Cursed With Power

by Lindsey Richardson

  No one realized the dangers we faced; nor could they comprehend what was occurring. For them it was entertaining simply because it was new and mysterious. They could not even understand that whatever injuries we acquired from this fight we would have to see a healer for. Healers were gifted individuals who practiced in healing external wounds. They could almost always heal a magical wound, so long as it had not internally affected the person.

  I forced myself off the ground and stood to face my opponent again. The bruises on my body felt as if they had been carved into my skin with a knife. The dizziness in my head was enough to numb my thoughts. My only focus was Aldemund; I had gotten into the fight with him, and now it needed to end.

  “Not so lucky now, eh?” Aldemund chuckled as he spit. He turned his hand while I gasped in terror.

  “What is he doing to her?” a woman in the crowd asked.

  The world around me was fading away; my vision blurred, and I could not feel anything except my lack of oxygen. Was he choking me? I had never known of a spell that could have such an effect, but now there was no explanation to deny its existence.

  “Somebody call for the constable!” one of the men yelled.

  Why would they call for the constable? They knew the laws in place.

  My knees quivered until at last they could not hold my weight. I fell onto the ground, though I placed my hands out in front of me to stop before hitting the dirt road headfirst. Aldemund was killing me, slowly but surely, and I could not think of any spells to stop him. There had been numerous spells I knew in the past, yet now I felt as if I did not know any. It had been Dyanna who had gotten involved in practicing and studying magic like it was the center of her life. If only I had paid more attention…

  I saw Aldemund’s brown boots, but I could not turn my head to look up at his face. Suddenly his feet moved, and for a moment I wondered what he was doing. Then I felt a sharp pain in my side. He had kicked me; I rolled over and lay with my back on the ground. Aldemund stood above me and smiled. This man was a White magician, but he was truly the nastiest one I had met yet.

  “Goodbye, Celestria,” he said. He held the staff above me, aiming for my heart. Without a moment’s hesitation he plunged it down.

  Chapter Nine

  Life in Someone’s Hands

  Closing my eyes, I winced, expecting to feel the impact. Then abruptly I heard Aldemund scream in agony, and someone was running past me. I dared to open my eyes, but everything around me was hazy. A man knelt beside me; I could not recognize him, and my failing vision did not help me glimpse a better look at him. He spoke words to me, but I could not understand him. Either he wasn’t speaking Romanian or I was losing control over my body. In a minute the world went dark around me. The darkness was unbearable.

  ***

  My eyelids suddenly opened, but everything around me was hazy. The sun shone through a round window yonder from where I lay. The ceiling was spinning in circles, and as I sat up, I winced from a stinging pain I could not remember.

  Quietly, I attempted to look around. While images still spun in my head, I glanced down and could make out a table I sat on. The white cloth covering the wood was bloody and dirty, but I couldn’t recall how I had come to awake in this strange place. Was the blood mine? Just as I began to panic, I glanced over and saw a man sitting on a chair beside me. He covered his face with his hands, but his dark brown hair was groomed precisely.

  “Sir?” I asked, though my voice was scratchy.

  The man glanced up, and instantly a smile lit up his face.

  “Ah, you’re awake,” a woman’s voice said from the other side of the room.

  Turning, I noticed a woman with wavy hair and a thin figure sitting on a bed. There were journals and papers on the mattress, but the woman appeared to be more interested in the book she was reading. Though I glanced around, there didn’t appear to be any other rooms, but the hut was surely stacked in every corner with books and potions alike.

  “It’s all right, we’re here to help you,” the man said as he stood up to hand me a cloak, which I soon realized to be mine. He paced around the room; I was barely able to wait for one of them to explain what had happened. At last he stood still and offered his hand to me. I took it, uncertain of what to do.

  “My name is Alaire Sencler. This here,” he pointed at the woman, who walked over with a book in her hand, “is Roana Noke, who has studied the art of healing for years. I promise you she’s the finest, and she can be trusted.”

  As he continued talking, he rubbed his hand against mine. He was gentle, and oddly enough his touch was comforting.

  “Do you remember the fight? You were involved in battle with a White magician—what was his name?—and he nearly killed you,” Alaire said.

  “His name was Aldemund,” I said as the memories were returning. “There was a man kneeling beside me before the end of it all.”

  A smile flickered across his face again. “Mistress, I am the man who saved your life.”

  It took me a second to understand what he said; a moment later his words impacted me. He had stopped Aldemund? A man had risked his life for mine, even though we did not know each other. Death had been only a few inches away from me; if it had not been for him… You would have died. I thought.

  “And you’re a—” I began.

  “A Dark magician,” he finished. Releasing my hand, he turned around and lowered the sleeve of his tunic to reveal the triquetra mark on his shoulder.

  “No…” I sighed. All this time he had only been a few towns away, and I never once knew about him.

  Once he faced me again, Alaire said, “Yes, I heard someone shouting for the constable. He continued to say ‘there’s magic being practiced in the streets. A lady is dying.’ I heard from my bedroom; I went to see the truth for myself.

  “Sure enough there were two magicians fighting in the middle of town. I had the hardest time forcing my way through the crowd. When at last I succeeded I saw you—if you had only seen the look on your face… You look petrified, and thus I didn’t waste any time. I simply spoke the first spell that came to mind, and the fellow, Aldemund, ran away like a whimpering dog. In time, of course, he can be dealt with. I’ll gladly strike a dagger through his black heart.”

  Though he said Aldemund could be “dealt with,” I was taken back at his determination to kill a man he just met.

  I looked away from Alaire and watched Roana, who continued to flip through the pages of a book. She glanced up and realized I was staring at her, and then she came closer to the table and pushed back the shoulder sleeve of my dress.

  Looking down, I was only able to see gauze covering the burn marks that had been left on my skin.

  Carefully, Roana removed the gauze and returned the sleeve of my dress to its proper place.

  “You were severely burned, and I’m afraid the scars will stay with you. However, I did manage to help heal the severity of them. I believe Death stood outside this hut for a time, but he was mistaken to think he’d be leaving with you.”

  Alaire let out a long sigh. “She will live?”

  “For now, yes. If you choose to continue on this path with Dark magic, though, the fate of your life will not lay in my hands—rather your own,” she said.

  Once Roana returned to the same page, Alaire leaned over to see what she was reading. His relieved expressed changed to that of annoyance and anger. I barely knew how to react to his sudden change in attitude.

  “How many times have I told you not to read this?” Alaire’s face turned red as his voice grew louder. He snatched the book from Roana’s hold and then tore the page she had been reading.

  “I only read it to better understand your kind. The Dark magicians are the only ones who have a unique language, and the most powerful ones can be born as foreseers too,” Roana countered.

  “Yes, but you cannot perform Kinhlr. That spell can only be performed by a Light magician, and if anything goes wrong it could kill the Dark magician. Please… stop t
roubling yourself with magic you can’t use,” he said, though the fury in his eyes did not leave.

  “I’ll wait outside,” Roana responded. She exited the cottage with her eyes aimed at the ground.

  “What, pray tell, is the matter? Why are you angry?” I said, trying to hide the fear in my voice. I knew nothing about Alaire, and suddenly I felt extremely vulnerable.

  However, it was curious that a healer would read up on Kinhlr. It was the only spell that could take away a Dark magician’s magic; something the White magicians had come up with centuries ago, or so I had heard. It was rare for Dark magicians to actually go through with it, seeing as the procedure would change them forever. Without their Dark magic, they would have to live among White magicians as an outcast. The triquetra would never leave our bodies.

  Suddenly Alaire threw the book on the floor, and I jumped from the shock. I would have fallen on a collection of bottled potions had it not been for him grabbing hold of my hand. He let go as soon as I was safe from harm, and after a moment the anger seemed to fade away from his face. I steadied myself, feeling somewhat reassured that he would not lash out at me.

  “Roana has a good heart, but she has this ridiculous theory where she thinks she can ‘save’ us. As far as I know, there’s only three of us that I know for certain are alive,” Alaire explained. He was calmer now, steadying himself against the wall beside the table.

  I raised my head. “Three magicians? Who are they and how can you be certain they are living?”

  “Yes, there are you, myself, and another named Léal—”

  I interrupted and slid off the cloth covered table. “Léal Irvine?” Hope rushed into my voice, but there surely could not be many in the world with a name like Léal’s.

  “Well yes, that is correct. You know him?” Alaire replied while closely watching me.

  I nodded vigorously. “He was traveling with me until we parted our ways. Though he promised to return, I doubt he’ll be able to find me now.”

  “It shocks me to hear you parted from him, especially with the way your eyes twinkle at the mere mention of his name.”

  “There is not a twinkle in my eyes! It’s…” I glanced around the room, desperate for an excuse. “The light yonder; it reflects in my eyes.”

  Alaire laughed. “Well Léal has an interesting reputation among women. He’s quite popular, but I can’t say any of them have stayed with him for long. Come now, let’s go.” He gestured for me to follow him to the door. Briefly, he paused to retrieve my sandals by a stack of books. He placed them in front of my feet as I stepped into them.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Away,” he flashed a smile; something I was becoming too familiar with. “Unless, of course, nearly being killed in the street is your preference.”

  I sneered, and then followed him outside. Shutting the door behind us, Alaire informed me that my belongings had been left behind in the street. That wouldn’t have bothered me if it had not been for the strand of hair in my bag. Though there was no proof it was Dyanna’s, I felt most certain that it was. However, he would not permit me to return to the street because he feared the danger we would face if someone saw us.

  “Wait… How long have I been here?” I asked, realizing it was late evening in the swamp that surrounded the cottage.

  There were weeping willow trees and movement in the murky water a few inches away from us. It was a secluded swamp, but its inhabitants filled the land and water. There were two cranes at the far end of the water; their legs were long and their bodies were thin. They watched me with their red eyes while I stared at their long, black-feathered necks.

  “Beautiful creatures, aren’t they?” Alaire remarked, interrupting my concentration.

  I jumped for a moment, and then I nodded while turning away to hide my red cheeks.

  He chuckled at my reaction and then returned to my question. “You’ve been here for three days.”

  Turning to Roana, he said, “We’re leaving to get away from this town. If we’re lucky we might find Léal, but if not I have a place in mind where we can seek sanctuary.”

  “Forgive me, Alaire. I did not mean to upset you by reading that book…” Roana wailed.

  He held her chin in his hands, and told her she did not need to ask for forgiveness.

  What a ladies’ man, I thought to myself.

  “Oh! There’s a bag inside that I packed just in case you should decide to travel the roads again. I’ll fetch it,” Roana offered, running back into the hut.

  She returned within a matter of seconds carrying a small bag. Handing it to Alaire, she explained that there was enough food and water to last us a few days. He lugged it over his shoulder and then faced me.

  “Now if only I knew your name,” said Alaire.

  “Celestria Hale.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Celestria.” Alaire bowed, as if I was of a noble ranking. When he rose I caught a glimpse of recognition in his eyes. He stared at me, and during that moment I wondered if by some chance we had met before. In my mind there was no doubting I was a stranger to the man, but I could not deny what I had seen. Though he looked away, somehow Alaire had mistaken me for someone else. Either that or he knew me, which by all means was impossible.

  “Indeed, it is,” I said. With nothing packed, he offered to carry my sandals before he stalked through the filthy water. It was not until he was on the other side that he warned me of the alligators.

  Chapter Ten

  Aldemund’s Turn

  Aldemund stood in the doorway of his home as he always did when he had grave news. The door was open, allowing him to watch Agnetlin’s constable investigate the scene of the fight. The floorboards of the household creaked as Wilhem walked toward his leader. For a long time they both stood, motionless and silent. Eventually Aldemund cleared his throat and leaned against the doorframe.

  “I found one of them. The old woman told me about her, and as soon as I went to see for myself she was there,” Aldemund said, spitting his words out like they were toxic.

  Wilhem shifted his position. “Who was she? And how can you be sure?”

  “Hey,” he grabbed Wilhem’s jacket with both hands, turned, and pinned him against the doorframe.

  There was a soft murmur that leaked from Wilhem.

  Aldemund leaned in. “Since when did you earn the right to question me? Have you not listened to a single word I’ve said? I found a Dark magician, and she is roaming the streets freely without anyone stopping her.”

  “Just tell me... How do you know she's one of them?” Wilhem asked with terror filled eyes. He was pathetic; he always wanted to know whether or not the person was “innocent.”

  “I fought her, you idiot! There I was, prepared to kill her, and then out of nowhere another one of them attacks me. They were working together, and I can’t be certain either of them is dead.” Aldemund released his hold on Wilhem and returned to looking outside. He listened as Wilhem’s body crashed down to the floor.

  Outside the sky was growing dark, yet Aldemund sensed it was more than the weather changing. While he hated to admit that he had lost a battle, he also knew that he could find Celestria again. When he did there would be no one to stop him from breaking her until she screamed for mercy and died without any pride.

  “Who was her partner?” Wilhem asked as struggled to stand again.

  Aldemund slammed his fist against the wooden frame. “It was one of Esmour’s blood brutes, Alaire Sencler. There’s rumor he has some unique ‘gift.’ I swear on my mother’s grave, I’ll kill them both before they make a fool out of me again.”

  The silence crept into the room and rushed through the streets with the warm breeze. Wilhem's white hair blew in front of his shoulders as he stood up and advanced toward Aldemund. The men glanced at each other, but it was evident what needed to be done. Like various times in the past, they would have to rely on others to help them in the never-ending battle. The battle almost seemed like a fate they were
destined to live with for eternity. However, Aldemund knew that now the Dark magicians were hurting more than ever. Their forces were weak, and it wouldn’t take much to destroy them.

  “Who will be delivering the messages?” Wilhem nudged Aldemund's elbow to bring back his focus. He shuddered afterward, fearing he might upset his leader once more.

  Aldemund's eyes widened, as if a new idea had struck him. “Everyone. You and the others will tell every magician in the area about this. I don’t care how you do it; just have it done.”

  “Yes, sir,” Wilhem said. He started to walk outside, but Aldemund clutched onto his shoulder. To no surprise, his grip was firm and strong.

  “Do me a favor and follow orders this time.” Aldemund growled before releasing him. Wilhem merely nodded, and then walked out onto the street. There was a healer standing by the door, waiting to find out if his service was needed.

  You’re so weak, Aldemund thought, watching as Wilhem blended in with the other locals. He had already betrayed the White magicians before during a mission, but now Aldemund knew better. No one was going to slip up again so long as he kept his watch on them.

  As he strode outside, Aldemund bowed his head to the healer and said nothing. A teenage boy approached him, and he handed him a sealed message that had been made only moments ago before Wilhem arrived.

  The boy shook his head frantically.

  “Deliver it. That’s not a suggestion, boy,” Aldemund said with a snarl.