¤ Mage

The spectators bellowed. They all saw that vicious axe glance off the empty air before Aurora’s back to clatter harmless at her feet. ‘Foul play!’ A man yelled. ‘Cheat!’ Another screamed.

Soon, the whole crowd was in a disbelieving rage, yelling at the disgraced Lo, whose axe had been thrown through the air after the retreating girl’s back. Verchiel and Hedwig startled in their seats, an uncommon expression of agitation in their faces.

Aurora turned around, confused at the uproar. She spotted Lo’s axe at her feet. How did that get here… Picking up the axe, she walked back to her defeated opponent and offered it to him. Lo looked as confused as she felt, frightened even. Without meeting Aurora’s eyes, Lo took back his axe, and bowed to the girl that defeated him.

Eriksen walked into the arena, relief making his hands shake as he raised Aurora’s hand in victory. Presenting the winner to Verchiel, he could not help but notice that Aurora seemed as if she was just waking up from a dream, her eyes shedding a distant look.

Verchiel stood up, his pale face flushed. ‘You lied to us, Aurora of El Nath.’

Shocked, silence blanketed the entire arena. Lied? What did this fairy lord mean?

‘You entered this Selection as a warrior, yet what you displayed out there was a mage’s skill.’ For the first time, Hedwig spoke up. She rose, her shimmering lavender gown falling in graceful folds around her feet. ‘You could not have deflected that thrown axe without magical powers.’

Bewildered, Aurora could not reply. She did not remember feeling anything hit her. The spectators started to whisper uncomfortably. Mages were rare in these parts, and to see a warrior that was a mage! That was even stranger.

‘Did you conjure that shield consciously?’ Hedwig questioned, her fingers twisting in a spell casting gesture.

‘No.’ At Aurora’s answer, the air around her flared blindingly into pure white light. ‘The mortal speaks the truth, milord.’ Hedwig answered in deference to Verchiel, and returned to her seat.

As the truth-speaking spell faded away, Aurora could see the pondering expression in Verchiel’s eyes. He sat down, folding his wings gracefully behind him. ‘You are dismissed, Aurora of El Nath.’

What? That’s all? Aurora let Eriksen lead her out of the arena. Salmer waited for her at the gap in the ropes, a worried expression on his face. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Yes.’ She said curtly, still puzzled about the abrupt ending of the match. ‘Why don’t they announce the results now?’

‘They only do that the next day. There’s still more candidates to test. But, if you entered as a mage, you would not need to have fought a match. The Academy accepts all magic users that apply, because they are so rare.’

‘I didn’t know I had… magic.’ Aurora pronounced the new word with difficulty. No wonder Verchiel asked if she had magic in the first place. ‘Maybe I learnt it… in Before.’

‘Maybe.’ Salmer steered the dazed Aurora away from the crowd by the shoulders. ‘Come, let us get some food, and you can go home to rest.’

‘Mm.’ The girl nodded, still immersed in her thoughts. Was she a mage from Before? Why, then, had she never displayed any powers until today?

After Aurora’s match in the arena, she persuaded me to enter the academia Selections. I did not feel that I had a chance, but I humoured her anyway. Amazingly, the fairy in charge of my examination thought I had potential, and I left the Selections with hope.

The next day, when the results were released, to nobody’s surprise, Aurora was accepted into the Academy as a mage. She was not very pleased at first, but when I suggested to her that maybe she could find out about her past this way, she began to be more enthusiastic about it.

She was even more excited when we found out that I was selected to be trained as an Artistic Scholar. I felt a little apprehensive about it, but all that vanished as Aurora chattered on about how good it was that we could still be together.

And so, when the season next turned, we went to the Academy. That was when everything we knew started crashing around our ears.

There were times when I wished I had the power to stop that from happening; then perhaps Aurora’s story would not unwind so. But now, I realise that there was nothing any of us could have done. All of us, even the immortal fairies, are mere pawns in the game that the gods played.

¤ Tendrils of Awareness

A strange noise that sounded like a Wild Boar being slaughtered came from Silver’s left hand side. Pausing in her reading, she turned to see Jaysen’s head bowed low, his whole body swaying as he slept while sitting next to her.

Silver exchanged an exasperated look with Ida. The other girl just smiled sleepily, her green eyes almost half closed. Turning again, Silver poked Jaysen hard on the shoulder.

For a moment, it seemed like he would just topple over to fall asleep on the floor. But as the two girls watched his sliding progress over the bed’s edge with interest, he suddenly snorted and scrambled upright in a clink of armour, wide awake. ‘Who, what, which…?’

Jaysen turned to look at the two girls staring at him. ‘Um. What happened?’

‘You fell asleep.’ Silver closed the journal, and said, though not harshly. She felt the warm bed beckon to her tired body too. ‘Let’s continue this tomorrow. I think we all need some sleep.’ Ida seconded that with a huge yawn, going to her own bed.

‘Mm.’ Jaysen murmured in agreement. ‘Here, let me help you put away that.’ He stood up and reached out to take the book from Silver. Handing it over, Silver yawned too, and stretched out on the bed. The room fell dark, as Jaysen drew the heavy curtains across the window to block out the mild sunlight ever present in Orbis. Grabbing the plump pillow, she buried her face in it. ‘G’night,’ she said, her voice muffled.

‘Sweet dreams, fair lady.’ Silver smiled secretly at the gentle murmur. She heard Jaysen tread out of the room softly, the door shutting quietly after him.

She felt… liberated. For once in a long while, there was a slight loosening of the strange, intangible chains that bound her… what? She could not feel her body. In fact, she did not feel like she had any physical aspect at all.

Where was she?

She spread her awareness out, meek exploring tendrils curling outwards into the oblivion. Where was she? She tried to call out, but she had no voice box, no larynx, no tongue with which to form the necessary sounds.

One of her seeking tendrils sensed something. In the pure darkness, there was a comforting presence: one that was brimming with passion, steely determination and kindness. Her tendril curled around this presence, touching it like a blind man senses the face of a long-lost loved one. It felt like… a soul to her. A soul that was filled with purpose, and at the same time, full of hurt and full of scars.

A strange feeling welled where her heart was supposed to be and flowed throughout her entire intangible being; she recognised it as compassion. Somewhere… in Before… she had felt like that too.

And, in Before, she had a name…

Her contact with the comforting presence was cut off abruptly. Then suddenly, as if someone smothered her with a velvet cloth, she was ruthlessly compressed, all her tendrils forced back into the tiny non-space that she came from. She struggled, but without solid limbs, it was futile. In the deafening silence that was her world, she lost consciousness again…

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Links to previous chapters:
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Woot, lots of ITALICS. Hehe. I apologise for sloppiness in some parts of this chapter. My PE teacher made me do pull-ups today and my arms feel like they’re going to drop off.
*dull thud*
Um. I mean, my left arm felt like it dropped off.

Are there blueberry marshmallow cookies? I sure would like to taste them…