by Logan Byrne
I racked my brain before I thought of something. My first night here, Chancellor Pote said something about me being more powerful than I knew, or something along those lines. I wasn’t supposed to break free from Mirian’s binding spell, but I did, or at least I sort of did. Did that have something to do with my progression? I didn’t like it, being some guinea pig for them to try to use, but I couldn’t deny my budding powers, either.
Even though I didn’t know a lot yet, I was learning a lot, and maybe Blake was right about my powers. I did do well in the first trial; my spells went off without a hitch, even if my aim with the chains wasn’t as good. I was studying a lot, practicing in my tent, and doing more work than I ever had before. I just thought I needed to watch my back, though. Maybe Mirian and Pote had something up their sleeves.
“Well, I should turn in before it gets too late. I want to do some studying before bed,” I said, stretching and standing up.
“I’ll walk you there, it’s on the way to mine,” he said, getting up.
I liked being around Blake. I always felt at ease and safe with him. Besides, it was thrilling knowing I was friends with a guy who could rip my throat out at any second if he got angry enough. It was kind of hot.
When we got to my tent, even though I was enjoying being around him and didn’t really want him to leave, I said goodnight, hugging him, and went inside. I pulled out my wand, waving it at the candles and reciting the Ignitus spell, causing them to ignite. It was much better than having to find a match like I did before.
I picked up Britta’s book. I’d already gotten halfway through it, though I was skimming previous sections to quiz myself and make sure I knew up from down. Sometimes the spells were so confusing I was sure up was left.
After twenty minutes, I yawned so large I was sure my jaw was going to come unhinged. I set the book down, extinguished the flames of my candles, and lay back in bed, listening to the white noise of people walking and talking outside.
There was something about being here that made me content, having new friends and doing something with myself. A girl like me—a thief, a criminal, somebody society discarded—could rise through the ranks and potentially join an organization like M.A.G.I.C., cleaning up the streets of the same filth that I once was. It was sort of melancholic, like life coming full circle, even though that meant one day I might have to hunt down or arrest the same people who made sure I was alive when I was on the streets.
One thing was for sure, though, and that was that I’d never throw them under the bus or look for them unless I had direct orders to do so. Even I had morals.
5
Branches and leaves cracked and crunched under my feet as I ran alone through the forest surrounding the resistance camp. They were after me, chasing me, and I had to hide. I didn’t have my wand. I had no way to protect myself, and I knew this could be life or death if I didn’t get away.
The war sounds in the distance grew louder and closer as I huffed and puffed. My spit was thick, hard to swallow, and my cheeks and ears felt warm as I pumped my arms to try to run even faster. My experiences before coming here were coming in handy, but this was even harder than I could contend with. Hiding in a building or an alleyway was easy, but I was exposed out here. Only a few trees were even large enough to obscure my body.
I tumbled into a ditch, dead leaves falling down around me. I jumped up, brushing myself off, and looked for a way out. It was like a chasm in the earth. Tree roots jutted out of the dark dirt around me, and I couldn’t find a way out. “They’re going to get me,” I whispered under my breath.
“She’s up here, I smell her!” a shifter yelled to the others.
Panicked, I hid against the wall of the chasm, trying to push my body back against it and hide myself from view. I knew it was a long shot, but it was better than being out in the open. I knew I could probably get out of here, but not with them so close. Climbing would take time, and then they’d surely see me as I got up.
I tried to calm my breathing before I heard somebody walk up to the edge of the chasm. I could hear sniffing above me as I looked up, seeing a shadow against the dirt wall across from me. The sniffing stopped, and it sounded like the person had walked away, the shadow disappearing. Was it that easy? Were they really gone?
I slowly stepped away from the wall and climbed the roots, my head just barely peeping up over the edge. Then I looked straight up. They hadn’t left, and now I was in deep trouble.
“There she is!” one yelled, pointing at me.
I fell back down into the pit and backed up slowly, shuffling my feet. “It’s over, you’re ours now,” Britta said, smiling.
“I’m not giving up,” I said. “I’ve never given up.”
She took out her wand, pointing it at me. I stumbled walking backwards and fell on my butt onto the ground. “Pacificate,” she said slowly, the tip of her wand lighting up.
I put my hands up as the spell came out. She seemed to move in slow motion, but nothing happened—at least concerning her spell. “W-what?” she asked, in shock. My hands were glowing blue, like there were flames around them. Her spell did nothing to me and my entire body was free to move around.
“She’s one of them,” Charlie said, wide-eyed.
“What’s wrong with me?” I asked, my heart racing and my stomach dropping.
•••
The magic around my hands died down as we moved towards camp. Britta, Charlie, and another boy they were teamed with didn’t really say much on the walk back. We were playing war games—at least that was what they called them—where one of us had to run and get away to a safe spot before the other team could find them. It was supposed to simulate what to do if you were trapped in the forest, or anywhere else, and needed to find safety. I guess they were teaching us about Kiren and his army instead of what to do when we were at M.A.G.I.C. They wanted us to be prepared on all fronts.
“I sensed your distress call,” Mirian said to Britta as we arrived back in camp.
“May I speak to you over there?” Britta asked.
Mirian nodded and they walked over to the side, still glancing at me. I felt ashamed, and I didn’t know why, even though I had nothing to be ashamed of. I didn’t know what happened to me, or why my hands lit up like that, but I didn’t mean to do it. They all acted like they saw an alien, though, or like I’d morphed into some kind of hideous, grotesque monster. I’d gotten enough of those disapproving looks before, and I thought I wouldn’t have to deal with them here. This place was supposed to be a sanctuary.
“Lexa, may we talk?” Mirian asked, motioning for me to come with him.
I walked over, the two of us not saying much as we walked to his quarters. It was the first time I’d ever been inside. He held back the curtain for me as we walked in. His space was much bigger than mine, even though the tent seemed to be the same size. I guess magic had its perks.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I said.
“I know you didn’t, and nobody is accusing you of such,” he said, walking over to a large chest on the floor.
“Then why did they act like that? They acted like a third arm grew out of my forehead,” I said.
“They were just taken aback, that’s all. They aren’t scared of you, or at least so I hope,” he said, waving his wand in front of the lock and opening it. I took a peek, seeing what appeared to be fragile ancient magical artifacts, the kind my sticky thief hands would’ve loved to grab. There was gold, rubies, sapphires, and every other precious metal and gem I could imagine.
“Here we are,” he said, pulling out a dusty book, probably the most boring thing in the entire chest. He set it on a table, opening it and scanning his finger around the pages until he found what he was looking for and nodded.
“Is this what happened?” he asked, pointing to a picture inside the book. It was an old drawing, somewhat faded, but I could still make it out. The person in the picture had the same thing around his hands that I did, though his looked more menacing and
powerful. He looked familiar—an older man with a beard.
“Yes, but mine wasn’t quite that great looking,” I said.
“It’s what I thought—the reason that we had to find you, and I’m glad we did,” Mirian said. As he closed the book a cloud of dust escaped from the pages.
“What is it?” I asked, my curiosity stronger than my annoyance at him for not just spitting it out already.
“The mark of Merlin,” he said, taking out his wand. He began to recite some incantation, words I couldn’t make out or remember. The language wasn’t even familiar. It wasn’t Latin, which most spells seemed to be. It was…different, like an ancient language that few people bothered to learn anymore.
I looked down. My hands were beginning to glow again, the wispy flames taking hold as if they’d been stuck against a flaming blue torch. “This is it! This is what happened!” I exclaimed, feeling both nervous and excited.
He flicked his wand again and the magic went away, as if he were extinguishing the flames. “The mark of Merlin barely affects anybody anymore. It’s an ancient magic, the kind that most only ever read about in old textbooks. This is even greater than I thought,” he said, looking completely scared.
“Is it bad that I have this?” I asked nervously, my stomach dropping again after it had just started to feel like it had finally gone back up to its original place.
“The magic itself isn’t bad—it’s fantastic! It means you’re even more powerful than we originally hoped, but it’s also bad for us. We knew that Kiren wanted you, that he was searching for a girl just like you, but it never fully clicked why you were so important. We knew you could potentially fulfill a prophecy, but this?”
“So this is bad,” I said, sitting down on a chair and exhaling deeply. I felt a wave of sadness come over me.
“The mark of Merlin is one of the most powerful types of magic out there. A master can stop time, shift reality, and bend the will of almost anybody around them, except for those who are also versed in the ancient magic themselves. It would allow Kiren, assuming he captured you and you joined him, to literally enslave everyone around him. Every magical creature, from mage to pixie, would be under his spell and would never question him again. He would have pure magical supremacy over the entire realm, and it wouldn’t stop there. He could then invade the mortal realm, and they would never stand a chance, even with their weapons. You can never join him, Lexa. Never,” he said, kneeling in front of me.
The look in his eyes was one of desperation more than anything else. He was genuinely frightened. Maybe my past made him think I was a wild card, that I could go either way, but I wouldn’t. Kiren and his goons could torture me, skin me alive, and I would never help him, even assuming that was what he wanted to do. I wasn’t that person, and I wouldn’t help some dictator rule the world. Never.
“You have nothing to worry about, Mirian. I won’t help him. I’ll use this mark to stop him instead,” I said, my once-sorrowful state turning into one of pride and determination. There was no way in hell he was going to take me and no way we would lose against him now. I guess that meant my studies were going to have to be supercharged.
“I know of another—a boy, one who was born of the mark. I’ve never seen him. He might be around your age now, maybe a little older, but we lost track of him years ago. I just hope he didn’t fall into Kiren’s trap. Most would be susceptible to those kinds of torture and demands, and I couldn’t blame somebody for giving in to save their lives. I just hope it hasn’t come to that,” he said.
“And what do we do if it has?” I asked.
“We hope and pray that we can stop it,” he said, looking at me with determination. It was a genuine fear of his, not just dramatics. “For now, you’re going to continue your studies. You should keep all this to yourself, and I will take care of the other three and anybody else they may have told. We mustn’t let this kind of news get out.”
Mirian reassured me that things would be fine and that he would try to teach me to control this magic the best that I could. He wasn’t fully trained in it and his powers weren’t quite those of the mark, but I knew if anybody could help me understand this new life of mine, it was him.
I saw him later that day waving his wand in front of Britta’s face, her eyes wide. He looked over and saw me watching. Charlie and the other boy were with him too, both of them looking a bit dazed. He nodded, acknowledging she was taken care of, and I went into the mess tent and got my dinner.
“I haven’t seen you all day. Anything fun happen during your war game?” Blake asked, setting his tray on the table and sitting next to me.
“I got caught—it was quite the experience,” I said, smiling.
“You’ll get away next time. It’s too bad you didn’t have your wand to protect yourself,” he said, casually taking a big bite of his rare steak.
Keeping this a secret might be harder than I originally thought.
6
For the past two days I’d tried everything in my power to make the mark return. I got mad, sad, happy, and every other emotion I could think of while I sat in my tent at night. None of it worked. How did it work so easily in the forest? I didn’t even have to think about it happening then, and now I couldn’t make it reappear if my life depended on it.
I’d been studying, or at least my version of studying, to retake the second trial. It wasn’t even much of a retake, considering I’d had no preparation the first time around, but Mirian was still counting it as an attempt. There was so much I hadn’t learned during my youth that it seemed like everybody else here already knew. Since I wasn’t forced to go to school, and I couldn’t really afford it considering I was an orphan, education wasn’t a high priority for me growing up.
I sometimes wondered if that would’ve been different if my parents hadn’t died that night. They were into education, as much as any parents could be, and I thought I would’ve had a shot even though I was a pilt—at least to everybody else. My parents loved me, and they wouldn’t have wanted me to suffer academically because of my situation—which wasn’t even real, after all. I hoped there was some kind of afterlife, because I wanted them to see the woman I was becoming. It was just a shame they couldn’t see me with their own eyes. I thought they’d like that I joined the resistance.
As I sat on the edge of my bed that morning, since it wasn’t yet time for me to go to breakfast, the earth rumbled. “What the…?” I asked, looking around. Again, it hit, like Hades himself tearing open the ground to wage war on those on the earth above. I exited my tent and saw everyone around me in a panic. I looked around and tried to figure out what was going on.
“Lexa!” I heard someone call. I turned, seeing Britta. Her tent wasn’t far from mine.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Men in masks stormed down our paths, black bolts of spells brimming from the tips of their wands and slamming into people. They looked like they had no care in the world, taking down anybody who stood in their way. One looked at me, but Mirian swooped in, a trail of smoke behind him as he obscured both my and Britta’s faces. “Run!” he yelled, deflecting their spells.
“We have to get somewhere safe,” she huffed as we ran.
“And where is that?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. Her words didn’t exactly make me feel secure.
Tents and buildings burned as the two dozen or so masked people ran through our camp. The screams intensified, and I couldn’t do anything to stop them. I couldn’t control the mark, and I knew that Mirian would be furious if I even attempted it and was successful. These people had to be with Kiren, and they couldn’t know I was here.
“Lexa!” I heard, from somewhere to my right. It was Blake, Charlie, and Faus. They ran over. Faus was holding tightly onto a backpack that was slipping from his small grip. Blake hugged me, asking me if I were all right.
“Mirian said we need to hide. They can’t see us or else M.A.G.I.C. will know,” Britta said.
“T
hen we need to hide. I know a place, right on the edge of the camp. We can get there quickly if we run,” Blake said before shifting. Charlie did the same, dropping to all fours, his paws as massive as his ego. “It will stop them from recognizing us,” Blake said, his voice still the same as always.
I nodded and we all ran, skirting around our campmates as they ran around yelling and asking for help. Younglings hid behind boxes, shivering, and as I ran past one of the boxes, the same girl that I saw my first day in class was there. I wanted to stop and help her, but the others pushed me along. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she held herself in the fetal position, hoping that the masked men wouldn’t find her.
“We’re almost there,” Blake said, but then a masked man stepped out of a tent right in front of us. Blake roared, his claws out. He lunged forward and slashed the man’s throat, blood spurting from the wound, before Charlie jumped on him and finished the job. I was shocked, but I kept my mouth shut. As far as I was concerned, this was war, and we needed to do whatever it took to survive.
We teetered on the outer wall of the camp, a clear but slightly opaque barrier right beside us that both protected the camp and charmed its existence so nobody walking could find it. Blake had led us to a small hole in the earth, like the kind of chasm I was stuck in before, and we all huddled up and just hid. I knew we wouldn’t be found, since we were too far from the main part of the camp, but there was still an overwhelming sense of “what if” plaguing my mind. It seemed like nobody or nothing was safe right now, especially not us.
“We should be helping them,” Charlie said, now shifted back into his human form.
“Mirian has always made it clear that the students need to be safe. We can’t let them see our faces,” Britta said.
“It won’t matter if I rip their throats out,” Charlie said aggressively.
“Down, boy,” Blake said. Charlie rolled his eyes.
Without any warning or sound above, the barrier in front of us began to glow, turning a bright shade of golden yellow, the color extending all the way up as it made the bubble glow. “It’s happening,” Britta said.
