by Bob Dattolo
Magically? Not much being passed on there. They don’t have a clue what I am. I still can’t do anything on purpose. I sure as hell can’t shift to a dragon. I spent almost five hours yesterday with a dragon trying to get me to shift. He’d go back and forth, trying to get me to feel what he’s doing. Nope. No shifting for me.
At least I can get my magic to move. That’s something. Not huge, but it’s still something. I wish I remembered what I was supposed to be. Maybe it’s as simple as trying one of those spells?
Except they actually tried that. How did they hide what I should have been? Easy, they tested me on everything. Obviously, what I should have been, and should still be, was in there. I just can’t tell which. None were stressed more than any of the others. Well, other than possibly shifting to a dragon.
General betting is on me being a dragon of some type, although they don’t know what I might be. None have white eyes. Then again, no mages have white eyes, either. There is a possibility I was injured from the mortmagi being used, except, as I’ve mentioned? Healing from them is a no-go. Never happened that they’ve been able to find. I was even able to get online a few times and looked up various things. Same findings. Removing mortmagi kills the person. In almost every instance. I was able to find four times where it didn’t happen.
One was from like 1,000 years ago. I’m not entirely sure it wasn’t an old wives’ tale or something like that.
The second one was from something like 400 years ago. That one talks about some sort of rot setting in and the mortmagi falling out. The person lived…for a few days. They died screaming from the rot.
The third one was from the 1800’s at some point. No specifics about how they were removed. Just that the person appeared one day, and they were off. No healing. No magic. No specifics about how they died, although it was heavily hinted at them being killed by people for removing them.
The last one was from about 50 years ago. With that one, I’m not sure I’d say they were removed. They were somehow caught up in a fight, and someone hit them with a machete or a sword or something like that. Thank God they had a picture because I’m not sure I would have believed it. The blade, whatever the hell it was, came in from the top and sheared through the front of their face. It removed the front part of their skull, their eyes, their nose, and most of their jaw. They were a gaping hole, basically.
Shockingly enough, the injury didn’t kill them. Their brain was okay. They managed to get a plate put on to stop them from dying from that. Eyes didn’t regrow. Their sinuses had to be removed. Their jaw had to be removed. They lived another ten years before committing suicide. They never did recover their magic or ability to shift.
I’m a modern medical marvel. Don’t I feel special?
Okay, yeah, I do. Very. I may be stuck with Stricken as my last name. I may be headed for the academy with zero abilities behind me or even knowledge of what I am. But I’m alive. I have magic. I have a chance to learn.
I’m going to focus everything in me on surviving and learning everything I can. Maybe, just maybe, I can see bowing out third year and being reduced to 50 percent of my power. Maaaybe. Sure as hell, I’m not voluntarily walking into another set of mortmagi. I’m not being stripped of everything. I’ve spent half of my life without, and I want what’s due me. I want my life back.
And I want to make everyone that touched me at Reggie’s place and my parents choke on that.
Staring at myself in the bathroom of the airport doesn’t do much for me. Well, beyond the fact that I can see. That’s pretty freaking huge, and I can’t help being shocked every time I realize I’m seeing again and that I have eyes.
And magic.
Playing with my powers gets the white stripes in my hair to light up with a small cascade of scintillating light. I love that. If I live long enough, I’m supposed to learn how to reduce that for weaker spells. If you’re casting something very powerful, you can’t hide the signature. That only works for lower-level things. Still, though, I will learn it. Hopefully. Otherwise, it’s a sure sign for everyone that you’re up to something.
No one nearby says anything to me as I stare at myself. I’ve heard four comments about my eyes, with most of them thinking that they’re just crazy, crazy light blue. Ice mages and dragons have very light blue eyes, but you’d never think they’re white. They’re definitely a shade of blue.
Not that I’m going to explain things to anyone.
Hell, none of the flight people made any reference to my name in any way or said anything negative at all. I expected them to, although they’re human, so they might not. Most humans don’t care much about the machinations of the supernatural part of the world. Not when it comes to stricken or not. To them, not having magic is the norm, so why bitch about it? Well, except the whole being blinded thing. That’s viewed pretty badly. Some norms are trying to get laws changed, but the leaders of the various groups tend to die rather horribly every few years. As do their families.
Gotta love mages and dragons for not wanting to be told what to do by powerless humans.
Introspection done, I grabbed my carry-on bags and headed for the luggage area.
It’s freaking me out that I’m free. I’m away from Reggie. I’m on my own. I have an ID with my name on it. No driver’s license, though. That kinda sucks. Then again, the academy doesn’t really allow kids to go out and about if they can help it. Too many kids trying to escape? No idea. The paperwork doesn’t outright say that, it just sort of beats around the bush about it.
Hmm, I didn’t spend too much time in the bathroom, because the luggage is just now starting to drop down into the huge carousel. That’s a good sign. Since I keep expecting things to go wrong, having them go right is kinda throwing me off.
As is having my bags come out pretty close together.
One check through everything to make sure no one messed with anything, and I headed for the door. Since school has been in session already for most of the year, I had to arrange a special pickup with them to get me there. Taxi’s will go there, but it’s a long ride and is expensive. Having them pick me up is expensive too, just not as bad as you’d see for a taxi. Car-share services will take me there, but they’ll be way more expensive. Apparently, no one wants to drive like three hours out into the middle of Montana.
Welcome to Big Sky Country.
Needless to say, I’ve never been in Montana before. Well, that I know of. I have no idea where I’ve lived my entire life, so that’s not saying much, I guess. Captain Garrison kinda hinted at me never being out here, so I’ve kinda been going with that thinking. Not that it does anything for me.
They tried to hide where I was flying out of, as if trying to stop me from figuring out where I was being kept. As if I’d use that to trace back to my parents. We flew out of Florida; except I have no idea if that’s where I lived. The car I had been in drove for the longest time before the people threw me out. Then Reggie drove for a while. I could have lived in Georgia for all I know. None of that helps narrow things down all that much.
It’s not a bad starting point, though. Something to keep in mind.
A guy holding a sign with MADDIE S / NAMA written on it catches my eye. I’m not shocked they went with the full name and not Sorrowfeld Academy. I’ve since learned that way more people use the unofficial official name than the full one, I just don’t think they’d want to advertise like that on a sign if they can help it.
His face changes as it becomes clear that I’m heading for him, and he looks me up and down without making a huge show of it. He doesn’t seem all that much older than I am, although that’s not an easy thing to judge given how slowly mages and dragons age. He doesn’t smell like what I’ve been thinking dragons smell like, but then again, neither do I. Mages can’t smell like a dragon can without an active spell running, so that’s one more reason for me to think I have a dragon in my future.
Honestly, being able to fly would be pretty cool.
“Maddie Stricken?” He s
ounds young, which makes me think he might actually be the age he seems.
“I am.”
He looks over my bags again before folding the sign away. “Then you’re with me.”
“Thanks.” The order of the day turns into following him as he starts walking without saying anything else. He doesn’t seem overly concerned with whether or not I’m behind him, yet I guess that’s a given. Why else would I walk up to him if I didn’t plan on following him? It’s not like he’d whip a car out of his back pocket or something. There should be walking involved.
Our target car is a jet-black Suburban. My bags go in the back after he opens the tailgate, then I get to slide in the front seat. I was going to sit in the back, but it looks like he’s got a ton of other crap back there.
He side-eyes the stuff in the back before starting up. “Sorry about that. I was asked to pick up some things for people, and it’s way more than I thought it’d be.”
There are bags and boxes from a ton of stores, all with different names written on them with black marker. “No problem.” It’s not like I can complain, even if I am paying for this.
He doesn’t speak again until we make it out of the airport parking. “We have just over three hours until we reach the academy.”
That’s about what I was thinking, so I guess that’s good. Makes for a long dang day, though.
“You hungry? Thirsty? Need to use the bathroom?”
“No bathroom. I stopped at one before finding you. I could go for some food and something to drink, though.”
“You have a preference?”
Any thoughts about my favorite place to eat as a kid dies before it even starts. I’ve tried to think through that, and nothing sticks with me. I’m not clear if that’s because my favorite place is local to us and that might help me figure out where I lived, or if my family was always there with me? I guess it could also mean that I didn’t have one, that just doesn’t seem likely, though. “No preference. I’ll eat just about anything.”
Another sign of possibly being a dragon, at least according to Captain Garrison. It’s rare for a dragon to have an issue with food of any type, while mages have the normal human reaction to things.
“Oookay. Sandwiches?”
“That sounds good.”
We made it another half mile or so before he pulled in and we ordered food for the ride. My appetite hasn’t changed much, although I’m picking up clues that I eat more than a normal human should. That’s normal for mages, with dragons eating more than that. It takes a lot of energy to shift to a dragon form that could be the size of a house. It’s all magical and not biological, yet it still requires food to keep things running.
He didn’t speak again until we were on the road. I have to give him credit for being able to eat while driving at the same time. That looks harder than I would have thought. It probably helps that there isn’t a ton of traffic out here.
“Unless something happens, we should arrive there just after dinner or so. You’ll have to check in and all of that.”
I have my little packet of paperwork handy, which walks through that a little. “Okay.”
His shifting glance my way gets a quiet deep breath from me since I know it’s coming.
“So…what’s up with your name? Stricken? Did your parents hate you or something? That’s a horrific name for a mage. Or a dragon, for that matter.” Before I could say anything, he blurt-adds, “And what’s with your eyes and the scars?”
Wow, we made it a whole half hour before the questions started. “Did they tell you anything about me?”
“No? Nothing. Why?”
“Do you work for the academy? Or are you like a third-year student or something?”
“Student? No. Work there.”
“Mage?”
He nodded, then shrugged.
“You bow out of the trials?”
His face fell a tiny bit, “Second year. No way would I have made it through alive. My allies told me afterwards that it was a good decision. They were lining up to take me down and absorb everything.”
Dammit to hell. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shrugged, “It is what it is, you know?”
“Umm, know? Not really. I’m starting to learn it, though. As for me? I’d say that my parents did hate me. At least there at the end?”
The truck swerved a little as he looked at me, “What? What do you mean? They changed your name or something? Stricken’s a fucked name. The kids’ll tear you to pieces over that.”
Lovely. “Yeah, they changed my name. While they were hammering mortmagi into my face and tearing my magic away.” The truck started slowing and drifting to the side of the road as he stared at me. “They’d just done my inducement ceremony. I remember that much. Then it turned to pain. I remember the mortmagi being hammered in. I’m almost positive the guy that did it was my father, but I can’t remember his face. Or from the woman that was standing over me. I lost everything. Family. Memories. My name. Went from something to Maddie Stricken. I’m not even sure if Maddie was my real name or not. It is now, though. Just like Stricken’s my last name.”
His mouth moved several times as he stared across my face again and again, “I don’t…what? How’s that…you can see, right? You have eyes!”
“Yup. No idea what’s up with that. No idea why they’re white. None of the tests would tell them. I don’t test as a mage or as a dragon. I can’t do any spells for them to be able to tell that way. I have magic and can move it, but that’s about it. My eyes healed when the mortmagi were pushed out by magic.”
“What the fuck?!? That’s impossible!”
“Yet here I am.”
“What…what…what were you doing when that happened? Did you do it on purpose? Somehow heal yourself?”
“What was I doing? I was nine when I was thrown out. A woman found me in an alley where I planned to die since I couldn’t move due to the broken bones. She had me until I was 13. She was killed by a dragon and he took me. I was his until less than two weeks ago. I was his fucktoy. For him and his friends. I was being raped and beaten and hit with a whip when everything went to hell and magic started building up and pushed them out.”
“Oh. My. Fucking. God!”
His response got me to laugh. “Right? Yeah, not the childhood I would have wished for myself. Those two assholes died hard. The cops arrived due to the magic happening, apparently from me…and now I’m here. My last name is Stricken because I am stricken. The scars are from the mortmagi. I can see now, but no one knows why. No one knows why I have white eyes or what it means. I know zero magic, yet I’m forced to go to the academy.”
He rubbed his face and moved to stare out the front of the truck. He looks fried from my short retelling, which is funny to see. It took him a solid five minutes to shake himself and wait for a gap to start driving once again. “This is…this is so fucked.” Another rub to the face.
“Tell me about it.”
He shook his head and glanced my way again as he sped up. “You don’t get it. My inducement happened when I was 10. I studied my ass off and learned everything I could so that I’d be successful when I went to the academy. I had an older sister that was weak as hell. She didn’t want to go. They…did…they stripped her of everything. Everything. She killed herself that night. I swore to myself that I’d get in and go all the way. I’d be powerful and make it through every trial.”
Hmm, “What happened?”
“What happened? The same thing that happens to the rest of us. We get there and find out others have been studying more. Or they know more spells. Or they just have more power. Or they make friends easier and have more allies.” His sigh sounded so pained, “God, I looked up everything I could about the academy. Talked to everyone that I could about their experience. Find friends. Study. Know your power. Everyone said the same thing again and again. I thought I was good to go. Then…fuck. We had two challenges the first week. I don’t even remember what they were about, but they fough
t. Mage and dragon in the first. Mage and mage in the second. The mage won the first. Tore the dragon to pieces with like a dozen spells at once. The second one ended with both dying. What was her name? Samantha? She was the stronger one and made the challenge. She was killing…Mike? I think it was Mike. He was dead. D.E.A.D. Except he set up a kill switch, basically. He died, and it went off. She screamed for like 20 minutes before it let her die.”
“Damn. That’s horrific.”
“Yeah. Not as bad as the trials, though. We had…15, I think, bow out of the trials. We had to watch them have the mortmagi put in. Horrific. Yet they lived. Every weak person in our class was wiped out in the trial. None of them died without giving up their magic to someone else. I made it through by pure luck. I wasn’t anywhere near the weakest. Hell, I was just above half when it comes to power. Yet I was…maybe down in the 25th percentile for spells known. Spells that would help. I made it through, then bailed on the year two trials as quickly as I could. Like I said, my allies? I had six allies going into the end of that year. Three of them were basically betting about which of the other three they’d kill and drain. I was the strongest of the ones being sacrificed, so they were offering money to the others to be able to kill me.”
“That’s screwed up. You still friends with them?”
He shrugged, “Yeah. Loosely, with two of them. They’re back on the east coast, so I don’t talk to them much. The last one is in Idaho, so we talk at least once a week. I introduced him to his fiancé.”
Oookay. This is so messed up. “Goody. This place sounds like so much fun. I seriously don’t get why they think an academy is a good idea when it just seems to turn into people being killed constantly.”
“You got me there. I’ve heard so many stories behind it. Frankly, the only one I believe is that it limits how many strong mages and dragons there are.”
