Aria explores a bit about the Ilosians and magic, then discovers her traveling companion is gone. Trying to catch him, she travels the entire day to the city of Travant, where all is not as it seems.

 

Themes apply to all chapters, not this one specifically.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5: Darkness of the Mind

Ilos, Day 8

 

I awoke just before dawn, the light of the sun showing only the faintest glimmer on the horizon, having had a good night’s rest without the interruption of nightmares. Sleeping fully clothed was more or less normal at this point, though I knew it was just an excuse to not have another reminder of how much different I was now. I grabbed my quarterstaff, heading down the stairs to the common room to get the bread and water I ate at every meal.

Thankfully there were no other patrons at this hour of the morning, and seeing no one at the bar to ask about food, I followed the smells coming from the kitchen. The cook was up already as well as one of her assistants, and they looked up from kneading dough as I came through the door. Angie and… Kalinda I think.

“Why hello dear, what brings you in here so early in the morning?”

I smiled at her, “Just some bread and water Angie, I’ll be heading out soon.”

“You’re a busy young thing then. Come and sit down, the bread will be ready soon.” She replied, pulling up a stool from where it sat by the back doorway.

“Thank you.” I took the stool from her, setting it against the wall by the door and propping my quarterstaff up next to it. The stool was just tall enough that I had to jump to get myself seated on it, and I sighed a little as I settled myself on it, my feet swinging in midair. It wasn’t an abnormally large stool either, I was just that short. Thankfully my hair wasn’t long enough to get caught under me when I sat down somewhere, but if it grew any longer I would likely have that problem.

Angie went about her business as I sat there, reviewing the words of power I knew. It was important to repeat them often so I didn’t forget any from disuse. To help with this, I’d attached a brief description to each to help me remember what they did as well as the word itself. Thankfully there weren’t that many, as magic in Ilos was mostly dependent on the caster for the effect.

“Fas. Fire. Faspos. Boil. Fassir. Lightning. Pos. Water. Possir. Gather water. Res. Earth. Resde. Strengthen. Reslos. Fortify. Cir. Air. Ka. Life. Su. Spirit. Etsu. Sleep. Ci. Light. Kasi. Healing light. Cires. Light barrier. Fassi. Burning light. Suressi. Spirit Barrier. Tu. Dark. Restu. Shadow wall. Postu. Freezing shadow. Surestu. Invisible Mind.”

I’d repeated this mantra pretty much every night when I was back on Earth, but it simply hadn’t crossed my mind to do it here until now.

I focused for a moment. Speaking of magic… Ci. Tu.

Two orbs appeared before me, each about the size of a baseball, one made of the purest white light, the other of the deepest black shadow. I slowly shrank the orbs until I no longer felt the drain on my mana, signaling that I was using slightly less then I was regenerating. This was one of the easiest ways to gain experience in magic, because even if you didn’t do anything with it, just using mana to sustain a spell of an element increased your experience in that element. That it happened to be an amusing distraction when you had nothing else to do? Well that was a bonus.

The orbs spun in a lazy orbit around an arbitrary point in front of me, gradually increasing in speed until my eyes could no longer separate them. I stopped them with a thought, admiring the sharp edges the magic in Ilos operated on. There was no slowing, one second they were spinning faster than the eye could follow, the next they were unmoving, simply one thing, then the other. I split the orbs into many smaller spheres, then molded them into rings of varying size so they fit one inside the other. Arraying them so they matched up on a flat plane, I slowly started them spinning, enjoying the mental challenge of keeping track of thirteen alternating rings all rotating in different directions, seven made of light, six from shadow. One by one, starting from the smallest ring, I sped them up until they danced in a mesmerizing pattern, then began adding color. Red for the one in the center, orange for the next smallest band of light, then yellow, green, indigo, blue, and violet, a kaleidoscope of color spinning in front of me.

I looked up to see Angie and Kalinda completely mesmerized by my display. The cook carried a large wooden tray with several loaves of steaming bread fresh out of the oven, having apparently forgotten she was holding them. The chorus of spinning light and shadow vanished, replaced by simple bands on my wrists.

I flushed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a distraction.”

“N-No, no, it was… Ah!” Angie seemed to realize she was still holding the freshly baked loaves and moved to set them down on the large table in the middle of the room.

“That was incredible Miss Aria! How did you do that!?” Kalinda spoke for the first time, her excitement overcoming her shyness.

I winced. “Please Kalinda, just Aria.”

“She remembered my name!” The girl gasped softly to herself.

“It was magic, basic magic at that.” I shrugged. “Just takes a little bit of practice.”

“Can you teach me? Please?” She bubbled, pressing her hands together and staring at me with pleading in her eyes.

“Kalinda! Don’t be rude.” Angie cut in, glaring at her assistant. “Don’t mind her dear, she’s just too starstruck to remember what she’s supposed to be doing.”

“I don’t mind, really. I’d even teach you if you can set down your duties for a few minutes, it really isn’t that complicated.” I replied.

“You- You would?” The older woman asked. “But, I couldn’t find any way to repay you! I couldn’t impose like that, especially not on a champion!”

I smiled at her softly. “I’ll tell you what, you give me two of those loaves, one for each of you, and I’ll consider that fair payment.”

“But- But-“

“I get to decide what teaching is worth to me, and this time it’s two loaves of your wonderful fresh bread. Besides, I’m not even completely sure all Ilosians can make it work, so you’ll end up doing me a favor too. Now come over here.”

I waited while the two women looked at each other before shuffling over to stand in front of my stool. Looking up to meet people’s eyes was still a bit startling, but I was slowly getting used to it. “Magic works like this. Everyone has mana, an energy that you use to cast spells, that replenishes over time, much like a well. As you use more magic that well gets deeper, holding more water and filling faster. Words of power are used like buckets, retrieving the energy and giving it a shape. Finally, you use the water to accomplish a purpose by imagining what you want to do.”

Both women nodded, signaling their understanding of my hasty metaphor. Seeing that, I held out one of my tiny hands, palm up. “By imagining a small flame down to the smallest detail, I can use a word of power to make it real. Fas.”

They pulled back, startled at the tiny flame that appeared floating over my open palm, no bigger than what a candle could sustain. “Now you try. You should be able to duplicate this if you try a couple of times. Just look at the flame and try to imagine it floating over your own hand, then say fas. Don’t worry if you don’t get it on the first-“

“Fas.”

I cut myself off, smiling at the small flame hovering above Kalinda’s hand before she gasped, the break in concentration causing the fire to vanish. So it appears even a cook’s assistant in a tiny village on the edge of a forest can use magic if she knows what to do. Is it just chance that I stumbled upon someone who has the talent for it? I watched the two women silently as they exclaimed over the simple spell, and after a few minutes Angie was also able to cause a small flame to appear, though she couldn’t hold it more than a second or two in her excitement. I let my own fire go out, lowering my hand. I should test this in other villages as well. If any Ilosian can be taught magic this quickly, why haven’t they been? It would significantly bolster the defenses of any village if there were even one or two mages about, and even more so if everyone could cast a few simple spells. I know there are mages in the capitol, so why has this knowledge not spread to the populace?

“-ia? Miss Aria?”

I blinked, looking up to see the two women looking at me with concern. “Hm? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about something. Say, do you have pen and pape- ah parchment? I can write down some more words of power and how to use them so you can teach the rest of the village. I’m sure you will be a lot safer from the animals and monsters around here if you can just set them on fire from a distance.”

“But we’ve no way to repay you! That would be a gift beyond value!” Angie exclaimed.

I thought for a few seconds. “Well, how about this. This involves the whole village, so I’m taking the two of you with me to go see the mayor, and if he feels the same way then he can find some way to repay me, though I'm not going to ask for anything. I'm doing this because I want to.”

“The mayor!?” Kalinda squeaked.

“I’d like to, but the bread…”

“Ah, that’s right, I’ll just take Kalinda then, if you can do without her for a little while?”

“But-“

“I think I can handle it, go ahead and take her.” Angie smiled at the stuttering girl and made shooing motions with her hands. “I’ll have your bread ready for you when you get back Aria.”

“Angie! I can’t- the mayor- I-“

“Come along then, I’ll be leaving soon and we should do this quickly.” I said, hopping down from the stool and easily dragging the bewildered girl out the back door.

“Have fun Linda!” Angie called after us.

The horizon to the east showed the slightest glow of light, the dawn and my departure time fast approaching. I hurried Kalinda to the mayor’s house, knocking on the door with my little hand. After a short wait, the door opened to reveal an older rather rotund man by the name of Courtan, the village of Warik’s mayor.

He blinked, obviously not quite awake, but unless he slept in his clothes like I did he’d already been up when I knocked. “Ah, Aria, what can I do for you? And why is Linda attempting to hide behind you?”

“Well, I was doing an experiment with Angie and Kalinda, and they seemed to think a couple loaves of bread was not sufficient payment for me teaching them how to use magic. Oh, and if you have pen and parchment I would like to use them.”

“You taught Angie and Linda how to use magic?” He gasped.

“Yes. It’s fairly simple, so I figured all of Warik could benefit and came over here. If you have a few minutes I could probably teach you as well. I’d just have Kalinda show you, but this is all pretty sudden and somehow I doubt she’d be able to summon the concentration to do anything.” I answered, glancing at the nervous girl.

“Kalinda, both you and Angie have used magic?”

“Y-yes Mayor.”

He nodded. “Alright, thank you for coming over here. You can go back to the kitchen if you’d like.” Kalinda scurried off and the mayor stood back, holding the door for me. “Come in Aria, if you would, and we can continue this conversation over some tea.”

“While I appreciate the offer Mayor, I must leave soon, so if we could simply skip the niceties…?” I said, stepping through the door.

“Ah, I see, well then at least come and take a seat while we talk.”

I took the offered chair, a comfortable thing, though a little large for me, as Courtan moved another seat to face mine.

“I have never known Linda to lie, so what she has said about magic must be true. However, I find it hard to believe that the inn’s cook and her helper can now do such miraculous things as I have heard champions can do.”

“Oh they’re hardly going to be healing grievous wounds or summoning rain quite yet. They can make a small flame like this one, but that’s about it.” I replied, saying the word of power inside my head and creating the same small flame I’d used earlier in the air between us.

He started back, surprised, but then leaned forward, examining the fire. “Amazing. And you say this is simple to learn?”

“Yes. That is why I asked for pen and parchment, so I could copy down both the words of power and how to use them to cast spells like this one.”

“For the whole village to be able to use magic… such a thing would be incredible! What are you asking of us for such a gift?”

I shrugged. “I wasn’t expecting anything for it.”

He was silent for a moment, then stood. “I see. I will fetch your pen and parchment.”

I could have asked for something, and in all practicality I should have. I could have used some of the potions and gear they have here, but… this is a chance for a new start. No one knows me or what I’m like, and people will remember if I lie to them or go back on my word. I already told Angie I wasn’t asking for anything from the mayor, so I can’t do that.

Courtan walked back in with a few pieces of rough parchment, an ink pot, and a quill, placed them on the table in front of me, and sat back down in his chair. I uncorked the inkpot and dipped the quill in it, and started writing, copying down my earlier instructions as well as all of the words of power I knew with the exception of Light and Shadow.

It was the work of minutes, even having to use an ink pot and quill, and soon enough I turned the pages so the mayor could see. He read them silently, then looked up at me. “This is it? This is the secret to using magic? It’s so… simple! A child could learn this!”

I nodded. “That’s all there is to it, though it takes a little bit to get used to the idea.”

“Give me a moment before you leave Aria, I have something I must retrieve.” Courtan said as he stood.

I glanced out the window. I should have a few minutes before Nameless leaves, and I can catch him easily enough if he decides to go on ahead. “Alright.”

Leaning back in the chair, I grimaced at the bands of light and shadow still residing on my wrists. I can’t believe I wasted so many days not doing this. I have to be better than that. No one is going to take me seriously looking like this, so I need to be able to overpower anyone I come across, and that means being as efficient as possible.

The mayor came back in, interrupting my thoughts. He was holding a small wooden box, which he set on the table and pushed towards me. “I’ve been told this is incredibly valuable, but no one will buy such a thing, so I’ve been keeping it here. Perhaps you will be able to figure out what to do with it.”

I reached out and lifted the lid, revealing what looked to be a small but wide metal bangle with nine ovular lumps encircling it at even intervals. Lifting it out, I hefted it, surprised at the weight, before tapping it with a finger bringing out its information window.

<A tarnished silver bangle. It’s much heavier than expected for an item of such size. It has no special attributes that you can ascertain.>

Standing, I slipped the bangle on my left arm, sliding it up under my sleeve until it fit snugly near my shoulder, then bowed. “I’m not sure what it is either, but there’s no telling what it may do. Thank you for the gift Mayor, but if you will excuse my rudeness, I must depart.”

“I am sorry to see you go. Thank you for all you’ve done here Aria, you and your companion have been a great boon to us.” He said, returning the bow.

I felt a smile bloom on my face. “Thank you Mayor Courtan, it was my pleasure.”

When I got back to the inn, I saw no sign of Nameless, and with the sun now peeking above the horizon, I was fairly sure he had already left.

Angie came out to meet me, holding a bag with the promised loaves of bread. “Here you are Aria, thank you again for everything, and if you are ever in the area please come back and say hello.”

I smiled. “Of course Angie, I couldn’t miss your cooking! Oh, have you seen my companion come down?”

“I haven’t, no.” She answered, shaking her head. “I’d better get back to the kitchen, no doubt Linda is ignoring the food and messing with that little flame of hers.”

“Alright, thanks Angie.”

Just to be safe, I burned time munching on one of the loaves of bread in the coolness of the morning’s light, admiring the vibrant hues of the sunrise. When the color faded and there was still no sight of my traveling companion, I opened my inventory, stored the extra food, then walked out of the village. Time to run him down.

The terrain outside the village was grassland more than anything else, though hilly enough to hide the surrounding landscape, and the smooth dirt road allowed me to accelerate to unbelievable speeds. Granted, it wasn’t that fast, but it was much faster than I had ever been able to go, even at a dead sprint, in my old body.

It was odd how different I ran now, how weirdly I moved in every action, but I was starting to get used to it. I’d been walking, fighting, and running in this new body for eight days now, and the system assist was slowly training me how to move correctly. I still had to rely on it a lot, too much really, but I’d no other choice. If I resisted this tiny female body of mine, if I struggled to walk and act like the man I was, I would likely die to some monster.

I didn’t want to. I hated, no, I loathed the way people looked at me, how they treated me, and it burned to know there was nothing I could do about it. That’s why I felt so attached to Nameless, why I needed him. He was an anchor, a connection to the real me, and I needed that right now, or this place was going to drive me insane. I was changing, even occasionally thinking of myself as Aria and not David, but I felt safe with him nearby to keep me me. As long as he was around, this was just another role in some RPG, if a bit more immersive, and I could relax.

But… can I trust him? I think so, as long as I help rather than hinder, but I’m still essentially an unwanted tag-along to him. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him attempt to ditch me.

At that thought, a coldness took hold of my heart, a coldness that slowly grew as I traveled down that lonely road.

An hour passed, then two, then five, and I drove myself onwards, the knowledge that I would find him on the road dwindling, reduced to a hope, then to a dream, and even that faded as the sun began to set. A single thought pushed me forward, repeating over and over in my head. No. Not yet. Don’t leave me yet.

The light faded and Ilos’ moon replaced its sun, a full glowing circle much bigger than Earth’s. The stars shone down on me, glittering in unfamiliar constellations, and a swath of color slowly moved across the heavens, the Tear I’d heard it called. I saw none of it. I sprinted ahead as fast as I could, as if I could run away from my fears, slowing only to kill anything that dared attack me. The landscape rushed by, each hill looking just like the next with only the twists in the road to tell them apart.

Then, cresting a high hill, I saw it in the distance. Nestled in an enormous valley, surrounded by flat land, it boasted walls of stone and torchlight from patrolling guards, its iron-reinforced gates closed to protect itself against the creatures that roamed the night, my destination, the city of Travant.

I stopped, scanning the now exposed road for any trace of my companion in the bright moonlight, but found nothing. The last trace of hope I’d held on to vanished like smoke, leaving an unsettling emptiness. He’s gone. Just like Nick. Just like Jess. Just like my mom, and dad, and sister. Just like my home and my world and my friends. Just like my gender and my body.

Just like everything and everyone I’ve ever known.

Something dripped on my hands. My vision was watery, my sight shimmering. I stared at my hands, my tiny soft hands, clutched together in my lap. I was on my knees for some reason, sitting on my heels, and I was shaking.

I’m… crying?

And as the unfamiliar heavens shone down on me in all their glory, I sat there in the middle of the road, with my head tilted back, and just let the tears stream down my face.

Alone.

 

 

Ilos, Day 9

 

“Well what have we here Durthan? A pretty little bit all alone on the road?”

“It does indeed seem that way Bort.”

Voices penetrated whatever foggy haze my mind rested in.

“Say, what city is that over there Durthan?”

“It looks like Travant to me Bort.”

Light pressed against my eyelids, and I could feel the ground under my legs where I was still kneeling.

I guess I fell asleep.

“I think the kind thing to do would be to escort the young lady to the safety of the city, don’t you think so Durthan? We wouldn’t want her getting hurt now would we?”

“That certainly sounds like the gentlemanly thing to do Bort.”

There were sniggers all around me from what sounded like… nine men, not including the two speakers.

Surrounded huh? I sighed, scrubbing my eyes with my hands before looking up.

There were two men in front of me, and both of them showed the same reaction upon seeing my face. Their eyes widened, and then this disgusting greedy smile spread across their features. I flagged them as suspicious immediately, along with the men surrounding me.

Absently I noted that I didn’t feel anything; no fear, no anger at their leers, no curiosity at why they wanted to escort me to the city, nothing. I wasn’t in the serenity of the Stillness, it was more of just a numb, lethargic feeling, as if I just couldn’t be bothered to care.

I stood, brushing off my leggings, and faced the two men that seemed to be leading, Bort and Durthan most likely, though I didn’t know which was which. “You were saying something about going to the city Bort?” I asked the two of them, tilting my head to the side.

The taller one on the left widened his smile in what he seemed to think was a disarming way. “Yes my lady. My men and I couldn’t possibly leave a young pretty girl like yourself out here all alone. There are all sorts of dangerous creatures about.”

I really don’t feel like fighting right now… Regardless, I still canvassed their weapons and equipment.

Two men with bows and rough leather armor, eight with swords and iron chain link armor, two of those with shields, and one with a spear and leather. Nothing in their stances or items to say I couldn’t kill them pretty quickly if I wanted to. Take the archers first with daggers, one to the throat each should do, then the spearman and both of the shields before they can recover and get their weapons out. A bunch of swordsmen wouldn’t be any issue unless they got me surrounded and severely injured, and that’s not going to happen.

I shrugged and nodded, “Sure. I’ll go with you. I’m Aria by the way.”

“Good then, come along.” Bort answered shortly before turning his back to me and moving away.

The men made a rough ring around me as we traveled the last bit of the journey towards Travant. They walked quickly, enough to make me jog with my shorter legs to keep in the center or else have one of the ones in the back try to feel me up. I felt positive that they were total scum, but I just couldn’t summon the will to give them a good beating for the touching they attempted to do. At least they seemed mostly focused on surroundings rather than me unless I drifted into range. I guess Bort, who was leading, really wanted to get to the city as soon as he could and was pressing the speed. He’d started sweating, though it wasn’t nearly hot enough for that, and kept glancing back at me nervously for some reason, a total one-eighty from the cocky self-assured attitude he’d displayed earlier.

“Why are we going so fast Bort?” The spearman, Durthan, asked, low enough that I shouldn’t have been able to hear from where I was. The focus I continued to exert on hearing and seeing the smallest things was starting to pay off, my senses were growing sharper little by little.

“She’s strong.” He whispered back. “I’m having a lot of trouble holding her, and I don’t think she even knows what’s going on. We need to get to the city before she makes any sort of effort to resist.”

“What? That little thing? You’re kidding.” Durthan took another look at his partner, sweating and white as he was, and seemed to reconsider. “We could still take her if she tried to bolt, and-“

“Shut up Durthan! She can hear us, I can tell!” Bort hissed and picked up the pace as we drew up to the city’s gate.

I met Durthan’s eyes when he looked back at me, tilting my head slightly now that I was kind of curious. He paled and dropped his gaze, running to catch up to his friend.

I wonder what that was all about. Holding me how? I could easily escape from this ring and nothing they could do would stop me, even if the guards up on the wall got involved and helped them. We passed through the open gate and into this warm, relaxing atmosphere. Well whatever, I’ll find out eventually.

Bort was breathing heavily, but he seemed relieved more than anxious now. When he turned to face me his cocky attitude was back full force. “Tell me girl, are you a champion?”

“Yeah.”

His greedy grin sprung back wider than ever before, nearly splitting his ugly face in two. “You hear that boys? We got a champion! We’re going to be filthy rich with this one!”

His men sent up a cheer after they got over their surprise, though it didn’t drown out the other voices.

“A champion?”

“Woah, she’s gorgeous!”

“Is that Bort?”

“How’d he get such a catch?”

I blinked at the crowd that suddenly surrounded us. How did I not notice all these people?

“I’ll give you a gold par for her right now!”

“I’ll give you two!”

“Five!”

Frowning, I turned to Bort. “So they’re what? Bidding to see who I help first?”

“Ahh, yes! Yes, of course, that’s what they’re doing. There are so many in this city that have needs you see, and they’re willing to pay for someone to take care of them.” His eyes darted, as if trying to come up with the words to say. “Since I found you first, I would have first privilege to, ah, ask for your, ah, help.”

“I see, but I don’t-“

“One gold fault!”

That shut me, and everyone else, up right quick. A gold fault was not something that one came across every day, hell, I’d never even seen one. All of my earnings and equipment in the beta and the time I’d spent up till now would probably only amount to five or six gold marks, and a gold fault was a hundred of those. This man had just offered nearly twenty times the money all my time in Ilos amounted to.

I could barely see the speaker above the bodies surrounding me, and that was because he was on a horse, or else whatever platform he was standing on was making tired horse noises. “The Duke offers one gold fault and an invitation to the men who found the champion to attend a feast with him. Do any wish to contest?” After waiting for a few seconds for a reply, he climbed down from his horse, vanishing from my sight until the men around opened a path for him. He was dressed in livery, but certainly wasn’t your normal messenger boy. Mid-age, he had some grey in his hair and carried an air of authority that I normally associated with nobles, not servants. Without further discussion, he dug out a coin about as big around as my fist with the city of Ilos stamped on it in excruciating detail and handed it over to Bort, who looked completely dumbstruck.

“You and your men will come to the mansion in one hour’s time, washed and in your best clothes. The Duke will provide your entertainment as well as all the food you can eat.” The messenger spoke briskly, then without waiting for any sort of acknowledgement grabbed my hand and started pulling me towards his horse.

I wanted to break his grip and snarl that I could walk, but that just seemed like too much effort, so I just ended up straddling his horse and hanging on as we galloped to the mansion/palace that occupied the center of the city. The place was rich, almost unbelievably so, and had a tower behind it that seemed to be covered in gold and overlooked the entire city.

This Duke must really have something he needs me to do, and the rewards will likely be phenomenal! I don’t remember him being this rich, or the tower, but I’ve never been inside the place, so maybe he was just hiding it inside in the beta. Or maybe it was always there. Why can’t I remember?

We stopped at the stables the Duke kept at the place and some stable boy ran up to take the horse, leaving the messenger free to grab my hand again, rushing me off to someplace else. The hallways were lined with incredibly ordinate tapestries and small niches where vases and candles crafted with exquisite care rested. A few servants scurried past me and my messenger guide, who was still pulling me along, carrying objects to and fro at almost a jog.

Why is everyone in so much of a hurry around here? The air feels so… comfortable. I just want to walk slowly and look at these tapestries. Why am I here anyway?

The man led me to a heavily gilded door and stopped. “Please go inside, remove all of your current clothing, and wash yourself. Clothes have been laid on the bed for you, please put them on after you bathe. The Duke will send for you in a little while.”

“Hmm? Okay.” I answered tiredly, quickly scanning the room for enemies. Tired? But I just slept… didn’t I?

The room was small, containing little more than a large mirror, a bed with some sort of clothing laid on top, and an incredibly ordinate rug. There was a closed door on the opposite side that I assumed led to the bathroom. I absently wondered what exactly they were having me change into as the messenger shut the door behind me. Regardless, I followed his instructions, stripping off my Hunter’s Garb and Comfortable Traveling Boots, as well as my socks. It took a minute or two to remove all the knife sheaths I had secreted about my body under my normal clothing, ending up with quite an impressive pile of weaponry strewn about the floor. I hesitated a moment before removing my rough, hand sewn underwear for the first time since I’d gotten to Ilos. He did say all of it.

Storing everything but my concealed throwing knives, their straps, my boots, and my belt with its inset Storage Gem in my inventory for the moment, I took a second to wiggle my toes a few times on the incredibly soft rug. This was probably the first time I had taken my boots off that hadn’t involved switching them out or sleeping, and it felt wonderful. I turned to examine the clothes on the bed, but the mirror caught my eye. There was a naked girl there.

She was short, probably an inch or two under five feet, with hair so black and luxurious it reflected an almost blue color that flowed down her back, coming to a stop just above her butt and kept back out of her eyes with a hairpin in the shape of a wolf head. A silver necklace with a blue crystal pendant dangled just above her perfect bosom, which wasn’t large, but suited her frame perfectly. Her skin was a slightly tanned but rosy color that was as soft as satin and lacked even the trace of hair below her eyebrows. There were a pair of what looked like bracelets on her wrists, one made from pure white light, the other from the deepest black shadow. She had the curves of a full grown woman, yet looked young, having a vulnerability that was offset slightly by the tarnished studded silver bangle that rested on her upper left arm. Her irises looked like they were made of yellow-gold, but seemed dull compared to the clarity I’d seen there before.

In the mirror I saw… me. And it didn’t bother me at all. When I looked at that reflection I saw me, not some girl whose body I was in, not some stranger, just me, Aria Nitidus. Did I think this was a big deal?

Abandoning the mirror, I walked to the bathroom entrance and opened it, a soft flowery scent drifting past me as I stepped through and closed the door. Inside was another small room, probably half the size of the bedroom, and was dominated by a massive copper bathtub inlaid with ordinate silver designs in the middle of the room. The floor was decorated with small tiles in varying colors, smooth enough to please the eyes but rough enough to give a good grip, and the walls seemed to be made of the same thing, if glossier. I touched the water with my fingertips, the warm scented liquid calling to me like a siren, and climbed in, not even bothering to remove my jewelry. Leaning my head back against the side, I felt my eyelids slide almost closed as I relaxed, letting out a slow breath.

Some indeterminable amount of time passed as I soaked there, reveling in the feel of the steaming water against my skin. It was only after the heat began to fade that my eyes drifted open again, tracking to a small wash rag draped over the side of the tub, along with a large fluffy towel. Blinking, I glanced around the room for another entrance. Were those there before? I didn’t hear the door open, so they must have been. I don’t really need to actually wash though; any dirt that gets on me vanishes after a short time.

Shrugging to myself, I ignored the rag and climbed out of the tub, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around myself, basking in its softness. It was big enough, or I was small enough, that hanging from my shoulders it almost brushed the floor. I dried off slowly, reluctant to leave the warm room, but I had no idea how long I’d spent in the bath and the Duke could send someone any time. Dropping the towel on the floor, I walked back into the bedroom and went to go examine the clothes on the bed.

There were five pieces of fabric and an open metal belt that seemed like it would click together in the front, all in the same dull grey, and all formless. I could tell that they were supposed to be panties, a bra, socks, and a short sleeved dress, but it looked like someone had just taken a glance and cut out some grey felt in the same general shape. I slipped them on, and they were as ill-fitting as they looked. The underwear and socks hung on me, barely staying on, and the dress trailed several feet on the floor. I sighed, disappointed for some reason, but slipped the belt around my waist and clicked it together, leaving almost a foot of gap. I had just dropped the belt, planning on using my own clothes, when everything changed.

No longer did everything droop like it was made for someone two feet taller and twice as wide as I was. The bottoms fit snugly, the socks came up to my knees, and the bra held everything in place even when I jumped, surprised. The dress trailed down to mid-calf, flaring out a little bit, but it was divided up the middle for free movement and the top part was snug, the belt serving as the divider between the top and skirt. Everything was incredibly soft, the dress caressing my skin as I moved, and it was all the exact same color as my hair.

Even though it fit perfectly and covered me completely, I still felt practically naked, which confused me for a moment until I spotted the daggers strewn across the floor. I’d felt that same sort of vulnerability when the beta ended and I was no longer allowed to carry around things to protect myself with, and it seemed that it had taken a much shorter time to develop the same paranoia again this time around.

My hands roamed over the now black metallic belt, examining the front for a moment before I found the catch that opened it. It came off easily enough, but nothing changed, the clothes and belt retaining their form and color. I took the dress off as well, placing it on the bed, but even that had no effect. Whatever magic changed the clothing, and it had to be magic of some sort, it didn’t look like it would be turning them back. Putting the issue on my rather long and constantly growing list of questions about Ilos, I took a few minutes to strap my daggers on in a way that they would be invisible under the black clothing. Slipping the dress back on and clicking the metal belt closed, I buckled on my other belt and sat down to put on my boots before standing to check myself in the mirror and make sure none of my weapons showed.

With the black clothing, the girl in the mirror looked absolutely stunning. There was something about the items that really accentuated the curves she had and emphasized that air of vulnerability. I had the kind of beauty that people would leap to protect, even if they didn’t know me at all, and it really showed with the dress on. Oddly enough, the leather belt with its sheaths I had buckled on at an angle over the metallic one, the tarnished bangle on my upper arm, and my Comfortable Traveling Boots all combined to give me a slightly dangerous air as well. I wasn’t sure how that worked exactly, vulnerable and dangerous seemed like they wouldn’t mix, but it was the most apt description I could come up with.

A knock at the door broke me from my thoughts, and after confirming that none of my blades showed I moved to open the door.

That same noble-messenger-servant guy was standing there, tapping his foot impatiently. “Come on, come on, the Duke and his guests are waiting for you.” He admonished, seizing my wrist again and pulling me along, not even noticing when his hand went through my Shadow bracelet.

I had to jog to keep up with him, and though it may have seemed hard to run in a dress, it really wasn’t. The divided skirt allowed full freedom of movement, making jogging along with the man much easier. We traveled through a couple of rich and mostly identical looking hallways until we reached a massive gilded door. The thing must have cost an enormous sum to get into the Duke’s palace, not to mention creating the thing, but the messenger only grasped the door and pushed. It swung slowly open to reveal a grand hall full of men eating and drinking at long tables with another table on a dais with a throne behind it.

I scanned the room more out of reflex than anything else, noting the exit into what looked like a kitchen to the side, the door supposedly hidden in the shadows behind the throne, and the guards standing next to what I assumed to be the Duke on the extravagantly made chair. There were forty three men in the room along with some number of barely clothed, or sometimes completely unclothed, waitresses that rushed in and out of the side door, keeping everyone supplied with drink. I spotted Bort and his men sitting at the end of the table to my left, closest to the Duke.

It took mere seconds for me to be the center of attention, standing framed in the giant doorway, the servant-noble having vanished down the hall.

“Ah! Here our honored guest arrives!” The Duke exclaimed, standing. “Behold the beauty of the champion Aria!” He let me stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do, while the men in the room drunkenly cheered, raising their wine glasses, before he beckoned to me. “Come here girl, and let me see you.”

I walked forward as the guards moved the table in front of the throne to the side allowing a clear path to the Duke. As I approached, I began to see why he was rich and why everyone followed him. He was an imposing man, large and easily 6’4”, but had little fat on his body. The silken shirt he wore was so clean it was practically new, but was tight enough to show off his sculpted chest and abs. I hesitated for some reason at that thought, an odd sensation of wrongness flickering uneasily in my chest, but he just waved me forward again smiling the most wonderful smile I’d ever seen and speaking in this deep voice that seemed to fill me.

“Come here Aria.”

He was simply too wonderful to resist. I moved forward, thoughts about the man filling my head. I wanted to do whatever he wanted me to do. I wanted his touch. I wanted to be near him. The noise and voices all faded out as I approached, his hands reaching out to touch me. I pushed myself into them, allowing his caress to sweep down my sides, missing my knives, then back up the same route to my chest. It felt so good; I wanted more, pressing closer to him, smelling his scent. I wanted to worship him. He slid one of the straps of my bra off first, pulling the dress down enough to partially expose me. Pleasure jolted through me, a heat spreading throughout my body at his touch. My hands came up, shaking violently, and tried to remove the other strap, to get all of the suddenly stuffy clothes off of me.

“Stop moving.”

The simple command jolted through me, and I stopped trying to do anything. There were voices in the background, all making lewd suggestions, but I ignored them. The only thing that mattered was in front of me.

He took out a whip from behind the throne and swished it through the air. A cat o’ nine tails, it had sharp metal pieces attached to the ends of the nine lengths of leather that extended from the handle. The man laughed, and struck me with it again and again, the metal leaving small scratches across my skin, but not damaging the dress whatsoever. Even his strongest swings could barely penetrate my skin. It didn’t matter; if he smiled I was happy.

Some of the men in the background yelled. “Take her already so we can have our turn!”

“Kneel.”

My knees gave out, and I dropped to the ground in front of him. He began unbuckling his belt, stepping back because I was so close. I wanted him, more than anything I wanted him, but he told me to stop moving, so I couldn’t have him.

“Look at this Barsath, a champion, eagerly waiting to fuck me.” I heard dimly, the words not totally clear because it had nothing to do with him wanting me to do something.

“Yes my Lord, surely you are the best leader in all of Ilos to have even champions kneel to do your bidding.” A voice spoke from behind the god in front of me.

He leaned over to pull down his pants, and behind him there was a man dressed in fancy robes. Another jolt ran through me, this one of fear. Mage! Spirit Barrier, Suressi!

There was a resistance, and then I felt something sever. The Stillness washed over me.

And everything changed.

Gone was the captivating and imposing god, replaced by an older man that had not aged well, his hair unkempt and grey, and his gut sagging enough to almost cover his manhood. The clothes he wore were stained heavily with wine and food. The throne behind him was a simple wooden chair, and he smelled of rotten things and a body much too long unwashed.

The mage Barsath’s eyes widened as I leapt backwards, the force of my legs carrying me a good twenty yards backwards, halfway to the entrance, and I scanned everything as I passed through the air. The men at the tables were eating bread and drinking water, and everything had reverted to bare stone. Gone were the glorious tapestries and the golden candlesticks, replaced by a pitted stone floor and walls with beautiful women chained along the sides. All of them were naked, cut, and bruised, yet still staring at the Duke with rapturous eyes. Everything was of poor quality, about to fall apart, yet none of the men seemed to notice.

I landed silently, fixing my bra and dress and then opening my inventory to retrieve my quarterstaff and long knives. There was still a strong pressure against my Spirit Barrier, a spell that blocked spirit magic from affecting the mind, and it was draining my mana at a slow but steady rate. My Spell Gem filled with ci swayed and the bands of Light and Shadow on my wrists vanished as I closed my inventory, my quarterstaff in its holder on my back and my long knives in my hands.

The Duke was just returning to a standing position, his eyes tracking from where I had been to where I was now, the mage by his side still reeling from my sudden movement, the men at the tables turning to look at me, noticing there was something going on.

Things were suddenly clear.

Bort’s words. ‘I’m having a lot of trouble holding her, and I don’t think she even knows what’s going on.’

The warm, relaxing atmosphere once I stepped through the gate.

The reason I’d not seen a single woman in the city until now.

The bidding for the right to own me.

The gold crown, likely an illusion like everything else.

The rush to the palace where the Spirit spell was stronger.

The hot bath to relax me and make me more susceptible and have me smell nice for the Duke.

My sudden blind acceptance of my body and situation.

The clothes to make me as pleasant to look at as possible for the men.

The throne room where the mage could enter from behind the chair and work his spell over me and likely the other women in the room.

The men calling for the Duke to take me so they could have their turn.

My jaw clenched. The feelings that had swept through me mere moments ago were still fresh in my mind. A blazing fire of rage burned through me, filtering through the Stillness until it was cold as the grave.

My gaze met with Barsath. The man who mindfucked me. And I saw it in his eyes that he knew.

Every man in this room was dead.

Every man that tried to stop me was dead.

Every man that owned a woman in this city was dead.

But above burning this city to the ground, above destroying whatever could make this Spirit spell so powerful, I would make sure Barsath’s body would end lying in a pool of his own blood.

 

-----

 

“Look at this Barsath, a champion, eagerly waiting to fuck me.”

Barsath sighed to himself. Mardus Travant, or the Duke as he demanded everyone call him, was an idiot. The man was completely unfit to rule in any form or fashion, caring only about his food, his drink, and his women, frittering away the treasury until they’d had to sell most of the things in the palace to keep up with the expenditures. Unfortunately, positions of power did not change so easily that he could simply take over, nor could he take the Duke’s appearance and rule that way. It was too well-known that the man was lazy and would avoid any and all work not forced upon him by his equally well-known main aid and advisor Barsath to suddenly have either change too quickly. Barsath ruled the city of Travant in all but name anyway, taking care of all of the business, all of the coin, and more importantly, all of the Spirit magic covering the city.

His own perceptions were the only ones unaffected by the spells produced by the earthen tower that loomed behind the palace, a gift from a mysterious man with dark red skin who appeared suddenly and raised the thing out of the ground. Most of the spells were innocuous, unnoticed by the populace of the city, yet very useful. Not a single real coin had come out of the palace since the tower had been built, only bits of metal that anyone in the city saw as the real thing, another spell making sure they spent or accidentally ‘forgot’ the bits in the city. The most noticeable spell was known and liked by most of the men in the city, the one that made women almost completely suggestable.

Barsath was a mage, more specifically a Spirit mage. Spirit elemental magic was almost entirely devoted to the mind, modifying and reading perceptions, emotions, desires, and even thoughts, something that Barsath found utterly fascinating. Being able to own a person so completely excited him in ways nothing else could, and now that power was controlling the Duke’s newest acquisition, one of the fabled champions.

Somehow word had spread of the champions long before anyone in the city had ever seen one, stories of beings with supreme prowess and potential that held immortality. It was said that among champions women were much less likely to appear, but those that did had unearthly beauty that could put any Ilosian woman to shame. Barsath craved one of these women, but had decided to let the Duke be the front in case champions were not so easily controlled by his spells.

The girl that the Duke was speaking of, Aria by name, certainly fit the description of champion women, yet showed no sign that she was resisting the magic on her. Barsath had wanted to get to the girl first so he could test some spells from a distance, but learned that the Duke had already sent a messenger to purchase her before he could do anything. He hadn’t believed the part about the beauty of champions, so he took a look for himself when she’d arrived.

She was small, much smaller than he imagined as well as younger, yet her beauty eclipsed anything he’d ever seen. There was not a single blemish on her skin, and her body was constructed just right to be pleasing to the eye. There was an innocence about her that he ached to shatter, and that drew him even more. He even placed one of the sets of clothing the red-skinned man had left him in her room, eager to see the results.

The clothing was some construction of magic, and after testing a few sets on some of the Dukes personal whores, he’d learned a few things. The cloth was formless until the entire set was put on, then it changed magically to complement the owner and fit their own personality to some extent. It was impossible to rip or tear by any means he could acquire, but unfortunately would not change so drastically once set the first time, so he made sure to use them sparingly.

He’d gotten a look at her as she exited the changing room to go see the Duke, and had decided right then and there that he simply had to have her for himself, regardless of if the Duke had had her first. Being forced to watch the Duke use his prize was not something that appealed to him however, so he’d been sitting behind the wooden chair the Duke thought was a grand throne. Maintaining the spells on the champion girl as well as on the numerous other women that were chained to the walls in the hall wasn’t all that difficult with the help of the tower, but he did have to be there to use the stronger version, otherwise he’d be relaxing in his rooms right then, or perhaps plotting how to steal Aria away from the stupid ‘ruler’.

Standing, he moved to the side to respond to the man, forcing his voice to be as ingratiating as he could, not that that was very much. “Yes my Lord, surely you are the best leader in all of Ilos to have even champions kneel to do your bidding.”

The Duke already had his belt unbuckled, cutting short his customary whipping and beating he usually subjugated his new possessions to, and when he leaned down Barsath got a look at the girl over the back of the Duke’s disgusting shirt. That beautiful black dress and bra were off one shoulder and pulled down to expose the girl’s chest. Aria’s eyes seemed to be made of gold, the darkness of her hair and clothing setting off the interesting color. Her perfect face was formed into a worshiping expression that all the women had when he increased the power of the spells on them, and her eyes were dull as they looked over the Duke and met his. He could feel the emptiness in her head, the almost complete lack of any emotion but a sense of devotion.

Then her eyes widened, a sudden fear shining deep within her mind, and the dullness in her eyes vanished, replaced by a piercing clarity. Barsath felt his own eyes widen as his connection to her mind was severed and a kick from her legs sent her flying backwards off the dais and high into the air. She broke the spell?! HOW?

He could barely follow her path as she sailed down the room, landing silently in a crouch about halfway to the main entrance. Her hands fixed her bra and dress, then made a motion and drew out a quarterstaff and a pair of long knives from a glowing square that appeared in front of her and vanished as she made another motion. The wooden staff was secured somehow on her back, one end slanting over her shoulder, and she grasped the long knives tightly, the knuckles on her hands going white from the pressure. The men at the tables as well as the Duke were just turning to find her suddenly in the middle of the room, unable to follow her flight in their ‘wine’ induced haze.

Aria’s eyes met his as she looked up, and the temperature in the room seemed to plummet. He flinched from that gaze filled with icy blazing rage, but couldn’t drop his eyes. She was tiny, her head barely at his chest, and she was even wearing a dress, yet he felt as if he was staring into the darkness of the Abyss itself. There was destruction in those eyes, a light that would consume everything in the city starting with that very room, but above all it was a destruction meant for him.

And then light did consume everything. An image crafted in white light burned into his eyes, the outline of the girl before him if that girl had wings growing from her back, spread out as far as they would go. Before he could even finish flinching from the sudden blast of light, everything went dark.

The panic was immediate, thinking she’d blinded him somehow, but then he caught the tiny crack of light from the door at the end of the hall. There were no windows in the room, it was completely reliant on candles and torches for light, and she had extinguished all of them. His eyes, still reeling from the flash of light, reported nothing but darkness from the room in front of him, and fear leapt into his throat.

Aria was coming for him. He’d twisted her mind, forcing her to want the Duke with all of her being, but she’d broken the spell, and now she was coming.

It was then that the screaming started. Men yelled and screamed and pleaded in terror as the sounds of blood hitting the floor and men gurgling their death rattles filled the room. One of the two guards near the Duke drew his sword, the rasp of metal on metal as his sword cleared the sheath followed closely by a liquid splurting sound and the sword clanging as it hit the ground, the man's metallic armor sparking off the stone floor as he too fell.

Barsath’s legs moved on their own, carrying him backwards to the small door behind the Duke where he scrambled to find the iron handle. Metal boots clanked up next to him, the other guard, there to protect him, but the tiny sense of relief was burned away by horror as he felt a warm liquid splash over him and heard the man hit the ground with a wet thud.

His hands found the ring on the door and pulled, casting light once again over everything. The dark silhouette of the winged girl crouched before him there, and he flinched back with a shout until he realized it was just the afterimage of the blinding light still burned into his eyes. The Duke’s high tinny scream suddenly cut off into a bloody gurgle, and Barsath fled, desperately yelling at the top of his lungs. “Guards! Guards! The palace is under attack!”

His voice echoed down the hallways, and was rewarded with the sound of shouting voices raising the alarm and armored footsteps pounding towards him. He ran towards the sound. She’s coming! Oh Xynus she’s coming!

The seven guards slowed to a halt as they rounded the corner and met him, their faces hardening as they saw the blood that covered his robes on one side. The one in front addressed him. “Barsath! What’s happening? Where’s the Duke?”

His breath coming in gasps, Barsath tried to answer. “A champion- the feast room- killing everyone- the Duke- is dead!”

“What does he look like?” The guard gripped Barsath’s shoulders, straightening him from where he was leaning over when he didn’t answer immediately. “Get ahold of yourself! What does he look like? What weapons is he using?”

Barsath gulped, forcing his body to stop breathing in quick panicked gasps. “She’s small and young, about this high, with long black hair and wearing a black dress and boots.” He gestured with his hand at the middle part of his torso. “I saw her with a quarterstaff and two long knives. Please you have to stop her! She’s going to kill me!”

The man frowned at him, but then his eyes widened as he looked back down the hallway. Barsath twisted in the guard’s grip to see and tried to scream, the noise coming out in a squeak as his throat clenched.

At the end of the long hallway stood Aria, likely having just exited the feast room, the long knives in either hand dripping blood onto the tile. Her arms were covered in the dark liquid, and spots of it were scattered across the rest of her body. She was too far away to tell, but he could feel those golden eyes burning into him, ripping apart his nerves as if they were mere threads.

The long knives spun in her hands too quickly to follow, spraying blood across the floor and walls in two long lines of drops crossing behind her. The weapons slid silently into their sheaths at the small of her back as the guard thrust Barsath behind him and drew his sword, knocking the weak-kneed mage to the floor. The other guards followed his example, unlimbering their weapons as Aria darted towards them.

The hallway that took Barsath a good half-minute to run down she covered in seconds. Her hands flashed and a pair of gleaming knives drew paths to the eye sockets of two of the guards just before she reached the group. The length of wood that was suddenly in her hands blurred as she ducked under the lead guard’s swing and drove one end into the man’s throat. The sickening ‘crunch’ sound of a windpipe being crushed put energy back into Barsath’s legs as he scrambled to his feet and fled, pursued by yelling and the screams of dying men. Another group of guards, nine this time, thundered past him towards the noise, but he knew that they wouldn’t last against that creature.

There were no promises to kill him that came from the girl’s mouth as he ran away, no threats, no sound at all. There was no need. The memory of her eyes, those golden glaring eyes, was enough. Aria would come for him, and when she caught him, he would die.

A deep bell began to toll above him, the alarm that would summon the guards from throughout the city to the palace to defend it. Perhaps there was hope for him if enough guards came to hold her until he could escape the city, but he knew it to his bones that they couldn’t stop her. The tower. If I can reach the tower I can get the things I stashed there and get to my horse at the stables. No one ever went near what looked like a massive golden tower behind the castle, and it made the perfect place to keep valuable things. A large portion of the coin he’d taken from the Duke was there, along with several Gems of different types. With those he’d be able to escape and get to another city, someplace he could use the valuables to buy himself safety.

He lifted his robes to keep them out of the way and ran as fast as he could. His breath burned in his lungs, coming in gasps, but he refused to slow. Minutes passed as he sprinted down one hallway then another, taking the fastest route towards the back exit. The sounds of battle had faded behind him, gone or blotted out by the continued tolling of the bell above. Allowing himself a little hope, he rounded a corner and skidded to a halt, almost tripping over his own feet.

The quarterstaff sailed into the air above the trio of guards, a small figure clothed in black racing towards it. Blood spurted as she leapt, using her long knives to cut open the throats of two of the men before sheathing them and catching her staff as it fell just in time to deflect the third’s swing, disarm him, and end his life with a strike to the head.

Before the last man had even hit the ground she was charging towards Barsath, her quarterstaff once again holstered behind her, flicking an arm forward. A hand seized the back of his robes, yanking him backwards as the glint of a throwing knife streaked through where his head had been, clanging off the opposite wall. He stumbled backwards, barely catching his balance.

“Run Barsath, this is no place for you. I’ll take care of the little wench.”

The Commander of the Travant Palace Guard, Fargus Merid, stared out of his plate helmet, his second-in-command watching from next to him with a smug little smile. Both were wearing full plate armor, the Duke’s symbol, a crow, inlayed in the center of the chest piece with gold. There were another ten or so guards there as well, all with crossbows as well as swords, their faces full of confidence with their strongest warrior and leader there.

The Commander and his subordinate turned to face the corner just before Aria came around it, her quick steps still completely silent as she darted towards the squad.

“Fire!”

The noise of crossbow bolts punching towards the girl filled the air with their whistling cries. Without any hint of surprise or hesitation marring her features, her dash turned into a dive, skirting under the cluster of crossbow bolts before turning her movement into a handspring and booting Fargus in the chest. A heavy dent appeared in his armor as he stumbled backwards, Aria using the rebound to twist in midair, another pair of knives finding two of the crossbowmen before she landed softly, long blades now in hand, and charged past the Commander.

Barsath had retreated a good distance behind the line of guards, and while he couldn’t make his legs work past backing away slowly, his mind was no longer so encumbered. Champions were said to be very powerful, but this was something else. Aria was strong and incredibly fast, but the way she fought was so far beyond the skill of the guardsmen that they didn’t stand a chance. Watching her again though, he noticed some things. She was attacking with a specific strategy this time, dancing around the guards to avoid engaging the Commander or his second. It seemed as though she was avoiding her more heavily armored opponents while she dealt with the weaker ones. More importantly, she wasn’t using magic at all, even when it would give her an even greater advantage, which didn’t seem like it was something she would hesitate to do. From his observations of her fighting, she used every advantage at her disposal, striking at weak points and hitting the guards where it would disable them, keeping them as off balance as possible and attacking constantly, not allowing the men to regroup. Surely flashes of light in the eyes of her opponents would serve to take them out of the fight long enough to make her work easier, yet she still had not used magic.

Barsath finally managed to get his legs to work, turning and running toward the tower once again while Commander Fargus kept Aria busy. The man would die in the end, but he’d served his purpose of restarting Barsath’s mind, so it was no great loss. She must be using sures to defend herself, and maintaining that shielding against the power of the Spirit magic trying to bring her down must be placing a huge strain on her vis. If I can defend the tower or distract the girl for long enough, I should be able to bring her back under my control.

A few minutes later, Barsath stumbled out of the doorway behind the palace clutching his chest, his lungs and legs burning from his fear driven flight, and he slowed to catch his breath. There were not even seconds to spare and he needed to prepare things, but he also needed to be able to speak clearly. The earthen tower stood tall in front of him, the very top sparking with the massive Gem that was the source of its power, and therefore his own power. The bell behind him was still tolling, and the reinforcements from the guards that manned the walls would be set to arrive soon, but he would need to direct them behind the palace. He spotted a pair of servants, gardeners perhaps, cowering behind some bushes and seized them, dragging the men to their feet and bringing them under his control.

“Su’is.”

The men’s eyes glazed over and that delicious worshipful expression occupied their faces, their perceptions altered with the tower’s power so that they would do whatever Barsath needed them to.

He looked at the man on the right. “Go get me two horses, saddle them, and bring them here as fast as you possibly can. If anyone stops you tell them Barsath sent you himself.”

The servant nodded vigorously until Barsath released him, then took off at a dead sprint towards the stables. He’d run at that speed regardless of the pain or damage his body took until he’d fulfilled his task.

“You. Go to the front of the palace and find the guards that came from the wall. Tell them Barsath sent you as a messenger and that they should come to the tower.”

“Yes my Lord.”

Releasing the man and putting him out of mind, Barsath walked quickly over to the earthen tower that dominated the area, crouching down to stuff the various valuables lying there on the ground into a pack he had kept nearby. There was little to push in, and the pack was not too heavy when he finished, but the value of the items inside far exceeded the coin that remained in the rest of the city combined.

Barsath, being a Spirit mage, didn’t know many of the other words of power, and had only trained to use Fire when he was first learning magic. He could use that and possibly hurt her, but the tower only provided additional power to Spirit spells. He’d have to rely on his specialty. Even someone as strong as that girl must be low on magical energy by this point, and if she runs out she’s mine. All I have to do is delay her, but how?

Standing by the tower made of compressed earth with backpack of valuables in hand, Barsath pondered this dilemma until the noise of horses drew him from his thoughts. Just as he had commanded, the servant had brought two horses, both saddled and ready to ride, and was running beside them, his tunic drenched in sweat. Good, now to dispose of the trash and I’ll be ready to flee.

He addressed the man kneeling before him. “Well done, now go tie those to that post and then kill yours- ah!” That’s it! Aria doesn’t hesitate to kill soldiers, but what about innocent servants? Champions are supposed to protect Ilos right? In that case she would have trouble attacking an unarmed man who has nothing to do with her. Maybe they can delay her long enough for her magical energy to run out!

“Go find as many servants as you can within one minute and return here.”

The man dashed off once again, returning exactly one minute later with another five in tow, all wearing the same gardener’s outfit. “Su’is.” Barsath hit them all with his magic, their expressions of confusion and fear vanishing.

“You four, when you see a short girl with long black hair and wearing a black dress, go tackle her. You other two, when the same girl comes, keep your bodies in between her and me and do not let her pass you.”

“Of course my Lord, whatever you desire!” The lead servant exclaimed from his kneeling position, having been under the spell for the longest.

The look on the man’s face was so pathetically worshiping that Barsath couldn’t help but pat him on the head. After all, he was no more than a dog, so it was only right.

He didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later a guard in full armor stumbled out of the doorway, clutching at where blood spurted from his ruined throat. Aria followed him, leaping his falling body and sprinting towards Barsath without the slightest pause. However, while her gait was somehow even quicker than before, her movements not nearly as sharp as they had been. She was running out of vis to keep her shielding spell up, and it looked like she had weakened it to try to last longer. The four gardeners ran towards her, arms spread to catch her and bear her to the ground. Her eyebrows flicked down for just a moment in a concerned expression, and Barsath smiled. I’ve got you now you little bitch! You’d have to go right through them to get to me in time, and any sort of non-lethal measure won’t do it. They are so devoted to me right now that they’ll continue attacking you until their bodies give out entirely! You’re mi-

“I’m sorry.” The whispered words drifted on the wind, heard in the silence between tolls of the bell.

Blood coated the greenery as all four of the servants fell, throwing daggers buried in their throats, Aria dashing between two of the men and snatching her blades from their punctured windpipes, whipping them forward again.

Barsath stumbled backwards, fear once again clutching his chest. In front of him, the other two gardeners collapsed as well with lengths of metal buried in one of their eyes, the six men having failed to slow the champion a single step. Desperate, Barsath pushed everything he had into the spells trying to break through her shield, trying to erase himself from her sight as he tripped, hitting the ground on his back.

A throwing knife streaked through where his head had been just a moment ago, followed a split second later by Aria herself, her long knives held out as far out to the sides as possible as she flew through the air above him. She landed in a roll, coming to her feet in one smooth movement and twisting, those golden eyes scanning over him, but not stopping.

She can’t see me! Her shield is gone!

However, she didn’t stop moving, sheathing her blades and unlimbering her quarterstaff before approaching the tower. Barsath slowly climbed to his feet, smiling to himself. What was she going to do, attack the tower? Her stick would snap before-

Aria twisted, spinning a full turn and bringing around the staff with all of her might against the side of the tower. Dirt scattered everywhere, settling to reveal a good tenth of the tower base destroyed and the staff in perfect condition.

Barsath gasped. “Wha-!” What?! How?!

Aria’s head snapped to the side, her hand flicking out. Barsath flinched, and a throwing knife shot through where his throat had been, leaving a cut on the side of his neck. Had he not jerked just then…

How did she…? Sound! She heard me! Dirt showered everywhere again, and Barsath hurriedly concentrated, twisting her perceptions and emotions to take control of her like he had done before. “Now girl, I want you to-“

Her head twisted again.

CRACK.

-----

There was an earthy smell, his face pressed against something cool and soft. He was on the ground, in the… garden behind the palace. He opened his eyes, seeing the champion girl a good distance in front of him winding up to take another hit at the tower. What had…?

A sudden image came to him, Aria’s glaring golden eyes as she swept her quarterstaff through chest level where he’d been standing. The cracking sound and sense of impact on his arm, then darkness. How is she immune to my spells?! She cannot see me, but she could still attack even when I was manipulating her? That’s impossible, she should have been incapacitated in devotion! Dirt showered everywhere again. Never mind! I can’t let her destroy the tower! If she does then the spells it is holding, including the one that causes her to be unable to see me, will vanish!

If I can’t control you the usual way, then I’ll just have to make you unable to do anything! He concentrated again, using the last of his vis and whispering so she wouldn’t hear. “Su’is.”

Aria staggered, her eyes going wide as the spell he’d cast took effect, cutting off all of her external senses and making her feel like she was burning alive. This was something Barsath loved to do to some of the captives, just to see how long they’d last until begging for mercy. The longest so far was only about thirty seconds, but he expected the girl to easily surpass that. Regardless, the tower was safe now that she couldn’t determine where it was, and the pain would bring her to her knees soon enough.

He started to get up, and screamed as a searing pain blasted through his right arm, flopping back down to the ground. Tears streamed from his eyes as he gasped like a landed fish for a few seconds, recovering.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he sat up, making sure not to jostle his right arm that lay across his lap, groaning from the bruises that no doubt covered his body from the tumble he’d taken. Having made it safely if painfully to a position where he was leaning back on his left arm, he looked down to determine why his right was in so much pain, and screamed again.

His right arm was mangled beyond belief. The entire thing was covered with blood that leaked from the numerous places where bone stuck through the skin at odd angles. The flesh on his forearm where he’d taken the blow from the quarterstaff was split so badly that his wrist and hand were still connected by only a few strands of meat. There was only a little pain yet, but he knew that would come soon.

The sound of dirt hitting the bushes made him freeze. It wasn’t possible. There was no imaginable way she could still be moving.

Crack… Crack… Crack…

Barsath looked up.

Unable to see, hear, smell, taste, or even feel anything with her skin, Aria was somehow next to the tower again, twisting to deliver another massive blow against the hard packed dirt. The mage gaped. How in the Abyss is she still attacking?!

Eyes closed, the girl stepped to the side, bringing her quarterstaff around in front of her through the gap she’d made in the dirt until it hit another part of the base. Crack. Step, swing. Crack. Step, swing. Crack. Resetting herself, she spun, bringing her weapon around to blow away another portion of earth. She’s using the feedback she feels in her body to measure where she is against the tower?! I can’t stop that sensation! Another one or two of those attacks will bring down the whole structure! Is there anything I can do to stop her? I need something! Anything!

Crack.

Boots pounded on the paved garden pathway, and Barsath turned his head to see the most beautiful sight he’d ever encountered. Nagaden, the Commander of the South Wall appeared from around the corner with his two strongest men on their horses, pulling up in front of him and hurriedly dismounting.

Crack.

“Barsath! Wha- Xynus, your arm! What happened?!” The Commander exclaimed, taking a strip of cloth from his belt and hurriedly binding Barsath’s upper arm to slow the bleeding before shoving a potion in his mouth.

Crack.

Rather than try to spit it out, Barsath hurriedly gulped the contents to free his mouth. “The girl you idiot! Stop her! Hurry!”

Nagaden hesitated, obviously unsure about attacking a little girl.

Aria twisted, and dirt flew everywhere again. The tower shuddered, Barsath holding his breath as the top swayed, then releasing it in a sigh of relief as it stabilized. One more strike and its going to fall, along with all of my Spirit spells.

“She’s the one who killed the Duke, Nagaden! She’s blinded, so go cut her down!”

The Commander sighed. “Not worth my time. Saefan, go kill the girl. Her eyes can stay shut forever.

Crack.

“With pleasure, Commander.” One of the men standing with Nagaden saluted, then walked towards the tiny champion, unsheathing his sword.

Crack.

The girl stepped to the side, drawing her quarterstaff back to hit the tower again, but Saefan grabbed it, pulling his sword back to stab her. “Time to die girlie.”

“No you fool, don’t touch-!” Barsath shouted, too late to do anything but watch.

Aria twisted, what should have been a thrust through her chest turning into glancing blow unable to cut the skin under her dress, leaving her without a scratch. Continuing her spinning motion, she yanked her staff from the guard’s grip and performed the same full powered strike she’d been using against the tower.

The man exploded, his armor crushed so far one side almost touched the other, and his insides, having nowhere else to go, fountained out of every gap in the metal plate as he flew through the air to impact the side of the palace, leaving a bloody mark as the mangled body bounced off the stone.

Barsath turned his head, the contents of his stomach narrowly avoiding his body, and he could hear similar choking sounds from the two men with him.

Rather than go after the tower again, Aria began to spin her quarterstaff with increasing speed in complex patterns around her, moving as though she was in a dance, her closed eyes and peaceful expression contrasting with the blood that liberally coated her skin and weapon.

“Dida't!" Nagaden swore. "With me Grun! Attack with everything you have!”

The two men rushed forward, swords drawn, and separated, attacking the champion girl from both sides. Grun struck first, sweeping his sword in an arc that was obviously meant to stop or at least slow the thrumming quarterstaff so Nagaden would have an opening to deliver the killing blow.

The hasty plan worked, slowing the quarterstaff as the wood and metal collided, but rather than being cut down from the Commander’s overhead slash, she flowed to the side, snapping her staff against Grun’s wrists, disarming him, his gut, denting the armor and forcefully bending him over, and his head, crushing his helm and part of his skull. The man staggered backwards, clutching at his ruined face and the deep red streams that poured out of it, managing four steps before he fell, drowning in his own blood.

Nagaden roared, moving with a speed and skill that befitted his title of strongest in Travant and putting Aria on the defensive for the first time. His longsword flashed in the light from the overhead sun as he struck again and again, always being turned away just before cutting flesh while Aria retreated in a slow outwards spiral.

Barsath could only stare wide eyed at the duel before him, unable to clearly follow all of the strikes the Commander made. He’d seen Nagaden fight before of course, training the other guards that watched the walls and the palace, but never had he seen the man attack with his full strength. The pair moved as though dancing together, an enchanting mix of power and grace born from long combat experience, and Barsath felt hope well up in his chest. Surely if anyone could defeat this champion it was Nagaden.

The mage gritted his teeth as the odd squirming sensation that was the sign of a potion working enveloped his right arm. The bone fragments began to pull themselves back into place, the flesh knitting itself together. The vial must have been from Nagaden’s personal stash, because Barsath had never seen a liquid powerful enough to heal this much damage so quickly. He unwound the tight cloth around his arm, letting the blood flow down into his healing limb.

Minutes passed, and slowly the duel before him began to shift. Aria’s backward steps came less and less often, then stopped altogether, her whirring quarterstaff intercepting the Commander’s strikes earlier and earlier. The man still struck with all of his considerable skill and might, but the champion girl was slowly recovering. The deadlock continued for almost a half-minute, and then Nagaden took a step back.

What is this creature?! How can she take on Nagaden without being able to sense him at all?! I need to escape while she’s still busy! Barsath slowly climbed to his feet, careful to not jostle his still-healing arm, and hesitantly made his way over to where his bag of valuables had been thrown. Nagaden was slowly being driven back now, his teeth gritted as sweat poured off his body. Gathering up the bag, Barsath walked over to where the horses were, still tied there from when the gardener had returned from the stables with them, and began untying the knots with his shaking left hand.

A shock ran through him as his spell was pushed away, just for the slightest fraction of a second, and his head whipped to the side almost of its own accord to watch the duel. Aria’s eyes were open now, those blazing golden irises glaring, but unfocused. She’d likely only been able to see a single image in the short time she’d negated the spell, but any advantage on her part couldn’t be good for the Commander. Indeed, Nagaden’s next slash whistled through the air as Aria moved around him, though he was still able to divert her strike at his head, if barely.

The pounding of armored boots came from around the side of the palace as Nagaden’s troops finally arrived, their march from the wall much slower than the Commander’s horse-assisted travel. The knots under Barsath’s hand came undone, and he mounted as the armored guards began filing into view, flinching as his spell was shoved away for a second time for that same fraction of a second.

The tiny portion of time was enough. Aria feinted at her opponent’s legs, pulling her quarterstaff in and avoiding Nagaden’s parry as she spun to the side, bringing her weapon around for a full powered blow. The Commander barely intercepted the attack with his own weapon, but his stance was so broken it sent him flying backwards… directly into the severely damaged base of the tower.

In a flash of clarity, Barsath understood. The first spell break was to see where she was in relation to the tower so she could position Nagaden in between herself and the structure, and the second was to give herself the edge needed to pull off the heavy attack with accuracy. The mage slammed his heels into the horse, his only thought to flee as the symbol of his power finally began to crumble. As soon as the fragile Gem at the top of the tower fell, all of the Spirit spells he’d set up across the city would vanish, and everything he had built would fall apart.

Excepting the women chained to the walls inside the palace, none of the slaves were ever bound simply because they were so obedient. As soon as the spells failed, all of those women would flee, and with the hundreds of men that once made up the guard almost completely wiped out, there was no one to stop them. He’d accepted that and could probably rebuild, he just had to get away from Aria. No one could stand up to her, she was simply too powerful for anyone in the city to handle, but if he could make it to Varan, less than a day’s ride to the north, he could buy safety with the coin in his pack.

Barsath rode roughshod through the arriving guardsmen, knocking them out of the way and possibly even trampling one, but that didn’t matter in the slightest. They existed to serve him anyway, so what did it matter if they lived?

He was almost around the corner when the sound of shattering glass reached him, the Gem atop the tower was gone. Immediately he felt heat against his back, a creeping sensation that had to be Aria’s baleful gaze. The horses seemed to feel it too and leapt forward, pushing through the sea of armored men and breaking out the other side. He let the animals carry him at a gallop around the palace and towards the streets, the sound of screaming drawing his attention as he reached the front.

A stream of women sporting broken chains were running from the palace in various states of undress, the ones kept in the feast room. Aria must have broken their bonds before she came after the rest of the palace, and now that the spells over them were broken they had left the dead Duke and were fleeing. A few noticed him and began running at him, leaping at his horses and trying to bring him down, fury etched into their faces. One managed to get onto his spare horse, and Barsath quickly cut the lead line, but not before the woman could grab his bag, yanking it from his grasp. With a force of will he resisted the urge to go back for it, leaving her behind him as he galloped through the streets.

Just as he had predicted, the city was in utter chaos. The bits of metal that people had seen as coins were now completely useless, and fights broke out everywhere even as the slaves fled from their former masters. It didn’t matter to Barsath, he simply rode down anyone that was between him and the gates leading out of the city to the north. No one stood in the path of a galloping horse, or if they did they were trampled underfoot.

The skeleton crew that still manned the gates were completely overwhelmed, and the massive sections of reinforced wood stood open as the mage rode through to the open grassland surrounding the city.

As the minutes passed and the sounds of the city faded, the fear that drove Barsath onwards began to dissipate. He allowed his blowing horse to slow, climbing up the side of the valley the city rested in, then dismounted and turned around to look back at Travant.

The city was burning, fires sweeping the buildings as the people rioted, their normal lives completely disrupted as the illusions that he’d set up vanished. He gritted his teeth, it was all because of that stupid champion, that demon in the form of a girl. Somehow she had singlehandedly destroyed his perfect system, ruining all of his work and almost killing him. “Well it takes more than just a little girl to kill Barsath Desray! Despite all your efforts I’m still alive you little bitch!” He shouted at the city, shaking his fully healed right arm. “You can’t kill me! I’m too good for you! Learn your place you wretch! You can go burn in the Abyss with your anger, because you can’t kill me!”

He felt an impact in his lower back. “Oh, I can’t?”

A sudden pain twisted Barsath’s guts, and he hesitantly looked down to see a blood covered length of steel sticking out of his stomach. The long knife withdrew slowly, taking the strength in his legs with it and letting him collapse, landing on his back in a spasm of pain as he tried to turn to face his worst fear.

Aria stood over him, one of her long knives dripping blood. The black dress she had on sported not a single cut, and even the blood was gone from her skin and the fabric. Her golden eyes burned into him, seeming almost to glow with her fury. This was not the cold flame he’d seen, but one that consumed everything before it, untempered by reason.

“N-no. P-please spare m-me!” Barsath whimpered, the smell of his own excrement suddenly filling his nose as he dragged himself backwards.

She stepped forwards slowly as he desperately tried to pull himself away, snarling down at him with unbridled hate. “You took that which was most important to me and twisted it. The only thing I had, the only part of myself that was still safe, and you decided to fuck with it. I’d lost everything, and you wanted to take all that I was, all that I had left, and you succeeded. Because of you I’ve lost to this place and this body, I can no longer think of myself as how I was. You stole all I had, and in return I took everything from you. Your city is crushing itself, your slaves are freed, your power is gone, and now you will die.”

Barsath shook his head, trying to deny this reality even as she raised her knife overhead. The tip of the blade slammed downwards, producing a lance of pain that drove through his eye and into his skull, lasting for only a moment before the mage ceased to exist.