The Circles of Magic

by Gabriela Fišerová

  “I have asked the locals,” Feyrith said, staring intently at the pond. Edwyr could already tell this would be a long lecture. “This pond is entirely artificial. They’d brought water here by themselves, without any magic. Incredible, is it not?”

  Seeing the genuine interest and fascination in Feyrith’s blue eyes, Edwyr suddenly found it incredibly difficult to get annoyed with him. Despite his complete lack of tact, Feyrith truly did care, didn’t he? Beyond just his duty, Feyrith cared about humans. That was much stranger than Edwyr had thought at first. He’d simply assumed Feyrith saw humans as nothing more than a curiosity, perhaps something to study, but he seemed in awe of them—of what they could do, despite not having magic.

  Edwyr had always seen it as the summation of everything that was unfair about the world instead. So much work and thought went into everything humans did and had to do because they couldn’t simply wave a staff, say a few words and fix all of their problems, and it made Edwyr angry every time he thought about it.

  Perhaps he and Feyrith should swap lives for a while. He seemed to enjoy being around humans much more than Edwyr. But perhaps that had more to do with Feyrith being here by choice than anything else.

  As Edwyr studied Feyrith, he tried to figure out why he wasn’t angry or even irritated by his presence at the moment. But perhaps he was simply too tired and mentally preoccupied to do so. Either way, he was glad because it was exhausting.

  Feyrith cleared his throat, looking at Edwyr directly. “I…wanted to apologize for what I said. In Everward.”

  Edwyr’s eyebrows rose up, his eyes widening in surprise. That wasn’t what he’d thought Feyrith would say. Ever.

  “I meant nothing by it. But I apologize for…upsetting you.”

  Feyrith was keeping his gaze glued to the pond now, clearly to avoid having to look at him. Edwyr felt an urge to turn this all around and throw it back in Feyrith’s face, but he knew that was only a kneejerk reaction. Edwyr didn’t truly want to do it, and even though he’d already known that Feyrith hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, it was still nice to hear him realize the problem and apologize for it.

  Still, Edwyr couldn’t help but feel a bit bitter. He was sure Arbane or Lanna had put Feyrith up to this, but he supposed he should take what he could get. It was the first apology he’d ever gotten from another elf, at least since he’d been deemed Cursed, which was monumental in itself, he supposed. It didn’t feel that way, but there was nothing to be done about that.

  “Okay,” Edwyr replied, letting out a sigh. “Apology accepted.”

  Feyrith looked surprised, but he bowed his head at him without a word. Edwyr took a moment to appreciate how much lighter this conversation had made him feel, though very soon, the silence became uncomfortable and stifling. And since Feyrith didn’t seem to want to say anything, Edwyr had to do it himself.

  “Why are you out here in the middle of the night, anyway?”

  Feyrith’s shoulders seemed to relax a little as he straightened his back. Edwyr almost laughed. He’d thought Feyrith would appreciate the change of subject.

  “I woke up a while ago to a noise.” Feyrith proceeded to narrow his eyes in thought. “I went to investigate, but I found nothing, and so I thought I could use the time to explore this town since I was awake already.”

  Edwyr frowned. A noise? That could have been anything, but it must have been something strange or unusual to make Feyrith go investigate it. Edwyr’s immediate thought was that this was somehow related to his dream, but he pushed that thought away. That was completely ridiculous. How would a noise even relate to it?

  He was getting paranoid.

  Still, since he was now thinking about the topic, perhaps he could use this moment of him and Feyrith alone to finally ask about Wyn. He would have to be incredibly subtle about it, however. Feyrith wasn’t stupid, and he would pick up on something not being quite right if Edwyr wasn’t careful.

  “Why are you awake, if I may ask?” Feyrith said, not looking suspicious in the least. Good, at least he didn’t suspect anything odd was happening for now.

  “I’m not sure. I couldn’t sleep so I went on a walk,” Edwyr replied, hoping that that would be enough of an explanation. If he were human, he could have simply excused it by having had a bad dream, but obviously, as an elf that would only raise more questions. He would have probably been able to use his affliction as an explanation since Feyrith likely wouldn’t know any better, but it was better not to risk it.

  “I see.” Feyrith let out a small, barely noticeable sigh. “Well, I suppose I will leave you to your walk, then.”

  Edwyr grimaced. Dammit, he needed to talk with Feyrith. But being so direct about it would seem strange, given how he’d treated him up until now. If only he had been better at keeping his anger and resentment to himself. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind if I could talk to you about something.”

  Feyrith eyes widened almost comically, his bright blue irises turning into thin circles. “Truly?” There was both shock and confusion in his tone, even if it was as subtle as ever. But without questioning it further, Feyrith bowed his head again. “Very well. What would you like to talk about?”

  Great, now Edwyr had to scramble to put together some kind of inconspicuous question, or at least stall for long enough to distract Feyrith into not thinking anything of the question later.

  Thankfully, he was somewhat skilled in improvisation. “How old are you?”

  Edwyr assumed the other elf would be shocked once again, but he seemed confused if anything. “Twenty-three.”

  Edwyr did his best not to let his surprise show on his face. That was even younger than he’d thought. He hadn’t even been aware it was possible to ascend the ranks so quickly. “And you were accepted into the Third Circle?”

  Feyrith’s rather passive expression immediately became much more forced. Edwyr wished it wasn’t so dark, so he could more easily spot the subtle changes on Feyrith’s face because right now he couldn’t tell if the other elf looked nervous or sad. Was he not supposed to tell Edwyr these things? Because Edwyr already knew most of how the elven society worked, for better or for worse, so it wouldn’t matter.

  “Yes,” Feyrith finally confirmed, now very obviously avoiding Edwyr’s eyes once again. “That is why I am here. To prove I am worthy of the Council’s trust in me.”

  It would have been so easy to use what Feyrith had just said against him, to mock him. He had been supposed to get help from Edwyr, but surely the Council didn’t actually believe that Edwyr would lend it—not without something in return, and nothing had been offered. Which meant that if Edwyr hadn’t come along, Feyrith would have failed not even a third of his journey in. And even if the Council had been too preoccupied with their egos and assumed Edwyr would help, then that meant that this mission rested on the shoulders of a Cursed elf. And none of this was exactly proof of Feyrith’s worth, was it?

  Spelling any of this out would have hurt Feyrith, likely more than he had hurt Edwyr by needlessly and without a thought pointing out his lack of magic. Edwyr would be completely justified in saying it. But he didn’t.

  He wasn’t even sure why, but his usual automatic reaction, which would be to take this opportunity immediately, was nowhere to be found. Perhaps it was because Feyrith looked miserable enough already, from the way he kept staring off somewhere above Edwyr’s shoulder blankly.

  “Your skill with magic seems…impressive,” Edwyr admitted, almost not needing to grit his teeth as the words left his lips. He’d mostly said it because he wasn’t sure what else to say at the moment, but it was still true, no matter how much he wanted to pretend otherwise. Edwyr just wished admitting it didn’t make him feel quite so hollow inside.

  “It doesn’t seem to be enough,” Feyrith muttered quietly to himself as he bowed his head, but in the silence of the night, Edwyr could easily hear him anyway. He blinked, shocked that Feyrith had just admitted that outright, but he wasn’t surprised when Feyrith schooled his face
back into perfect neutrality. “Your skill in combat is also impressive, considering….”

  Edwyr would have gotten annoyed at once again being reminded of his situation, but he supposed he would accept it, as Feyrith had clearly meant it as a compliment. Elves in general weren’t very good at giving those, after all.

  “Thank you. I think.”

  Surprising Edwyr again, Feyrith’s neutral mask slipped once more, his eyes turning sad as he let out a soft sigh. “No, I truly mean that.” He then bowed his head again, but it didn’t quite look like the normal bow the elves did. The gesture seemed more akin to when humans did it in either sorrow or dismay. “I never thought a…an elf like you could be so capable.”

  Edwyr wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was he supposed to feel flattered, or insulted that Feyrith, and likely all the other elves, thought he would be completely useless? But before he could react in any way, Feyrith looked up again, the spark of realization in his eyes. “Oh, I still have the letter Councilor Hellan gave me to give to you.”

  “Keep it,” Edwyr said immediately when he saw Feyrith start to reach for his satchel. He hated that a part of him was morbidly curious what the councilor had written to him. After all, what could they possibly tell him to convince him to help one of their people after they’d exiled him?

  But even then Edwyr wanted nothing to do with this or the Council. Especially not now that there was possibly an alternative to living among the humans for him. Edwyr could only speculate on who Wyn actually was, but he was an elf, and he wasn’t affiliated with the Council. Unless that was a lie, but Edwyr doubted it—after all, what could they possibly stand to gain by misleading him like this?

  But whatever this all meant, Edwyr wanted to find out, and so he had as much of an interest in reaching the ruin as Feyrith did. Whatever offer the Council might have tried giving him, Edwyr could feel it in his bones that whatever Wyn had meant by his destiny would be much better.

  But that brought Edwyr back to the question of who Wyn was, and with no subtle way of asking Feyrith.

  “Well, if you’re certain….” Feyrith sounded a little disappointed, but definitely not surprised. “I will do my best to talk about you as favorably as possible in my report when I travel back to Aendor. Despite being…disadvantaged, you are doing what our core mission is supposed to be—helping humans—and your efforts should be recognized.”

  Edwyr was starting to wonder if Feyrith was drunk. He didn’t think Feyrith had drunk anything alcoholic, despite the celebration only a few hours prior, but it was starting to sound like a genuine possibility.

  “Don’t bother. The Council won’t care,” Edwyr said, waving his arm dismissively. “And I doubt they would appreciate it.”

  Feyrith’s face stayed perfectly neutral, but if Edwyr didn’t know any better, he could swear his eyes had turned almost resentful for a second. “I might be forced to return to the Second Circle after this, anyway. After what happened….”

  Edwyr respected that Feyrith was so honest about it and that he actually said it in the first place. Clearly, it had taken effort, though instead of being angry with the Council, Feyrith seemed to be angry with himself. Edwyr didn’t like that very much.

  But he couldn’t talk about any of that because at last, he had a way to sneak in a question concerning Wyn. Or his situation, at least.

  “You couldn’t get banished for this, could you?” Edwyr asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

  Feyrith looked at him with confusion, but still, he seemed to take the question seriously. “Oh no, of course not. Banishment is only meant for…. Well, you know.”

  For once this didn’t annoy Edwyr in the least. “So it can never happen to you?”

  Feyrith narrowed his eyes as if he was trying to figure out why Edwyr was asking. “No. Have you heard otherwise?”

  It was possible that Feyrith was lying, Edwyr supposed, but it was highly unlikely. For one, elves didn’t lie and therefore weren’t skilled at it, and he was also getting the feeling that Feyrith would be extra inept at it. And Edwyr himself had never heard of an elf being banished for any reason other than the Curse.

  And so Edwyr simply shrugged, which seemed to convince Feyrith there was nothing other than innocent curiosity at play here. This had probably been his only possibility at finding out who Wyn might be before meeting him. Edwyr couldn’t very well ask if the elves who had been sent out into the world had ever gone missing without explaining why he wanted to know, so he had no choice but to walk into this mostly blind.

  But despite that unfortunate fact, he had a good feeling about this. He felt like he could trust Wyn, despite his irritating insistence on being as cryptic as possible, and if he wasn’t lying, Edwyr would find out about who he was and what he was doing soon enough. Whatever this was, he was ready for it. And with that realization, he finally felt at peace enough to go back.

  Excusing himself rather abruptly after that, for which he earned a slightly puzzled look from Feyrith, Edwyr made his way back towards the inn, taking in a few deep breaths of the fresh, night air before heading inside. Tomorrow they would reach the mountains, and possibly even the ruin. And Edwyr was more than prepared for whatever answers it would bring him.

  17

  Despite being eager to get moving again, Feyrith took the time to help a few people with minor ailments before they left—notably healing someone’s waning eyesight. He still wasn’t sure how this all made him feel, though, because while he liked helping, it always bothered him to see how many problems there were, and how little they were being dealt with. There were simply not enough elves to help everyone, which was true, but now that he thought about it more, most elves aimed to ascend ranks rather than use their magic to help humans.

  And much to his regret, Feyrith had been no different before coming here.

  He’d not even truly realized before then that quite a few elves never even left their island, and when they did, they tended to treat assisting humanity as nothing more than a secondary objective. After all, Feyrith wasn’t here to help—he’d come here to investigate a ruin. He wouldn’t have healed all of the people he already had if he hadn’t volunteered for this mission.

  There were more elves on the southern coast of the mainland, but that didn’t mean the people in the west didn’t deserve the same treatment. Feyrith would have to decide what he was going to do once this mission was done, it seemed. The Council would likely let him stay and help the humans, at least for a while, but it would mean putting off his studies as it wouldn’t be safe to try and master dangerous magic in an uncontrolled environment. Not to mention that he would not be allowed to bring all of the books he would need with him, as the risk of losing or damaging them would be too great.

  Would it be more likely to make a difference by being here with the humans, or by continuing where he’d left off, trying to become a member of the Council? Feyrith would have to seriously ponder this.

  And he would also need to ponder the strange conversation he’d had with Edwyr only a few hours earlier. It had been incredibly odd, and Feyrith still wasn’t sure what to make of it, but at least Edwyr didn’t seem as hostile towards him anymore. That had been a tremendous relief for Feyrith, as the ever-present tension whenever their eyes had met was now much more bearable.

  Still, Feyrith was confused, and he hated how often he had felt that way since he’d come here. Life had made sense on Aendor—Feyrith had never needed to question much and understood most things he needed to know—and now all that he thought about were questions. It was both novel and exhausting.

  As they left Mistglen, the sky was already full of dark clouds, with a very distant rumbling of thunder every so often following along, but no one argued with him about continuing their journey anyway. They would likely find somewhere to wait out a storm if they needed to, he thought to himself as they crossed the draw bridge back onto the cobbled path, slowly replaced by a dirt road.

  Though this time it felt a bit dif
ferent. They would be heading into the mountains now, and Feyrith had never read much about this region. For the most part, the continent of the mainland was flat, with most of it covered with the jungle. The thought of what might be hiding deep inside of it always managed to send a shiver down his spine, but the mountains made him feel a similar way.

  While nowhere near as dangerous, the elves hadn’t spent much time exploring them, and not even the humans seemed to know much or want to talk about them, even though they seemed to be aware that there were other humans living there. In fact, from what Feyrith remembered from what quick research into the topic he had made, there was supposed to be a relatively large city near the ocean coast, on the other side of the mountain range, presumably because the mountains offered protection against the jungle and the creatures within.

  But humans tended to be rather superstitious. They were welcoming enough to outsiders, but they also seemed to keep to themselves, and they didn’t busy themselves with much aside from growing food, or hunting for it, and protecting their settlements and communities.

  Feyrith reached into his satchel for his journal, about to write these thoughts down before he forgot them when his fingers brushed over the parchment of the letter addressed to Edwyr. Councilor Hellan had seemed so sure the elf would help when he read it, which had made Feyrith curious about its contents. He briefly wondered if Edwyr would mind if he read it, but Feyrith stopped himself there. Even though he was certain a Councilor contacting a Cursed elf like this was either unprecedented, or very rare, it wasn’t his place, and it wasn’t his business to know about it.

  And so Feyrith simply retrieved the journal and left the letter where it was. He let his quasir continue following the road and his companions as he turned his full attention to writing. Their environment slowly changed as they approached the mountain range, the ground becoming rockier, with a little less plant life that covered up everything. It was a strange sight.