by Lisa Daniels
“Look at you, toadying up to a whore,” Edith spat, fingers digging into the table like claws, food forgotten. “But I suppose she’s your type, isn’t she? Maybe you should both go off and fuck each other.”
“She doesn’t like me,” Isera explained airily to Seon, “because I don’t take her shit and I’m a little… honest about some things. You could say she’s a prude. Comes from a well-bred family and all that. Or, as well bred as you can be for a human.”
Seon smiled for the first time, a genuine one that spread across her lips and heart. “Oh, she doesn’t like you? That’s a shame.” She deliberately leaned forward, brushed Isera’s hair and nipped at her ear, before winking to maximize the performance. “If you do want to learn any techniques, I’m sure a whore like me will be up for it.”
“Oh, really?” Isera began grinning, too. “That’s good, because I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to bed a woman. Is it soft? Boring, since you don’t have dangly bits?”
“Easier. We don’t need the dangly bits to come. Just a good tongue and a few fingers,” Seon said, and Edith rolled her eyes, disgusted. Some people stared at them in revulsion, others in amusement, and others still with curiosity.
“Foul creatures! Come, Sigmund. We’re going.” Edith began pulling the drake with her. Seon and Isera burst into laughter.
“Are you really going to do that stuff with each other?” The man who spoke appeared slightly too interested. He had that nervous jitter to his chin which denoted a lack of confidence. Seon saw those types in the brothel all the time. They came sneaking in, eyes darting around, unsure if they could be here or do what they came to do. Her mother always sent those first-timers to the women who knew what to do with their bodies, and could command to make others do what they wanted. It gave them an experience they’d never forget, and got them hooked on coming back again.
“Oh, yeah,” Seon said, giving him a lecherous wink. “Of course we are. We’re gonna do all the things.”
“Ehem.” Artiz slunk into the hall, hands behind his back. “If you have time to waste on frivolities like this, then you’ll have time to waste with me in training in five minutes.” He fixed his gaze upon Seon, who gave a nervous smile, mood instantly dropping. The other women in the place discreetly dedicated some of their attention to him. Apparently, Artiz had that ability to turn heads and to make a room fall silent with little effort. A gift, perhaps.
“Yes, sir.”
Artiz nodded and left. Isera clamped her hands over her mouth. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I might have gotten you into trouble.”
“Nah, you did nothing wrong. Tell me more about yourself.”
Isera smiled. “I’ll tell you a little. But there’s some things I’d like to keep for myself, if you don’t mind.” Seon nodded, expecting Isera to maintain that lock upon her mind. “The place I come from is a mining village, overlooked by a big estate. Most humans mined precious ores in horrible conditions. I’m talking of lung-destroying conditions. There’s a noxious gas in the mines that corrodes a person’s lungs over time.”
“Oh…” Seon stared in horror. “That’s awful! You worked there?”
Isera shook her head. “No, actually. I was born in the estate, so I grew up as a house servant. Slightly cosier life, but still… unpleasant. Just not as unpleasant. I had a friend in the mines, actually. I used to go and visit her. Wonderful singing voice. Sometimes I wonder how she’s doing. If she’s still around, you know. Or…” Isera’s voice trailed off. She gave a helpless shrug, betraying tight anxiety within.
“You didn’t want to leave her behind?”
“No. But I also knew I’d be found out soon. The wyrm of the estate entertains a lot of guests every lastday, running fights and musicians and so on. People connected to this school went there as well, and a Sniffer took me aside to say they’d get me out the next lastday. I agreed… though I do wish I could have taken my friend.”
Seon nodded. She suspected Isera wouldn’t give the exact details of her life, all the shit she’d gone through. The idea of the mines loitered in her mind as a dark, evil place, with people slamming pickaxes into rock, their bones jarring with each hit. Coughing from whatever disease invaded their lungs.
“These mines… how do they replace their slaves when they lose them?”
Isera tapped her fingers on the edges of her tray. “It takes a long time, I believe, for the gas to completely destroy their lungs.”
Seon thought about the place she came from, the trials she went through. She didn’t have to worry about her lungs giving up on her. She did have to take care with the kinds of customers she received, back when she attempted to scrounge enough money to leave that life forever and start anew, with something more respectable.
People never wanted her to forget what she used to be, though. Despite the fact that everyone’s bodies were breaking down, one way or another, or doing things they hated. Somehow, they considered someone like Seon the lowest of the low. Some didn’t even consider it a hard-working job. Just lying there and allowing people to do whatever they wanted.
They didn’t know that it twisted Seon’s heart to be in such a situation. To be treated like filth, to have all dignity stripped from her, to risk her life each time for that one vile individual who had given up everything.
“Well, I’d love to talk more, but I think someone’s late for their daily abuse by Artiz,” Isera said, grinning.
“Oh, don’t remind me…” Seon slumped her head into her arms on the table. “I swear, he’s not helping me at all. Just hurting me.”
“Oh, don’t worry, he’s helping. It doesn’t seem like it now. And he’s a bastard for sure, but it really does help to train your mind and body. The magic becomes more accessible. Well, you go. I’ll finish eating your tray…”
Seon laughed, and they made a quick promise to meet up again. If Seon survived Artiz’s training, of course.
With a heavy heart, Seon headed to her next lesson, hoping her body wouldn’t break down. Hoping as well he’d never drag her out in her nightgown again.
Chapter Four
Day after day, Seon endured the same treatment. Artiz only left her alone from outdoor training if it happened to be howling blizzards outside, because he didn’t actually want her to die. Could have fooled me. Each session felt progressively worse than the last. Each one left her wishing to just give up the training entirely and make a run for it. Artiz tried to treat her kindly between sessions, but it didn’t convince her. It felt like he wore a hollow mask, concealing the glee at her torment within.
Even if he bought her drinks and nice food, and offered to take her on flights around the mountains.
“You’re valuable to us,” he said, when she asked him in a fit of frustration why he treated her so harshly with the training. “That’s why we absolutely have to do this. And why you can’t share the information of your suspected powers, either. There are people who would do everything in their power to sell you off or kill you. Maybe even people in this place if they found out.”
Again, this made Seon’s caution rise. She suspected for herself that not everyone in this school could be trustworthy. Everyone had a selling price.
“Small, petty magic doesn’t frighten the wyrms as much as you think, though they’d wipe out the school if they could. But you, Seon – you’d terrify them.”
Seon didn’t feel particularly terrifying at the moment. She did, however, agree with the old adage, “Trust no one,” since she operated her entire life on that. She certainly didn’t insert her trust in Isera, who for all her brusque charms, still might be concealing more than she let on. What better way to find out about Seon’s magic than to pretend to be her friend?
Come to think of it, Seon didn’t trust Artiz either, who said one thing, but acted contrary to what he stated. He relentlessly pushed her to the limits. More than once, her shaking body had to be carried in by him, because for all his training, sometimes he took her too far. He claimed he didn’t, b
ut Seon doubted. She thought sometimes she even saw guilt in his eyes.
It was a shame he treated her so drastically, with the bad balancing with small moments of good. What was he, really? A slave driver? A concerned trainer? Did he actually like her or find her magic despicable?
She didn’t know. But she did notice some of his touches upon her when he lifted her up to be less rough than before. And she did find steaming mugs of hot chocolate waiting in her room when she retired to it at night. Sometimes it might be lukewarm, but she could heat it up again without much issue.
His face began to haunt her dreams at night. Sometimes he’d be standing there, hands folded behind his back, ordering her to do something impossible, like walk on thin air. She’d be protesting, and he’d tell her that if she didn’t, he’d break her bones and make her suffer, because he’d rather she be dead than useless. No warmth lingered in those eyes when he stated such things.
Sometimes he whipped her in those dreams, like a master did a slave. Other times he tore her apart in his drake form, claws ripping into soft flesh. And other times still, Artiz would find another, insidious way to get her back, softer and less brutal than the other nightmares.
Those dreams made her wake up flushed, heated, and ashamed. Dreams where, with a smirk upon his pale lips, a steel in his eyes, he’d pluck off her robes, leaving her naked in the snow. Dreams that left her unsure if she was aroused or scared.
There’s another way to train your body, too. It was something her mother used to say, mixing up with Artiz’s words. Sex is the best exercise. In that vision, his fingers stroked her skin, which erupted in goosebumps. Maybe from the cold. Maybe from him. Alarm flooded, along with a sense of longing. The two conflicting emotions reeled her into chaos.
She didn’t want such thoughts or such things to happen. Surely she must wake up now, and leave the trappings of this nightmare. Yet her body betrayed her as he pushed her down, held her by the back of her hair, and bit into her neck.
Remember. It’s all training. We have to get your mind and body ready…
Seon didn’t share that dream with anyone. She also devoutly avoided the ones that people said could read minds. She didn’t know the extent of their ability, but she assumed they needed to be close somehow.
She struggled to avoid Edith, though, who had lit a special brazier in her heart for hating Seon. Whore was the nicest insult she came up with. Her animosity confused Seon at times, because she didn’t understand how a fellow magician could be so hateful. Weren’t they all in the same boat now? They should all be united in their secret, training in long forgotten magic, preparing themselves against the wyrms that wanted them dead.
“She wants to be the best,” Isera said. “She can’t stand anyone possibly being better than her. I think if it was up to her, she’d be the only one to use magic in this place.”
Or maybe she’s a spy. Of course, this way, anyone Seon didn’t like might be a spy. Not exactly fair thinking on her part.
Artiz’s training did have a notable effect on Seon’s body about a month in. A month of eating simple meals, of being tripped in the corridor, of being stared at, of listening to Isera’s witty observations, and falling asleep to boring teachers. People liked to mock Seon’s writing as well, since she wrote slowly and wobbly, like a child. She still needed assistance with reading, and most of the time wanted to toss the book out the window.
She had suffered multiple incidents of planting her face in snow, of limbs trembling as they forced another push-up. She endured her lungs expanding and taking in cold air when running around the school, bones jarring, trying not to slip. With the heavy fur robes, it made the going arduous, and her legs sank into the snow, leaden from exercise. Her muscles screamed a lot of the time, making it hard to move or even to chew. At least she found longer intervals between that pain now, as her body adjusted, becoming fitter than she thought possible. Artiz always encouraged, acting tough and harsh at first, but genuinely complimenting when she completed something and didn’t mess anything up.
Artiz watched her this time, sitting on a tree stump, a little distant as she reached fifty push-ups. “Good work,” he said. “Now, again with the stomach crunches. Fifty of those.”
She hooked her feet under a root, ready to put her stomach through more pulsing pain. Always wearing the robes made her have to deal with more weight, and she had learned to adjust to it as best as able. She faced opposite him. Her cheeks flushed slightly, remembering the dream from this morning. It had woken her up wet, wet enough to start doing something about it. Honestly, it had been a while since she allowed herself to get that turned on.
At least Artiz couldn’t read minds.
I need to stop thinking about this. He was her instructor. Nothing more. Didn’t help matters that Artiz looked good, with that crimped blond hair accompanying his sideburns and slowly forming beard. He possessed haunting gray eyes, a thin warrior’s face, and a nose both crooked and charming. He might have the default scowl, but in the brothel Seon once lived in, she knew Artiz would get insane discounts from the ladies for his looks. There was also that certain way he moved, as if he knew how to use his body, and lived in full control of it. That kind of self-awareness drew attention.
Men like that make good partners. No partners for her, of course. Not in this place. Still, the heat remained. The lingering memories of those dreams… and of his touch upon her body… it fascinated her. The longer she went without sex, the more she wanted it. No strings attached sex was her thing. The trouble with Artiz was that she needed to face him every day, and get trained by him until her body crumpled. So if she did plunge into sex with him, if he even wanted that at any point, she wouldn’t be able to separate him. She’d have to develop it further, like a relationship.
I can’t risk that. I get enough shit from the school without hooking up with a teacher in the process.
Her body had gained in strength and endurance, and her mind felt crisper than before.
As for her magic, she still only heard the whispers of inanimate objects, apart from also detecting the walls of Isera’s soul. However, she did hear such whispers more often, which Seon assumed was an improvement of sorts.
Fifty crunches later, a bored Artiz said, “Well done. I’ll now make you run around the school. Twenty times. You’re improving, so we’ll raise the bar.” He twitched her a smile, and she scowled.
“Twenty?” Seon scowled. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly. You managed all this and sixteen times the other day. I’m sure you’ll do great.” He flashed a smile, though when it vanished, it left a distinctive blank expression upon his face.
Seon waved at him to get his attention. “Does this bore you or something?”
“A little,” he admitted clasping his hands together. “But it’s not over you personally. There’s no help for it. You’re not going to suddenly become amazing at your magic overnight. It’s just I’d rather have other things to do. Even if training you is the most important thing I can do right now, and you’re a good person.”
“I bet,” Seon said, deciding to not get offended by his attitude. She understood his sentiment in a way. Forced to babysit, whilst she still showed no extra promise of developing her magic further. Still rubbed her the wrong way, though, because she hated the thought of being a burden to someone else. Even though this idiot had essentially made her his burden. She wouldn’t be here if not for him. Bold words leaped onto her lips, hot from the need to know. “Don’t you have a lover in these parts? Someone to warm your bed at night?” Such words didn’t embarrass her. But the thought of Artiz linking that statement to her, signalling any intent from her mind – that was the thing that made her flush.
Artiz shook his head, wry amusement curling. “You think I have eligible options in the mountain villages?”
Seon found that an odd announcement. “What about the school? There’s a lot of lonely women here. I’m not that blind that I can’t see it.”
“And t
hey’re all students. Who may be here for years. And too important to waste in a relationship. How awkward do you think it will be if I sleep with someone and then have to face them the next day?”
Seon pursed her lips. Exactly the way she thought. Although, now that she dwelled on it further, was that really such a big deal? She struggled right now to see why she felt that was important. “That’s a shame. I can’t imagine that would be easy for you. Being a male and all.” Curses. That revealed a chunk of her past to him, didn’t it?
Now one of Artiz’s eyebrows cocked. “I assume you’re referring to male virility.”
Seon nodded, not trusting herself to speak further. She expected Artiz to dismiss the statement and tell her she was being stupid. Instead, he said with a smirk, “You’re not wrong. It can get difficult at times. Especially when I see interesting types wandering about the school. But I resist, because I’m strong enough to do so, and I have more important things to do than to pursue a relationship.” He leaned closer to her as he said the words, eyes taking on an icy glint.
“It doesn’t always have to be a relationship,” Seon said. “It can be a mutual way for people to satisfy themselves. I know it can become… stressful and irritating for both genders when they don’t get some. Need to vent all that energy somewhere, you know?”
Artiz paused at this, and his nose shivered slightly, as if sniffing something. “Someone here smells aroused. It practically hisses out of your pores.”
“Excuse me?” She had the audacity to smile confidently and blush at the same time. She’d forgotten about that sniffing ability. If he could smell magic, it stood to reason he could smell minute changes in her body chemistry.
“I can smell your arousal from here.”
Should I bluff it? Panic struck for a second, before she squashed it down and plastered on a determined smile. “Women have needs as much as men.”
He paused. Those gray eyes seemed cold for some reason. “I suppose it’s to be expected, given your background.”