Tag: Magic

20. Cassandra

On By MaryIn 2023, WritingLeave a comment

I was eager to be on my way back along the river in an attempt to find Lyre and the others, but I was waterlogged and tired and shivering. The Hunter’s healing spell had been incomplete, and I was still sore and stiff. I was also shocked to learn that it was late in the afternoon already, and the sun was already out of sight beyond the cliff faces of the ravine. How long had I been knocked out? How far had the river taken me in that time?

Not only that, but the Hunter insisted that I rest. He built a campfire, and placed his hooded cloak around my shoulders and left. I wondered if I should escape – I wasn’t certain if I was his prisoner or not. But he had followed us all the way from the ocean, and I doubted I could get away from him now. And he had helped us fight off the hounds. I sat as close to the fire as I could, thinking over the brief conversation that had passed between us, trying to figure out if he was friend or foe. Absently I tugged his cloak around me tighter. Somehow, it was still dry and warm, and smelled faintly like mint.

The Hunter wasn’t pleased about me laughing in his face at his question, and even less pleased when I explained that I didn’t even know where the voices were from. I was also not pleased to learn that his healing ability was very limited, and so the incomplete healing and my residual soreness and scars were about as good as it was going to get. But I had felt compelled to share everything I knew with him, maybe because of the head injury. Or maybe because he was like me – a human that could use magic, who heard mysterious voices. I stared into the fire, thinking of the dogs as I rubbed at the shiny burns on my arms.

The Hunter returned before the sunlight was fully gone, carrying a pair of field dressed rabbits skewered on wooden spikes. He positioned them so they leaned over the flames, and then sat cross legged on the other side of the fire, his arms crossed, glowering at me. We sat silently, listening to the sizzle of melting fat hitting the flames. My stomach grumbled at the smell.

When the meat was finished cooking, he stood to hand me one skewer and then took the other back to his spot. He pulled the rabbit apart carefully, chewing slowly as he continued to silently stare at me. The quiet meal made me miss my friends more. That and the constant staring was disconcerting. “How long have you been able to cast?” I finally asked. I had told him everything about me, and I knew nothing about him.

He flinched at the word cast. “Since I attacked your group on the ship.”

“Before or after you killed Junel?” The words came out with a little more heat than I’d intended, and I glared at the ground to avoid looking at him.

“I didn’t kill her.” I glanced back up at him. He glared at me. “The ship blowing up took care of that. Don’t mistake me, I would have killed her. But she managed to kill herself with her own carelessness, wielding so much fire near such a volatile substance as flame powder.”

“So you wouldn’t have felt any guilt about killing her,” I stated flatly.

“Not any more guilt than any of you did massacring an entire ship of men,” he retorted.

I thought briefly of the screams, of that short bloody hallway that I had walked through. And also immediately remembered that I had almost witnessed Larina being raped, how nonchalant the Captain had been about how his crew used his slaves, and Lyre’s words about his life when I had last spoken to him. Full of resentment on their behalf, I said, “Can you blame slaves for wanting revenge for how they’re treated?”

“No.” The word came out cold and hard, catching me by surprise, and he ran his hand briefly across his face, following the trail of the scar that marred his features. “I can’t blame revenge. But I can say it never ends.” I stared into the milky iris of his injured eye, the slight notch in his nose.

Annoyed, I returned to finishing off the rabbit, surprised to see that I had pulled nearly every piece of meat from the bones. I tossed the remains into the fire, rubbing the grease off onto my pants. “Thank you for the food,” I said, perhaps a bit harsher than I should have. He stared back sullenly, which somehow was just pissing me off more. I flopped down and turned away from the fire so I wouldn’t have to see his face. I closed my eyes to force myself to sleep. The sooner I slept, the sooner the next day would come, the sooner I could start walking back up the river to find Lyre.

Not all the dogs had been dead when I had fallen off the cliff. Were my friends okay? I felt sick to my stomach thinking about the injuries they had already sustained that I hadn’t had a chance to fully heal.

I woke the next morning to the sound of the Hunter moving about the cave and the smell of mint tea. I summoned water to wash my face, and ran a hand through my hair, then turned to see what the Hunter was doing. He was in the process of pulling a metal cup away from the flames very carefully with a gloved hand, and setting it down to cool a bit. He saw me eying the cup and frowned at me. “There’s not enough to share.”

I thought of the lingering smell of mint on his cloak. “Do you just… carry mint and a cup with you? To make tea?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“The mint stayed dry when you fell in the river?”

He looked annoyed at my line of questioning. “The cloak is enchanted to remain dry and provide a degree of magical protection. I keep the tea there.” I pulled the cloak tighter around me, wondering if he had gone pawing around it while I slept. He caught the movement and my expression and grimaced. “I wasn’t going to leave my tea in my cloak when I gave it to you. It’s my tea.”

The way he said that struck me as funny. “And there’s not enough to share?” I asked, suppressing a smile.

He leveled a flat, no-nonsense stare at me. “No.”

“Ah.”

He went about what must have been a morning routine for him. I no longer had my pack of supplies, so I didn’t have much to gather. I couldn’t remember if I had dropped it in the cliffside battle or lost it to the river. I watched as the Hunter secured his armor and his sword, kicked dirt over the fire, and then sat down and closed his eyes, sitting very still. I wondered if he was meditating, and remained silent. After several minutes had passed, he opened his eyes and drank his tea, now that it had cooled a little. Then he stood and left the cave.

I followed him, and watched as he rinsed his cup out in the river, then attached it securely to his belt. He eyed me warily for a moment. I moved to take off the cloak. “Did you need this back?” I asked, shifting it off my shoulders.

“No. You can keep it, Outworlder.”

“My name is Cassandra,” I told him.

“Cassandra,” he repeated.

I stared at him for a moment, studying the mismatched eyes. His hair was nearly as long as mine, cascading in curls around his face, glinting in the morning light. The shape of his face was almost quite delicate for a man, and he was roughly the same height as me. If it wasn’t for the scar, he would have been enviously beautiful. Despite that beauty, he was annoying the fuck out of me. “What’s your name, Hunter?” I asked into the extended silence when he didn’t offer it. He narrowed his eyes at me.

Oh, I realized. This is the moment when I find out whether he’s a friend or foe.

Without a word, he gestured downstream, as though he intended for me to walk that way. I glowered at him. “My friends are upstream.” He arched one eyebrow. I pulled his cloak tight for a moment. “Am I your prisoner then?”

He seemed taken aback by the question. After a moment, he said, “No. I don’t know.” He frowned and shook his head, then let out a deep sigh. “I’m not taking you back. The voice I hear said we should go this way.”

“Oh.” I wondered if he was lying so I wouldn’t argue.

Well, I’m certain they don’t want to hurt you at least, an amused sounding voice whispered quietly into a sudden breeze that swept my hair away from my face. This one was familiar – the one that I had heard the most. I caught a faint whiff of ozone. I could see an inquisitive look on the Hunter’s face as he realized that I must have heard something he hadn’t.

Hesitantly, I nodded. “Fine. But… what is your name?”

Just as hesitantly, he said, “I am Asterollan.”

I bit the side of my cheek to keep myself from asking if I should call him Ass. “Asterollan,” I tried the name slowly, pausing on the first syllable just long enough for my own amusement. It wasn’t a joke that would translate anyway. I smiled at him, and started walking the way he had gestured before.

As it turned out, the way that we traveled took us away from the river, and up a gently inclining slope that began to loop back. At first I thought we were going to find a way out on the Empire side of the river, but it hit a steep cliff face. From there, it followed the cliff as a narrow ledge. I walked slowly along this part, much to Asterollan’s chagrin. “Can’t you go faster?” he asked at one point.

“I really hate heights and this ledge is really narrow,” I said, attempting to keep the whine out of my voice.

“It’s wide enough to stand on easily. You’re being ridiculous.” I ignored him and kept on at a pace that was comfortable to me, and he sighed in frustration. Soon, the ledge widened out more comfortably. We came to an area of the ravine where tall rock formations criss-crossed the river, and the path we had taken brought us to the top of these formations. Looking down, I could see that the river narrowed and rushed in rapids between steep rocks. It would have been impossible to walk through here from below.

I stared down at the frothing river. “Well, looks like you were right,” I said, feeling relieved.

He said nothing. I glanced up at him to see that he was only frowning, waiting for me to continue walking. With a sigh, I continued along the path. We crossed the river a few times, and had to jump in a few spots where the rock formations did not connect. It got a bit easier, but I always paused for longer than he liked, terrified of the fall if I happened to miss.

Luckily, as it became late in the afternoon, the height of our path shortened. We were coming to an area that widened out, and the rock formations were starting to create a path back to more normal, even ground. Still, the leaping and the fear of heights had tired me out. On the last one, I slipped, and managed to just barely grab the ledge, smashing my chin into the hard rock as I did so. I groaned, but managed to hang on.

Asterollan hopped across nimbly and helped pull me up from the edge. “It’s a wonder you survived this long,” he said, sounding a little amused as he watched me rub my jaw. I continued walking, ignoring his comment, when he continued speaking unbidden. “I did think you were done for when the owl caught you.”

I stopped and looked back at him in surprise. “Silden said he spotted you after.”

“Silden. That would be the tall one I ran through on the ship?” He studied my face for a moment, then said, “You don’t have to give me that look.”

“I am 100% certain that whatever look I give you is no worse than you deserve,” I said before I could stop myself. “But yes, he was the one you stabbed.”

Something in his jaw tightened. “And that was when I saw a human cast for the first time. Quite a light show.” And then he sighed and looked away. “When the owl carried you off, I felt completely lost. I’d only crossed the blasted desert for you. I thought you’d have answers.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment to you.” I turned to continue along the path.

He silently followed.

Soon we were walking alongside the river, following it back the way we had come. I swiveled my head constantly, trying to see if anything looked familiar. “How far did the river carry us?” I grumbled as it started to get dark. “Certainly it doesn’t flow that fast.”

I could hear Asterollan’s steps come to a stop behind me. “I have something of a confession to make,” he said. I turned around, somewhat annoyed, to see a completely new expression on his face. Sheepishness? Embarrassment? He avoided looking me directly in the eyes, and there was some color in his tanned cheeks. I waited for him to speak. “When we fell into the water… I swam hard to find you, but when I reached you, you already had that head wound. I grabbed you, but the current was too strong. I couldn’t get us both to shore safely.” He paused and then looked back at me. “I asked the voice to give me the power to get us both to safety, and there was a flash of light, and we were in that cave.”

I stared at him. I felt a strained smile begin to pull at my face. “Are you telling me that you have no idea where we are?”

“I’m fairly certain this is the same river gorge,” he said, his voice a tad defensive for once.

With a dramatic groan, I dropped to sit on the nearest rock, putting my head in my hands. “You don’t even know if we ended up downriver or not! We could be traveling in the wrong direction!”

With an annoyed look on his face, he pointed north. “The mountains are there, but further away. We ended up downriver of where we were.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

He looked confused at my words. “What?”

I waved away his question. “Never mind!” I snapped. I studied the distant mountains, relieved to see their familiar outline. But sure enough, they were smaller than they had been the night we had camped at the cliff’s edge. A sudden anxiety began to well in my chest, making my heart heavy. If Lyre and the others were okay, what would they do? Would they search for me very long before continuing to the Empire? I had no idea where they would go once they reached freedom. If they gave up on me as lost, would I ever be able to find Lyre again?

10. Lucas

On By MaryIn 2023, WritingLeave a comment

It turned out that magic did not come easily to any of us. Chase started us with some meditation, which was a welcome break after the very physically exerting morning. She spoke calmly to us about finding a center of power and accessing it, but if there was some deep well of power inside of me, I couldn’t sense it at all. Chase wasn’t upset. “In all the records that Raella has studied, no one was able to cast in their first lessons. Magic isn’t natural for any of you like it is for us – we’ve been able to feel it, see it, our entire lives. For you, it’s like being blind and reaching for an item that someone else is telling you is there. You have to take their word for it, and until you accidentally brush against it with your hand, you have no concept of what it actually feels like –  not the texture, or the shape, or the heft. But it’s there. You just have to keep reaching.”

Lexie sighed dramatically and flopped back on the grass, her limbs splayed out. “Man, I really wanted to be great at this. Magic!”

“You will be,” Chase reassured her. “Some of the records say that it takes an awakening for some of the Graced – a moment of danger or extreme emotion that forces you to pull the magic from within you. Raella thinks it’s a little different than normal magic because of it’s divinity. But the basics of it are still there.”

“We’ll also try teaching a few words of Primordial and see if vocalization and gestures help you to cast,” Zolambi said. He was sitting near the bench where Greyjon was napping, watching our lesson intently.

Lexie groaned. “I don’t want to learn a whole ‘nother language.”

Zolambi chuckled. “You won’t have to know the specifics of it. You can say something as simple as “fire, burn” and it directs a flame for you.”

“Why did you choose to learn Primordial for your casting?” Peyton asked.

Zolambi’s features darkened momentarily before his face became unreadable again. “I did not have a choice,” he said simply, but didn’t elaborate. Peyton nodded, taking his tone to mean that he did not want us to press further, and re-settled into lotus pose, closing her eyes to focus on meditating again.

Lexie sat back up. “What do you mean by that?” she asked. I cleared my throat and poked her with my foot. She frowned at me and I frowned back at her and just barely shook my head no. She seemed confused, but didn’t say anything further.

Zolambi seemed lost in thought for a long moment before saying, “Some elves are kept as slaves in the human kingdoms. They are taught to cast using Primordial, and don’t know that vocalization isn’t necessary for magic. I suspect it makes it easier to control them, to keep track of when and what they are casting. As if they don’t have other methods of control.” The earlier concern about the fourth Grace being in human lands seemed to have a very reasonable answer, I realized. But if she was human like us, certainly she’d be fine?

Lexie’s jaw dropped open. Her facial features shifted between a whole array of emotions as she studied Zolambi. Then frowning, she looked away. We were all very quiet for several long moments – I realized I was staring absently at Zolambi’s scar and twisted my head to watch Peyton continue to meditate, seemingly untouched by the entire conversation. Then Lexie growled and tossed herself back on the grass again. “Man, that just pisses me off!” she said. “Maybe I’ll get to set a slaver on fire though.” The slightest twitch of a smile pulled at the edge of Zolambi’s mouth.

“Some people do find it easier to control magic by vocally commanding it. I’ve been teaching Primordial at the University here for some years now,” he said, his tone lightening.

“So how do I say this, ‘fire, burn’ phrase in Primordial?” Lexie asked, sitting up again. Zolambi pronounced the words for her, and she did her best to mimic him with some mild correction. She repeated the words quietly to herself, her eyes closed for several moments. Then she opened her eyes and stood – dramatically sweeping her hand in front of herself and shouting the phrase.

I don’t think any of us were expecting anything to actually happen, but a light enveloped her as she shouted, her voice took on the same strange resonant timber that Zolambi’s did when we had seen him cast, and a short bursting wall of flame sprung up under the path her hand had taken through the air. Chase and Zolambi jumped up, Chase squealing in delight, and Peyton’s eyes flashed open to watch.

“Holy shit, I did it!” Lexie screamed, jumping up and down excitedly. I realized that my mouth was agape and snapped my jaw shut with an audible click. Lexie paused, her eyes wide with wonder and excitement, her face flushed. “I think I can do more! Even without the words,” she said. And this time, without vocalizing, she swept her arm in front of herself again – the light sprung up around her once more and a wall of fire bloomed into existence, spiking out and away from her in a very dangerous, very hot wave.

“Oh, that’s amazing! But oh… oh! Let’s not set the gardens on fire!”  Chase said, also bouncing up and down, as excitable as the younger girl. Lexie nodded, but didn’t seem to know what to do to make the fire go away, so Chase and Zolambi began extinguishing the flames instead.

After the magic lessons, we were given a more extensive tour of the campus. There were several buildings with classrooms and auditoriums, and two dormitory buildings, spread over a sprawling series of courtyards and gardens. We weren’t taken into the buildings themselves, but did see students and teachers walking outside between the buildings and through the gardens, and gathering for outdoor classes or activities. I noticed that we garnered quite a bit of attention, with people pointing at us and whispering to each other. The entire campus was contained within the confines of massive stone walls. The entrance was open, and there was a long building that turned out to be stables set just inside the opening. Immediately outside the entrance of the campus were a few small University owned farms that provided food for the students and teachers, and past that small expanse of land sprawled a city. There were guard towers set along the walls of the campus grounds, but the University did not employ guards or soldiers to man them.

It was from one of these towers that Greyjon showed us the lands beyond the University walls. I watched Lexie lean precariously over the stone ledge, and kept an eye on her balance, ready to reach out and grab the back of her shirt if she started to fall. Peyton stepped up and placed her hands on the ledge – I watched the breeze catch her hair and blow it out of her face, the sunlight catching coppery glints as it shifted. Then I realized I was staring and forced my attention beyond the walls.

“Will we be able to go into the city?” Lexie asked, glancing back at our guides.

Greyjon was leaning against the doorway again, his arms crossed. He stared out at the city, a slight frown on his face, and remained quiet. Zolambi stared passively at Chase. Both seemed to be waiting for her to answer the question. Chase flushed slightly, but then said, “It may not be safe. The ritual isn’t widely known about these days, the tales of the resealing are treated like ghost stories. Only the people here in the University know that it is time and that we have successfully performed the summoning rite. And since it’s not common knowledge, the people in the city might be confused about a human wandering freely in our lands.” I thought about the people that had pointed and stared at us as we toured the campus grounds earlier.

“That’s a bummer.” Lexie sighed and stepped back from the ledge, much to my relief.

“What’s the name of this city?” Peyton asked.

“Rygalium,” Chase said. “It was once the capital of the Empire, but since the Fracture, it rules itself. The grandson of the former Emperor is part of the council that rules the city. Since the University brings in students from across the land, the University Master is also a part of the council and has a lot of say in political affiliations across the city-states.”

“And you, Greyjon – you’re on loan from Kimber? What is that place like?” Peyton turned to lean against the ledge, her hands still on it to support her weight. She was giving her full attention to our guides now.

Greyjon nodded. “Kimber is a smaller city.”

“Most cities are smaller than Rygalium,” Chase noted.

“Yes. Kimber is more militaristic than most. Everyone is trained for battle from a very young age. We’re ruled by a daughter of the former Emperor and her sons. They’re advised by a council of Generals and Warlocks.”

“What distinguishes a Warlock from another mage?” I asked, a bit curious.

“The war part, mostly,” Greyjon said wryly. “They’re powerful mages, that have trained their entire lives to use magic in battle – commanding fire similar to the little wall you created earlier,” he nodded to Lexie, who grinned in acknowledgement, “or putting their minds to applying magic to destruction or force.”

“Most elves can control some degree of basic magic – to give themselves light, or start a fire in a hearth, or conjure water, or make it easier to move small items around,” Chase said, and with a flourish of her hand and an enveloping light, she conjured a small flame in the air. It flickered and danced as she moved her fingers, bound to her will. “But a larger fire requires strength. Directing it farther away from you and toward an enemy requires more refined control. Making sure it burns deeply enough to immolate your enemies…” With a flick of her fingers, the flames snuffed out, and the light enveloping her faded. “It requires more than our natural grasp of magic. It requires power and intent, which requires training.”

Peyton stared at where the flame had been, deep in thought.

Lexie held out her hand and a small flame flickered into life above her palm as the light of magic also enveloped her. She focused on it for a moment before making it disappear. “Yeah, what I did in the courtyard earlier definitely tired me out,” she said.

“As you get used to casting, you’ll get stronger. It’ll take practice and time. But you’re guaranteed to be on par with the most fearsome warlocks. Every Grace is.” Chase smiled. “For now, we should get you back to your tower.”

As we followed Chase and Greyjon down the stairs, Zolambi fell into step behind us and Lexie lingered to walk near him briefly. She was quiet when she spoke, but I could still hear her say, “My ancestors were slaves too. I’m sorry that happened to you.” Glancing back briefly, I could see that Zolambi was studying her curiously, slightly taken aback by the statement. Lexie was staring at the steps in front of her, seeming almost too embarrassed to make eye contact.

Feeling this conversation needed more privacy, I moved forward a bit faster, and if he responded, I didn’t hear it.

Back at the tower, Quince and Alissa provided us with dinner and more water, as well as steaming hot water for the tubs. Alissa briefly admonished me for moving the dishes last night, saying they could handle the clean up, to which I simply shrugged. I wasn’t sure what to say, as I didn’t really feel sorry to help. She narrowed her eyes at me as she gathered most of the dishes.

As he was finishing up cleaning the dining area, I asked Quince about whether they brushed their teeth, and he followed me to my room and showed me some other items I had near the counter, which included a small pot of a gritty paste and a strip of linen rag to rub the paste onto my teeth with. I thanked him again, remembering that Peyton had been the one that had reminded us of that basic nicety, and feeling a bit guilty that I hadn’t thought of it sooner.

When he was gone, I used the paste, and swished some water around my mouth thoroughly to rinse it out. It was fairly salty, and had a herbal taste to it that wasn’t completely unpleasant. Still, it was something I would have to get used to. I kicked off my sneakers and decided to try on the leather boots they had left me. They fit well but were a bit stiff, and would probably hurt my feet until I wore them in properly.

I took them back off and considered taking a bath, but the water was still too hot for my tastes, so I wandered out of my room and upstairs. I was thinking of grabbing the things I had left on the table the night before – not that my wallet or keys would ever be necessary again, but they did hold some sentimental value at least, and a few pictures that I wanted to keep.  As I entered the common room on that floor, I saw that Peyton was there, curled into one of the armchairs with a book.

It looked like she had already bathed and was dressed in a loose nightgown. Her hair was still damp but had been combed out. I paused sheepishly before entering the room, feeling like an intruder, but was glad to see that my keys, phone, and wallet were still on the table. She glanced up at me, and I gestured to the book in her hands. “Can you read it?” I asked curiously.

She nodded. “Everything looks like it’s in English. It hurts my head even thinking about how that’s possible. Are our minds just automatically understanding what we see and hear and translating it? What does it really look like?” She shrugged, lowering the book as she spoke to me, her finger marking the page she was on.

I finally stepped forward to grab my stuff, then hesitated for a moment before sitting on the couch. I looked up to see that she was watching me, her head slightly tilted. “And what’s the book about?”

“It’s a recipe book.” I blinked in surprise, and she chuckled at the expression on my face. “I asked Alissa if she had any books for me to look at. I was curious if I’d be able to read the language. This was all she had though. I probably should have asked Chase earlier, but I didn’t think about it until dinner.”

I nodded. There was a silence for a moment. I wanted to express how impressed I was over how she was handling everything, but suddenly felt worried about coming off as a giddy fanboy, or sounding condescending if I phrased things poorly. I turned my wallet in my hands, feeling the smoothed leather in my palm. “You’ve been handling this all really well,” I finally said, after taking the moments to carefully contemplate my words.

“Have I?” she asked, bemused.

I looked back up at her. “You’ve thought of things very carefully, just based on the questions you ask when you have the chance. You already have skills that are going to help you here. You’ve been incredibly calm throughout, despite how… unreal any of this is. It’s impressive.”

She smiled, a bit sadly. “I don’t feel calm or impressive though.”

I studied her thoughtfully. “That makes sense. But if you aren’t… you’ve held it all together really well.” She nodded, tracing a hand over the cover of the book. I watched her for another long moment before saying, “What do you think of this entire situation?”

She sighed. “I used to daydream about something like this.”

“Who hasn’t? There’s a reason it’s a popular fiction genre these days.”

“True.” She smiled. “But being here is something else. There’s a lot to learn, and a world to save. It’s… daunting. And I get the feeling there are things they’re keeping from us. But they seem so open that I’m having a hard time pinning down what.” She sighed and shifted position in the chair. “Maybe I’m just being paranoid.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. It’s good to have our guard up.” I stood to leave.

“And what about you? While you’re quietly observing all of us… what do you think of all this?” she asked.

I paused by the door and glanced back at her. “I’m not even sure any of this is real.”

Her lips thinned slightly as she considered that as well. “I hadn’t really considered that possibility. I get the sense it is real though. It all feels real.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Of course you’d say that if you were part of the simulation,” I said, only partially teasing. I could hear her laughing as I stepped out onto the stairs.

06. Cassandra

On By MaryIn 2023, WritingLeave a comment

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.

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.