A Slave to Magic

by Lana Axe

  “Good job,” Nera said, beaming with pride. “I couldn’t have done that.”

  “You could if you tried harder,” he replied, taking his blanket from his bag. Wrapping it around his shoulders, he moved closer to the fire’s warmth.

  Nera placed her blanket on her lap and reached for her lute case. Examining the instrument, she said, “At least this wasn’t damaged when that jerk knocked me down.” Pulling the lute from its case, she strummed softly to the night until her fingers were too fatigued to continue.

  Lulled by a symphony of nocturnal creatures, the two eventually drifted off to sleep. By the time dawn broke, they awoke refreshed in their forest cradles. Nera leaned up on an arm and took in her surroundings. The road was not in sight, and she wasn’t sure which direction they had come.

  Rising to her feet, she asked, “Which way is it to the road?”

  Kwil stood and observed the ground. “I don’t see our footprints,” he said. A blanket of fallen leaves masked any sign of their approach. Only an experienced tracker could have found them, and neither of the two had any such skill.

  “I’ll just have to climb one of these trees and have a look,” Nera decided, looking up at the treetops. Finding one with suitably placed branches, she pulled herself upward.

  “Are you sure this is wise?” Kwil asked, his voice shaking slightly. “You could fall.”

  “Nonsense,” she replied. “I’ve been climbing trees since I was a kit.”

  Kwil wanted to remind her she was no longer a kit. She was a grown, noble lady, and climbing trees was dangerous. But there was no stopping Nera once her mind was made up. All he could do was watch as she moved higher through the branches. Holding his breath, he awaited the sound of her voice.

  Placing each hand with care, Nera made sure to keep three points of contact at all times. The bark was damp from the previous day’s rain, and she regretted not removing her shoes before beginning her climb. Her footpads would have provided more grip against the slick surface. Carefully digging her claws into the bark, she moved methodically toward the top.

  Scanning the treetops, she easily spotted the road. Calling down to Kwil, she said, “I see it! It’s southwest of here, maybe three miles away.”

  Swiveling his head toward the rising sun, Kwil determined which direction they needed to walk. “All right,” he called back to her. “You can come down now.”

  Beginning her descent, Nera neglected to properly secure her feet before moving her arm. Her shoes slipped against the wet bark, her hand desperately reaching for the branch above her. Despite stretching as far as she could, her fingers proved too short. Her body came away from the trunk, narrowly missing the branch below her. Realizing she was falling, she cried out.

  Hearing her scream, Kwil jerked his head in time to see her plummet past a second branch. Summoning his magic, he blasted a beam of white light toward her, stopping her in midair. Holding her securely in place, he took a deep breath and focused his energy to holding the spell.

  “Thanks for saving me from breaking my neck,” Nera said, hovering several feet above the ground. Unsure why she was still hanging in the air, she added, “You can lower me down now.”

  “I don’t know how,” Kwil admitted, swallowing hard. Having never manipulated an object weighing more than a few pounds, he was unsure how to proceed with Nera. If he moved her too fast, he risked losing control and dropping her.

  This was not the time for her friend to have so much self-doubt. “You can do this, Kwil,” Nera said. “I trust you.” She held her breath, bracing herself just in case.

  With his friend’s words of encouragement echoing in his ears, the young mage attempted to calm his mind. Blocking out the rest of the world, he carefully moved his fingers, creating the gentlest path of descent he could manage. Nera drifted softly to the ground.

  Lying flat on her back, Nera finally let out the breath she had been holding. Sitting up, she said, “Nice job. Maybe we can practice righting a person so they land on their feet.”

  Kwil nodded and began to laugh. Soon, both friends were laughing as they collected their blankets and extinguished the fire. Within minutes they were on their way back to the road, the fallen leaves crunching beneath their feet.

  “I’m kind of hungry,” Nera said. “Let’s get something to eat as soon as we reach the town.”

  Kwil agreed. There wasn’t much left to forage in these woods, thanks to the hand of winter. They pressed on, their stomachs rumbling. Only one rider passed them on the road, and he took no notice of the pair. Soon they could hear the sounds of a town nearby, and their hearts lifted at the thought of a warm meal.

  Entering the town, they found it bustling with activity. Hundreds of people moved about the various shops, some of them looking to buy, others looking to barter. They pulled carts behind them and held bundles under their arms, all of them moving with purpose as if there were no time to spare. One man led a herd of sheep through town, calling out to potential customers as he went.

  “I smell fresh bread,” Nera said, her nose held high in the air. Stopping outside a small tavern, she said, “Let’s eat here.”

  Kwil’s eyes darted nervously. “I don’t think slaves are allowed to eat inside,” he said. “Usually, we would pick up our master’s order at the back door.”

  Frowning, Nera replied, “You’re my guest. If I invite you inside, that’s my own business.”

  “That isn’t how it works, Nera,” he replied. “I’m still a slave to these people. Taking me inside will only lead to trouble.”

  “Fine,” Nera said. “Find us someplace out here to sit, and I’ll go inside and fetch the food.”

  With a nod, Kwil moved around to the back of the tavern, his eyes searching for a suitable place to eat. A large oak tree stood out of the way of the hustle and bustle. Choosing the side facing away from the road, he sat with his hands on his knees, awaiting Nera’s return.

  It wasn’t long before she reappeared, two small bundles held in her hands. Spotting Kwil beneath the tree, she made her way over and handed him some food. “Pot roast,” she announced. “With carrots, and apple pie for dessert.”

  Gratefully taking the bundle, Kwil tried to remember if he’d ever tasted apple pie. He had not. The scent of the meal was intoxicating, and he closed his eyes for a moment to savor it. A massive hunk of bread, covered with butter and honey, was included in his bundle. Holding it up, he said, “This is big enough to be a meal itself.”

  Nodding, Nera said, “It won’t keep on the road, so eat as much as you can.”

  Kwil obeyed. Surprising himself, he put away every bite of his meal, including the extra-large helping of pie. It was the best thing he’d ever tasted. “Why don’t they serve this at the College?” he wondered.

  “They like to keep us on a strict diet,” Nera replied. “Healthy food only.” Wiping her hands on her pant legs, she said, “Ready to find Master Rili? He shouldn’t be far from here.”

  Hopping up, Kwil asked, “You don’t know exactly where he lives?”

  “No, but I could ask around,” she replied. “I’m sure it isn’t far from here.”

  “We should probably try finding him on our own first,” he suggested. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves. Someone might be looking for us.”

  “Good point,” Nera replied.

  Together they walked back to the road, pausing momentarily beside the tavern. “Are you sure you don’t want more of that pie for the trip?” Kwil asked, grinning.

  Laughing, Nera replied, “I think I’ve had enough. Let’s see if we can’t find Rili. Maybe he can teach you how to conjure more desserts.”

  They headed through the town, intending to scour the countryside for paths that might lead to Rili’s house. As they passed a well-dressed man, he cried out unexpectedly.

  “Your slave bumped into me!” he shouted, pointing at Kwil.

  Nera stopped dead in her tracks. “No he didn’t,” she argued.

  “How dar
e you, woman?” the man replied, his face reddening.

  “Listen—” she started to say. A sharp look from Kwil convinced her to hold her tongue. When others were around, she had to be his master, not his friend. With a sigh, she asked, “Slave, did you bump into this man?”

  Kwil shook his head but did not speak.

  “You would call me a liar?” the man replied, stepping forward. By this time, a crowd had gathered behind him, eager to see what had caused the disturbance. Many of them voiced their displeasure at Kwil’s response.

  “He said he didn’t do it,” Nera said, grabbing Kwil by the arm. She could tell the crowd was turning ugly, and they needed to get out of town quickly. “We’ll be on our way,” she said, turning around.

  The man stepped forward, grabbing Kwil’s other arm and violently dragging him to the ground. The mage did not resist. Harming a noble, especially with witnesses, would put his life in danger.

  “Not until this one has been punished for his insolence!” the man shouted. The crowd shouted their approval as a small child ran up to kick Kwil in the ribs as he lay on the ground. Nera started forward, but another man grabbed her.

  “You stay out of this, Miss,” he said, his expression severe.

  Nera struggled momentarily, but stopped when she saw the city guards approaching.

  “What’s the problem here?” one guard asked.

  “This slave ran into me,” the nobleman explained. “Then he called me a liar.”

  “He didn’t!” Nera shouted.

  “Is this your slave?” the guard asked.

  “He is,” she replied. The man who was holding her finally loosened his grip, allowing her to speak freely to the guards. “He is innocent of this crime,” she declared. “I was with him the entire time. Let us leave, and we won’t return.”

  The guard grinned. “You can do just that—after we teach him some manners.”

  Nera stood frozen in place. As she watched in horror, the second guard knelt and tied Kwil’s hands behind his back. Kicking him twice, he shouted at the slave to stand. As soon as the young man obeyed, the guard reached for the leather whip attached to his belt. With a smooth stroke, he struck Kwil’s back with the lash, a bright line of blood appearing on his white shirt.

  Nera tried to shove her way through the crowd, but the onlookers had formed a tight circle around her friend. She could not push her way through. All she could do was shout, her cries going unheard over the cacophony of voices. Turning her face away, she did not see the second or third lash her friend received, but the crack of the whip echoed in her ears, and she cringed with each blow.

  “That’s enough,” the first guard said. “Show’s over! Everyone back to your business!”

  The crowd gave no argument. Satisfied with the human’s blood, they moved away, leaving him on his knees. Nera rushed forward, taking his head in her arms.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  He nodded, his eyes still wide with fear. Taking her arm, he pulled himself to his feet.

  “We need to clean your wounds,” Nera said.

  Shaking his head, Kwil whispered, “Wait until we’re out of town.”

  Though his skin tightened and stung with every step, Kwil made it out of town quickly, never letting go of Nera’s arm. They made their way to the trees to avoid any citizens who might be watching. Nera helped Kwil to sit and removed the shredded shirt from his back.

  Pulling a handkerchief from her pack, she applied pressure to the deepest slash. The mage winced slightly at her touch, but settled down after a few seconds.

  “You should have used your magic,” Nera scolded. “You could have blasted that lying bastard into pieces.”

  “We both would have been punished if I had used magic,” he replied, his throat raspy.

  “You could have kept throwing fire at them until they stopped following us,” she replied. “They deserved it, the way they stood there cheering.” Her teeth clenched as she remembered the cries of the crowd, encouraging the guards to strike harder. Even the children had joined in. Such cruelty was unacceptable in a civilized society. How could so many stand by while an innocent man was treated that way?

  “I’m not skilled enough to take on a whole town,” Kwil said. “And even if I were, I wouldn’t want to hurt them.” He laughed softly, doing his best to ignore the searing pain. “If I’d known how to disappear, that would have been helpful.”

  “You shouldn’t have to disappear,” she argued. “There should be justice in this land, and no one should have to be treated that way.” She was furious, and she planned to keep the image of her injured friend in her mind for the rest of her days. Something had to be done about this. “Slavery and inequality can’t be allowed to continue. I’m going to put a stop to it someday.”

  Though he appreciated his friend’s dedication, he knew such a thing was impossible. “One person can’t change the world, Nera.”

  Staring at the bloody handkerchief in her hand, she replied, “One can try.”

  Chapter 8

  “Do you know a spell that will help this heal faster?” Nera asked, staring at the dried blood on her friend’s back.

  Shaking his head, Kwil replied, “Those spells are for advanced students. You might have learned them in your fourth year.”

  “I never would have made it that far,” she replied, sighing. Though she wanted to hurry in finding Rili, she knew Kwil needed to rest. Every time he moved, the scabs would open up, and the bleeding would start all over. If only she had some practical skills, she might know how to stitch the wounds. Instead, she had learned nothing useful in all her studies. Only poor children learned how to do such things. As a noble, she was expected to hire out any job that required any work. Ladies were expected to sit around and be waited upon and nothing more.

  With little else to be done, she sat back on the ground and ran her hand along the smooth wood of her lute case. “I guess we’ll have to avoid everyone we see from now on,” she remarked, flipping the case open and staring at her lute.

  In a gentle tone, Kwil asked, “Are you angry with me?”

  Sighing, she replied, “No, I’m angry at the world, my father, and my entire race for allowing slavery to continue.” She paused a moment before asking, “Why don’t the slaves revolt?”

  With a shrug, he replied, “There just aren’t enough of us I guess. I don’t usually encounter more than one or two working for any given family.” Considering his own luck at being taught to read, he added, “And it’s hard for people with no education, no weapons or training, and nowhere to go to decide it’s time to fight.”

  “I would fight,” Nera declared, still staring at her lute.

  “Maybe some of us aren’t treated as bad as others. My situation could be worse.”

  Looking up at him, she asked, “So you just accept it?” She shook her head. “I couldn’t.”

  “You’d be surprised what you’d be willing to do to survive,” he replied. “If I angered your father, he could have me locked away forever, or worse, kill me. I’d never see the sky again, and I wouldn’t learn any more magic. Look at what I’d have missed out on if I’d rebelled against him. We wouldn’t be friends.” He hoped those words would bring a smile to her face, but they did not. “There’s a lot I haven’t done, and I’m not ready to stop dreaming that I might actually do some of it someday.”

  Her demeanor softening, Nera tried her best to understand. There were worse fates than death, and slavery was probably one of them. “I am glad to have you as a friend, Kwil,” she stated. “I just wish we had met under different circumstances.”

  “If I’d been born a Gatan,” he replied with a smile.

  “Yes,” she replied. “Or if I’d been born a human.” Finally taking the lute from its case, she gently stroked the polished wood. “Tell me about your family,” she said. “Where are your parents?”

  “I don’t remember them,” he admitted. “But sometimes I dream of a woman who sings to me. I think she
might be my mother, but I can’t be sure.” After a pause, he added, “I usually dream about her when I’m feeling low.”

  “She brings you comfort,” Nera said. “I bet she is your mother. You’re remembering her from when you were a baby.”

  “No one can remember his first year of life,” he replied dismissively. He felt a little embarrassed at having mentioned the dreams.

  “No normal person,” Nera said. “But you aren’t normal. You have a natural talent for magic, and it wouldn’t surprise me if it was magic that made you remember her. Maybe she has magic too, and she sends you those dreams to let you know she loves you.”

  The thought gave him pause. Maybe his mother really was communicating with him. It was certainly better than the alternative—that she was a slave stuck in the service of a breeder and living a life of misery. He pictured the golden-haired woman standing tall and proud, surrounded by the glow of white magic. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

  Nera took notice of his expression and laughed. “It’s good to see you can still smile after all that’s happened,” she said. “Tell you what. After we’ve had you trained as a master wizard, I’ll help you look for her.” After a moment, she added, “If you want me to, that is.”

  “I’d like that,” he replied, still beaming.

  * * * * *

  After an uneventful night of rest, Kwil awoke feeling refreshed. He pulled a new shirt over his head before fastening his cloak.

  Nera grinned. “It looks great on you.” The shirt’s fabric was dark green and thick enough to keep out the chill. Had he not been human, her friend’s clothing would have given the impression he was a nobleman. The way he carried himself, though, was unusual for someone of the upper class. “You shouldn’t slouch so much,” she scolded. “Stand up tall, and keep your head high. Master Rili will take you more seriously if he thinks you’re sure of your abilities.”

  “I’ll try,” he promised.

  Nera planned to make sure he kept his word. If ever he appeared to be faltering, she would be there to remind him. He was no longer a slave, even if no other Gatan was willing to accept it. He was a free man.