The Circles of Magic

by Gabriela Fišerová

  Surprisingly Arbane didn’t say the obvious and point out that they couldn’t simply leave the jungle and instead he nodded, narrowing his eyes in thought.

  “I can try to chase them off with my magic but I am unsure I will be able to be direct enough to….”

  He trailed off when he saw Arbane shake his head at him. The human put a finger to his lips, which Feyrith assumed meant he wanted the elf to be silent. He tried not to take offense and waited for the human to explain as Arbane looked up again, before nodding to himself and locking eyes with Feyrith.

  “They’re not moving,” he whispered, pointing his finger at the trees above. Then he wagged his finger at something behind Feyrith. The elf looked back, quickly realizing that Arbane wasn’t actually pointing at anything specific, but instead that he was trying to imply they could travel along the edge of the jungle to put distance between them and the oriam, so they could leave without the birds noticing.

  Feyrith nodded, turning his quasir around and making it walk forward at a very slow pace. Even at this speed, though, every step the quasir took was audible. Every crinkling of leaves and every crack of dry branches on the ground made Feyrith’s chest tighten up. The jungle was far too silent to cover up anything, but hopefully, the oriam would think nothing of it.

  Every so often, there was also a hiss or a crinkling coming from deeper in the jungle, but Feyrith did his best to pretend he couldn’t hear it. They didn’t need more beasts to fight, especially right now, as it would give away their position, and Feyrith didn’t doubt the oriam were smart enough to follow if they wanted to. It was entirely possible they had already lost interest in eating them, but they couldn’t assume that was the case.

  They continued on, walking between ancient tree trunks and vines as quietly as possible for a while longer until they managed to get far enough to hopefully avoid the bloodthirsty birds’ eyes. At least Feyrith hoped so, but he didn’t want to spend a single minute longer in the jungle than they needed to. He looked back at Arbane just to make his intentions clear, to which the human gave a nod.

  With that, Feyrith steered his quasir to the right, the animal increasing its speed at the sight of the grassy field beyond the trees. It clearly wanted to leave as much as Feyrith did. The elf breathed in the much fresher air as they left the jungle behind, giving himself a second to relax before steering the quasir in the direction he thought their camp had been. He couldn’t say for sure, though, despite the better visibility the moon offered them out here. It was still difficult to see anything, but at least Feyrith didn’t feel the urge to jump at every shadow he saw.

  But just as he thought they’d gotten away, he heard a surprised cry from behind him. Immediately looking over his shoulder, Feyrith’s eyes widened at the sight of a huge, winged snake that was about to pounce at Arbane, only stopped by the human’s quick reaction in raising his bow and hitting the snake with it.

  The beast hissed loudly and angrily as it reeled back while Feyrith turned his quasir around as fast as he could. As the winged snake prepared to strike again, Feyrith threw his hand out, yelling the spell to summon a burst of fire without thinking of the consequences.

  The snake hissed again, disappearing before the flames could reach it. But Feyrith didn’t get even a moment of relief after managing to chase the creature off, because the second it was gone, a loud shriek followed.

  Feyrith looked up, just to see the dark shapes of the oriam flying towards them, their claws ready to sink into their flesh.

  “Go!” Arbane yelled at him, forcing his quasir into a sprint. Feyrith didn’t argue, doing the same. But he knew they wouldn’t be fast enough. They couldn’t run faster than the oriam could fly, and they couldn’t take cover anywhere but the jungle, which they couldn’t do because it would mean running right towards the oriam.

  As the birds drew closer and closer, Feyrith kept looking back at them, and the claws shining in the darkness. There was no other way—he needed to do something. This was about as clear a shot as he could get, and he had to take it.

  “Kinri se tah!” he cried again as he pointed his staff at the two oriam, shooting flames at them. More shrieks followed, but while it did slow the oriam down, it was shockingly ineffective. A moment later, the birds were practically at them again, seemingly completely unscathed and ready to rip them apart.

  Perhaps he hadn’t aimed well enough to cause much damage, but then Feyrith’s main goal had been to chase them away. He wasn’t strong enough to use more powerful spells to an extent that would be useful in this situation.

  Feyrith tried again, throwing more fire at the two oriam, even as he felt his strength quickly fading, but they were still coming, getting closer and closer until Feyrith could swear he could feel their claws grasping at his robes when he wasn’t looking at them.

  But just as they were about to finally reach and kill them, suddenly the oriam shrieked again and drew back. He looked up, seeing them circling above for a moment before Feyrith heard the unmistakable swoosh of an arrow flying through the air. More shrieks followed, with the two oriam finally retreating and disappearing from sight.

  Feyrith frantically looked around, trying to find out who had helped them only to spot two people in the distance on quasir, running behind them and quickly catching up.

  Arbane stopped his quasir in its tracks, Feyrith doing the same as they waited for Lanna and Edwyr to reach them. Feyrith took the time to sigh in relief and breathe in deeply. Though the relief was short-lived when he realized that once again he’d been rescued by a Cursed elf. Feyrith sighed again, this time in disappointment with himself. Perhaps leaving out a few details from his report when he got back to Aendor wouldn’t be such a terrible offense.

  As soon as Lanna got close enough, she ran directly up to Arbane and hugged him without even bothering to climb off her quasir.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, her worried voice a little too loud for Feyrith’s taste, though after what had just happened, any predator who might be interested in trying to hunt them had already been alerted to their presence.

  “Yeah, we’re good. Thanks for saving us.”

  How Arbane managed to keep his tone light and joking at this moment wasn’t something Feyrith understood at all. The elf risked a glance at Edwyr who was wearing a worried frown, though he hid it as soon as he noticed Feyrith was looking at him. And then his neutral mask turned into a glare.

  Thankfully before Edwyr had the chance to mock Feyrith about what had just happened, Arbane spoke, voicing what they all must have been thinking. “Now, how about we get to a town? I’m not sleeping out here again.”

  14

  It took Edwyr a moment to figure out where he was when he woke up. The strange room he had been sleeping in almost made him think this was another strange dream before he remembered how he’d gotten here. Right, they had all rented a room at an inn to stay in for the night. Paid for by Feyrith, to Edwyr’s distaste, though now that fact was more of an annoyance to him than the night before. Edwyr had been too tired to care at that time, but now he certainly did.

  It wasn’t even the fact that Feyrith had paid that was the issue, though. No, what irked Edwyr about it was that to pay for it, Feyrith had turned a rock into gold—the same thing those bandits had wanted him to do, and apparently now it had been morally correct because it served to help Feyrith see his mission through.

  So in other words, using magic was acceptable as long as an elf did it for themselves. Edwyr shook his head. Yes, he was being unfair in that assessment, and he realized it, but with Feyrith acting like he was better than Edwyr, he didn’t feel like being fair.

  He sighed, staring up at the wooden beams of the ceiling. The room was small but cozy, with its wooden walls and small window above the bed, letting the sun’s morning beams in. He could hear muffled voices coming from downstairs, but he instead focused on the birdsong he could hear from the outside.

  It made everything seem so peaceful when Edwyr closed his eyes.
But the outside world was anything but peaceful. And based on their experience yesterday, perhaps it was getting even less so than ever before. Or was the situation truly so different here, even though they’d been traveling south for only a few days?

  As much as he hated to admit it, the reason Sunwood was relatively safe was because of how close it was to Aendor. It was also the reason many human settlements were in that part of the continent. But Edwyr had never heard of it being quite this dangerous in this region.

  Why had those tigers even attacked them? They were known for being deadly and hostile, yes, but only when someone was foolish enough to venture deep enough into the jungle to come across them. The fact that they had simply been out in the open like that…. It was unnerving and concerning, to say the least.

  On the way over here, they had also almost gotten attacked by two packs of wolves and a scalewing, but thankfully Feyrith had managed to chase off all the beasts with fire. Edwyr would have made a snide comment about that being all the other elf knew how to do, but he full well realized that using fire magic the way Feyrith had been was impressive on its own.

  For all Edwyr’s talk about how incompetent Feyrith was, the elf’s main shortcoming was truly only his lack of experience with the world outside that little magical island of theirs. Edwyr still remembered his time there, and therefore he knew full well that an average elf of Edwyr’s age would have trouble summoning shielding spells. And Feyrith was likely younger than him.

  Edwyr ran a hand over his eyes, breathing in and out deeply. He couldn’t believe he was thinking like this. Only yesterday he could barely stand to look at Feyrith, and now he was trying to be fair to him. Perhaps it was everything else that had been going on that was making Edwyr too mentally preoccupied to keep up with his dislike of the elf.

  He frowned, suddenly realizing something. He hadn’t actually dreamed anything this time, had he? So did that mean his meeting with Wyn had actually happened? He was still questioning it, despite the logical evidence that it had happened. Simply the fact that Edwyr had never dreamed before should be proof enough, but the idea that another elf would be interested in talking to Edwyr without absolutely needing to was incredibly strange.

  But perhaps Wyn had been lying when he’d said that he’d simply wanted to meet Edwyr. Perhaps whoever he worked for needed him for some reason, though that thought was ridiculous enough to make him want to laugh. No one needed a Cursed—a magicless—elf for anything. That was the entire problem.

  Never in his life did Edwyr have so many questions. Yes, his existence had never been an easy one to bear, but at least he understood it. And now he felt like he understood nothing at all, and no one was willing to explain anything to him, either out of a distrust towards him, or to manipulate him.

  Edwyr could understand the former, but his pessimistic side was leaning more towards it being the latter. For years he’d been left alone and forgotten and now suddenly both the Council and Wyn were interested in him. It was very strange.

  He wondered if Feyrith knew anything about who this Wyn person might be. Or that woman, come to think of it. There wasn’t a convenient way to ask without drawing attention to himself, but Feyrith seemed naïve—perhaps Edwyr could make do somehow. It would help to know at least something about Wyn and what he might want before Edwyr got involved in whatever this was.

  It was just very suspicious that they wanted him for something. Any normal elf could do much more than Edwyr, so what could they possibly want him for? It didn’t add up, and Edwyr would do his best to be as suspicious as possible.

  Heaving another sigh, he sat up, rubbing his eyes and pulling the linen bedcovers off himself. He did feel very rested, but unlike Lanna and Arbane, he’d never been one for mornings, or getting up in general. Still, he was glad for at least the rest itself. They still had a long way to go if they were to get to that ruin.

  Before Edwyr could start wondering just what exactly was going on with the ruin in general, he shook his head and got up and put on his armor as quickly as he could, pulling all of the leather straps taunt with barely a thought. He absently ran his fingers over the few metal plates that were attached to the leather in the front, noting how scratched up this part of the armor was.

  He was sure Feyrith could fix that, but there was no way Edwyr would ask him to. Arbane or Lanna would probably tell Edwyr something sentimental about battle scars and whatnot, but he had never understood that. Sure, this was mostly cosmetic damage from years of wear and tear, but if he had enough extra coin to get new armor, he likely would have by now.

  Edwyr collected the rest of his things, putting on his belt with his dagger and slinging his bow over his shoulder before leaving the room. He walked down the corridor, only briefly looking over the three closed doors, which he assumed lead to similar rooms to the one he’d slept in, before reaching the wooden staircase at the end of the corridor and heading downstairs.

  He could already hear Lanna and Arbane talking loudly before he even got to the bottom of the stairs, making it very easy to find them. Unfortunately, Edwyr’s mood worsened as he also heard Feyrith talk in his much softer, neutral tone.

  Edwyr really wasn’t liking that his friends were being so welcoming to Feyrith. It wasn’t surprising, but he would silently disapprove anyway.

  “Hey, Edwyr!” Arbane greeted him as soon as he saw him. He was grinning at him with such delight that it made it hard for Edwyr to keep up his annoyed attitude. But all he needed was to look over at Feyrith to ruin his mood all over again.

  Edwyr sat down at the table they had chosen in the corner by a window, ignoring everything else around him. The inn was half empty, but with their group now including two elves, he knew people were bound to stare at them. It was definitely for the best to stay out of sight as much as possible.

  “Slept well?” Lanna asked, also grinning. Edwyr envied their enthusiasm.

  “Surprisingly.” He looked over at Feyrith, who was all of a sudden staring out the window and definitely avoiding Edwyr’s gaze. He was sort of pleased by that, though he didn’t give it much thought as all of his attention was immediately taken up by the food that was on the table in front of him on a wooden plate.

  The dough it was made of looked like small braids, and it was also clearly fried up, judging by their brownish gold color. But strangely the pastry smelled sweet. Humans never failed to puzzle and surprise him, did they?

  “Oh, you have to try these,” Lanna said, pointing at the pastries with a look of awe. Edwyr was confused to say the least, but he did pick up one of the ‘braids’, biting into it. His eyes widened at how much sweeter it was than he would have thought, immediately frowning down at what was left of it.

  “It’s good, right? The innkeeper called them sweetbraids.” Then Lanna proceeded to nudge Arbane with her elbow. “We have to make this when we get home.”

  Edwyr let out an amused huff. One could count on humans to give things the most straightforward names, while also making needlessly complicated food. Simply the idea of frying anything in fat was very strange, no matter how good it tasted, so whoever decided it was a good idea to do it with sweet, bread-like food must have been drunk at the very least.

  Humanity’s fascination with food was intriguing in itself because they struggled to make do every day while also fending off whatever beast may try to either kill them or steal from them, and yet they found the time to invent new types of food, while elves could create things simply with their magic, but stuck to bread and water for the most part.

  “You sure you don’t want any, Fae?” Lanna asked the elf, who immediately looked up, his eyes wide. He took a moment’s glance at the sweetbraid Lanna was holding out to him, but almost immediately he shook his head.

  “No, thank you.”

  Edwyr didn’t like that his friends had given Feyrith a nickname. He had at first, as it seemed to make Feyrith confused and maybe a little uncomfortable, but now it simply served to irritate Edwyr, and he couldn’t quite
figure out why exactly.

  “Oh, come on,” Arbane told him, taking a sip from his mug of milk while never taking his eyes off Feyrith. “I know you elves are all weird with your food—”

  “We are not weird—”

  “—but these really are good.”

  Edwyr was torn between enjoying Feyrith’s obvious discomfort and feeling annoyed with Arbane’s instance on staying nice and patient. Edwyr truly didn’t understand why his friend bothered. Feyrith would likely not appreciate it, anyway, simply because elves tended to see humans as less than them.

  But surprisingly enough, Feyrith’s expression seemed to change from confusion to hesitant curiosity as he peered closely at the pastries. Edwyr rolled his eyes, choosing to look around instead. The inn was actually not as empty as he’d thought as first because of how quiet everyone was being, not going beyond murmuring.

  A few people immediately ducked their gaze as soon as Edwyr looked at them, but at this point Edwyr would have been shocked if that hadn’t happened, so he barely paid attention to it. He wondered if they had already managed to pester Feyrith and ask him to fix their problems. He was sort of hoping they had, especially since now Edwyr wouldn’t have to deal with those types of requests as long as Feyrith was nearby.

  “I shouldn’t,” Feyrith said, finally responding to Arbane’s encouragement. Edwyr was honestly surprised he had even bothered continuing the pastry discussion. “We aren’t supposed to.”

  Edwyr locked his gaze with Feyrith’s when he’d said this, narrowing his eyes at the subtle, disapproving look the other elf was giving him. But instead of telling Feyrith to mind his own business, Edwyr decided to take another bite of the pastry in his hand and letting that speak for itself.

  Feyrith’s look of disapproval immediately turned into annoyance. Good.

  “Why not?” Lanna asked, apparently completely missing the way the elves were looking at each other. But Edwyr was glad because he didn’t want to talk about it again. He realized Lanna was completely right about Edwyr needlessly giving Feyrith a hard time, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself, anyway.