The small island that we mages called home floated in the middle of a giant crater that held nothing but water below. It was connected to the mainland by a single land bridge that was just big enough for three horses to walk side by side comfortably. There weren't many people that dared to bring a wagon over it.
I had lived my entire life in this magical place. Our ancestors, while trying to avoid persecution, were searching for a way to keep their people safe. They had found this small chunk of land in the bottom of the chasm and lifted the little haven up and held it there with some of the most powerful magic ever wielded. Magic that was long ago lost to the mages of our time. By doing this, they'd effectively made an impenetrable stronghold for their people to find refuge from the prejudices of their time. I reflected for a moment how I was similarly working on a way to free my people from the oppression that after centuries of peace had resurfaced over the past few decades. Only, since we had flourished so much in the past centuries, this tiny floating isle wasn't enough to sustain us anymore, and we needed a new option. Where our island was great for fending off armies, it didn't stave off hunger and starvation. The chasm was too wide to shoot an arrow across, let alone grappling hooks. And the water below was too far down to scale the island that way as well. The bridge being so narrow made it impossible for armies to be able to overwhelm the mages that lived here. It made for a perfect defensive stronghold, the original architects had seemingly thought of everything. However, they hadn't seen our current situation on the horizon. What they hadn't accounted for was that more mages would seek refuge here than could possibly flourish on this small section of land, becoming trapped due to wars and the humans who would kill them simply for being magic-wielders. Mages that were captured and forced to work for other Kingdoms gave every other Kingdom the same idea, that mages were just tools for their use. As more and more Kingdoms "claimed" a mage or two of their own, humans began hating and distrusting us mages out of fear of things they'd heard being done by those of us that were being held captive by enemy rulers. Not to mention the actions of those trying to escape their imprisonments. They didn't believe we should be free because we were too dangerous to be left alive or untethered to their courts. Most of the kingdoms felt that us magic wielders were too strong to not be controlled or at the least allied to them, so many of them had taken it upon themselves to either enslave or eradicate us. A mage traveling alone these days was in more danger than a rabbit in a fox den. The numbers dwindling down lower than they had ever been in written history, with two of the seven Keystone Families having already been wiped out. "Lyra..." The Queen began, breaking our silence, but I cut her off, painting one of my cocky smiles on my face. "It's okay, mother. I'll handle this. I understand what needs to be done, what's at stake. I'll do everything in my power for our people," I promised, leaning against the banister. She nodded, offered a smile of her own in return and put her palm against the side of my cheek. "You're so much stronger than I give you credit for, my Lyra," she bent and kissed the top of my head. I relaxed my shoulders and leaned into her embrace. "I'm going to hate seeing you leave, and the storm that will rack our island for days afterwards will be a firm reminder to our people to appreciate what you have sacrificed and continue to sacrifice for them," Sylvren said, a small smile pressed against my hair. "Thank you, mother," I said, it was the only thing I could make myself say. My mother straightened and slipped back into her role as Queen, "Come," she said, "We have a meeting to prepare for." She held her hand out to me, palm down. I took a deep breath and nodded, keeping a small smile on my face as I pressed the back of my hand to the palm of her outstretched one, in the formal way our people communicated mutual respect. A mage's status or strength determined whose hand sat atop the other's in formal situations. In that instance, my hand would go atop her's as my power was stronger even though my title was still only Princess. However, my title alone still dictated that I was the future leader of our people, and as such had higher status than anyone else, aside from the Queen Mage and her Consort. But I knew, my power had me outranking every other mage I knew of. Even though I never used it. However, despite my ranking being higher than hers, whenever we were alone together, I always submitted to her hand out of respect of her being my mother. The Queen shot me a loving smile and together, we walked from the room. I glanced back over my shoulder as we walked away from my favorite view in the world. From everything I knew, and away from life as I knew it.The smell of food was intoxicating as we walked through the doors into the dining hall. Mages from all over the island came here to eat, so it was rarely a quiet occasion. My stomach twisted painfully as I inhaled the aroma of fresh bread and seasoned meats. This was the only good outcome of yesterday’s tragedy; those who managed to return safely hadn’t abandoned the spoils of their hunting ventures. My people would eat well for a few weeks before another hunting party would need to be dispatched. The mages who offered up their services to cook and prepare meals always laid out the choices buffet-style on a long table. Everyone understood the importance of being mindful of their portions. We had little food to share between a large group of mages. I helped myself to a slice of venison, some fresh vegetables from the royal gardens, and one of Godfrey’s fresh rolls. He had absolutely perfected them. They had a beautifully crisp exterior, and once you took a bite, you would discover a
Sylvren's voice cut through the air like ice, her tone sharp as if crackles of electricity surrounded the Queen Mage. I watched Gil very slowly wiping his fingers on his pants, his face as red as my hair, which I was hurriedly trying to fix. As if regaining control of my wind-blown hair could erase what my mother had just witnessed. "A little inappropriate, don't you think, now that you're engaged?" Sylvren's words lingered in the air, tinged with disapproval. "Technically," I breathed out, more of a pant than a response, attempting to mask my embarrassment with false bravado. "I'm not engaged yet." I added, my hand grasping for the contract. When my fingers only felt the hard stone of the bench, I looked over and saw the contract lazily making its way back towards me on a soft breeze—our passion tornado had rehomed it several feet away. Snatching it from the air, I whispered, "Thank you," to Gil under my breath. I extended the paperwork to my mother, who ripped it from my grasp. "
Gil covered my hand with his. "That's the future. Don't worry about it right now. Live in the present. Right here. With me. In the garden you love so much," he said softly, and I looked up, meeting his golden-brown eyes—the ones that looked so much like Ignatius's. "No, don't go there. Don't dwell in that dark place in your mind. Stay here, with me. In this garden, with this beautiful Morning Glory vine that Enid absolutely hates because it's a waste of space and kills everything it touches," he crooned. He always seemed to know what I needed, even before I did. My thoughts, which had been a jumbled mess just moments ago, began to dissipate, pushed back enough to give me time to breathe and relax. He understood my struggle to prioritize my thoughts sometimes and always did what he could to give me a break from the constant noise of ideas and emotions in my head. "Don't think about earlier. Don't think about tomorrow. Just think about right now. Just this," he whispered right before
"Malorie," I called softly once I was outside the Council Chamber doors, knowing the Potioneer had stayed nearby in case she was needed. The other mage rushed out from around the corner and gave me a quick bow. “Princess,” she acknowledged. "Malorie, could you please show the esteemed Captain to the guest chambers where he can stay for the night? And if he would like to get out and stretch his legs at all throughout the day, make sure someone is there to escort him," I said, fully aware that Tross was listening through the open door, though I didn't turn to look at him. "It will be done, Princess," the Potioneer replied with another bow. I sighed and shook my head slightly. "Seriously, stop with the bowing, Mal," I whispered, and she nodded in compliance. I turned to walk away but paused and looked back over my shoulder at her. "If you run into my mother, and she seems in a foul mood, tell her I'll be in the gardens, would you?" With that, I headed out the side door that led into
"No..." He said, pausing to give me another look up and down, as if verifying something in his head. "In the event that she is still too young to marry and fulfill wifely responsibilities, she'd be promised to the Prince until she is old enough to carry out those duties. Obviously, we'd still take her with us and let her finish her childhood in the Kingdom, as per the letter we sent. But the sooner we can present this unity to our people, the better." He offered, looking like he'd rather be discussing anything but my daughter’s "wifely responsibilities" with me. Frustration bubbled up within me; apparently, there had been more in that letter than my mother let on. "Hmmm," I said, leaning back. "So, how old is she? If you don't mind my saying, Queen Mage, you look awfully young to have an heir old enough to be married off," he noted. "The Princess is plenty old enough to be married. She goes into this willingly. Fiery, a little temperamental maybe, but willingly nonetheless." I repli
"Your Majesty—" "And stop calling me that." I waved a hand in his direction. "That's a made-up human title meant to bolster and feed the egos of those who wear your unnecessary crowns. Real leaders don't need inflated egos or fancy accessories to prove their worth to their people. So for me to be called as such is insulting," I finished coolly. Tross just stared at me, wide-eyed for a moment, before shaking himself back to the present and clearing his throat. "Yes, Queen Mage. I apologize for any offense. But if I may, what do you mean you don't want to be ruled by the King?" "I mean just that. We'll ally with him; we'll help when needed, when we can. We'll fulfill our part of the contract. But at the end of it all, mages will still be their own people, their own rulers. This alliance, between," I paused, almost saying "myself and the throne," but corrected it to maintain the ruse, "the Princess and the throne, will, as your King put in his letter, be a symbolic marriage to sho
I remained standing as the stranger stopped just short of the table, keeping a respectful distance before bowing at the waist. "Queen Mage," he began, but I held up my hand to stop him, and he fell silent. I saw his posture stiffen, but I didn't care. I truly intended to show this man that he wasn't as important to us as his King had probably convinced him he was. If I could unnerve him, all the better for me in what I hoped would be a negotiation. "Thank you, Malorie, for delivering our guest to us. Council, we shall end here for today. Everyone out besides our guest, please." There was scraping of chairs and the soft patter of footfalls as everyone walked towards the door. Given how little I was looking forward to this conversation, it was a painfully short process. The council room wasn't large and extravagant; unlike the types of halls favored by humans, which were always grandiose and expensively made. We preferred simplicity and efficiency when it came to matters of design.
The healer set her shoulders as if steeling herself to say whatever was on her mind, then sighed loudly. "Humans? Princess, they don't care for their people; they own them. They shouldn't be the answer to our plight." She paused to gauge my reaction, and when I merely nodded, allowing her to continue, she pressed on, bolstered by the looks of everyone else around the table—everyone except for Gil, who was still pointedly staring at me. In turn, I continued avoiding his gaze, focusing instead on Amnati. "By doing this, you're not only selling yourself into the ownership of the King; you're selling all of us. We'll lose our way of life, our independence, our beliefs and culture. The humans will drive away everything that makes us who we are and force us to replace it with their own ideals, thoughts and beliefs. And why should we trust these people? They've butchered us, enslaved us and tortured our kind for sheer amusement in the past. They make sports out of grotesque acts. Aeon isn
I could feel my mother preparing to jump in when, finally, Triguni spoke up. "We've been waiting a long time for your birth. You'll accomplish much in your lifetime. As you've already shown, you understand the importance of calculated action rather than just merely relying on magic. Aeon would be proud of the woman you've become, Princess." She leaned back in her chair and resumed her silence. I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat at Triguni's words, my gaze once again drifting to Aeon's empty seat. For a moment, no one else spoke until Perrin, tentatively, ventured, "Yes, I see the appeal of this union," the Potioneer mused thoughtfully. "With those added supplies, we wouldn't have to keep stretching Kiell, Liza, Terra and Enid to their breaking points. The workload those four have endured over the last few months is beyond what I thought they could handle. But I fear they might be a little too willing to sacrifice certain things for our future." "What do you mean by