The Circles of Magic

by Gabriela Fišerová

  Feyrith sighed, letting his hands dry off first before getting started on undoing his three braids. He carefully pulled off the stretchy, leather straps that were holding them together, taking them off one by one and then shaking out his hair. It felt almost odd to have his hair like this, as although he did sometimes undo the braids, it wasn’t often, and it was usually only to fix them if they had gotten untidy.

  He made sure to collect all of the hair ties in one hand, taking a moment to study how the small, golden starflowers attached to each of them glinted in the fire before putting them into his satchel. It wouldn’t cause too much trouble if he lost them, but Feyrith still didn’t feel like lying about how it had happened. Elves were supposed to be honorable and virtuous, and lying was neither of that.

  Lightning flashed somewhere behind him, sounding even closer this time. Feyrith grimaced as the boom of thunder practically deafened him for a moment. He truly hoped none of the trees around him would get struck. But with the much taller trees of the jungle not too far away, Feyrith doubted it.

  To distract himself from the wind and rain, he unrolled his map again, checking where he was going for likely the hundredth time. But this time he focused on the towns and villages he would pass on the way. He would have to avoid traveling through some of them at least or he was never going to get to his destination. It was surprising how difficult it was not to get distracted, as on Aendor he’d not had many things to occupy him other than his studies.

  He found himself drying off fairly quickly at least, though the rain wasn’t letting up at all. It seemed to be gaining intensity if anything. Feyrith sighed, about to take out his journal and note down some of the thoughts he’d been having over the last day when the quasir, which had until now been lying under a tree, sprung up.

  Feyrith studied it, frowning at the way its eyes were wide open, and its ears flat against its head. But he quickly realized what was upsetting the animal when he noticed a figure by the mountain wall. There was a woman there, watching him. Feyrith relaxed, letting out a relieved breath. He had already started getting worried about some creature about to attack them, but thankfully that was not the case.

  He got up and stroked the quasir’s head, trying to calm it down. He was surprised at its rather strong reaction to simply the presence of a human. It had been perfectly calm in Everward. Thankfully the quasir let itself be convinced fairly quickly and soon lay back down with a quiet caw, this time closer to the fire.

  Feyrith kept watching the woman, knowing that she must have noticed he’d seen her by now. He wasn’t sure how to try to project that he wasn’t a threat, though, so he simply stood by the fire, making sure not to make any sudden moves. Finally, after a moment the woman seemed to decide that there was nothing to fear and slowly and cautiously started walking towards him.

  Feyrith studied her. He’d noticed that humans, in general, weren’t particularly well kept, but he wasn’t surprised considering the conditions they had to live in. But unlike this woman, they were never dirty. Her tunic also seemed to be torn and tattered in places, and her arm seemed to be injured. She wasn’t close enough for him to figure out how serious it was, but the woman had a bandage around her bicep, so she was clearly in need of healing.

  “You’re an elf,” she said when she stopped, standing a few feet away from the campfire. She seemed surprised, which wasn’t an uncommon reaction it seemed. Feyrith truly didn’t like the reason behind that, but as he’d told Edwyr, there were just not enough elves to protect every village and town. And since most of the large human cities were in the south, it left this part of the continent very unprotected, unfortunately.

  “Yes,” he replied, despite that being more than obvious. “Are you injured?”

  The woman still seemed a bit dazed, but she nodded, her tangled, frizzy hair falling in her face. “Uh, yeah. Um, I had a run-in with—ah, doesn’t matter. It’s nothing.”

  Feyrith took a few steps forward, making sure to do so slowly so as not to startle her. “I could heal you if you would like.”

  The woman raised her eyebrows at him. But then her expression grew suspicious. “And what will you want in return?”

  Feyrith blinked. He hadn’t expected her to ask that at all. None of the other humans he’d healed had assumed they would have to pay him for his services. Perhaps this woman was even less familiar with elves, though. She did seem to be more distrustful of him than anyone he’d met so far.

  “Nothing, of course. It is our duty to provide aid to those not gifted with magic,” he replied, bowing his head. The woman continued watching him with suspicion, but then she started to undo her makeshift bandage. It was bloodstained and dirty, much like the rest of her. Feyrith hoped the wound wasn’t infected.

  “Well, if you’re offering….”

  She stretched her arm towards him, letting him see the long gash. It didn’t seem very fresh, but it was red, and it looked painful. Feyrith once again felt nothing but pity for the humans. Their bodies would heal injuries like this most of the time, but it could take days, sometimes even weeks, and it would leave scars. He’d never truly realized how easy elves had it in comparison. It only made their mission of helping the humans seem all that more important.

  Closing the distance between them, Feyrith put a hand over her arm as gently as he could, though the woman still flinched.

  “Sal’eth e nali kar,” he muttered, feeling energy pour out of him and into the wound, which closed itself up within a second, leaving behind only a little dry blood and dirt.

  The woman drew her arm away immediately, staring at it with disbelief. She ran her hand over the place where the gash used to be, her mouth still open. Had she truly never seen magic? The other humans he’d met also didn’t seem to know much about it, but they hadn’t had a reaction as dramatic as this.

  “I…I didn’t know it was so….” The woman shook her head, finally looking at Feyrith again. “Uh, thank you.”

  “You are very welcome.” Feyrith felt a small smile tug on his lips, and he couldn’t manage to school his face back to complete neutrality. But then, he wasn’t wearing his hair properly right now anyway, so he supposed smiling was a lesser offense. And besides, he’d noticed that humans tended to be a little put off by him not showing them. Feyrith didn’t wish to question the elven traditions, but it felt more efficient to put humans at ease rather than following them to the letter. He would have to ask other elves about their views on this subject.

  “It’s not some kind of illusion, is it?” The woman was still rubbing her arm, as if expecting the wound to still be there, only hidden. Feyrith shook his head. Even if he had wanted to create an illusion, he was sure it wouldn’t look this convincing. He wasn’t very good at them, but they were frowned upon, given that the only thing they could be used for were tricks, so it didn’t matter much.

  “How does this work, then? You say some magic words and things get fixed?”

  Feyrith wasn’t sure if he should be amused or offended, but he didn’t think she was trying to be disrespectful, so he decided to humor her. “Words hold power for those who know how to wield it.”

  The woman frowned at him, looking a little annoyed even, but then her expression turned more pleasant and thoughtful. “Can you also heal more serious injuries?”

  Feyrith tilted his head to the side. “Is someone else injured?”

  The woman let out a tired sigh, running her hands through her tangled hair. “Yeah, my uncle. He broke his leg a few days ago.” She looked at Feyrith again, giving him a sad look that made the elf’s heart ache. “I know he’ll heal on his own, but that could take months and….”

  She didn’t continue, but Feyrith didn’t need her to. “I can heal broken bones, yes.” It might be a little more difficult, but he could use his staff to give himself a boost. That should be enough to ensure the healing would be proper and correct. But there was the matter of the storm….

  “So, you will help him?” she asked, a grin on her fac
e. Feyrith threw a look toward the flashing lightning somewhere beyond the trees. There was no thunder anymore, but the rain wasn’t losing intensity. “Oh, don’t worry. We can get to him without having to go into the storm.”

  Feyrith wasn’t sure how exactly that was possible, but he didn’t see the problem if there truly was a path to take without having to dry off again afterward. After all, the only thing he could do here was to wait out the storm, so he might as well help someone while he did so.

  Feyrith bowed his head, walking over to the tree behind him to retrieve his robes. He felt the tips of his ears grow warm and his heart skip a beat when he remembered that he was never supposed to let a human see him without wearing them. But there was nothing to be done about that now, he supposed as he quickly threw the robes over himself. In a way, he was grateful for the humans’ ignorance in these things, though he knew it was wrong to think that way. Still, at least like this, he could be sure no one was going to report him to the Council for improper behavior.

  As Feyrith quickly collected his things, he took one of his hair bands from his satchel and pulled his hair into a ponytail. It wasn’t the proper braids he was supposed to be wearing, but it was better than nothing. Finally, he took the quasir’s reins into his hand, tugging on them gently to get the animal to get up. Leaving the quasir here would be an unnecessary risk.

  “Lead on.”

  The woman smiled and started walking, looking back every so often to make sure Feyrith wasn’t lagging behind. He was surprised to find out that the seemingly small enclave of trees went on for much longer than he had thought originally, and they spent a while simply walking along the mountain wall, heading for what turned out to be a narrow passage through a crack in the moss-covered stone. Feyrith frowned at it. He’d certainly not been expecting this. At least it seemed to be wide enough for the quasir to pass through as well.

  So Feyrith once again followed behind the woman, wondering where this passage was going to lead. He did his best to ignore the occasional drop of water as they went, as even though it seemed there was a ceiling of stone above them, the crack continued all the way up, becoming more and more narrow.

  The moss beneath their feet made it difficult to walk, but thankfully Feyrith managed not to stumble or fall and make a fool of himself. He did let out a small breath of relief when he spotted an exit, but he made sure his sigh was quiet enough for the woman not to hear him. He was likely the first elf she had ever met, and thus he had a responsibility to represent his people well. It was frankly a lot of pressure, the more Feyrith thought about it.

  “It’s over there,” she said as she walked outside, waving her arm, with Feyrith right behind her. On this side, more trees were shielding them from the storm, though there wasn’t enough of them to stop all of the rain. Feyrith frowned, trying to find a house until he spotted a large, rocky hole in the ground a bit away from him, partially hidden by shrubs.

  Feyrith couldn’t hide his grimace as he followed the woman down into the underground tunnel, leaving the quasir by the entrance. Did these humans truly have to live in a cave? If so, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. It would certainly explain why the woman was covered in dirt, at least, but Feyrith couldn’t help but feel surprised. He’d never read about anything like this.

  Torches lined the walls to light their way as they got too far down for daylight to reach. But before he could ask about how large this cave was, they reached a well-lit, open room with a large table in the middle of it, a few chairs around it, rugs and animal skins covering the floor, and an ornate, metal chandelier hanging from the stone ceiling. Feyrith immediately had many more questions, but as there was another human here, sitting at the table, the elf left them unsaid.

  “Is that an elf?” The chair he had been sitting on made a loud noise as it scraped against the floor, the man practically jumping up in shock.

  “Yes, he’s here to heal Uncle’s leg.”

  The tone she used was a little odd, Feyrith thought, but he didn’t know nearly enough about human customs to judge this objectively. And the other human didn’t seem at all puzzled by it. Instead, he gave a nod and waved them over.

  “Right, of course. This way.”

  Feyrith studied the man as they followed him, noting that he wasn’t nearly as dirty as the woman. Perhaps she’d gotten into this state during or before the storm then.

  They walked through one of the short-looking corridors that lead from the first room, making Feyrith wonder just how much of this cave was natural and how much had they changed with pickaxes. Even if it were only a little, it was still very impressive to him. Though he still had no idea why these humans lived here.

  As they reached a sturdy-looking door, which Feyrith hadn’t been expecting to find here but likely should have, the man knocked on it. Immediately, there was a gruff, annoyed voice coming from the other side.

  “I told you not to—”

  “An elf is here. To heal you,” the man cut in, sounding equally as annoyed. It never failed to fascinate Feyrith how open about their emotions humans were.

  There was silence for a moment, before the man behind the door, who must have been their uncle, told them to come in. As the door opened, Feyrith was given a good look at the man sitting on a bed. Though the only thing he could truly pay attention to was the large, braided beard the man was sporting. It was simply a very uncommon sight for Feyrith. Though the man’s wrinkled and scarred, yet fearsome face was difficult to ignore, despite his wide, surprised eyes softening his features somewhat.

  “So you weren’t joking….”

  Feyrith turned his attention to the man’s leg, wrapped in what looked like a very simple cast, only made of a few thick sticks and cloth. Still, that would do nothing to complicate the healing.

  The man was giving him rather suspicious looks, but he didn’t protest when Feyrith made his way around the small table in the middle of the room and over to him. Gripping his staff tightly, Feyrith carefully placed the tip of it onto the man’s leg. He closed his eyes, muttering the healing words and focusing his magic through the staff.

  It was done in an instant, though to him it felt like much longer than that as energy drained out of him, leaving him lightheaded and breathing hard, leaning onto his staff. Despite this, he wanted to take a look at how well healed the man was, just to make sure Feyrith had done it right.

  But he’d barely managed to open his eyes again when suddenly something struck him in the back of his head hard. He immediately fell to the ground, his consciousness slipping away from him as he did, with the last thing his blurry vision showing him being the older man, now standing, looking down at him with an empty bottle in hand.

  7

  Feyrith groaned as he came to, but he couldn’t manage to open his eyes quite yet. His head hurt too much to focus on anything else, and so he took a moment to simply breathe in and out. But as soon as he regained the ability to think through the pain, he remembered what had happened.

  His eyes flew open, quickly looking over the dark, stone walls surrounding him. He flinched when he noticed the man in the corner, watching him, and immediately tried to get up, only to realize that his hands were tied together with rope. It must have been attached to something because he could barely move an inch. And to make matters so much worse, there was a piece of cloth filling his mouth, with another strip tied around his head, so he wouldn’t be able to spit it out.

  Feyrith’s heart hammered in his ears as he pulled on the rope, chafing his wrists in his panic. If he couldn’t talk, he wouldn’t be able to use his magic. And that meant that he was powerless.

  “Come now, elf, you won’t come to any harm,” the man grumbled, making Feyrith focus on him again. The elf glared, realizing that this was the man he’d healed. And who had then knocked him out. Why had he done that? Why would a human ever attack an elf? Especially one who had just helped him.

  Feyrith continued rubbing his wrists raw as he tried to break free. It was the o
nly thing he could do right now. What was the Council going to say about him getting overpowered and captured by a human? Assuming he would get away from here. But surely the man would let him go eventually. What could a human want with an elf?

  “Well, I won’t harm you as long as you behave,” the man continued, standing up and walking up to him. Feyrith bit into his gag as the man peered down at him. He’d never felt scared of a human—never even considered it—but now he certainly was. He’d never been this powerless and he hated it. Was this how the Cursed felt? Or the humans? It was awful. Though this human was clearly not afraid.

  “I will ask you some questions, and you will either nod or shake your head to answer them. Are we clear?”

  Feyrith gritted his teeth, simply glaring up at the man. He would not be ordered around and threatened like this. But his pride and outrage quickly dissipated when the man took out a large knife from the sheath hanging from his belt.

  Feyrith did his best to shrink away as the man pointed the knife at him, pushing himself against the stone wall. Finally, when he had nowhere else to go, he shut his eyes and did his best not to whimper as the man pushed the tip of the knife against his neck. But that was where the blade stopped, an uncomfortable, terrifying pressure against his skin.

  “Are we clear?”

  Feyrith was nodding before he could even think about resisting. He just wanted that knife away from his neck, but if anything, it felt like it was now being pressed at harder.

  “Good. Now, you can’t do any magic as long as we keep you quiet, correct?”

  Feyrith nodded again, swallowing thickly as the man finally removed the knife from his neck. He felt his whole body starting to shake. This wasn’t something he’d thought might happen when he’d come here. He’d imagined being attacked by a hundred beasts but never a human. Humans weren’t supposed to be a threat. And yet this one could end his life right now if he wanted to.