by M D Baker
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
© 2020 M D BAKER ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Edited by Casey J. Fenich, Thoth Editing
Digital book(s) (epub and mobi) produced by Booknook.biz.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Curiosity might’ve killed the cat, but it sure as hell wasn’t doing me any favors. As a servant in the household of Lord Aldon, I might’ve known better, but poking my nose into places it didn’t belong was a bad habit of mine. I should’ve been grateful for the opportunity Lady Valda gave me; taking in a stray orphan had been an uncommon act of charity on her part. While changing bed linens and cleaning out chamber pots wasn’t much of a life, it was a significant step above the back-breaking and frequently dangerous work endured by the common folk living outside the relatively safe confines of Blackwood Keep.
Thoughts of what my life might’ve been like had my mother survived were a frequent diversion, especially while I methodically performed the mind-numbing drudgery of polishing the already gleaming silver or dusting the immaculate shelves of Valda’s private library like I was at the moment. Aside from tending to more necessary duties, she insisted I perform these additional chores on a regular basis, without any regard for whether or not they truly needed to be done.
According to custom, the Lady maintained an appropriate distance from her servants, yet she still managed to display a certain warmth and kindness towards them—save for one in particular it seemed. It was as if she was intent on making up for her lone act of kindness by foisting useless tasks upon me. The senseless busywork wasn’t the only indication of her apparent resentment; Lady Valda’s cold demeanor towards me stood out like a frozen shard of ice in a field of summer wheat.
Although they’d been married for nearly two decades, the Lady had yet to bear Lord Aldon any children. Perhaps it was this failure looming over her that was the source of Valda’s resentment. After his first wife’s untimely demise, the Lord remarried fairly quickly, seeking to secure the future of his vast estate with an heir. Having produced no child of her own, Lady Valda’s spite seemed to settle on me, the unclaimed product of some lowly peasant union that mocked her barren womb.
Once I’d finished wiping down the shelves, I began walking towards the door, relieved to finally be done with the meaningless task. Daylight was already fading, and if I hurried, I’d have a little time to myself after grabbing a quick supper from whatever leftovers were in the kitchens. Most of my days were consumed by my labors, so the few spare moments I had were a rarity that I cherished with all my heart. It wasn’t as if I had much to occupy that time, but it was mine; one of the few things that no one could take away from me. Unfortunately, before I could reach the door, something caught my eye, and my inquisitive nature got the better of me.
Surrounded by high bookcases, a thin tome bound in soft, brown leather lay upon the reading table in the center of the chamber. Its mere presence was an oddity; Lady Valda seldom left her works lying about. The strange oversight piqued my interest, and before I even realized what I’d done, my feet had already brought me closer, and my fingers reached out to stroke the book’s supple binding. The allure of its smooth surface proved too much to resist, and after a quick glance to ensure that the door was still tightly shut, I pulled open the cover to peer at what lay inside.
The feel of raw parchment between my fingers as I leafed through the first few pages was an unusual sensation, one I’d never felt before. There was something unique about it that I couldn’t place, and even though I was unable to decipher the strange lettering, the meticulously graceful twists and turns of the wandering patterns of ink tugged at something deep inside me, beckoning for me to look even further. Despite my growing inquisitiveness, giving in to that temptation wouldn’t be without its risks. Lady Valda expressly forbade any of us from even touching her precious books, let alone soiling their margins with our filthy fingerprints. Should I be discovered, I’d be lucky to escape with only a severe beating. It would be well within the Lady’s rights to take one or possibly both of my hands as a consequence of violating her clear restrictions. Swallowing the solid lump of apprehension in my throat, I spared another look at the doorway before flipping to the next page.
Although I’d never been taught how to read, the indecipherable jumble of letters suddenly shifted into focus, resolving into recognizable words that began flowing through my mind. Along with the knowledge they brought, a slow trickle of energy raised gooseflesh across my skin while an icy-cold chill of doom crawled its way down my spine. I’d been fumbling my way through a book of magic, and its worn pages had done more than open me up to the world of spells and incantations—they’d sentenced me to certain death.
My hands fluttered like leaves caught in a whirlwind as I slammed the cover shut, careful to ensure that it was just the way I’d found it before I fled into the hallway. Numb legs carried me down the stairs to the tiny chamber where my bed lay against the cold stone of the Keep’s outer wall, unremarkable save for its lone window overlooking the confluence of the three great rivers in the distance. Like almost everything else, the room wasn’t truly my own; I only had the use of it by the grace of Lady Valda, a bare courtesy she was free to revoke without notice. While most of her servants shared quarters with at least one other, I’d been sequestered away all alone. It served as yet another clear indication of her disfavor, ensuring that I had few real friends. While most treated me decently, in light of Lady Valda’s obvious scorn, no one dared to become too closely associated with me.
Although I’d skipped the one chance I had for an evening meal, hunger was the least of my concerns. Alone in the growing darkness, my only thoughts were of how soon and in what manner my death would come. The ever-present tingle of magic soaking into my skin only reminded me of how royally I’d fucked myself.
It wasn’t an elegant phrase, and Lady Valda certainly wouldn’t approve, but my sins went far beyond any lack of refinement. Magic was profoundly rare, and its use was restricted to only those of noble birth and their most loyal and trusted servants. While every high-born was probed for the talent, it was a rare honor for one of the common folk to be tested for the ability. Those who somehow gained access to its power without the consent of their betters were most often slaughtered for the offense. Or at least that was their fate if they didn’t burn themselves out first.
The subtle but continuous flow of energy leaching into me was a powerful reminder that even if I somehow managed to keep the secret, the magic alone would kill me soon enough. Even in my ignorance, I was certain of that much. It was common knowledge that spellcasters were required to expel their energy on a regular basis to prevent it from causing them harm. Those with the gift used it prodigiously, often wielding its incredib
le power to perform even the most mundane tasks. Those acts were no simple parlor tricks; they served a far greater purpose than impressing whoever might witness them. Bleeding off excess magic was an act of self-preservation, but without any spells to cast, I had no means of venting the mystical forces that were already beginning to build up inside me. Once they reached a critical level, my body would no longer be enough to contain them, and they’d burst forth, tearing me apart in the process.
As it had done on so many previous occasions, my inquisitive nature led me down the path of ruin. Unlike those instances, this time, the consequences would be far more than the usual stern rebuke and humiliation I’d faced before. The thought of confessing my transgression to Lady Valda flickered through my mind for a moment—not that I imagined she’d show me any leniency, but the swift end at the headsman’s axe was more merciful than being burned alive by the mystical energies within me.
Tears streamed down my cheeks, soaking my pillow as the inevitability of my death slowly settled. But once that certainty sank in, it came with a sense of resignation that was surprisingly liberating. For the first time in my life, I had literally nothing to lose; the fact that I was already dead left me beyond the fear of any reprisals. I might’ve been doomed, but my fate was finally in my own hands.
The realization made the path forward perfectly clear: my transgression that day would only be the first of many. The pointless chores I’d been assigned left me with nearly unfettered access to the Keep’s library, and now that its greatest secrets had been unlocked, I intended to take full advantage of that tiny sliver of freedom. Lady Valda might’ve controlled every aspect of my life, but I wasn’t going to give that pompous bitch the satisfaction of presiding over my death as well.
Chapter 2
I woke early the next morning, and once I’d gotten dressed, I ran down to the kitchens for a bite to eat before starting on my nearly endless set of chores for the day. After skipping supper, I was famished and wolfed down two full bowls of lumpy porridge. With the rumblings of my stomach put to rest, I trudged back up the stairs to begin scrubbing floors and emptying chamber pots.
Despite the awful monotony of the tasks, I hurried my way through them, eager to complete the menial labor for once. If I finished quickly enough, I could return to the library using the cover of my duties to search for some way out of my trouble. The constant prickling sensation of the magical energy leeching through my skin had faded a little as I’d grown more accustomed to the flow, but it was always there to remind me of the silent clock ticking away inside me. Learning even a single spell would be enough to slow its relentless movements, rescuing me from the consequences of my rash actions.
Once my chores were taken care of, I suppressed my burning desire to rush to the library and returned to the kitchens instead. The rare opportunity for a midday meal wasn’t one I could easily pass up, and I figured that my ‘studies’ might take up the remainder of the day, forcing me to miss supper yet again. While the cook’s attention was distracted by a pot threatening to boil over, I snatched a loaf of bread on my way out, hiding the pilfered loot in one of the many pockets sewn into the broad folds of my skirts. The crime was one that would be severely punished if it was discovered, but I smiled as I made my way back upstairs, realizing that threat no longer held any sway over me.
“Don’t think I didn’t see you, Mara.” My steps ground to a halt when Bria turned from her stove to glare at me meaningfully.
Her lips curled into a smile before I could fumble a response. “Go. Take it. You’re scrawny enough as it is.”
“T-thank you,” I stammered, adding a quick “sorry” as I rushed up the stairs.
After climbing to nearly the top of the Keep’s lone spire, I paused outside the library doors, hesitating to take the one last step that would solidify my heresy. For all its weight, my original transgression had been one of ignorance, but I now teetered on the precipice of my first real act of treason. Wavering in a moment of indecision, I made a rude gesture in the general direction of Lady Valda’s chamber above before yanking open the heavy door and walking through with my head held high.
If I were to be damned, it would be on my terms, not hers.
Even with the firmness of my new-found resolve, my steps grew cautious as I searched among the bookshelves for the volume that was the source of all my troubles. Although it had woken the dormant magic lying inside me, I had no idea whether or not it would also contain the key to taming the unrelenting flow of energy. I just had no better place to begin my search for those answers. If it came down to blindly fumbling my way through the thousands of tomes stored upon the library’s overflowing shelves, the few grains of sand left in the tiny hourglass of my life would likely run out long before I solved that riddle. Fortunately, Lady Valda hadn’t visited since I’d left the night before, and I found the book still lying right where I’d left it, perfectly framed by a square of light streaming in through the window. Breathing out a sigh of relief, I sat down and pulled open its first page.
I’m not sure I can say that I ‘read’ the words. It was more like they spoke themselves to me. Turing page after page as each section echoed inside my head, the book slowly yielded its secrets, revealing the true workings of the curse that had been bestowed upon me. Somewhere in the dark thicket of my lineage lay a powerful sorcerer, one whose talent I’d inherited—a ‘blessing’ passed down silently for many generations before finally rearing its ugly head. At least that was my assumption based on how such things worked among the common folk. No recent ancestor of mine would’ve been tested for such a rare and valuable gift.
The vague generalities disclosed in the introduction were nothing new to me. Although magic could sometimes surface randomly, the ability had a strong hereditary tendency, recurring with the greatest frequency among female descendants of a particular line. While noble families were most prominent in that regard, trusted retainers who shared the trait were a highly prized commodity. Lord Aldon himself lacked the skill, though it ran through his family like wildfire, while Lady Valda was uncommonly gifted in the art. Their union was meant to produce an heir of remarkable strength, but it had yet to do so. The misfortunes of my so-called betters were of no concern to me, so I pushed into the next chapter, hoping that I might find more useful information there.
My interest grew as more details were revealed. In addition to reviewing the process of how mystical aptitude could be uncovered, the tome described the absorption of its energies. Radiating from literally everything around me, the power of the elements leached into my skin from all directions. In addition to Fire, Air, Earth, and Water, Life and Death themselves completed the full spectrum of the powers that had begun filling up my insides. Despite the urgent need to discover more, I paused for a moment, overwhelmed by the discovery. My throat went dry at the thought of Death coursing through my veins, and I nearly tore the next page when my trembling fingers finally reached out to turn it.
Unfortunately, the subject matter continued on its downhill slide, describing the phenomenon of burnout in excruciating detail. Although it offered the dubious help of outlining some of the earliest symptoms, they were maddeningly vague. Anything from emotional effects like agitation or melancholy to physical signs such as pain and weakness were potential indicators of what the book referred to as ‘overload.’ The only common thread was the inevitable consequence of not addressing the issue—a very grim and excruciating death as the competing magical energies fought with each other for the right to tear me apart. The reference to the empty shell left behind in their wake was no euphemism; the precise descriptions went on to paint a painfully thorough picture of what little remained of a ‘burnt-out’ sorceress. Beneath a nearly intact outer layer of skin were only blackened bones and charred flesh, the scorched remnants of a once-living person who’d suffered through horrific torment.
After making the point so clearly, the book finally went on to deal with resolving the problem. Although there were more advance
d techniques, ‘bleeding off’ the accumulated energy via spells was the easiest and most commonly utilized solution. The fact that these incantations didn’t actually require any spoken words or odd gestures came as a shock. Every bit of magic I’d ever witnessed had been accompanied by those actions. Apparently, they were merely devices used to aid novices in maintaining their focus, needless flourishes that were maintained to baffle and awe the ill-informed. Properly focused thoughts and applying the appropriate energy was all that were truly required to invoke the mystical powers. It was my first glimpse into the deeper workings of magic, yet also a disquieting revelation in many ways. Deception on such a grand scale had more than one purpose; keeping the masses ignorant of a fundamental reality was probably only one of them.
Turning another page before my mind could wander too far down that path revealed the first spell, and everything came to a screeching halt as its words poured through my head. The simple bit of magic had an equally mundane name: Push. Doing more or less what it said, casting the spell would allow me to manipulate an object using only my mind and a tiny portion of the increasing mystical energy growing inside me. I’d barely taken in the words when the sound of light footsteps marching up the stairs echoed outside the library door, and I slammed the book shut as I hurried away from the table.
Lady Valda spared only a quick glance in my direction as she swept into the room, flawlessly elegant as always. The slender outline of her long, blue dress barely ruffled, and not a single strand of her perfectly arranged hair dared to fall out of place as she glided across the floor. Self-consciously brushing back the scattered strands of auburn draping unbound across my shoulders, I pretended to wipe down the shelves as Valda’s coal-black eyes stared intently at the leather-bound volume I’d left behind.
“Are you done, Amarrah?” The Lady made a point of addressing me by name, never stooping so low as to use the more familiar ‘Mara’ like most others did. Her annoyed tone made it quite clear that there was only one appropriate answer to the question she’d posed.