it failed every time. So in lieu of any real plans we kept track of who on the ship handled each Focus.

Junel was the other female elf – from what I gathered, she was the oldest of the four of them, though she appeared to be only in her late 40s. She had golden hair and bright yellow eyes, and her skin was a deep golden tan. She had such a warm demeanor to her that everything about her reminded me of sunshine. When I first met her down in the hold, she hugged me and murmured a fervent, “Thank you for saving her. I had lost hope that she would live.” I didn’t see her very often since she was the one that was up on deck when I was usually meeting with Silden. The first mate, Tilke, kept her Focus since he was in charge when it was her turn to cast. It was harder to know where Silden’s Focus would be – sometimes the second mate had it, sometimes the Captain. I only surrendered Lyre’s Focus when the Captain had him casting, so we always knew where it was. Larina still slept. The doctor had her Focus. He came to check on her daily, but Silden noted that he was often drunk and besides being pleased that she had beat the fever, he did not seem to be aware of any of her other improvements.

By the end of the second week, I had managed to build a small array of personal items as well. I had the clothes that I had arrived in, as well as the clothes that had been given to me the first night. There were extra clothing items that had been left behind by previous or dead crewman, and they were stored with the other supplies. From my understanding, anyone could claim something and begin using it, or the rags could be used for cleaning, or the fabric would be cut apart to patch up ripped clothing. It was hard to find something that hadn’t been dirtied or cut up, and harder to find something close to my size, but I did claim a blue tunic for myself.

Impossible to find was a good pair of boots. Even boots at their worst and falling apart were often claimed immediately. Some of the crew members went about the ship bare foot, and the slaves did as well. Though I hated wearing wet socks, my feet weren’t used to walking around without the protection of shoes and the socks offered something at least. I wondered about maybe sewing a stiffer material into the bottom of the socks at some point, especially as they were beginning to wear thin.

I had also obtained a few small leather pouches, and filled one with a handful of the cannon’s gunpowder. I had no idea how or if I’d ever use it. And from the weapons they had below, I managed to steal one dagger with its sheath and a belt, that I kept buried under my clothes in the chest. At least it was longer and sharper than the knife.


Larina woke at the beginning of the third week. I had heard about it first from the Captain, who mentioned that Sarks’ paycheck had been saved. “I’ll be wanting to keep Lyre on duty though. We’re close to land and short on supplies, so I plan to berth briefly at the nearest port. Besides, you seem to get along fine without him now.”

After I was done up top, I went immediately to the slave beds below. Larina was sitting up, her blue eyes wide, and when she saw me, she beamed and jumped up to greet me. For a moment I thought she was going to hug me, but she stopped short and tilted her head down almost shyly. “I heard that you were the one that saved my life.”

I flushed, eyeing the yellow-tinted bruises that still splotched her face and feeling awful to hear the undeserved praise. “And the one that almost got you killed.”

The smile faltered briefly and she opened her mouth to say something, shaking her head at my rebuttal, but seemed at a momentary loss for words. Into the silence, Lyre asked, “Are we running short on any supplies?”

I glanced over at him curiously. He was talking to Silden, who was sitting in the corner. Silden frowned up at him. “Not that I’m aware. Why do you ask?”

Lyre looked a bit disturbed – he crossed his arms, and the way he moved seemed to suggest that he was suddenly very nervous. He moved to lean near the door frame. “We may be spending too much time down here,” he said to me. “Perhaps we should go back to your room.”

“Larina and I were talking and it gave me another idea for the unbinding,” Silden said, but Lyre was already shaking his head again.

“It’s a fool’s dream. We’re getting nowhere. And it’s not safe for her to be spending so much time with us.”

Silden made a face like he had bit into something bitter. “The crew pays us no mind until they need or want something from us, as long as we stay out of their way. Besides… She’s our best chance at freedom.”

“And we’re her quickest path to slavery… or worse.”

“If we’re getting close to land, we should be working harder at figuring this out…”

“And if we continue to fail? And she gets caught casting?”

Silden let out an exasperated huff. “She won’t get caught.”

“You don’t know that!” Lyre seemed to startle himself with his own raised voice, and looked back up the stairs. After a moment, he turned back to Silden and with a lower voice said, “The Captain is stopping at the nearest port. He says it’s for supplies. But I suspect he plans to let her leave from there. We’re out of time.”

Silden seemed a bit taken aback by the information. Into the pause of their conversation, I said, “Isn’t that all the more reason to try harder? Right up until the last moment?” Silden gestured to me as I finished speaking, as if to say that I had taken the words right out of his mouth.

 Lyre scowled at me. “We should be preparing you to find your way to the Empire alone.”

“You plan to send her alone? She’ll be safer if you go with her, at the very least,” Silden said, at the same time that I said, “I don’t want to leave any of you here, if I can help it.”

Lyre pushed himself away from the door frame. “If even one of us goes with her, the hunters will kill her!” His hands balled into fists by his side as he spoke.

Silden controlled his expression, becoming unreadable as he studied Lyre for several moments. Lyre looked angrier than I had ever seen him, and seemed to be steeling himself for a more heated argument. But when Silden said nothing and the silence lingered, he sighed and turned to walk up the stairs.

“Are these slave hunters really something to be scared of?” I asked. “How much can they do against magic?”

“There was a band of pirates that once talked the slaves on a passenger ship into joining them by offering them freedom as members of their crew. At least seven elves joined them,” Larina said. “A group of three hunters found the ship, and killed every last member of the crew on top of the seven escaped slaves. They spread the bodies across every port down the Coast of Mann as a warning. I remember seeing the bodies every time we docked.” She closed her eyes and visibly shivered as though seeing the memory again.

“There are other stories, all the same,” Silden added. “They carry items that protect against magics, and are fearsome warriors by all accounts.” He turned to study me for a moment. “He’s not wrong that freeing us carries risk. Perhaps you should take the night to sleep on it.” I grimaced at the idea of Silden taking Lyre’s side, but he smiled at me reassuringly. “I’m not giving up. But if we’re out of time… at least try to convince him to go with you, if you can.”

I frowned, wondering how much luck I would have with that. Then I sighed and made my way up the stairs. When I reached the hall outside of my room, I found Lyre pacing the short space. He glared at me, then opened the door and went inside the cabin, and I followed. I sat on my bed and studied him. He sat on his bed and stared at the floor of the cabin, refusing to meet my gaze.

The silence felt tense, and I felt my own anger growing as he steadfastly refused to acknowledge me at all. “Are you really going to act like this all night?” I asked, a bit snippier than planned.

“I’ve already expressed time and time again what I think.” He sighed and pushed himself back to lean against the wall. He stared at me with his grey eyes, a slightly wistful expression on his face. “The Captain’s detour isn’t… insignificant. I have a bad feeling about all of this.”


The next day as I ate in Wrasker’s cabin, he seemed cheerful. “Weather’s fine and we’re making good time. We should make port tomorrow,” he said as I was eating some of the hard bread for breakfast.

My heart did a weird jump into a deep pit past my stomach. “Really? So soon?” I asked.

He nodded, a wide smile on his face. “Yes. We’ll pay you fairly and you can be on your way.” So Lyre had been right to assume that we were out of time.

I nodded, lost in thought. I doubted it would work, but felt the need to ask anyway. “If I decided to stay on your ship for a time, how long would I need to work to be able to buy Lyre from you?” Wrasker raised an eyebrow at my question and glanced over at Lyre, who was standing near the door, eyes cast down as was expected of him. “I haven’t fully mastered Blest yet, and I’m nervous to be on my own. He’s been very useful to me these past few weeks,” I said by way of explanation, carefully keeping my tone as detached as possible, like I was only inquiring out of a passing curiosity.

“Ah, well. Lyre has quite the repertoire of spells at his disposal that makes him valuable as a good guardian, it’s true. But he’s been in the family since I was a child, and I couldn’t part from him for any meager sum. You’d be working for me for a long time.”

“I see. I guess that can’t be helped then.”

After a few moments, I prepared to hand over the Focus, but Wrasker waved it away. “Seeing as your time on the ship is nearly ended, you might take the day off. It may be a good chance to get in some last minute reading lessons from Lyre before you take your leave.” His tone seemed to say he found this suggestion funny, but I wasn’t sure why.

“That’s a good idea. Thank you, Captain,” I said and excused myself. I left to return to my cabin, Lyre’s gaze burning into me as we went below to my quarters. When I turned to face him, his expression was unreadable, and I wasn’t sure if he was angry or not that I had asked to buy him. “It was worth a shot,” I said with a shrug. Then I thought of part of Wrasker’s reasoning for turning down my offer – Wrasker looked to be at least a decade older than Lyre. “How old are you, anyway?” I asked.

“They don’t keep accurate records for slaves. I’m near enough to 60, I think.” I gaped quite openly at him for a moment. He looked to be about my age, so it was hard to imagine him as twice as old. He tilted his head and smiled at me. “Elves live to be 200 if they’re healthy. Some start dying naturally of disease and age past 100, but I have heard of some that have reached 250 years or more, though that’s rare.”

“Wow,” I said, feeling a bit stunned. “And how old is Junel?”

“She’s twice my age,” he said offhand like it was no big deal. Which would make her well over 100 years old. I’m not entirely sure why I was surprised. Most stories had elves that were long lived – in some cases practically immortal – so I should have suspected that he was older than I thought.

 Still, it made the slavery seem even worse somehow. “Were you born into slavery?”

 He nodded, and sat on the other bed. “Yes. Elven slavery here started after the Fracture.” I nodded like I understood, but my expression must have betrayed how lost I felt by that statement, because he chuckled. “It’s strange to think of how you simply don’t know anything about our world, even the most basic history. Because of course you couldn’t.” He stared at me for a long moment, seeming to gather his thoughts. “The Elven Empire once stretched across most of the known world, across the majority of three continents. The last Emperor before the Fracture was especially cruel. There was civil unrest, and the beginnings of rebellion. Not just from the other races chafing under Elven rule, but from within the Empire as well. The Emperor was eventually murdered by his own bodyguards.”

“Similar things have happened in my world,” I noted, thinking of the various Roman emperors that had been assassinated by their own soldiers. “Did it all fall apart once he was dead?”

Lyre nodded. “Yes, and that is what is known as the Fracture. He had nearly a dozen children, and they each attempted their own claim to power. Not to mention the various magistrates and generals that had once served him. There was no strong central leadership for a long time, and the rest of the expanded Empire crumbled, broken into smaller territories and claimed by the lines of former kings, or barbarian chiefs, or anyone that had the power, means, or influence to fund a small army.”

I nodded as I listened. “How long ago did all of that happen?”

“Maybe 400 or 500 years ago.”

“And the elves that remained in human lands were all enslaved around then?”

“Not immediately. In many of the human lands, people had chafed under the casual cruelty of powerful mages, so many elves were forced to flee, or they faced death or imprisonment. Once they figured out how to limit our magic, we were allowed to stay if we tethered ourselves. But many still feared how dangerous we could be. Those that didn’t migrate back to the Empire were eventually forced into slavery.”

I nodded, digesting the information he had given me. He leaned forward after some time. “Do they have slavery in your world?” he asked.

“There’s some, but wide scale slavery like here is abolished, and even the new forms that slavery has taken are illegal or at least highly frowned upon. I don’t know much about it though.” We sat in silence a little longer, and I realized we were staring at each other. “I wish you’d come with me.”

He frowned and looked away, but said nothing. I thought about leaving the ship that had been my first home in this world, if only very briefly. I didn’t feel comfortable here at all, surrounded by men that were practically strangers, some who were even rapists. But leaving Lyre and the others… I felt tears well up in my eyes, and suppressed a sob by burying my face into my arms. “Cassandra,” Lyre said, sounding somewhat alarmed, and apologetic, and ready to argue that it was better for me to leave by myself.

I shook my head, also not wanting to argue in one of the last conversations I could be having with him, and feeling ashamed and embarrassed to be bawling so childishly. He moved across the cabin to sit next to me and gently placed a hand on my shoulder, and I turned to hug him, pulling him close.

He froze for a moment, then wrapped his arms around me tightly and held me quietly. It was a while before I finally managed to get my crying under control. We sat for a long period of time just holding each other, until I finally felt awkward and like maybe I was imposing on his good will and pushed away. I focused on summoning water, replenishing the jug. After taking several hefty gulps, I poured some into the basin to splash on my face. Then I laid down on the bed and closed my eyes with a sigh. I had done nothing with this day, but I already felt like sleeping. I also did not want to look at Lyre after having just cried so much in front of him.

Lyre was still sitting on my bed, but stood as I started to lay down. I had assumed that he had moved back to his own spot, but as I started to drift to sleep, I felt him brush the hair back from my face. “I’ll miss you too,” I heard him say very softly. But I was already so close to sleep, that I wondered vaguely if I was dreaming.


I woke suddenly when Silden entered the room, a look of panic on his face. “What’s wrong?” Lyre asked, sitting up immediately.

“Give me the Focus,” Silden demanded, and without question I handed the smooth black stone of Lyre’s Focus over to him. He closed his eyes and concentrated on it hard.

As the glow began and flashed brightly, Lyre cried out, “Stop!” and I heard something, a loud crack! that made me jump slightly. As I looked over at Lyre, I watched the intricate designs on his skin lift off in a glittering cascade and dissolve into the air, like they had never existed at all. Lyre and I both turned to Silden, shocked. “Why,” Lyre began, his voice pained, his hand reaching up to his unmarked skin.

“Because you need to leave,” Silden said, his tone urgent. “Both of you. Now.”