by M. D. Grimm
My magick “muscle” had grown exponentially over the last year. For better or worse, I was becoming more powerful by the day, able to pump sufficient energy into spells and enchantments, able to sustain any spell, no matter how complicated, and able to draw magick from the elements without needing to stop and focus. It was becoming secondhand, as easy as wielding the magick residing inside me. Either I’d been slacking in my studies in the past, which wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, or something happened to me in the past year. Maybe it was Aishe and what we had together, or maybe it was the battles I’d fought, the demands I’d put on myself. Whatever the reason, it was unnerving to know I could fight an elder, and win a duel against one, when he was centuries older than I was.
The more power I gained, the more wary I became. Was I to become the Destroyer and this was only the first step? Was I to become like Nanthar and Kierthak? Or could I, somehow, break the cycle?
I remembered the White Tower and the small town just south of it. They were stamped into my mind. I’d visited only once, after my first phase of training ended, and I was recognized as an independent mage. The intimidation factor had been high, and it was a struggle to appear at ease and not threatened when I felt daggers on all sides. Needless to say, I was able to visualize where we were going well enough to teleport. Otherwise, we would have taken a ship with over a week’s worth of travel. In fair weather. I wasn’t leaving anything to chance.
After appearing just outside the town of Valen, I took a breath and led the way, knowing the town would be filled to bursting with mages of every level. While there was room at the Tower for the elders and other important mages, not everyone got to rest there. Technically, since I was part of the inquiry and Aishe was a witness, we were supposed to stay at the Tower. I wasn’t even giving consideration to that policy. I wasn’t venturing into that den of lutin until absolutely necessary. Olyvre would be there with Uzzie looking after him, so I wasn’t worried. My mentor had sent a querian a couple weeks back, saying he would personally take charge of Olyvre. I was grateful, yet I was still confused in my opinion of him. He’d kept so much from me. I always knew he was a mage full of secrets, and it disturbed me that so many concerned my family, my origins, the sinister nature of my birth. I didn’t appreciate being left in the dark for so long.
The citizens of Valen were exclusively seelas—creatures that birthed mages since mages were sterile—and none of them gave us a second glance, not even Aishe. I remembered there was a tribe of stationary dialen in the plains not far from the town, and there was probably frequent communication between the two.
“Pretty town,” he said. I nodded. It hadn’t changed much since I was last here. That was impressive considering the years between then and now.
Bright color was everywhere, from clothing to the buildings. Ribbons appeared to be the chosen form of decoration since they were tied to poles and posts, and woven in the hair of men and women alike. Ribbons also adorned curtains and the tails of dogs and horses. It was like a rainbow exploded.
We approached an inn, one rather shorter than its neighbors, boasting only three stories with tall windows and a fresh coat of paint, and walked inside. I would have chosen a more mundane abode to put distance between us and other mages, but Valen didn’t have anything that could be considered humble. This was probably as quaint as we were going to find.
The common room was filled with laughter and off-key singing. I winced. It appeared clean and welcoming, and the chairs and tables only had a few nicks and scratches, testament to the occasional brawl and swift action to break up such chaos. I noticed the two beefy seelas standing in separate corners and suspected they were the enforcers of the peace. Enticing smells wafted in from the kitchen. I suppose it wouldn’t torture me to stay here.
“Well met, dear mage.”
I turned around and eyed a buxom female I suspected was our host. She was a curvaceous beauty who knew how to flaunt it. Her dress only emphasized her allure, not hindered by the apron she wore, and her lush brown hair and blood red lips did the rest. She smiled upon seeing me, and I wasn’t surprised she recognized I was a mage on sight. Valen always had mages in attendance; the only thing that changed was the number of them. It was the main reason why the town was so prosperous and contained such luxurious inns. Mages weren’t known for being frugal with their money.
“I’m Mistress Nayla,” she said. “You’re in luck, we have one room still available. It’s quite comfortable and of good size. Your servant can bunk in the kitchen with the others.”
I barely swallowed a laugh as Aishe tensed beside me. Servant, my ass. I kept my expression bland. “Thank you, Mistress, but my servant will be bunking with me. What is the price of the room?”
She took my response in stride, and we got the necessary details out of the way. Nayla led us to the room and told us what they were serving for lunch and supper, then left. I closed the door after she left. Aishe heatedly dropped his bag on the bed. It was a nice room, she wasn’t lying. But my, wasn’t that a small bed? One would think for the money I spent, we’d get a bigger bed. Yet, then again, she did say this was the last one available. Probably because of the small bed.
Aishe grumbled angrily under his breath, and I grinned at him. “Well, servant, what do you think of our accommodations?”
He threw me a dirty look that turned into a sulk. “It’s so insulting and degrading. Undignified, is what it is. Why must they see me as your pet or your servant? Do I look like either?”
I scanned my eyes over him, letting my gaze linger and enjoy what it saw. Considering his sword, daggers, quiver, and bow, I had to think Nayla thought he was my protector or guide or something. Either way: servant.
I met his eyes. “No, you don’t. The foolish and the ignorant outnumber the intelligent and knowledgeable in this world. That’s a fact.”
“I hate it.”
“I hate being looked at as if I was a plague-ridden rodent by my peers.” I shrugged. “Perceptions are just what they are.”
He sat on the bed and nodded. “Will anyone ever see I’m your mate for real and not some... some... plaything of yours? Some toy or whimsy? I’m a warrior, dammit. I can outhunt, outshoot, and outsmart most of them without breaking a sweat.”
“Aye, you can.” I sat next to him and nudged him with my shoulder. “Perhaps it’s best, at least for now, for them to think of you as a plaything. If anyone ever suspected how much you mean to me, you’d become even more of a target than you already are. If I play up you’re just a toy, then they’d be less inclined to come after you. Maybe. It’s worth a shot.”
He frowned but didn’t argue. He understood despite not liking it. “Some have to already know the truth. You protected me fiercely when Elorn tried to throw magick at me. Then there were Dyrc and Nanna, the council enforcers.”
My hands curled into tight fists, my knuckles popped. “Yeah.”
“Elorn also knows you’ve taught me about magick, breaking the mages’ secrecy.”
“Yeah,” I said on a sigh, consciously stretching out my fingers.
“If he has allies, then he would have spread the word by now. I’m important to you, enough to be your weakness. Control me, control you.”
“I’ve already thought of that. The instant I realized I loved you, nearly a year ago, I thought of that. Feared that. But we just have to deal with it. We can at least keep every country bumpkin from targeting you to get to me.”
“I’m not easy to get to.” He kissed my cheek.
“No, you’re not. But mages aren’t like anyone else. Remember that. We have power like payshthas and can be greedy and vindictive like seelas or gVattaren. That’s why I want you to leave after you give your testimony.”
“We’ve been through this, my love. I’m not leaving you. We came here together and we leave together.”
I scowled. “Stubborn jerk.”
“Look in a mirror.”
I glared at him and he glared back at me. I don’t r
eally know how it happened: one second we were irritated with each other and the next we were kissing. Aishe pushed me to the bed and covered me, holding me down. We had to get to the White Tower soon, and yet I enjoyed feeling him against me too much to shove him away. Just a little bit longer.
He rubbed against me, sliding his hand under my clothing. I gripped his ass, rubbing my growing erection against his own, both still encased in our trousers. He pressed down, humping against me. He tightened his grip on my hair, and plunged his tongue deeper into my mouth. The pleasure kept building and building as we increased the friction, deepened the kiss until it was sloppy and messy and extremely wonderful. I felt his hips began to falter and lose their rhythm, and I increased my own speed until we both came, bodies shuddering. He collapsed on top of me, and I only grunted against the impact. I moved my hands to his back and held him tightly, stroking to calm him. Panting heavily, we stayed like that for a short while until my mind stopped whirling. With a word said firmly in my mind, I swept my hand over us and our sticky crotches dried instantly, the cum vanishing. Aishe jerked in response, a surprised sound coming from him. Yeah, that had been an odd sensation.
“We should get moving. Unfortunately.”
He sighed heavily. “Aye. But I’m having you tonight, mage. Your ass is mine.”
I chuckled. “We’ll see, dialen. I just might claim you first.”
He pulled back, hair messy and eyes still hazy. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me to claim your ass.”
I grinned. “I look forward to it.”
***
The White Tower was aptly named. It was a tall, white tower that reflected the sun’s rays, blinding me. It was huge in circumference, easily fitting all the mages of Karishian inside it. Granted, not every mage could make it to the inquiry, but a good many tried. I stood looking at the structure, my stomach in knots. I felt Aishe’s hand touch my back, and I knew it to be his gesture of solidarity and comfort. I liked to think the connection comforted him as well.
Mages in robes of various colors and cuts, of all ages, sizes, and levels, socialized on the large field around the tower. Yet I still stood out, as did Aishe. As we passed, conversations faltered or stopped, and looks of curiosity, suspicion, and open hostility greeted us. I met no one’s eyes and kept my hands firmly locked behind my back. I belonged here, I was invited here. I was not the bad guy this time.
Aishe bent his head toward me. “Why do all the mages have their hands behind their backs? Like you?”
“It’s a non-threatening posture,” I said softly. “Remember, mages need their hands to direct magick. While we can say words of magick in our minds and with our mouths, our hands are priceless tools. We can’t exactly cover the mouth and get anything done, so the hands are symbolically bound. If we clasp our hands behind our backs, it shows we are here in peace. You know a split second can mean the difference between life and death in battle.”
He nodded. It really was mostly symbolic, and I would use whatever cards or leverage I could to show I was willing to play by the rules, that I could be trusted for that at least. I promised myself I would make a solid effort to avoid belligerence.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Suvar. He only glanced my way before continuing his conversation with another mage. I didn’t know what to think about him. I knew Aishe hated him on sight, and I certainly felt indignation at his arrogance, and blatant disrespect and dismissal of Aishe. It was too early to tell, however, if he could be used as a tool or not. If I could string him along long enough, I might be able to use him the way he offered to be used.
I also saw Dyrc and Nanna in separate groups, and my gut burned with hatred, my hands clenching painfully tighter. They were dogs of the council, enforcers sent out to do the elders’ dirty work. I was certain Elder Elorn had sent them nearly a year ago to harass me. It was about two weeks after defeating Kayl and claiming the ruby Rambujek when they arrived, demanding the stone. My relationship with Aishe was in its infancy and the entire conflict nearly drove us apart. Those events felt so long ago, and yet not at all.
“Morgorth!”
I turned my head sharply, tensing further, and then my body eased and I even smiled. Elissya. She strode quickly toward us and didn’t hesitate to fling her arms around me in a tight hug. I laughed slightly and hugged her back.
“This won’t be good for your reputation,” I said in an undertone.
She kissed my cheek before giving Aishe a firm hug. Then she pulled back and held our hands in hers. “It’s all in how you look at it, my friend. Some of their fear of you might rub off on me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That wouldn’t be a good thing.”
She shrugged playfully. “It’s all in how you look at it,” she said again.
Elissya and I were of an age and had apprenticed together under Master Ulezander. As kids, we called him Uzzie in private. We still did, now and then. If he’d known about our foolish nickname for him, he would have blasted our asses. Elissya was also his great-something grandniece of several generations removed. While I was more powerful than her in sheer strength, she was more social, friendlier, and didn’t get death glares from our peers. She was an expert at the subtle stuff, and though she was categorized as a high level two, I considered her to be a high three. She could disarm anyone with her charm and then, quick as a snake, strike. But she wouldn’t do that. She generally liked everyone until they gave her a reason not to. I was the opposite; I hated everyone until they gave me a reason to like them.
Today she wore a conservative blue robe instead of one of her usual vibrant dresses, and the color brightened her eyes and contrasted nicely with her red hair. She was a petite thing, and far stronger than she looked. She’d also been my first lover and I hers. She was my first friend before I even acknowledged I needed or wanted them.
“Uzzie was looking for you. He’s on the north side of the Tower.”
“Right.” I looked at Aishe. “You mind keeping Elissya company?”
“Not at all,” he said easily. He took her hand politely and put it on his arm as if he was her escort. She giggled and cuddled closer to him.
“Hey,” I said.
“I can pretend, can’t I?” she said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “He’s so pretty and all.”
I scowled. He lightly punched my shoulder. “Go find your master.”
Glaring at both of them, I turned and walked through the crowd, past chatting groups, and lone mages staring off in the distance, seemingly lost in thought. I caught snatches of conversation: war between the seela kingdoms of Lacke and Thistley, forest fires, a hurricane off the coast of Cordai. It also sounded as though Mt. Jozep, a volcano far north of us, was becoming more active, though it had laid dormant for hundreds of years. I mentally filed away the information. It was wise to keep an eye on worldly events. One never knew when such an event might sneak up and bite them in the ass.
I glanced back only once to see Aishe and Elissya chattering together with great enthusiasm. I shook my head. I mostly wanted him to stay with Elissya to keep him safe. I would never voice that aloud, yet it eased my mind to have her watch over him even if those two could irk me without even trying. They enjoyed it, too. Yeah, it was funny, sort of. And maybe I allowed myself to play along. The idea of “play” hadn’t been an option as a child, and as I grew older my idea of “play” wasn’t harmless and fun for both parties. Their teasing almost made me feel like any other mage, welcomed and accepted. It wasn’t an illusion I could dwell on for long. I would never be welcomed and accepted. I should be used to it by now. Blowing out a breath, I walked around to the north side of the Tower to find yet more mages. I easily found my mentor and stopped short, observing him.
Master Ulezander was currently speaking to two other elders, the sun shining off his long gray hair and beard, his gold-hooped earring. He wore his hair braided back behind his head, and his beard fell to a sharp point at his waist. He wore the regal purple robes of an elder over
his broad, sturdy body. The robes bore seven golden rings embroidered on the chest. They represented the first seven mages ever born, a symbol of the Council of Mages. Ten mages made up the council, and five of them were part of the Hand. The Hand was the judge, jury, and executioner of mages. Somehow, Master Ulezander maneuvered his way onto both, and I was never under any illusion as to why. My mentor didn’t merely seek the power such positions held, he sought the ability of such a position to protect a certain apprentice he had met so many years before. A young lad full of hate and fear and rage, one who never knew love or kindness, one who called his magick to himself before puberty, a feat deemed impossible.
I was seven years old when he found me, and he saved me from myself.
Taking a deep breath, I approached cautiously, my hands firmly behind my back, my head high. All the elders were on this side of the Tower, and I received guarded looks from most of them. It struck me acutely that I walked amongst those of extreme magickal muscle. There was one very important thing to remember about magick: it was like any other muscle in the body. It had to be exercised, flexed, used, or else it got flabby. Flabbiness was dangerous and could be fatal. If my magick was flabby, and I tried to use a large spell or enchantment, I could end up killing myself or “pulling” something inside my essence, which was oftentimes worse than death. That was one of the main reasons why mages continually sought new spells, creating their own or borrowing from others and modifying. We had to keep challenging our magick, keep the muscle limber and toned. I had plenty of practice, recently, on that score, and considered myself in shape and flexible. Yet, to be among elders made me realize I might have the brute force, but there was also speed, agility, the wisdom of years, the cleverness of age, and the knowledge the world had to offer. I was still very much a student in comparison. My power might nearly be at their level, yet sheer power wasn’t everything.