Welcome To The Age of Magic

by C M Raymond et al.

  Amelia struggled to talk and look more into Arryn’s head, but it became painfully obvious that Arryn could feel it. The young woman’s brows furrowed as her eyes closed. She rubbed at her temples and forehead where Amelia knew the buzzing would be the worst for someone that was sensitive to the sensation.

  Satisfied that she hadn’t found anything other than what she’d been told, Amelia pulled back and continued. “I can't guarantee answers that’ll lead anywhere, but I'm sure we can find someone around here that knew your father, or might know what could've happened. What do you plan to do in the meantime? You can't possibly plan to spend every moment of everyday searching—or do you?”

  “Actually,” Arryn replied. “I want to join the Academy. It was my parents dream that I would attend there when I was old enough—well, once I got strong enough to recruit an army and take back the city, of course. But since that’s already done, I can just enjoy it the way they’d always wanted.”

  “Wonderful!” Amelia said. “I was the Dean of Students before the revolution. It was a position I took great pride in. We can definitely make that happen. Out of curiosity, do you remember any of your physical magic?”

  Arryn's eyes suddenly turned black, as she arced her hands over her chest and then pulled away, a small fireball in each one.

  They weren’t much bigger than a grown man's fist, but they were there, and they were strong for their size. Amelia could tell.

  The blackness faded from Arryn's eyes as she clenched her fists, extinguishing the fire in each one.

  “My mother was one of the most powerful magic users in the city, at least that's what my father told me. That's why they wanted so badly to be a part of the rebellion. My mother and father taught me magic up until I was nine years old. But I’ve never learned how to grow past what I'd learned from them without a teacher. So, the things that I did know got stronger, though they never got any bigger.”

  “So, what you’re saying,” Cathillian said, pointing a finger at Arryn, “is that you have super small balls, but they’re very mighty.”

  Without hesitation, Arryn smiled and looked over at her companion. “They’re still bigger than yours. At least I have some.”

  Cathillian gasped, placing his hand over his heart to feign offense. “Well, I never…”

  Amelia laughed at the two, enjoying the back and forth between them. Listening to them reminded her of Parker and Hannah—her old compatriots who had left after the revolution. “OK, Arryn. I want you to do a quick training exercise. Can you do that?”

  Arryn was hesitant at first, but after Cathillian gave a nod of encouragement, she acquiesced. “Sure. Why not?”

  Amelia stepped forward, taking Arryn's hands in her own. She turned Arryn's hands over so her palms faced up. “I know you’ve felt it, but I’ve been using mystical magic on you. Looking through your mind for signs of lying. I apologize, but I felt it was necessary.”

  There was a flash of confusion on the girl’s face, but then it disappeared. “So, that’s what that was. I should be pissed, but if I had that ability, I’d do the same before letting you in the Dark Forest. So, I understand.”

  Amelia smiled. “Great! Again, I’m sorry. It’s impressive you could feel it, though. That’s good. No one good or bad can ever get in your head without you knowing about it. OK, now that I’ve come clean, I’m going to use the same magic to guide you. Make sure you don’t make any dangerous mistakes. Now, close your eyes,” Amelia said.

  Arryn did as she was asked, closing her eyes and exhaling. Amelia focused on Arryn’s mind to feel for her emotions.

  “I want you to empty your mind. Your father. Your mother. Adrien. All those years in the city. None of it exists. You are all that exists. The air that you breathe. The heat in this room. Feel the warm air around your hands. Even feel the warmth in my skin as it touches you. Focus on that heat.”

  Amelia knew from personal experience with the students from the Boulevard that what she was about to do was risky. Using such volatile emotion to fuel power was dangerous, but the girl had heart.

  It was worth it to try, and she knew that she’d be able to control any downfall if anything bad happened. Amelia further cleared her own mind as she stared at the girl, hoping that she wouldn’t need to take any action, but preparing in case.

  “I want you to feel your physical magic and push it to your hands. When you feel it, shape it. And let it go. Conjure another fireball.”

  Arryn pulled her hands away, crossing them over her chest before she pushed them out to her sides, a fireball appearing in each one.

  Again, they were small, but they were more powerful than the ones from before, as evident by the core color, an almost brilliant blue. The core heat was intense, but very small.

  She'd never seen a spark so hot before. Most of the fireballs she’d ever seen were red and orange, though there were a few with the hint of blue at its core. Amelia took a deep breath, steadying herself.

  “Now, magic is passion. When you feel the most intense, be it fear, rage, or desire to thrive, your magic will grow stronger. So, with your clear mind, I want you to gradually think about the night your mother died.”

  “Uh,” Cathillian said. “This probably isn't the wisest idea. I've seen what happens when someone brings up her parents. It's very scary.”

  Amelia nodded. “Trust me, I've known someone just like that. That's why I'm choosing my words carefully.” She turned her attention back to Arryn. “Were you there when she died?”

  She watched as Arryn's brows furrowed, her nose flaring a bit.

  Taking another cautious breath, Amelia continued pushing. “You were so young. Focus on that fear that you felt. Knowing what was about to happen. If you held a fireball that moment, one that could have saved her, how strong would it have been?”

  At that moment, the blue sparks in Arryn’s fireballs exploded, both of them turning a brilliant blue, and their core a bright white.

  Amelia’s hands were still close as a precaution, but she quickly yanked her hands back, a pain-filled hiss escaping her. She had no idea how Arryn could possibly hold that much heat.

  “Holy shit,” Cathillian gasped, taking a step back as shock rolled across his face.

  “Arryn,” Amelia said. “Open your eyes.”

  Arryn opened her eyes slowly, and then opened them wider. They were blacker than black, a deep obsidian. Amelia hadn't realized that color went so dark until that moment. Amelia could see the disbelief on Arryn’s face.

  “How?” Arryn asked.

  “That's a lot of power you're using,” Amelia said. “You might want to extinguish those. You don't want to waste your energy.”

  She watched as Arryn's eyes faded back to their original color, the fireballs disappearing as she did.

  Arryn looked down at her hands a moment longer, seemingly just as amazed as Amelia. “How did I do that?”

  Amelia shook her head, smiling. She felt intense pride in the girl, and she had no idea why. She barely knew her. But for some reason, she felt almost responsible for her. Like she was a lost child of Arcadia, one that she could've helped, but hadn’t—yet. She sure as hell would now.

  “I just wanted to teach you how to conjure a larger fireball. I thought the fireballs would get bigger, but they didn't. At least not much. They sure as hell got stronger, though.”

  “I don't know what to say,” Arryn said, her eyes still wide.

  “Say that you’ll come to the Academy!’ Amelia excitedly said. “We need someone strong like you. In fact, if you have even a fraction of that strength in nature magic, I’d love to have you and your friend here teach. It would give you guys some extra money to live on and bring excitement. I admit, the pay isn't the best, but it's there. I think it would do our students some good to learn something as pure as nature magic. What do you say?”

  Cathillian laughed. “No offense, lady. I really appreciate the offer. But I'm not exactly what one would call ‘good’ in a structured environment. How I
got this far as a warrior, I'll never know. It was definitely a lot of ass kicking. Not me kicking ass, but them kicking mine. I was quite the little bastard. All these years later, and all this sexiness, and I'm still just as free-spirited.”

  Arryn shook her head and sighed heavily as she looked at Cathillian. “I don't even know how to respond to that.”

  She turned to Amelia. “Obviously, I'm not as good at nature magic as he is. However, I have no money. Druids have no need for it. So, I’d be happy to teach the fundamentals of nature magic. Besides, anything they need to learn, I mastered years ago. It's the fancy shit I still can't figure out, but that's why I have my narcissistic friend here.”

  “And I'll just do what I do best,” Cathillian said. “Wander around and explore. Besides, kinda curious to see what kind of girls they have in this place.”

  Arryn motioned to Cathillian as she kept her eyes on Amelia. “If you ordered your guards to kick the crap out of him, I totally wouldn't hold it against you. I promise I'll just look the other way. We can still be friends.”

  Amelia laughed hard at the girl’s humor. She already liked Arryn and Cathillian and was excited to get to know them better. Given everything she’d seen in her mind and in her personality, she would be great to have around the city.

  “Well, you'll probably be wanting to get settled in and check out the city. As I said, it's not much to look at right now. We have a lot to rebuild. But, I’m always up for ideas. If you ever need anything, you can come to me. And if you ever have any ideas, anything at all that might better the city, don't hesitate. I can use all the help I can get.”

  Arryn nodded. “Absolutely. I may not have been able to take part in the rebellion, but I can at least take part in the rebuild. Oh, and about that mental magic thing… You mentioned bad people being able to do it. Is there a way to keep them out?”

  Amelia nodded. “I'm happy to hear the excitement about the rebuild! As for the mental stuff, I only know a little. There’s a way to close your mind to others. It’ll look suspicious to anyone—like me—who has good intentions, but it’ll keep you safe from anyone bad.”

  “That’s awesome! I’ve heard of that magic, but didn’t really know anything about it. Maybe you can show me some time,” Arryn said, smiling.

  Amelia returned the smile with one of her own. “I can do that. Now, let me take you to your new home. I think you'll find it rather agreeable. During the process of putting our rebellion together, my friends and I spent quite a lot of time in the house. As far as I'm concerned, I can’t think of anyone better to put in there.”

  Arryn smiled. “A house used for chaos? Yeah, I think that sounds like home.”

  19

  Amos had fallen asleep on the cold, stone floor since Talia’s last visit. Between having been suspended for almost a whole day every day since she’d taken him as well as being tortured, he welcomed being chained to the base of the post and allowed sleep on the floor.

  After all he’d been through, it was almost kind of her.

  He had large burns across his back where she’d used her fire against him several times. Not quite badly enough to blister and potentially allow it to get infected and kill him, but certainly bad enough to make him scream in pain.

  He enjoyed the cold stones on his raw back. It was the only relief he had, even though it hurt as badly as it helped.

  The door opened, waking Amos with a jolt. It closed again, and his breaths increased as he listened for the footsteps.

  Click.

  Click.

  Click.

  Click.

  Every step was incredibly slow. The pattern was different, though the sound was the same. He strained his eyes to focus in the low light, and he could see her there.

  Staring at him.

  Watching him without saying a word.

  Her eyes were narrowed, her arms crossed over her chest as she mulled something over in her mind. It was all over her face. The demon-like woman had a lot to think about, and it was all about him.

  “Talia,” he said, his voice a whisper. “You’ve come back.”

  She nodded at first, still not saying a word as her eyes bore into his. “I did.”

  Her voice was different, the tone indifferent, distant even. She seemed lost in thought, but also like she couldn’t care less.

  “Are you here for another talk?” he asked, unable to stop the sound of hatred from leaking through, though he wished he had.

  “No.”

  No. If she wasn’t there to talk, then what was she there for? He didn’t like that idea. The whole time he’d been there, he’d not been shy about saying he’d rather die than help her. In those few days, he hadn’t managed to give her much of anything, but what little he had, she seemed happy enough with.

  It had only been after she seared his back that he’d screamed out that Jackson had a group of people—students and teachers alike—that hated the Boulevard families and wanted them gone.

  They may have been hateful people, but they were harmless enough. Rudeness was different than violence. He couldn’t imagine what she planned to do, but from the look on her face at that moment, her current plans were far more absolute and far more threatening to him.

  He didn’t want to die.

  Chills began at the follicles of his hair, jolting through his temples and then running down his spine to fan out over the rest of his body. In his situation, he’d gotten to know her mannerisms very well. Talia was not acting like herself.

  “If you didn’t come to talk, then what did you come for?” he asked, doing his best to sound at least a little confident. He sure as hell didn’t feel it.

  “I have a little trip that I have to go on. I’ll be gone for a few days.”

  There was a pregnant pause in the air as she still stood there, staring him down. He swallowed hard.

  “And?” he asked, trying to keep his breathing under control. “What does that mean for me?”

  “Well, if I don’t feed and water my pet, he’ll probably die on me. Wouldn’t you say?” Her tone was now blunt, cold. During her visits before, she’d been so animated, having delighted in watching him squirm with his fear of her, but now… Now, she was something else entirely.

  “I would,” he said, swallowing hard again. He began silently praying to the Matriarch that she would deliver him safely—somewhere… anywhere. Just away from Talia.

  “Exactly.” She sighed, placing her hands on her hips. “The question is how to do it. I suppose I should stop thinking about it and ask you…” She made her way over to him, kneeling by his side. She gently brushed her fingers across his face as her expression turned soft, her voice following suit. “How would you like for me to end your miserable existence here, Amos?”

  There was no way around it. He knew there was no escaping. Both his arms and legs were bound, and he was far too weak to fight. He’d wasted too much energy fighting while she was gone, and she had too much skill in subduing someone with rope and chains.

  “Please, just let me go. I’ll leave Arcadia. I’ll take my family and go,” he pleaded.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I need you. I need you to die. You see, I have to be there for everyone. I have a part to play, and I can’t do that without tragedy.”

  “You’re killing me so you can be the hero when someone finds my body in some ditch? Your father was fucking crazy, lady—but I ain’t never met anyone like you.”

  She smiled, running a gentle finger down his cheek again. “That’s sweet of you to say. And yes, that’s the idea. Also, it sets me up for later. See, if everyone’s focusing on the fear of a maniac on the loose, they’ll turn to me for help. I’ll be the last person in the world they’d think of.”

  She lifted the skirt of her dress, pulling a knife from a small sheathe strapped to her thigh.

  “My father tried to run the world with blunt force. Not with intelligence. That’s why he failed. I won’t.”

  “There’ll always be someone there. Fo
r every bully, there’s someone bigger and badder than they are waiting to take ‘em down. You’ll meet a terrible end. Mark my words. When you do bad things, they come back to haunt you.”

  Her mouth turned up at the corner, but it was full of sarcasm. “Is that why you’re here? Mr. Assistant Hero of the Boulevard? You believe that you did something so good and righteous, yet here you are. With me. About to die. And you want to preach to me about things coming back around? If you’re so good and I’m so terrible, where’s your good fortune? Hmm?”

  Amos sat in silence, staring at the exaggerated curiousness in her expression. He had no answer. At that moment, he’d never felt quite so forsaken by the light—whatever that might have been. Still, he refused to allow himself to be lowered to her level.

  “My good fortune is in my death,” he said finally.

  Her brows furrowed as she snickered. “What—the fuck—is that supposed to mean?”

  It was his turn to smile then. “You caught me at a disadvantage and captured me. You spent days weakening me to the point that I have no hope of fighting you. I’m not strong enough to take you down—not while alive.”

  She laughed, placing a hand on his chest. “You sure as shit won’t be doing anything while dead, kid. Hate to break it to ya.”

  “My death won’t be enough for you. You’re gonna need a constant distraction to do what you wanna do. You will kill again. Eventually, someone will prove themselves to be a real problem for you. Someone stronger than you. And it’ll all start with me. They’ll connect the pieces, and when they do, all fingers will point to you. Believe me—when that moment comes, it’ll be this very conversation that you remember when you’re facing down your own fate.”