by Alix Sharpe
“You won’t be getting a grace period here,” Captain Angeline said. “No time out for training. As soon as you stepped through that doorway, you became Elf bait. You’re already in the midst of this fight. The only way you’ll survive is to learn to use your powers quickly. Even then you might die.”
“She’s a terrible motivational speaker,” the grey-eyed girl said under her breath. She looked up at him as if seeking reassurance, permission to laugh a little.
Hale grinned back at her. She didn’t seem half as terrified of Angeline as she did minutes ago. Maybe she’d picked out the nuances of the speech and realized this wasn’t what she thought it was. Terrifying and dangerous, yes, but not because of their leader. If so, that meant she was uncommonly observant, adaptive. Maybe she did stand a chance out here.
Hale stole another look at her as she turned back to watch the Captain, much more relaxed now.
“Each of you new recruits will be assigned to a seasoned soldier,” Angeline continued. “They’ll help train you, hands on, in the field. Some of you will luck out and go months before you see an Elf. And oh, you do not want to see an Elf. These aren’t Santa’s pets or Tolkien’s beautiful, angelic creatures. These are Dark Elves, demons reeking of shit and cloaked in nightmare. They’ll slit your throat as soon as look at you.
“Some of you might not be here tomorrow. Just because you’ll have someone with experience at your side, doesn’t mean their job is to protect you. You’ve been warned. Veterans to the front.”
The girl turned to him expectantly, she could tell he was older. Maybe she was even hoping they’d get partnered together.
Hale grinned and slowly started to unbutton his jacket. His bright blue amulet swung out, shining proudly against his black shirt underneath.
“You’re a Mage?” the girl whispered, grey eyes wide as she stared in awe.
“Yeah…” he said, pausing in surprise at her reaction. Dammit. The way she was looking at his pendant, she couldn’t be a Mage herself. That meant she was a Salamander after all. She’d get assigned to another fire-wielder, not him. She had to be the smallest Salamander he’d ever seen. Maybe she had a tiny flogger and blindfold she liked to…
He shook away the thought and rose to his feet, “I am the Mage. The best. I’m the infamous Hale Draven, I’ll get you an autograph later.”
The girl smirked at his joke. There were no ‘infamous’ wizards, it’s not like they had time to write newsletters or make TV appearances (not like technology worked on this side of The Veil anyway).
“Oh, Mr. Draven,” she said, pretending to fan herself, “I’m Keira Clearwater, I’m your number one fan. I’d love your autograph.”
“Done,” he grinned, stepping across her to get to the aisle. That smile. “Try to survive out there, okay? Keep your eyes sharp, and next time watch where you’re going.”
“Why don’t you, Haler the Impaler?” she said, playfully shoving him in the arm as he turned away. He laughed a little, clutching at his arm, pretending to be wounded, as he shot her one last look over his shoulder. It had been a while since he laughed. Strange that a Salamander was the one cracking jokes with him. They were usually so serious. He grinned the whole way up to the front.
“You done showing off now?” Captain Angeline mumbled to him as he brushed past and stood behind her at the front.
Hale smirked at The Captain as she cast a quick glance down at his exposed amulet, indicating she knew full well he’d been displaying it for attention. Battle Mages were a rarity, most lived in the Castle or were permanently stationed at an outpost. And with that look that Keira girl had given him, well, he felt even more like a rockstar now.
Unfortunately, his moment of exhilaration proved short lived as the camp’s reigning dirt bag, Soren Eriksson, swaggered up and fell in line next to him. The idiot’s presence soured the surrounding area almost immediately. Hale shot him a look of sheer disgust.
“That pretty blue amulet won’t mean shit when the ladies see who the real king is around here,” he said, puffing out his broad chest.
Hale glanced down at Soren’s blood-red amulet and shrugged. Salamanders and their egos. “This isn’t the middle ages, Sir Soren, there are no kings.”
“Shut up,” Angeline hissed over her shoulder. She turned back to the remaining 20 or so new recruits, scattered on the benches. “When I call your name, please come to the front,” she said. Then under her breath, just to Hale, “I know they probably could have figured that out, but...”
Hale let out a short laugh and bit back a smile. Angeline was the only other veteran Mage in the fleet, they had a long running inside joke about the intelligence of your average Salamander. Yes, most of them were smarter than the general population back on the other side of The Veil, but there were just enough of them that still fit the brawn over brains trope that their joke held true.
Soren Eriksson was one of those individuals that survived based on sheer strength alone. A strong warrior on his own, but a terrible strategist and even worse trainer. His previous two recruits had both died within a month. That was common for a trainer, but Hale knew Soren was one of the few who actually could have protected them. If he had wanted to.
Soren knocked his shoulder roughly against Hale’s. “I am king, king between the sheets! The fresh-meat will find that out soon enough.” He narrowed his icy blue eyes, apparently pleased with his delayed, unimpressive come-back.
For a second Hale almost laughed at him, but a dark thought snared his reaction in his throat. What if that Keira girl got assigned to Soren? He might keep her alive long enough to get her naked, but after the novelty wore off…
“Keira Clearwater,” Angeline shouted.
The tiny, grey-eyed girl rose to her feet and began her way up to the front.
The dark feeling sank lower in Hale’s gut at he watched her approach. No, Angeline wouldn’t do that, she would get another trainer. Not Soren. Anyone but Soren.
“Oh, fuuuck,” Soren said, “look at that tight little body. I could rip her in half. Dammit Draven, for once I’m pissed I’m not a Mage, no way I’ll get to train her.”
Hale curled his fists at his side, struggling against the urge to flatten Soren. If he even dared… “She’s not a Mage, she’s a Salamander, but if you so much as--”
“Draven,” Angeline hissed over her shoulder, “She’s not a Salamander.”
A huge breath of relief rattled out of Hale’s lungs as he watched Keira come to a stop before The Captain. Good. He could protect her, Soren wouldn’t touch her. It’d be fine.
Then Angeline turned back to the girl and with three words, shattered Hale’s brief respite: “She’s a Diviner.”
CHAPTER 3 – KEIRA
“A Diviner?” Hale said, a sudden look of revulsion washing over him.
Keira felt a sting at the back of her throat. She thought maybe she’d found someone who wouldn’t judge her. Guess she was wrong.
“And you’ll be training her, Draven,” Angeline said.
“No. No, I can’t be her trainer,” Hale said, shaking his head. “Aren’t there any Mages this year?”
Keira gritted her teeth. That look in his eyes. Why did this hurt so bad? She’d talked to him for all of five minutes, his opinion shouldn’t matter.
“Yes, there are two Mages,” Angeline said, “I’m taking both of them. I need you to focus on Clearwater. You have the best training record, better than me, even.”
“Yeah, great record,” Hale said, shaking his head. “My first is dead and my second was demoted to a Castle Mage when he couldn’t handle the field.”
“I know. That means you’re used to the Castle type,” Angeline said.
“No. I’m not training a Diviner,” he protested, folding his muscular arms. Wow, immature much? And what did he think he was doing, arguing with The Captain? She had this guy all wrong.
“I’ll take her,” chuckled the hulking, white-haired Salamander next to him.
For a split second, something shifted beh
ind Hale’s eyes as he shot a glance at the Salamander, but it faded as soon as he turned back to The Captain. Why had he gone from friendly to cruel so quickly?
“Draven couldn’t handle a Diviner,” the Salamander said. “Give her to me.”
Keira flicked her gaze to the Salamander. She couldn’t deny he possessed a raw animal appeal with his generous, hard muscles and classic chiseled jaw, but there was something cold in his frosty blue eyes that made the tiny hairs on her neck raise in caution. The way he was looking at her, she couldn’t tell if he wanted to fuck her, or eat her. It was just like the look her Ex used to give her, after the nightmares started.
“No, Soren,” Angeline said, “my decision is final. Hale will train the girl. You get a Salamander.” She turned back to the benches and called the next name. “Jessa Osiris.”
Keira’s hostile blonde roommate popped out of her seat and swaggered her way up to Soren’s side, a mischievous glint in her eye. Soren’s glacial eyes drifted up and down her lithe, toned body and gave an appreciative nod.
“She’ll do,” Soren said, slinking an arm over Jessa’s shoulder.
Gross. They deserved each other. He’d probably knock her up and she’d shoot out Elf-treats in the form of pretty, blonde, pyromaniac babies. Well, if there hadn’t been anti-conception spells enchanting their amulets, that is. They weren’t supposed to be able to get pregnant on this side of The Veil, but judging by the obvious bulge growing in Soren’s pants, he’d waste no time trying.
Speaking of wasting time… Hale Draven had apparently already decided he’d be doing no such thing with Keira Clearwater. As soon as Angeline dismissed them, he practically ran from her. He turned away, hopped off the platform, and disappeared between the rows of tents without so much as looking back at her.
Fine. She didn’t need to waste time with him either. What could a Mage really teach her anyway? Master Pallas had told her she had a gift, a natural talent. She could hone it on her own. She just needed a place to think. Somewhere away from all the noise. And the judgmental stares.
Everyone had scattered off in their assigned pairs. A few trainers even had two new recruits. That meant the replacement rate was astronomical. If the number of veteran soldiers practically matched the number of newbies, that meant every year more than half of the fleet didn't survive.
The Elves were brutal adversaries, known for their cunning and knack for obscuring their ever-changing strategies. That was why, Master Pallas had told her, it was critical to get as many Diviners into the field as possible, ones that stood a chance of surviving anyway. The soldiers on the ground needed more intel.
Diviners normally resided in the Castle & outpost Towers where their abilities were boosted with enchantments, helping them spy on the Elven hordes. That was the safest place for Diviners, typically weaker in body, but strong in mind. But often times the Diviners in The Tower would See something urgent, but be unable to communicate it to the field in time. Technology didn’t work on this side of The Veil, it’s not like they could make a phone call.
You’d think more resources would be put into finding a way to remedy the situation, but the Earthen governments didn’t pay much attention to things in this Realm. They put in just enough funding and bodies to keep the Elves from crossing through to Earth. But, with no political or economic gains to be had by clearing the land of the Elves, for the most part it was simply a problem out of sight, out of mind.
Now Keira would have to be out of sight too, at least until she grew strong enough to be part of the solution. If she spent all her energy on trying to sway everyone, she’d never get any training done.
She took one last look at her peers then turned away from the encampment and set into the woods. They may not welcome her now, but just wait until she became their most valuable player. She walked until she could no longer hear the raucous calls of the infant Salamanders throwing their smoldering balls of embers. Good. She needed silence to practice. She settled down by a small stream. Water helped conduct the Sight.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, but the fresh smell of the trees turned out to be an unexpected obstacle. One thing they never told you back home was how astonishingly beautiful things were on this side of the Veil. If there were more money in nature tourism, she was sure some corporation would have already eradicated the Elves simply to exploit the scenery of the Realm.
She needed to focus. If the scent of leaves could distract her, how would she deal with the undoubtedly putrid odors of a battlefield? Master Pallas had warned her, it’d be different outside, she’d have to learn to tap into her Sight even with all the sensory input around her. In The Tower, they could artificially block everything out. Not here.
Keira groaned and leaned against a rock, wishing desperately that her mentor could have joined her out there. Pallas served in the field for years in her younger days, she knew exactly what it would take. But she was too valuable, and too fragile, to send outside now. So instead Keira was stuck with a second-rate Mage, one who refused to look at her, let alone teach her.
Whatever. She didn’t need that beautiful, handsome jerk.
She shook off her jitters and tried again, opening her Sight for any auras or wisps that happened to float by. As soon as she closed her eyes, a red-hot jolt of danger flashed at the edges of her consciousness. She snapped out of her trance, heart thrumming, and frantically scanned the clearing. Nothing. Okay. Just paranoid.
Snap.
A massive grey monster shot out from the shadows and hurled towards her, knives raised. An Elf. Fuck.
A black ball of realization anchored Keira to the spot. She was going to die and there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t even close her eyes and tap into her Sight to look for a way out. All she could do was watch as the nightmare staggered towards her.
The Elf lunged into the air, the stream sparkling tranquilly below it. A gleam of silver flashed from above. As the reaper’s sickle descended, time seemed to slow leaving Keira Clearwater to the merciless onslaught of her very last thoughts: They’d all been right. She was a lost cause. She wasn’t good enough. She was powerless.
Finally, Keira closed her eyes and was relieved by a serene vision, a calming wave of blue, washing towards her. Maybe death wouldn’t be so bad after all. Peaceful even.
FUCK. Nevermind. Something hard cracked against her skull and it felt like her whole body went flying. Was that it? Was that her soul being knocked out of her? Did death feel like you’d been sucker punched with a firework? Or was she alive somehow?
A snarling, bestial shriek ripped Keira from her existential musings. She blinked her eyes open through the searing pain and realized she was face down in the dirt. Oh. Alive, she quickly decided, confused and stupid, but alive. Or at least she better act that way until she learned otherwise, lest her status suddenly change. Better regroup, immediately.
She jumped up and threw herself behind the nearest rock. She needed to See. Squeezing her eyes shut, she dove into the ether, desperately hoping she could track the Elf without having to expose herself to whatever was happening. Nothing but red swam behind her closed lids.
Dammit. Yes, danger, obviously. She opened her eyes. She’d have to do this the old-fashioned way. Fingers shaking, she turned and peeked over the rock. Oh shit.
Hale Draven. And he had the monstrous Elf pinned to a tree, a swirl of azure magic sparking around its flailing form.
Keira watched in awe as the Mage grappled with the monster, blue amulet radiant, flooding him with power.
Hale held his hands in the air, strong fingers rigid. The hard muscles of his forearms twitched, rotating the light around the creature’s neck. The demon howled and thrashed, finally dropping its weapon as Hale continued to twist.
Then Captain Angeline burst out of the woods behind him just as Hale let the creature fall. Hale collapsed to his knees, chest heaving.
“You,” Angeline shouted, pointing directly at the rock where Keira hid, “quick. Come here, now.
”
Despite the terrified little part of her brain advising against it, Keira scrambled out from behind the rock and obeyed her Captain’s orders. Seeing the Elf up close she felt like she might vomit.
Its tumid, sickly, greenish grey skin stretched thin over sharp cheekbones and pointed ears, but sagged everywhere else. The foul beast looked as though it had been submerged in water for days then washed up in a bog somewhere, bloated with mud. Three rows of jagged, brown fangs lined the upper and lower lips. The jaundice-yellow eyes quivered, rolling slowly towards the back of its head.
“Touch it,” Angeline commanded.
“What?” Keira said, fighting the bile rising in her throat.
“Do it,” Angeline said, “the mind is vulnerable on the edge of consciousness. You should be able to access its thoughts. We need whatever information it has.”
Keira cringed and hesitantly reached for the monster’s forehead. The skin felt clammy and oily under her palm. Disgust rolled in her gut.
“Concentrate,” Angeline growled.
Keira closed her eyes and exhaled. Go blank. Welcome the light.
Another flash of red crawled at the edges of her thoughts, muted this time, distant. Then dots of light began to pierce the red, followed by shimmering images. As they began to solidify, Keira couldn’t believe just how crisp the visions appeared as they rendered in her mind’s eye. A lake. Dawn. Golden leaves scattered on the ground. Mountains on the right. 50 spears. She didn’t even have to count them, the number just came. Then blood. All she saw was blood.
Keira snapped back into her own skull with such force it knocked her backwards. She glanced up at Angeline and wiped her hand on her pants.
“What did you See?” Angeline demanded.
Keira recapped her vision in as much detail as possible.
Angeline’s face contorted, brow furrowed as she finished. “That…” she said, sounding surprised, “good work, Clearwater. I know that location.” Then the Captain’s gaze shifted dark. “I’ve never heard of a horde so large. This could be dangerous. I’ll contact the nearest outpost and have them send backup to arrive before the seasons change.”
