Tag: 2023 Writing Challenge

05. Cassandra

On By MaryIn 2023, WritingLeave a comment

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.”

04. Cassandra

On By MaryIn 2023, WritingLeave a comment

When Lyre’s turn at the casting was over, he was replaced by the other woman elf. On the way down to my room, Lyre tapped the back of my heel with his foot and when I looked up at him, he made a short gesture with his head at one member of the crew. There were 18 men on board including the Captain, and then there was the 4 slaves as well, so I recognized each man easily but didn’t have names to go with all the faces. He was a burly man of middling height with shaggy black hair and a weather worn face, and he wore what looked like a permanent scowl. As we entered the hall in front of my room, Lyre said only, “Sarks.” I grimaced, remembering that the Captain had given me the name of the man that had assaulted the elf the night before.

I paused in front of my door. It didn’t seem right that I knew his name and not hers. “What’s her name? The one he hurt?”

“Larina.”

Instead of going into my room, I turned to face Lyre. “Where is she being kept?” The ship didn’t have anything like an infirmary, and the man that they called the doctor was actually a drunken ex-soldier with some field medicine training. He seemed to be a personal friend of Wrasker’s.

“Down in the slave beds.”

“Could I meet her?” Lyre tilted his head slightly as he studied me, but then nodded and turned to lead the way.

As we entered the area where the slave bedding was kept, Lyre checked the rest of the cargo area quickly before coming back and sitting at the bottom of the stairs leading up. I realized he was making sure we were alone.

It was the first time I had entered this area of the ship since Lyre had shown me around the first time. The hay still had the damp musty smell to it, and I wondered how healthy it was for someone recovering from bad injuries to be in a place like this. I could see that Larina was sleeping, and that the few blankets available to them were all piled under and over her. I also realized she was the elven woman I saw casting the air spell my first night on the ship – what I could see of her face was bruised, and her breathing was ragged.

The other male elf was awake when I entered. He gave me a brief unreadable glance before averting his eyes to the ground, and settled himself in a more formal position with his feet pulled up under him and his hands placed on his lap. “Please excuse my fellow for not assuming a more formal posture for you. She is recovering from being injured.”

 I shook my head. “No… please. You don’t have to be formal either. Sit comfortably. Please.” His head had been shaved recently, but the stubble growing in was dark brown, and his tattoos involved a series of striking jagged lines along the left half of his face. He made no move, except to shift out of my way as I came closer to Larina. I placed the back of my hand against her forehead – she was warm to the touch, feverish, and I worried for infection. More than that, the sound of her breathing… “I’m so sorry,” I said softly, though I doubted she could hear me.

“Silden. She was the one that cast at Sarks,” Lyre said, addressing the other elf. He kept his voice low, but it still managed to carry over to us.

Silden’s head snapped up in surprise, and seeing some gesture from Lyre he turned to look at me. “Her?” Lyre must have nodded or assented in some way, because Silden continued with, “But she’s human. How?”

I answered even though he hadn’t asked me directly. “I don’t know how. I walked in and saw what he was doing to her… and it just happened. It erupted out of me. I didn’t intend for this to happen to her. I’m sorry.” I stared down at her, feeling that it wasn’t apology enough.

Silden closed his eyes tight for a moment, and out of the corner of my eyes I watched as his hands clenched, unclenched, and clenched again. For a frightening moment, I wondered if he was going to punch me, and I tensed. He was actually very muscular, and maybe even more physically imposing than the Captain. Finally, he relaxed and sat back in a less formal position – leaning back on one hand, the other hand rested across a knee. He studied me carefully. I could see now that he had brown eyes.

“So, do you have any control at all, or are you at risk of being exposed?”

“Lyre is trying to teach me,” I said. He narrowed his eyes at me and I could tell that he wasn’t entirely convinced, though I wasn’t sure if it was about my ability or about my control. I flushed under his gaze, and turned my attention back to Larina as she drew an especially pained gasp of air into her lungs. “Is there anything more anyone can do for her? Could you heal her, Lyre?”

I started to pull his Focus out from under my shirt, but he shook his head. “Healing isn’t unheard of, but I don’t know it. It’s not an easy cast.”

“They’ve done all they can for her,” Silden said. The tone of his voice was cold and brusque. When I glanced back at him, the pained look in his eyes, the tight set of his jaw, said that he cared a lot more than his tone let on. He looked away as our eyes met.

I leaned back close to her, wishing fervently that I could do something to make her more comfortable, when a strange feeling came over me. Something like a presence. I closed my eyes and felt a cold hand brush the hair back from my face and a voice seemed to whisper to me, soft like a sea breeze. I could even smell the salt of it, and something else, like ozone. (I can show you) it said.

I opened my eyes and I could see, like looking into her body. Feel her injuries, through some sense I never realized I had. I could sense the broken rib that had punctured the lung, the pooling of blood where blood wasn’t supposed to be slowly drowning her from the inside, the festering of the infection like a light that spread from her lungs and made her entire body glow. But can I make it go away? I thought fiercely at the voice.

And then I felt it happening as I willed it. The bones mended, the blood that was where blood shouldn’t be shifted and seemed to dissolve, the flesh around the wound pulled and knit together, the fever burned bright for a moment and then dissipated.

“What are you doing?” I felt strong hands grab me and yank me up and away, so hard that I was afraid my arm would pop out of my shoulder. I started to fall back when another set of arms grabbed me, steadying me before letting go, and then Lyre was blocking my vision as he stepped in front of me.

“Silden,” he said, his voice a warning as he put himself between us. Silden glared at me and turned back to Larina, kneeling beside her.

He placed a hand on her forehead. After a few tense moments, he looked back at me, a bewildered expression on his face. “The fever’s gone,” he murmured.

Even from across the small space I could tell that her breathing had become less ragged. But I was so keyed up for a moment, that I closed my eyes on his searching gaze. I took three very steady, very deep breaths. Then I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’m… I’m not sure what happened. It was like what happened before.”

And then a different voice seemed to give a hearty chuckle, so loud that I opened my eyes and looked around in alarm. Both Lyre and Silden only looked at me in confusion. (So, the seal weakens) it purred, sending a shiver down my spine.

“What was that?” I asked.

“I think you cast a healing spell of some kind. But… it was very different than the magic we use,” Lyre said. I shook my head, confused for a moment until I realized that neither he nor Silden had heard the voice at all.

There was a brief shifting of movement that caught my attention – I looked up to see that Lyre had grabbed Silden’s hand. Silden gave him a look that said he meant no harm, and backed up a bit, showing his palms. “I…” he trailed off, looking a bit sheepish. “Thank you,” he finally said, staring straight into my eyes. I nodded, still feeling dazed.

 We stood together in silence for several moments, staring down at Larina. The bruises weren’t fully healed, but I realized that may be a good thing, because it would be obvious something had happened if she was suddenly fully healed. Silden had stopped me just in time. “So, you can cast,” Silden said thoughtfully. “And she has your Focus?” A strange mix of expressions flitted across his face as he considered the possibilities. “You should try to figure out the unbinding spell!”

“Unbinding spell?” I asked, the voices chased from my mind completely for the moment.

“No one knows if that’s even a real spell,” Lyre cautioned. “And even if it is, it’s much too soon to try it.”

“We wouldn’t have to try it yet. We could wait until we’re closer to land, and steal the small boat. Hells, we could even swim!”

Lyre did not look fully convinced. “Silden… I’ve heard as many versions of the spell as there are royal bastards in Covage. There’s no guarantee it even exists.”

“Why else are they always so careful to not let us handle each other’s Focuses? We’ve all heard rumors of slaves escaping that way before.” Silden shook his head. “I’m not saying we have to be foolish about it, but we can compare the variations we’ve heard and at least plan an attempt. This may be the closest to freedom we’ll ever actually get.”

“We would still need to get a hold of each Focus to get all of us out.”

Silden leaned toward Lyre, his voice low but fierce. “Even if only a few of us get out… even if only you get out. Lyre – if you get the chance, even if you have to leave us all behind, you should go.” I kept looking from one to the other as each spoke. Lyre looked slightly disturbed at Silden’s insistence, and frowning, he broke eye contact to glance back at the stairs.

“Is this unbinding spell exactly what it sounds like?” I asked.

“Yes,” Lyre said. “But it may not be real.” After a few moments, he said, “We should probably go.”

Once we were back in my room, I asked, “Where are the other Focuses kept?”

Lyre frowned. “I don’t know. And I don’t think you should concern yourself with it. It’s not a very wise plan,” he said. He sat on the other bed and seemed lost in thought.

“Do you really think the unbinding spell won’t work?”

He looked up at me. “It might. Every slave has heard about it. And they do take care to make sure we never handle another slave’s Focus. But… every time I’ve heard of it, I’ve heard something slightly different. And even if we do figure it out, stealing each Focus is going to be almost impossible. One of us is always casting, so there’s a high chance that not all of us will make it, unless we directly attack the crew.” He pushed himself back on the bed and leaned against the wall behind him. “Trying to free us is risky. To be honest, it may be safer for you to just bide out your time on the ship and then leave when we reach shore. Keep your head low. Make your way to the Empire, and see if they’d be willing to take you in since you can cast.”

“I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t leave any of you behind, not if I don’t have to,” I said. “We’ll find a way, somehow. I’m sure.” He tilted his head slightly to study me, his expression inscrutable.

“If you leave on your own, on good terms with the Captain, you will leave in peace. If you leave with all of his slaves, he will contact the authorities, and we will be hunted every step of the way by skilled individuals armed with enchanted items and trained specifically to combat mages.”  

I sighed and plopped down on my own bed, laying back to stare at the ceiling of my cabin. I closed my eyes and considered sleeping. “Maybe it’d still be worth it,” I mumbled, slightly sulky.

After a few moments of silence, he asked, “Do you really have no memory of anything before the ship?”

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling again. It felt like such a small cramped space to be in. I struggled internally for a moment over how much I should tell Lyre, and said, “I remember everything about my life before now. I just don’t know how I came here.”

“Are you from the Empire?”

“No. I’m from… somewhere else completely.” After a couple of moments, I commanded the light to turn off, and the small room darkened.

If anything, it just made the space feel even smaller, and when Lyre spoke, his voice in the darkness felt close, intimate. “There are old stories. Stories of outworlders being summoned to our world.” I wondered vaguely if he could read my mind and pulled the blanket around me. “These outworlders were meant to fight off some great threat to the world. I never believed them. When you live with ordinary monsters, you leave fairytale monsters to the fairytales. But I’ve never heard your language before. I’ve never seen clothes like the ones you arrived in. I’ve never witnessed someone delivered to the sea in a beam of light. And I’ve never seen anyone cast the way you do.”

I wondered how obvious my otherworldliness was to everyone else on the ship. He was silent for a few moments, as though he were waiting for me to confirm or deny anything. When it was clear I wasn’t going to say anything, he continued, “If you are an outworlder… there is some reason for you to be here. And if that reason involves saving us all from something terrifying, something mythic… then our individual freedoms will mean nothing.” I felt a chill travel down my spine as he spoke, and thought of the voices again. Was that why I was here after all? “If the rest of you wish to make plans, I can’t stop you. But I would feel better if three weeks from now you stepped off this ship with a few coins in your pocket and simply walked away from here, to wherever you need to go. That would be the safest thing for you.”

I curled up on my side, staring into the darkness of the room where Lyre’s voice was coming from. Finally, I said, “I don’t think I’d feel safe without you with me.” On one hand, it felt deeply manipulative to say – but on the other hand, it was true. Lyre had become a solace to me in this world. I could speak and act like I wanted to save every slave on the ship, but I desperately wished for his freedom above all.

“Tell me about your home.”

And I told him everything, rambling late into the night, until I finally fell asleep.

03. Cassandra

On By MaryIn 2023, WritingLeave a comment

I stayed busy over the next week. In the mornings, I had Lyre teach me a little of the language before he cast the spell. He called the human language Blest. It was a simple language, and easy to pick up. The elven language was harder for me, sounding more musical and lilting, with vowel sounds I wasn’t used to making. Lyre was a patient teacher, but I suspected I wouldn’t have more than a passing command of a few words, though he seemed to think that would be enough. He admitted that beyond spellcasting, it was not a commonly spoken language.

I was even teaching him some English in return. He had tentatively asked halfway through the week before I went to sleep. “I’ve never heard it before. It could be useful to know,” he had said after making his request, sitting in the formal position he often used. He kept his eyes averted, and didn’t seem to be holding out a lot of hope that I would agree.

Useful? Not likely, I thought to myself, but said, “I would be glad to teach you. It’s called English.” I almost carelessly elaborated that it was dialectically American English before catching myself.

He smiled. After a few moments, he hesitantly ventured another question. “Do you remember anything at all of what your home is like?” It was the first time Lyre had asked me about myself. I shook my head, unsure of how to answer since I supposedly had amnesia. I tried to remember which way people averted their eyes when they lied so I could look in the exact opposite direction and ended up rolling my head to look around the entirety of the cabin like I hadn’t become intimately familiar with the small space already. I wondered how much people with amnesia could retain, wondered if there was some small detail I could safely say, and settled on an awkward silence. “I see,” Lyre said after a few moments, and didn’t press further.

By the end of the week, I realized that even after the spell was cast, if I concentrated hard enough, I could distinguish just enough of a differentiation that I could command the light to turn on or off. It was a small accomplishment, but it was something. And when the spell wasn’t cast, it was a lot easier to do.

I also started to learn to read Blest. At first, I lingered when I was getting food in Wrasker’s cabin to study the papers and map on his desk. He spotted me once when he was there and frowned at me, like maybe I was spying on him. “Is it a very hard alphabet to learn?” I finally asked, gesturing to the flowing script.

“Ah,” he said, the frown dissipating as he realized I couldn’t read his papers, “Not really.” He brushed his fingertips over the papers thoughtfully, then walked back toward the bed built into the far corner. He pulled something out from under the mattress and brought it back to me – a slim book with a red cover. “It’s fiction, a fairly simple read. Lyre could teach you the letters. He should probably teach you how to speak our language as well. It’d be wise since you’re in our lands now.”

“That’s a good idea,” I said, deciding to omit that we had already begun language lessons. I took the book from his large, rough hands. “Thank you, Captain.”

Though later when I presented it to Lyre, he turned a very bright shade of pink. “Did the Captain give that to you?” he asked, aghast. I assumed he had seen the captain read it before and nodded. “I see.” He didn’t elaborate on his reaction, but he did proceed to give a brief lesson on their alphabet and we started on the book, though it was quite slow going because I also had to expand my vocabulary. It seemed to be a cheesy romance of some sort.

I also picked up things around the ship quickly. I was hoping to truly earn the coin that the Captain intended to give me when he set me on my way. Mostly I helped with cleaning, swabbing the deck, washing bed pans and clothing, but I also learned how to tie a couple of basic knots and took a few turns in the crow’s nest.

I realized quickly that the slaves (as hard as it was for me to think of them that way) were used solely for spellcasting duties. They could summon fresh water to use for drinking, and the Captain used them to send messages from a specially enchanted mirror he had in his cabin, though the range on it wasn’t significant. From what I understood, the magic they expended filling the sails with air was quite exhausting, especially when they were required to cast it for hours at a time to keep the schedule that Wrasker demanded.

With Lyre attending to my needs, they were each doing longer shifts as well, and Wrasker was concerned that it was causing a delay. Still, he did mention that we had moved out of the Calm Strait, which the sailors called the cursed sea, and where they had found me. It was an area of ocean that strangely held no air or water currents, and as a result, pirates rarely lingered there. They didn’t need to keep using the slaves to keep the ship moving at that point, but Wrasker took great pride in the speed it gave his business.

The second mate, a thin and balding man with deeply tanned skin named Fielder, was often the one teaching me what to do around the ship and how to do it. But once it was clear I had caught on, he left me to my own company. The crew was polite but distant – perhaps the Captain had warned them against becoming too friendly with me. Maybe they were suspicious of the fact that I had literally fallen out of the sky in a beam of light, or superstitious that it had occurred in the cursed sea. And like Lyre, the other elves stayed at the edges of everything, their eyes averted, refusing to acknowledge anyone unless a demand was made of them or they were actively casting. As I result, I made no close friends and kept mostly to myself – with Lyre as an ever-present and silent shadow.

Near the end of that first week, I expressed a curiosity about the cannons, and Lyre was taking me below deck to let me examine them. It had finally occurred to me that a cannon meant gunpowder, and I was curious about how easy it would be to hide some away, although I didn’t know what I would even use it for. As we entered the storage area where they were kept, I heard a gasp and the low angry murmur of a man’s voice, and looked up to see that a black-haired man had a woman shoved up against the wall, was pressed close against her. He slammed her head against the ship in a loud thump that elicited a pained whimper, and then began pushing her tanned robes up. Briefly, our eyes met – tears were streaming down her face, her blue eyes wide.

I don’t even remember fully what happened. My mind flooded with anger as I realized what I was seeing, and a strange series of electrical flashes seemed to erupt around the periphery of my vision. A powerful breeze swelled and swept through the room, causing my hair to fly up around my face, and there was an ominous rumble and the faint smell of ozone. There was a loud noise and the man cried out in shock, and I could hear the clattering sound of him falling into a nearby barrel and knocking it over, then a string of angry curses and shouting.

(Oh?)

Before I could fully comprehend what had happened, Lyre had grabbed me by the shoulders and steered me back out of the room and up the stairs. He walked me straight to my quarters. He pushed me into the room, then closed the door behind me. I stared at the door in shock, wondering what I was supposed to do. Lyre had never once so forcefully placed his hands on me.

I tried to think of what the weird flashes of light had been, tried to recall exactly what had knocked the man into the barrel. Whatever had happened had caused Lyre to panic. I felt the nervous crawling sensation of insects skittering across my heart, and I sat on my bed and kept my hand close to where the knife was hidden, in case I needed to grab it. I closed my eyes and took three deep breaths, and focused on listening for anyone’s approach. A strange suspicious anxiety loomed at the back of my brain, but I refused to give it words.

Nearly half an hour passed before the door opened and Lyre stepped in. I had heard him coming down the hall, had bounced up onto my feet to meet whoever it was, the knife hidden in my palm – just in case. He stared at me intensely. Then he closed the door and stepped closer to me, reaching out to push my hair back from the side of my head with one hand, tilting my chin up forcefully with his other hand. I opened my mouth to protest, but the words choked to a stop before I could even make a sound. I hadn’t realized he was taller than me until that moment.

“Are you a half elf of some sort?” he asked, his voice low. I realized that he was studying my ears. I tried to shake my head, but his grip was tight. He pulled my chin the other way to look at the other side of my head. “How…?” he started, then his eyes met mine and widened. He shook his head fiercely, lifted his hands into the air and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t….” Then he lowered his hands to his sides. “He didn’t see either of us walk in, so he thinks she managed to cast somehow, even without a Focus.”

“Is she okay?” I asked, dreading the response.

His lips thinned as he grimaced. It was all the answer I needed to feel guilt churn my stomach and creep up my throat. I plopped down on my bed. “It’s good that he didn’t see it was you.”

I hadn’t even put the thought into words. Hearing it spoken out loud, it was hard to deny. “She saw me.”

“Then she said nothing of it.”

Well, that only made me feel guiltier. “What did I even do?”

“You cast. But not a proper spell – something more primal. Elemental. You let out a burst of energy – like a storm. You threw him off of her. You can use magic.” Throughout the entire conversation, he did not bother averting his eyes at all, and he stared at me now, steadily, his expression hard to read. I could feel myself shivering. I could use magic? In a world where magic users were kept as slaves? I could feel the blood drain from my face. What was going to happen to me?

Lyre, seeing my reaction, knelt down in front of me, clasping my hands in his. I was certain he could feel the knife I held clasped in my palm, but he didn’t seem surprised or worried about it – if anything, his expression softened with sympathy. “We’ll keep this secret. As I said before, I will allow no harm to come to you. This doesn’t change that promise.”

I closed my eyes and took three deep breaths. I kept my eyes closed as I considered my options. When I opened them, I looked into the steely blue-grey of Lyre’s eyes. “Starting tomorrow morning, you’re going to teach me to use magic,” I said.

The next morning, Lyre’s brief language lesson included more elven phrases. After that, he cast the language spell. I watched the Focus glow as he spoke the words, frowning. “Am I going to be able to use magic without a Focus?” I asked when he handed the smooth black stone back.

“Yes. The Focus isn’t necessary for casting at all.”

“Then why do you use it?” I asked as I placed it back around my neck.

“It works with these,” he said. He ran a hand along the intricate tattoo that covered the side of his head. “The tattoos inhibit our natural magical ability, so that we can’t cast at will. They also easily identify us as slaves to everyone at a glance. It’s called tethering. The Focus is like a key that gives us permission to access our abilities.” I had suspected that they were slave marks, but didn’t know their full purpose until now. “You should be able to learn to cast just fine. We can even start with something simple, using the elven phrases I taught you this morning.”

I reached out and traced one of the lines that curled up his cheek. “When do they give these to you?”

He went very still at my touch, and his eyes dropped instantly to the ground. I pulled my hand back quickly. “When we’re infants. Magical ability doesn’t really manifest until we’re closer to 10 or 11, but they take no chances.”

There was an awkward pause. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you without your permission,” I said.

“You have no need to seek permission from me for anything.”

I shook my head as he spoke. “I’m not going to treat you like property,” I said, and for a moment the vehement anger in my voice surprised even me.

He looked up again and held my gaze for a long moment, a searching expression on his face. Then he cleared his throat. “Like I said, we can start with something simple.”

And that was the beginning of my first magic lesson. Since I already seemed to have an affinity for summoning wind, that was what Lyre attempted to teach me. Unfortunately, it wasn’t easy going. The first part of the problem was focusing enough past the translation spell to recognize the words Lyre had been teaching me beyond the perfect translation of what he was saying. But even past that, just speaking the words didn’t activate the spell. I focused hard on how I had felt the night before, but I failed to produce even the faintest breeze in that first lesson.

And I had other duties to attend as well. Lyre and I went up to the deck, where the Captain waved us over as soon as he saw us. “I’m afraid Lyre will have to take a turn with the casting today,” Wrasker said as he held out his hand for the Focus. “We had an incident the other night, and another slave is out of the rotation. I’ll try to keep him on duty only while you’re performing your work on deck.”

I nodded as I handed over the smooth black stone. “What happened to the other slave?” I asked, attempting to sound nonchalant. The Captain handed the Focus over to Lyre, and gestured for him to take his place near the wheel. I watched Lyre speak and perform the same spell he had just been attempting to teach me, summoning and commanding a gust of wind that caused the sails to billow and noticeably increased the speed of the ship. He made it look frustratingly effortless.

“She attacked one of my crew, and he beat her quite badly so she’s currently out of the rotation as she heals. This may slow us down even more. Sarks and his temper… If she dies, it’s coming out of his pay.” He shook his head and clicked his tongue. I kept my face carefully stoic as I excused myself and started on swabbing the deck. My mind felt like static as I worked.

There was guilt. There was loads of guilt, filling me so completely that I could taste bile at the back of my throat, like I had gorged on the bitter emotion. But more than the guilt, a certain degree of trepidation also started to build in me. What would happen to me if they found out that I could cast magic as well? Would I be enslaved? Would I be killed? I couldn’t shake any of the thoughts crowding my mind as I worked. I cycled through my other tasks as well, all equally mindless enough that I was never given a break from my racing thoughts. By the end of the day, I was both mentally and physically exhausted.

I ate some and waited for Lyre, and watching him cast did seem to help clear my thoughts. I thought of his promise to protect me. I had never thought of myself as being a person in need of protection. I knew home was far from being the safest, but if I had ever come close to being enslaved or harmed there, I wasn’t aware of it. In my little bubble of home, I always felt safe. And here, where I was a stranger in a strange land, I knew for a fact I wasn’t safe.

So I thought of his promise to protect me – a promise that would have annoyed me at another point in another place of my life – and I felt reassured.

02. Cassandra

On By MaryIn 2023, WritingLeave a comment

The next morning when I woke, Lyre was already awake as well, sitting on the other bed. He had his feet pulled up from the floor and settled underneath himself, his hands rested passively on his lap, one on top of the other. He was very pointedly not looking at me. I sat up and stretched my arms out, then twisted to try to stretch my back some. I didn’t feel that bad, despite the mattress being thin and harder than I was used to. There was a bowl, a pitcher of water, and a small towel set on the table between the beds. It hadn’t been there the night before, so Lyre must have gotten it for me. I poured the water into the bowl and splashed some on my face, then rinsed out my mouth and drank some of it. It was very cold and surprisingly fresh. Drying my face off with the towel afterwards, I murmured, “Thank you,” to Lyre. He shifted slightly, but said nothing in return.

Then, completely ignoring my audience, I pulled my clothes off down to my underwear to begin studying myself. It was something I had decided as soon as I realized I could see so well without my glasses.

I had been involved in a car crash once when I was in my late teens, when a drunk driver had t-boned the vehicle I was in. I was seated on the passenger side, which was the side that was hit. Thankfully I remember very little of it or of my stay in the hospital, and being fairly young and in good health I made a quick recovery. The series of scars from that crash covered the right-hand side of my body. None of them were large or garish, but there were several and they traveled from my knee, over the hip, and up to my rib cage. The doctors had done their best to minimize scarring in the first place and many had faded over time. In truth, I hardly noticed them anymore.

They were all gone.

I stood and pivoted on my right leg. No twinge or stiffness in my hip. Most people didn’t know about the accident because I could walk fine, but sometimes I could feel the reminder of the old injury if I twisted just the wrong way when I moved.

I poured over the rest of my body. There were no scars at all. No scratches from my over-excited dog jumping on me before he had been taught to stop, no acne or ingrown hair scars. No shaving nicks, no stretch marks. But every natural feature was still in place. Most of my moles seemed about right, the small blue crescent shaped birthmark on my left shoulder was still in place. It also occurred to me that I was thinner. I had never been fat, but certain things had started catching up to me as I had approached 30.  I could see the outline of my ribs under my breasts again, and the undersides of my arm had tightened.

I didn’t feel like I wasn’t in my body. But I also felt better than I had in years, and all the detritus and evidence of time spent living seemed to be missing. I wished I had a mirror so I could see if my fillings were still in my teeth, and I absentmindedly rubbed at my jaw as I thought about it. And there were other things. Unseen things regarding my health…

My eyes focused on what was in front of me. Lyre was still sitting on the bed, very still, staring at the ground. He seemed to have a little bit more color in his face for once. I wondered if it would have been more appropriate for me to dismiss him first, but I wasn’t sure what the protocol was. I dressed, putting on the clothes I had been wearing as I slept. “I guess you could show me around the ship now,” I said.

He frowned slightly, then held his hand out. I stared blankly at his open palm. For a moment, I wondered if I was supposed to tip him. Then he spoke softly, and I realized I couldn’t understand the words. “Oh!” I fumbled around my neck, grabbed the leather strap and pulled it over my head to hand the black stone over to him.

After the glow from the spell faded, Lyre handed the stone back and I carefully placed it around my neck again. “What did you say?” he asked.

“I said I would like to be shown the ship.”

We spent the next half hour briefly visiting each section of the ship. It wasn’t a large ship, but I did take my time examining things out of sheer curiosity. Down below decks there was a sleeping place for the slaves. There were three other slaves on the ship, two women and a man. The women were both present and asleep, sprawled on thin blankets and hay that had a damp, musty smell. Beyond their bedding area was the cargo hold where crates were piled with fabrics and spices from a place called Walsam. Lyre seemed a bit fidgety when I considered opening some of the crates, so I decided against it.

Above that was a storage deck full of supplies for the ship and crew – weapons, food, drink. There were two cannons, one on each side of the ship, and supplies for the cannons stowed close to them. “Do you ever have to use them?” I asked.

“We’ve been attacked by pirates a few times. We – the mages – are a pretty good deterrent once they realize we’re present. But we have had to use the cannons before.”

“Is it not common to keep mages on a ship?” I asked, trying to remind myself that pirates were not a thing to be reasonably excited about.

“Not entirely uncommon, but the Captain has sought out mages capable of… very dangerous magic.” I didn’t ask what kind of magic that would be. It was also hard to get Lyre to talk for very long on any subject – he answered all of my questions directly as I asked them, but didn’t seem keen to give full lectures.

Next was the deck of the ship. The first thing I noticed as we emerged into the sunlight was that the tattoos on Lyre’s skin shimmered. They actually looked almost beautiful, with a slightly iridescent quality to them, looping up into a pattern of leaves and flora that stood out starkly against his pale skin. Lyre pointed toward the aft of the ship – the Captain’s quarters were right under the wheel, and above the guest quarters where I slept. On occasion they would take passengers, though they weren’t exclusively a passenger vessel. On the fore side of the ship were the crew quarters, though Lyre only gestured to them and did not take me down into them.

As Lyre pointed out these areas, Wrasker spotted us from where he stood near the wheel, and called out to us. “Cassandra. Come have some food, lass.” I could see that the other male elf was casting the wind spell from there as well – he was hard to miss, being even taller than the Captain, though slighter in frame. Wrasker descended the stairs quite agilely for a man of his size and led the way into the room where I had been warmed the night before. There were a few other crew members present and eating, but the captain waved them away and they left, looking at me curiously and whispering amongst themselves. I smiled stiffly at them as they passed.

The captain offered me what they had been eating – a bowl of soup, with what seemed to be fish and some kind of root vegetable almost like a potato in it, and a few pieces of a very hard bread. I softened the bread in the soup and ate. Everything was very salty, but I was hungrier than I had realized and happily drank the broth down in large gulps. I cupped my hand around the bowl as I ate, enjoying the warmth.

Glancing around, I saw that Lyre was standing back by the door, hands clasped in front of himself. “Did you have a good night’s sleep?” Wrasker asked, seating himself at the table. There were several papers and a map on it now. I couldn’t understand any of the flowy script on the pages – the written word was just as incomprehensible to me as their spoken language.

I swallowed the soup in my mouth and nodded. “Yes, I did. Thank you for rescuing me. I’m not sure what I would have done if you hadn’t been nearby. I was very near freezing to death.”

“Indeed. The sea is unforgiving. You were lucky that we were able to find you as quickly as we did.” He paused for a moment. “The light that helped us spot you. That was an impressive display of magic that landed you there. Could mean that someone might come looking for you.” He studied me carefully as though my expression may give away some truth that I wasn’t willing to voice, but I shrugged. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure what any of it meant. “Regardless, I’m not apt to toss a woman out to her fate in these waters, but the quarters we have you in are usually reserved for guests. Paying guests.”

I nodded again. “I understand. I’ve never spent any time on a ship… that I can remember,” I added the last bit belatedly, recalling at the last second that I had claimed to remember nothing about my life the night before. “But I’m willing to learn what I can to help pull my weight around here. I fully intend to repay you for your generosity.” I wasn’t sure how I’d manage that beyond being helpful. I wasn’t even sure how helpful I could be. I felt butterflies churn my stomach as I wondered how long I’d have to serve on the ship to earn my way. At some point, I’d have to try to find out more about the world I was in – how I might have come to be here. And most important – why I had come to be here. As Wrasker said, someone could be looking for me. I needed to know enough to know whether I wanted to be found or not.

But I wouldn’t be able to do that without money or knowledge, especially if I needed magic to be able to communicate with anyone here and couldn’t read the language. “Well, I don’t intend to collect immediately. Settle yourself in, take a few days to relax and gather yourself. Then we’ll start you on some basic tasks. We’re at least three weeks out from our destination port – four, if the sailing isn’t smooth. From there, we’ll give you some coins and set you on your way, and consider ourselves even.”

I nodded, happily surprised that my tenure on the boat wouldn’t be overlong. “That’s… more than fair. In fact, it’s quite generous. Thank you, Captain.”

He stood. “For now, you’ll still have use of Lyre, as he can cast the spell for you, and he can chaperone you while you are on the ship. I don’t expect anyone will mistreat you, but my men rarely have women working alongside them.”

“Oh? I thought two of your elves were women?” I blurted out without thinking. Then I realized that they might not even think of elves as people and felt a bit of indignation at the thought. Then the Captain’s next words made the pit of my stomach drop completely.

“Well… women they aren’t allowed fair use of,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“I… I see.” Although I had suddenly lost my appetite, I forced myself to quickly finish my soup and dismissed myself. Without waiting for Lyre, I made my way to my quarters, refusing to look anyone in the face as I went, feeling utterly disgusted with everyone on the ship. I closed the door behind me and ran my hands up my face and through my hair as I processed what I had just been told. And so casually at that.

The door bumped into me as Lyre attempted to enter the room, eliciting a slightly startled “shit!” from me. I stepped back to let him in. He entered, and closed the door behind him, then stood in front of it. I stared at him for a long moment.

He glanced up at me briefly before averting his eyes again. “Don’t worry. As the Captain said, you’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it. No harm will come to you while you are under my protection.”  He must have seen the concern on my face and assumed that I was scared.

I couldn’t even think of the words to explain that I wasn’t really terrified for myself. That I was disgusted by the practice of slavery. That the casual dismissal of these slaves being assaulted made me feel physically sick. That I was frustrated that any fuss I made might be immediately laughed off, or worse. That I was at the mercy of the Captain and the crew because I certainly couldn’t walk off the ship in the middle of the ocean in protest. I thought again about how quickly I had almost frozen to death in the water. Instead, I made a weird, strangled throaty sound and plopped down on the bed. I slipped my hand over to the edge of the mattress. At least the knife was still there.

I spent the rest of the day stewing in my frustration. At one point I did snap at Lyre to at least sit on the bed, which he did obediently. As it grew dark, he said, “On.”

The lamp on the table flared to life. I stared in fascination. I realized that the light was steady and not flickering – there was no fire. I sat up from the bed and moved closer to the lamp, placing my hand on it – it generated warmth, but nothing dangerously hot. Opening it, I could see that there was a stone seated inside, glowing brightly. “Is this magic?” I asked, poking at the stone cautiously.

“Yes. It’s been enchanted for common use – so that those without magical ability can also benefit from it. If you want it to turn off, you have to say off.”

Curious, I said, “Off.” Nothing happened.

A strange series of expressions flitted across Lyre’s features, what I think may have been confusion followed by realization followed by amusement, but then he had carefully controlled his face again and said, “No, you have to say ‘off’ in the elven tongue. If the language spell is translating everything for you, that distinction doesn’t come across, I suppose.” And then he said “Off” again and the light dimmed before dying completely and left the room in darkness. I tried to focus on how “off” may have sounded different or distinct in each time it was pronounced, but my brain couldn’t pick it out. The language spell translated everything perfectly.

“And to turn it on?”

“On,” he spoke again. The stone’s light grew until it lit the small room entirely.

I sighed. “I guess you’re going to have to turn my lights on and off for me then,” I said, feeling a little annoyed. I pulled my knees close to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as I stared at the magical light. To some degree, all I wanted to do was pout some more, but having spent the entire day doing nothing but that, I was finally sulked out. No – none of this would do. If I was here in this world, I’d have to be able to function in this world. “Tomorrow morning, before you cast the spell… teach me the words.”

“As you wish,” he responded.

I curled up on the bed, and turned to face the wall. I closed my eyes. I was going to have to stop letting my own sensibilities carry my attitude and get used to this world. I would have to start with learning what I could to earn my passage on this ship, and learn the languages of this world. That would be the first step. And once we made it to port, I’d figure out my next step from there. I steadied my breathing and forced myself to clear my mind. “Off,” I heard Lyre command the light, could feel the room darken from behind my eyelids. Soon I was asleep again.

A last minute edit…

On By MaryIn 2023, WritingLeave a comment

I made a few brief edits to Chapter 1 of my 2023 writing challenge, the most significant being that I changed the name of the main character. It was originally Cassandra, and then I had switched it to Cassiopeia, but as the end of the story has kind of solidified for me recently, I decided Cassandra was a better fit. I do not plan to make a regular habit of editing these chapters once their posted, unless I spot a grammar/spelling mistake that should be changed, so hopefully I don’t make many posts like this.