by Rick Field
The Magic,Warped
Book One of the MagicWarper Trilogy
By Rick Field
Text copyright ©2012 Rick Field
All Rights Reserved
Chapter One
Liane grinned down at her friends, leaning casually against the trunk of the tree, comfortable in the knowledge that the thick branch she was sitting on would support her. Hers was the highest, it always was.
Closing her gray eyes, the eight-year-old leaned back, letting the wind play through her shoulder-length hazelnut-colored hair.
“Liane!”
Liane looked down. Yari was standing on top of a smaller branch, the wood bending and flexing beneath his feet as he balanced himself against the trunk. “Yes, Yari?” she asked, trying her best to sound imperious, then breaking down in laughter at her own pompous voice.
The others all laughed as well. “Whot'cha think of go'n t' th' river and try fishin'?” Yari asked. “Try an' catch dinner!”
Liane was silent for a bit, thinking the suggestion over. She looked at the sun; now well past its midday point. “We'll need t' hurry, t’is olmost evenin'.”
“Yeah, gruel,” Yari complained. “I hate gruel!” The others voiced similar sentiments, and Liane had to admit she agreed with them. She nodded.
“I know,” she said. “Money's tight again.” She slipped from her branch, letting herself fall down to the next branch, before hugging the trunk and climbing down with agility that came from years of climbing trees and not a hint of fear of heights.
She wasn't the oldest among the orphans, that honor befell Yari who was a whole six months older than her. But they all looked up to her. She was the smart one. The others all climbed down as well, and Liane stood on tip-toes to help little four-year-old Inai.
Giving the little girl a piggy-back ride, Liane and the orphans ran and dodged through the forest surrounding the city to the river. The water was clear, and the air was cooler this deep into the forest. Yari was an expert at getting fish, and Liane settled on a stone right next to the water, making sure not to disturb the surface, little Inai held close. Yari, meanwhile, was in his element as he tried to teach the others, again, how to catch a fish.
They had been coming here three or four times a week for the last month, and he had given the same lesson at least half a dozen times, but they all indulged him. He did catch a lot of fish, and they were all hoping to have something tastier than yet more gruel for dinner.
Liane couldn't catch a fish even if her life depended on it, and she knew better than to try and disturb the water, spooking the creatures and making them even harder to catch. After Yari had protested her involvement one day, she had nodded and agreed with him. Ever since then, she would keep the little one out of their way and let them fish.
After all, she, too, was tired of gruel. It hardly filled the stomach and she just knew that she was losing weight – as they all were.
Liane looked them over. Yari's cheekbones were getting more pronounced each day. Seven-year-old Momi was almost skin and bones, he never had much meat on him to start with, and the recent diet of gruel had not been helping things any. Six-year-old Fema was stumbling more than usual, and taking longer to get up after each fall.
They all pretended not to notice, just as Fema pretended nothing was wrong.
But they all knew what was wrong. They needed more food. Their hopes lay with Yari, and they all hoped and prayed that he would catch enough fish for all of them tonight. For one night, they didn't want to go to bed hungry.
Liane felt something still her hunger. She didn't know what the something was, but it filled her belly when she was hungry, and it kept her warm during the cold nights.
Feeling a little better, she got up, making a motion to Inai to remain quiet, and looked out through the forest. They weren't supposed to be this deep. If they were found, they would be lucky if they were let off with only a flogging. This was the Emperor's river, after all.
Sometimes, it was not so nice to live in the capital of the Kirian Empire. They were allowed to play in the forest, yet they were not allowed to harm its trees, its plants, or its animals.
And yet, they kept defying the rules, more and more often, in the hope of getting some more food.
There was a silent outcry from behind Liane, near the river, and she smiled widely. It sounded like Yari had been successful. Maybe they wouldn't go hungry tonight after all.
Hours later, Liane rolled over in her cot, looking up at the darkened ceiling. Yari had caught some fish, but they were smaller than they should have been to insure them all a decent meal, and there had been more grates than she had cared for.
It didn't matter that much, Liane supposed. Fish and gruel was better than just plain gruel. She sighed, and rolled over to one side. She really needed to get some sleep. Tomorrow would be there soon, and they would be woken up by the Caretaker, fed a breakfast of gruel and evicted from the orphanage for the day, before being allowed back in for a dinner of more gruel, and being sent off to bed.
Life at the orphanage had been getting worse. Money became more and more of an issue, and food was getting lighter and lighter. Even the portions of gruel were starting to get smaller. The Caretaker hoped they didn't notice, but Liane noticed.
She was good with details. She also knew better than to ask the other orphans. She was sure that they, too, had noticed. It was yet again, one of those things nobody talked about. Talking about bad things only made them worse. So they ignored them.
A scuffle from downstairs made Liane frown. At this time of night, the Caretaker should be asleep. Why was she still up, and making noise downstairs? Slipping out of bed, Liane slunk to the door, and listened at the keyhole. She could hear the frantic whispers of the Caretaker, as well as a deep, rumbling bass of a man's voice.
The Caretaker sounded distraught, and Liane's curiosity got the better of her. Slowly releasing the latch on the door, she slipped out through the small crack, trying not to wake the others.
The old building creaked and cracked all the time and the squeaking door was no exception. They had all learned to sleep through the noises, and Liane was grateful for it. Slowly, she made her way downstairs.
“Please don't hurt anybody,” Liane heard the Caretaker say.
Liane bit her index finger to remain still.
“I'll hurt anybody I want, missy,” the unknown man's voice grumbled. “How about that food I told you to get me?”
“I'm sorry, but we don't have any food. We're just a poor orphanage, and the stipend has been lowered again,” the Caretaker said, her voice pleading, and Liane bit harder.
“Then perhaps I should go upstairs and start offing some brats?” the man growled, and Liane could hear him draw his sword, followed by a startled scream from the Caretaker, and Liane gasped loudly. Surely he hadn't hurt her!?
“What do we have here?” the man demanded, suddenly standing right in front of Liane, who had both hands in front of her mouth, realizing too late that she had been caught eavesdropping by a huge and bulky man, carrying an equally large sword.
Her heart hammered in her throat as she was shoved inside, falling to the ground with the rough treatment. She grit her teeth to avoid crying out. She didn't want to alert anybody else, and get them involved in this mess as well.
“Get up, brat,” the man snarled, gripping Liane's right arm in one of his coal shovel-sized hands and giving it a good yank. He practically lifted her off the floor with the strength exerted, and Liane barely managed to avoid screaming with the pain it caused.
Her valiant effort was for naught when a voice boomed from outside, “Sheriff’s business! We have this building surrounded! Open the door!”
The man changed his grip on her, and Liane cou
ld feel the cold metal of the sword at her throat. Her breath stopped, and Liane could feel her legs go weak, right before dark edges circled her vision.
“Please, just tell us what you want!” Liane had never heard the Caretaker beg like that before, and it was a sound that she would never forget – the sound of the strong and self-assured Caretaker, begging for the life of one of her charges.
“I don’t want anything,” the man behind her declared, his sword tempting her pliant flesh, and Liane whimpered when she felt it part the skin at her neck. “Just be quiet, and hide me for the night. Let the Sheriff and his men run around and not find me, and nobody will get hurt.”
The Caretaker was about to agree, when the high-tension atmosphere was cut by more loud pounding on the front door.
The man tensed further, and Liane whimpered again when the sword slipped deeper, parting more than just the upper layers of her skin, and something wet started to trickle down. “Be quiet, brat!” the man behind her shouted. “Get rid of him!” He motioned with his sword to the front door, and Liane was glad the cold blade was no longer against her neck; even if the man’s other hand still restrained her. She was too afraid to try and squirm herself free.
As the Caretaker opened the door, she was roughly shoved aside, the Sheriff and four of his men streaming into the entrance hall of the orphanage, the small reception area now suddenly cramped. The sword was back at her neck instantly, and Liane whimpered again, still too afraid to scream.
“Let the girl go, Amos. You’re caught,” the Sheriff declared, coldly.
“I’m never going back there!” the man shouted, his voice faltering with fear. “You’re going to let me go, or I’ll kill this here brat!”
“The death of one orphan isn’t going to stop us, Amos,” the Sheriff said, his tone calm and self-assured. He knew he had his prey. “It’s going to get you the death penalty, though.” At his sign, his men drew their swords, further crowding the orphanage’s entrance area.
The man started to tremble, and as he did so, his weapon slipped deeper into Liane’s neck. As it slipped in deeper, she knew it was her end. She was going to die – but she didn’t want to die yet!
Something blossomed through her, the same something that had kept her warm when she got cold, kept her cool when the summers turned the orphanage into an oven, and kept her fed when food was tight. The something had always been part of her, protecting her, comforting her, and shielding her.
And now, the something blossomed deep within her, and it would save her life. The air quivered, and her hazelnut-brown hair tussled as something invisible and intangible whipped around her, ripping into the man behind her, and suddenly, the blade was no longer at her throat. A dull, pain-filled scream punctured the thickness of the air, and Liane found herself standing in the midst of a blood-red mist, right before a horrible shearing pain lashed through her chest, making her scream.
Grabbing for her chest, she realized she was falling, and the world was dimming around her, the pain overwhelming everything that she saw and felt.
Before the blackness was absolute, she heard the mutter of the Sheriff. “By the Gods… she’s a Noble…”
How long she was out, Liane didn’t know.
She woke up, aware of being in a real bed for the first time. Not a bed made from straw stuck in a patchwork sack, but a real mattress that was more comfortable than anything Liane had ever experienced in her young life. On top of her were real covers, with actual filling. She was used to a single blanket made from coarse hair, with patches and holes in it that would make her shiver when the wind blew through the holes in the roof of the orphanage.
Keeping her eyes closed, not wanting the dream to end, Liane trailed her hand over the immaculate bed sheets beneath her, and over the covers on top of her. She actually felt warm in this bed. Even though her body hurt, and every movement sent pain through her body, she still felt a smile appear on her lips.
She didn't know how long she stayed that way, her eyes screwed shut, afraid that the dream would end should she open them, and just feeling the softness of the mattress and the sheets and the covers. A pang of hunger shot through her, and Liane sighed to herself. Time to end the dream...
She opened her eyes, to find herself in a large room with multiple beds similar to the one she was currently lying in. The room was clean, the paint of the walls was level and unbroken, and the ceilings were beautifully vaulted stone, not made of patchy wood like what she was used to.
“Good morning, My Lady,” someone said, slipping into the confused girl’s vision. “You find yourself in the hospital connected to the Kirian Academy of Magic. May I ask how you feel?”
The woman seemed a bit cold, and Liane didn’t really understand the question, being asked in such a strange manner. But, being an orphan, Liane was used to being treated without love and affection, so the rather cold mannerisms were nothing new. She frowned slightly at the woman, not understanding the question, but not wanting to ask, afraid the question would anger her.
The woman nodded. “I understand, My Lady. You find yourself confused due to the change in scenery. You are at the Academy of Magic.” Liane nodded, she understood that part. She tried to keep the smile from blossoming. Every Kirian knew of the Academy of Magic, that illusive, secretive place where every Noble of the island of Kiria took their education. What orphan hadn’t?
“May I ask how you feel?” the woman asked.
Liane blinked. “Tired,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and painful. She tried to think of the rest. How did she feel? “Hurts,” she added, grimacing slightly as she pointed at her chest.
“I understand,” the woman said, once more. “It seems that you have used magic to save yourself from an assailant. However, one should never use magic at your age – it is unformed and untrained. Your magic was… broken. You are here to help it heal.”
Liane tried to ask the question, but her voice failed her. The woman helped her sit upright, sending more hot spears of pain through her body, and then helped her sip from a cup of water. The cool liquid soothed her throat. “I don’t understand,” Liane whispered. “Sorry.”
“You needn’t be, My Lady,” the woman said. “I shall attempt to explain.”
“Thanks,” Liane said, frowning slightly at being called ‘My Lady’ once again, only now realizing that the woman had called her that multiple times already.
“As you have proven that you can do magic, you are now a member of the nobility, My Lady,” the woman explained first. “As to what has happened… you were attacked. Do you remember?”
Liane froze, her body starting to tremble, and she nodded fearfully. Subconsciously, she rubbed her tender neck. Tears filled her eyes at the memory of being held securely, the blade at her throat. “You needn’t worry, the man who hurt you is in no condition to hurt you ever again,” the woman tried to reassure her.
“Really?”
The woman’s mouth quirked slightly, and nodded. “Yes.” Liane relaxed, not knowing why she trusted this woman so much. “As you were attacked, your magic perceived an attack on your life. It protected you. But, you are too young for it to be doing so. Your magic got hurt protecting you, and so we are trying to help you, and it, recover.”
Liane understood the simpler explanation, and nodded. “How bad is it hurt?” she asked fearfully. It was an orphan’s dream – the find out one had parents, to find out they were a Prince or Princess, and live in a giant castle – or, to have magic, and be admitted to the nobility.
The woman seemed sad for a moment, or was that her imagination? Whatever it was, it was gone so fast that she wasn’t sure whether she had actually seen it. “Your magic, My Lady, has cracked. It is, literally, broken in multiple parts. We are now trying to put the parts back together, so to speak. However, it is quite likely that you will always feel the results of what has happened to you.”
Liane swallowed, even though her throat was dry again. To find out that she had magic, only to immediately be
told that it was broken… She wanted to cry again. Something held her back, and she could feel it quite clearly doing so. She looked surprised.
“A calming enchantment was placed on the bed,” the woman said, recognizing the question before Liane asked it. “It is a standard practice for cases such as this.”
Liane nodded again. “What's the results? Can I still use it?” she asked. The woman frowned slightly at Liane's horrible lower-class speech, yet answered anyway.
“That, we do not know until after we have repaired your magic. It could be that you will have very little hindrance, and it could be that you will never be able to cast a reliable spell. That we will only know after we are done with the treatment.”
Liane just nodded, feeling sleepy again. “Sleep some more, My Lady.”
Under the hot covers, Liane was asleep within seconds, her dreams filled with magic, and all the wonderful things she would be able to do.
She woke up in total darkness, feeling a lot better after having slept for, what felt like, a very long time. The pain in her chest was almost completely gone, and her body no longer felt stiff. She was, however, aware of a more pressing bodily need.
Slowly, she sat upright, focusing on her body and how it felt, aware that the last time she tried to move, everything hurt. She didn’t hurt this time.
The large room went from total darkness to a dim half-illumination that didn’t hurt her eyes. “Good evening, My Lady. May I ask how you are feeling?” the same woman from earlier – or was that, last time? - asked as she entered.
“Better,” Liane said, smiling at the woman.
“You have been asleep for most of the day,” the woman said, “so I am pleased that you are feeling better. Is there something you needed? Some food, perhaps?”
Liane’s stomach, reminded of sustenance, chose to comment on its own. The woman smiled faintly. “Understood. I will return with something. May I ask you to remain in bed?”
She made a faint noise, and the woman stopped before leaving the room. “Yes, My Lady?”
