Prologue
Myfirstmemoryisfrom age four. While faint, I remember running barefoot in the frigid snow, with nothing but my mother’s pull guiding us to our unknown destination; the words she constantly repeated echoed in my head.
Mages are hated, Lena. We must never show who we really are.
For a child to hold in their magical abilities, it required significant strength and discipline. At four, I was neither, so it was no surprise that while passing through a small village, I tripped and used a protective barrier to keep myself from hitting the ground. I immediately knew my mistake, but with no time to lose, my mother grabbed my hand, and we ran. We were so poor, and my only shoes were so large they couldn’t stay on my feet as we bolted away.
A group of men from the village chased after us, and after what seemed like ages of sprinting through a frozen forest, we finally lost them. My mother grabbed me close, and I remember thinking I would get scolded, just like the other times I couldn’t hold back my powers.
But instead, she cried. She dropped to the ground and pulled me to her chest. My mother had always been strong, and I had never seen her so vulnerable. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…I didn’t mean to,” I whimpered as I tried to comfort her.
She sobbed so hard she struggled to find air, but eventually, she collected herself and wiped her face. “I know, sweet pea. I’m sorry for getting upset.” She stood up and brushed the snow off her pants. “I just want us to be somewhere safe and warm. Not on the run.” Tears began to fill her eyes once more. “You don’t deserve this…none of us do.”
Her embrace was offering the slightest bit of warmth.“Why do they want to hurt us?” I had asked with pure childhood innocence.
She smiled with a look in her eyes that I couldn’t comprehend until I was older. “People fear what they do not understand,” she answered.
Mages are hated, Lena.
And nothing rang truer. Being a Mage meant immediate banishment. Being a Mage meant any protective law did not apply. Being a Mage meant being seen and treated like a monster, even if you were only four years old.
I never forgot that day. I knew I had to be strong. I had to be disciplined. And so, I suppressed my magic as much as physically and mentally possible. Typically, magic doesn’t present until much older, but unfortunately for us, I was an exception. Although I didn’t have another slip-up after that day, I always feared that eventually, something would happen, and we would have to run, never finding a place to callhome.
It wasn’t until I was twelve years old that we found a more permanent residence. Like most territories in Tovagoth, the mighty kingdom of Otacia had an intense hatred for Mages, but its population of about ten thousand meant we could blend in. It was a place where we had no track record, and two copper-haired sorceresses would be hard to forget.
The kingdom was separated into three areas. The higher class lived elevated and tucked safely in the middle of the kingdom, called the Center. The folks in the middle class lived in the Inner Ring, also slightly elevated, while the lower class lived in the Outer Ring, which is where my mother was able to find a small cottage for us to stay in.
It was ruled by King Ulric La’Rune, a powerful, vicious man feared by most. He owed his popularity to the loyalty he had to his people and kingdom, and to his precise skills on the battleground. On the other hand, his wife, Queen Ryia, was adored by all. She was seen as a compassionate, loving woman. Even now, she sometimes graces the Outer Ring with her presence, stimulating the economy of many small businesses. Ulric never did bother to visit. Some would say their balance of brutality and kindness was what made the kingdom so successful.
As for their children, it was known they had a son, Prince Silas La’Rune, who they kept hidden away in their castle. As new villagers in Otacia, and lower class at that, we didn’t know the whole story of what happened to their only other child, their younger daughter, all those years ago. All we know is she was stolen from the castle as an infant and later found deceased in the Northern Woods.
Since that tragedy, the King and Queen swore to keep their elder son safe. They would not allow him to leave the castle walls until he turned eighteen, adequately trained and prepared to face any threat. No one besides castle staff or perhaps soldiers in training knew what he looked like. Mother wondered if the kingdom was genuinely defended if something so terrible could happen to the Princess of all people. But the kingdom has had no incidents since, and everyone was seemingly safe.
And I didn’t practice my magic. I shoved every instinct as deep in my core as I could.
Mages are hated, Lena.
And as long as that part of me was kept hidden, I would never feel at home, not in any kingdom, and certainly not in my body.
Chapter One
“Chamomile,milkthistle,sage,and a little bit of Epsom salt,” Mother said as she sprinkled the salt into the pot of water. “Lastly, some honey. It helps with the flavor and is known to help heal wounds.”
She slowly stirred the mixture in a small steel pot being heated on our wood-burning stove.
“So,thisreally helps heal people?“ I asked skeptically.
She smiled, swirling her hand as she enchanted her creation. “Well, with a little magic, it does.” The golden mist that sparkled and extended from her fingertips had me letting out a small gasp. Before I knew it, the mist faded. I looked away.
Of course, she enchants her elixirs.
I assumed as much, but Mother knew how badly the use of magic affected me. She never used it in front of me anymore.
“Lena,” she started. “I know you haven’t used magic in a very long time, but—”
“I know, Mother. But as I’ve told you countless times, I have no interest in learning,” I said with crossed arms. Since moving here, this was the first time I allowed her to show me how she makes anything besides bread or scones. She knew I didn’t wish to learn anything regarding magic, even something this small. In recent weeks, she has been not so subtly trying to get me to learn something, anything. I always declined until today.
“Lena, you are sixteen years old. You are more than capable of learning basic magic.”
