Authors: Aprille Legacy
It suddenly struck me that there might be other people
present. If so, would I be able to appeal to them? I pursed
my lips; Iain and Netalia were too smart to risk anyone
bailing me out of my ‘trial’.
I screwed my eyes shut. The aching, yearning pull for
my magic had taken over again. I fought it down. It left
me weak and I couldn’t afford that. I would only have one
chance.
I was napping lightly in my corner sometime the next
day. I was dreaming of white, flickering flames, and when
Netalia’s footsteps woke me, I felt invigorated, stronger
somehow.
“Glad to see you up and about,” she said mockingly,
approaching my cell. “Let’s go. I don’t want to keep them
waiting.”
Maybe this was going to be a real trial after all.
She led me up the cold, stone stairwell. I followed
obediently, wondering if I should strike her now or wait
to see if my trial would be fair and just. I decided on the
latter; I hated Netalia, but something in me repelled the
idea of striking the older woman… again.
We emerged into a long corridor, but it was abandoned.
I looked around as we walked, seemingly at the tapestries
hanging on the walls but really looking for my way out
once I escaped. I winced as the shackles on my wrists
shifted, scraping the raw wounds beneath them.
We arrived at double doors, and my heart sank as I
realised that this was it, and I hadn’t managed to pick my
way out.
It was a large stone hall, with seats that stretched up to
the ceiling; what I would’ve called bleachers back in my
world. My heart leapt as I saw that they were all full, that
every seat in the room was taken.
My heart sank just as quickly as I saw that they were
faceless shadows. Every one of them was identical, a mass
of shadow with the distinct form of a person. I heard a
slight chuckle and cast my gaze forwards.
Iain presided over the hall from behind a high, wooden
desk. He wore his usual robes, his features smug. I licked
dry lips as I remembered the magic he held in his
possession.
I ignored him. I could see Netalia out of the corner of
my eye; I’d already decided she was my target once I’d
seen the desk Iain was hiding behind. I couldn’t scale it in
time without him attacking me, and I knew that if I tried
to run, Iain would strike me down with my own power.
Iain continued on to read out my supposed charges. I
didn’t flinch or show any emotion as he labelled me a
traitor. For starters, I’d only been in this new realm for so
long and therefore thought myself unable to be a traitor to
a country I’d never been loyal to… that I could remember.
I balled my fists as the false trial continued. I bit my lip
until it bled when Iain called for the death sentence as my
punishment. I’d known that this is what this trial had
been coming to all along.
“Not for another thousand years,” Netalia spoke up
from right behind me. Cold sweat trickled down my spine.
“And then we’ll deal with her the exact same way we’ve
dealt with you.”
I turned and lunged. The chain of my shackles caught
her in the chest and we fell to the ground. A moment of
shame struck me as I saw her white hair splayed out over
the stone floor, but that shame vanished as she raked nails
down my face, cutting deeply. I cried out, but didn’t
budge.
“Or what?” I called loudly. I could feel blood trickling
down my neck, warm and sticky. “Or you’ll blast both of
us? I don’t think so.”
“Do it!” Netalia snarled, and fear shot through me as I
saw the madness in her eyes. She’d rather do away with
both of us than let me escape. “Do it, Iain!”
I looked up. The man from my bedroom stood in the
doorway, flanked by people whom I didn’t recognise. The
sight of him filled me with renewed hope.
I immediately lost sight of Jett and the others. They
were cut off from me by a mass of whirling darkness. One
shadow descended on me and grabbed at my arm. I gritted
my teeth as icy coldness racked my body. I fought it, using
my shackles as a weapon again. Netalia scrambled to her
feet and fled into the shadows. The one that had attacked
me vanished as I fought it, but it left me feeling weak and
cold.
Another came for me, and I took up a fighting stance.
Before it could reach me, however, a tongue of yellow
flame swallowed it up.
“Alright?” a young man asked me. I recognised him as
the one who’d come down to my cell shortly after I’d
torched Netalia, the one with golden hair.
“Here,” he said, motioning for me to hold my arms out.
I did so. He wrapped his hands around the chain
connecting my wrists, and yellow sparks shot between his
fingers. The chain fell apart, though the shackles
themselves still clung to my wrists. “Better?”
“Slightly,” I told him. “Who are you?”
His face fell. Before he had a chance to respond, more
shadows fell on us. We fought them, though I could feel
myself weakening each time I made contact with one.
I battered one aside, and as it shifted into smoky
nothingness, I saw Jett shoot a huge tongue of dark flame
at Iain. The man behind the desk fought it, white flames
barrelling down at the younger man on the floor.
He flung something at me. I caught it easily, thanking
the young man with golden hair for my renewed
dexterity.
I didn’t stop to think about it. I slung the swords onto
my back and then unsheathed them. I didn’t have to touch
the shadows now to destroy them, and within a few
minutes, the room was almost empty of them.
I saw Jett run towards Iain’s desk. He crouched when
he reached the base of it, and I understood what he
wanted. I took a running start, and then leapt onto his
back. He stood, thrusting me high into the air with the aid
of his own magic. I landed squarely on Iain’s desk, and
before he could react, pressed my right hand sword to his
throat.
I was suffering the ill effects of too much exertion after
not enough nourishment. I’d been fed another bowl of
beef broth, though I’d left half of it when my stomach
gurgled in rather unpleasant fashion. Steam rose from the
abandoned bowl beside me, and I resisted the urge to
drain what was left.
“Phoenix did not take your memories,” he’d said as
much, but I didn’t know how much to believe. “Iain took
your memories when you broke the rules. You were
banished.”
I clutched my head. I was so confused. I didn’t
remember ever being here before, I’d lost a year of my life,
all of these new people in this strange land were pointing
fingers at each other –
you took her memories, no, you
took her memories.
“I can send you home if you like,” Jett was saying,
though he seemed sad at the prospect. “I can deliver you
back there and remove any trace that you were ever here.”
I considered it. A few weeks ago, that was all I had
wanted. But now, the thought of going back into my
normal life when I knew that there was magic in the
world… I was already shaking my head.
A blur of colours whirled past my eyes. I was lost in the
visions as they filled me up. A girl with long curly hair
and bright blue eyes. The young man with golden hair.
The twin swords were so familiar because they were
my
swords. Though they’d been plain when I owned
them. The engravings had been carved into them since I’d
been gone.
“They are indeed, though some of them joined me
when you first arrived. Dustin managed to tip off a few of
your classmates that you were here; believe it or not, Iain
and Netalia continued classes as though nothing was
different. Whenever you went somewhere, they made
sure that the area was clear of people.”
As I recalled the moment they’d asked me to kill him, I
remembered their incentive. I grit my teeth as the
overwhelming need for my power gripped me. My father
took my arm and sat me down next to my lukewarm bowl
of broth. To distract myself from the cravings, I allowed
myself another sip of the liquid. It quelled my hunger as
well as the yearning for my magic.
“Sky. They took your magic. Do you know what that
means?” I shook my head. “It’s not widely spoken about,
but when a mage has their magic taken, it can instil
immense withdrawal symptoms.”
“Like a drug addict?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t know, personally, but yes. The idea is the
same. You would’ve done whatever was necessary to get
your magic back if there was any chance that you could.
It’s very dangerous, and they’ve abused something sacred,”
his features hardened. “A mage is always entitled to their
magic.”
I sensed there was more to his words than he was
letting on, but information was coming so fast and furious
that I didn’t bother pursuing it. Instead, I asked the
question that had been burning on my lips since sitting
down in this office.
My heart thudded as I waited for Jett’s reply. I wanted
it, no, needed it to stay sane. Otherwise I didn’t know
what would happen.
“It’s ok,” he said, taking my hand in both of his. “I
know how it feels to be without your magic… well I know
in theory. I’ve never had to suffer through it before.”
I nodded, though still felt ashamed. I closed my eyes as
the image of my sword swinging towards Phoenix’s neck
played yet again in my mind’s eye.
“Where is Phoenix?” I asked, expecting Jett to reply
easily. Instead, he took a deep breath and looked down. I
felt his hands tighten around mine. “Dad?” He looked up
at me. “Where’s Phoenix?”
“Exile,” he said, and my heart stopped. “They exiled
him shortly after they banished you. They couldn’t send
him to the human realm, he has no life there. So they
exiled him to the North.”
I breathed heavily through my nose. The rage that was
rising inside of me was beginning to overpower even the
desire for my magic.