The Maiden of Moonfane Forge

*

Lily woke to the sound of Fae sloppily lapping water, her great horned head bowed over a still pond that reflected sharp sunlight painfully up into Lily’s eyes. The moment she opened them she had the sensation that she was falling. Her heart in her throat, she made a wild grab at Fae’s shaggy mane to steady herself. She was draped uncomfortably atop her panthegrunn, saddle horn digging painfully into her sternum. Fae grunted in response to the new motion atop her and shook herself.

Clumsily, Lily slid out of the saddle and sat down on the moist soil amidst reeds and cattails. She knew she had Slumbered. The Casting had been necessary, to protect herself and Fae from the wild cat. But how long had she been in the magical state that followed? She fathomed immediately that she had been draped over Fae the entire time. More alarming than how long she had been in Slumber was the question of how far the big panthegrunn had carried her in that time. Looking around, Lily saw no sign of the woodland path they had been following, only trees and reeds and the pond.

A great thirst overcame Lily as she looked at the water. Again, she experienced the feeling of waking from a Slumber of unknown duration, having had no one to watch over her during that vulnerable time. And again, she felt the extreme thirst and hunger, the privation of her clothes and body from not washing for days. She stank and was filthy, and her eyes felt gummy, and her mouth gritty. As if feeling sorry for herself wasn’t enough, she looked at Fae and realized that her beloved panthegrunn had had it no easier. Not only had she borne Lily’s weight for days, and been given neither food nor water, but she had been stuck wearing her saddle the entire time. Lily knew it had to be uncomfortable for her.

“Oh, Fae ... I’m so sorry,” she croaked, and immediately regretted speaking for how dry and rough her throat felt. Stiff and sore, she fumbled with the straps and buckles until she could let the saddle and saddlebags fall unceremoniously to the ground. Fae again shook herself and grunted, lashing her tail at finally being free of the annoying encumbrance.

Lily knew better than to taste pondwater, so she dug into a saddlebag to find her waterskin. As she gulped the stale water down, she clenched her eyes shut and reflected on her situation. There were countless things to consider: Where were she and Fae, and where was the road in relation? How much longer could her food and water supplies hold out if she were lost? How long could she keep pretending she had any business trying to follow Vetch, or do anything at to help Marigold were she to catch up with her abductors? As it stood, she couldn’t even use her rudimentary Barrier-Casting to keep herself safe, not when every time she used magic, she risked waking days later, even more starved and cold and lost.

As soon as she knew that thought, she knew she didn’t want to face it. Not any of it. Not now. She stoppered the waterskin and stood up. Her body felt battered, and suddenly she despised the feeling of the borrowed dress she wore chafing her skin with the dirt and dried sweat of days.

“Later. Everything, later,” she mumbled, dragging the dress up over her head and off. She bent to pull off her boots, then shed her underclothes. In doing so, she discovered she had started her month’s blood, too, while she had Slumbered, and that only added an additional degree to her physical misery. If she could just be clean, just for a single day, then maybe she could order her thoughts and decide how to get herself out of this predicament. Even her empty belly, twisted as it was with hunger, could wait until she was free of dirt and old sweat.

The wind through the woodlands was chill across her bare skin, but the sunlight felt good. While Fae wandered off to sniff at various plants for edibility, Lily knelt beside the pond and shoved her clothes into the water. She worked automatically, simply so she didn’t yet have to face questions she had no answers to. She soaked, scrubbed, and wrung out her clothes, then repeated the process—soaking, scrubbing, wringing. When the garments were as clean as she judged she could get them, she draped them over tall cattails to dry. Fae was nowhere to be seen now, but Lily trusted the panthegrunn to take care of herself. She would return when she had browsed enough to sate her hunger.

Now, it was Lily’s turn for a good scrubbing. She stepped tentatively through the reeds and waded into the water. The surface of the pond was warm from the sun shining down on it all day, by which Lily knew it had to be late afternoon, but underneath the surface, the water was cool enough to raise goose-pimples on her skin. Her toes squished in the soft mud of the pond’s bottom. She dipped her entire body under the water and came back up with a gasp, the breeze across her wet skin even more brisk. She didn’t care. Even without it being a warm bath in a proper tub, to simply be able to wash herself, her hair, her face, after so many days of going without was a pleasure. She delighted in combing the tangles out of her hair with her fingers, and getting the dirt out from underneath her nails. By the time she was done, she felt as if she’d scrubbed a solid layer of the surrounding forest off of her. It was remarkable how the simple act of washing oneself could leave one feeling so invigorated and refreshed.

Lily picked her way back through the prickly reeds and out of the pond, and only then realized she had nothing with which to dry herself.

“Ugh ... very wise, Lily girl,” she chastised herself. When would it sink in that she wasn’t at home in her cozy little house in Moonfane Forge, with all the comforts and amenities that were always just there? Every time she thought she’d won some small victory over the woods, and felt like she could survive on her own, something she’d not even considered slapped her across the face to remind her that she was out of her element and not as clever as she’d believed herself. She couldn’t even dry herself on Fae’s shaggy fur, for the great silly beast had still not returned.

So, Lily sat down on Fae’s saddlebags, cold and naked, to drip-dry. As she did, evening began to fall, clouds moved in to cover the sky, and the wind picked up, brushing coldly through her and hissing between the reeds and cattails. For reasons that she could not divine, the simple optimism that had infused her at being able to bathe fled, and she began to feel an overwhelming sadness. Pictures of her home back in Moonfane Forge, or how it had been, flooded her thoughts. On the heels of that, she recalled how it had appeared the last time she had seen it, as a pile of stinking black rubble. The feelings of hopelessness and sorrow that came over her were just like those she had felt when she had awoken from Slumber days after the raid on her town. She had wandered the streets bereft of sense, feeling only a crushing morass of loss and grief that seemed to press in on her from all sides. Was what she felt now similar, a strange side-effect of Slumber suffered after exerting herself with spells beyond her meager skill?

She sat like a statue, unable to even summon the energy to unpack food for herself, let alone start a fire to warm and dry herself. The sadness descended with the night and soon Lily was powerless to do anything but sit there, while visions of all the death and destruction she had seen shouldered their way into her mind. Her final memories of her home would be memories of charred wreckage and bloated animals in the streets and newly dug graves stretching row upon row. She remembered then the graves of her parents and brother. She remembered their final resting place, and how the new soil had smelled as the morning sunlight hit it, but she could not remember the last words she’d said to any of them while they yet lived. Had they laughed? Had she remembered to tell them she loved them? Or had it been some hasty, meaningless small talk before she’d rushed out their door? Tears were running down Lily’s cheeks now.

She shuddered and choked on a sob. It had become too dark to see and the strange magic she sensed in these woods felt like it was growing. Then she felt a flash of magic and everything became still. Lily’s world became still. Her parents and little brother, forever still.

“Mom ... Dad ... Matty ...” she cried, feeling like a little girl, lost and frightened and powerless. She dropped her head into her hands and bawled.

*

-17 years prior-

“Today is finally the day,” declared Marigold. The mage stood in the center of Lady Gilliana’s drawing room on the second floor of Black Crux Manor, a playful smile on her lightly creased face, hands behind her back, concealing something. “You have learned to perform the motions flawlessly, and in your concentration of thought, I feel your ability to cast magic is ready to find its focus at last. It is time. Today, you will cast your first Barrier.”

Dressed in a fine robe of white with gold embroidery, Lady Gilliana looked upon her teacher with an expression caught between eagerness and annoyance. “Now? Here?” she asked. “Three years I have waited—and studied, and practiced, and recited—to finally be allowed to cast a Barrier, and the time you choose to call me here for this is when I have only just stepped out of the bath? Mage-Matron, my hair is not even dry yet.”

Marigold canted her head and leveled a wry smile at her apprentice. “Young lady, it wasn’t me who chose the time. The time chooses the mage.”

Gilliana exhaled a breath through her nostrils, tipping her chin up and looking down past it at the shorter woman. Then, a soft laugh escaped her. “I thought you were going to make me wait until I began to have streaks of silver through my hair, like you do. Hair that, I remind you, is still damp, and it is chill in this large room.”

“Ah! You’re a smartass about that now, but just you wait, girl. Even the magnificent Lady Gilliana won’t have such uniformly jet-black hair when she is my age. Enjoy it while you can. Now, quit the bellyachin’ and come here. I have a gift for you.”

At the mention of this, the young noblewoman sighed and approached the table that Marigold stood before. Despite the display of annoyance, Marigold could see in her apprentice’s face and bearing that she was intrigued. Gilliana crossed her arms and waited.

Marigold waited a beat of her own, then revealed the simple wooden box she had held behind her back. She placed it on the table before her apprentice. “There. Open it.”

“What does this have to do with casting a Barrier?”

“Open it.”

“Very well.” Lady Gilliana placed her delicate fingers on the box’s lid and slid it open. She peered inside and immediately let out a little screech, stepping hastily back from the table and dropping the lid to the floor. Looking across the table at Marigold, hand on her breast, she said, “That is not funny, Mage-Matron!”

“Beg to differ, girl!” Marigold chortled. “The look on your face!” She waved her hand before her face, calming her laughter. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t think it’d give you such a fright.”

“I am in no mood for jests today, Mage-Matron. What a cruel thing to do!”

“It’s no jest. Now, come here. Come here. This is part of your training.” When Gilliana only stood still, silent and dubious, Marigold relented and softened her voice. “Come back to the table. Please, apprentice. It’s a harmless little praying mantis. You won’t even have to touch it.”

“It’s horrible. Where did you even find it? Don’t tell me someone is selling these in the markets.”

“Markets?” Marigold scoffed. “Perhaps somebody does, but no. I plucked this little one off the wall in the courtyard, where it was sunning itself. And it’s going to teach you to cast your first Barrier. So, come here ... a little closer, Gilliana. There. Now, d’you remember everything I’ve taught you? How to relax your entire body and let your mind do the lifting? Know the Barrier you wish to cast and then shape it with a small sweep of your hand.”

Gilliana nodded, never taking her eyes off the little green insect, while it sat perfectly still in the box. “I remember,” she said quietly. “I’ve felt I could do it for a long time, if you’d have only let me.”

“Today, I let you,” said Marigold simply. “You are to cast a Barrier here.” She motioned with her fingers across the center of the box. “Cast the Barrier in the center of the box so the mantis is trapped on one side.”

“That’s all?” said Gilliana, looking up at her teacher finally.

“You say ‘that’s all’, but this will take you some tries. Are you ready?

Lady Gilliana set her mouth and peered down into the box once more. She exhaled and nodded. “Yes. I’ve been ready.”

Marigold smiled, gray eyes glimmering with anticipation for her student. “Then cast the spell.”

Standing as still as the mantis she towered over, Gilliana settled into the physical relaxation and focus of mind Marigold had tutored her in for the past three years. Marigold watched as her student raised her arm, palm held up and outward. The Mage-Matron felt the magic build and then contract, thoughts becoming energy to be spent and directed. Gilliana drew her hand across the center of the box, then she exhaled as if from exertion and peered down. Nothing had happened.

“Not bad, not bad,” encouraged Marigold. “Try again.” Marigold had learned to choose her words of counsel carefully. There were days when words meant to teach or encourage sent Gilliana’s spirits spiraling downward, and others when they raised her fury to the point of throwing flower vases or tearing down the drapes from her windows. In this instance, she simply took a few breaths and raised her arm again. The young lady had been looking forward to this for three years. She was determined.

When she waved her hand over the box, this time the distinctive shimmering of gold appeared in the box, gradual and wavering, but unmistakable. The little green mantis fled to one corner of the box. A smile appeared on Gilliana’s face and her eyes widened at her own creation. Then, just as soon, the color dissipated and Gilliana staggered back almost as though a strong gust of wind had hit her. She breathed heavily and knit her brow.

“I felt it and then ... what happened? I feel lightheaded. Something went wrong.”

Kindly, Marigold said, “Perfectly normal, girl, perfectly normal. At first, it’s very easy to get distracted by your own spell forming and lose your concentration. It’s a matter of learnin’ to ignore what you’re making until the spell’s complete. You’ll get there.” She stooped to pick up the box’s lid from the floor. “That’s enough for today. That was a worthy effort; I’m very pleased with this. For now, take some rest and—”

“No. I can do it now.” Gilliana stepped close to the table again and raised her hand, her face set, almost challenging.

“Don’t overexert yourself,” Marigold cautioned. “If you get too emotional or attempt too much ...”

The look Lady Gilliana shot her was one from the noblewoman of the manor, not the apprentice Barrier-Caster. Marigold held her tongue. She knew this wouldn’t work, attempting a Casting when worked up as Gilliana was now, but there was only one way for an apprentice to learn that lesson, and that was to let her attempt it one more time.

Magic infused the space around them even before Gilliana, for a third time, calmed her body and held her hand over the box. Marigold kept the surprise off her face, but knew a moment of intrigue as, again, a sparkling of gold characterized the air within the box. She felt the magic slim itself into a dagger’s point from her apprentice’s thoughts. Then, with a slow sweep of her hand, Gilliana drew the Barrier into the box, neatly dividing its center. She staggered back again, breathing as if she’d been running. Marigold looked into the box. The little gold wall shimmered like satin billowing in the sun.

“Extraordinary,” she whispered. “To succeed on the first day ...” She poked her finger into the box and nudged the little praying mantis, watching as it skittered against the Barrier in its haste to flee. She left the insect be and looked up to receive a triumphant smile from her apprentice.

Then, “Diann!” Gilliana called, even as she swayed on her feet. One of her maidservants entered the drawing room in short order with a “Yes, my lady?” Gilliana indicated the box with her hand. “The box on the table, with the insect in it? Take it outside and dispatch the thing.”

“Take it outside, but let it go,” Marigold amended. She waved her hand over the box and dispelled the Barrier. As the girl took the box away, Marigold walked around the table, hands clasped behind her back. “Gilliana, you’d do well to get yourself a pet of some kind—learn to care for a creature—a small dog, or a cat or bird. One day, maybe you could have a companion charge-beast. If we’re fortunate enough to find and acquire one for you.”

Her apprentice didn’t answer. Gilliana had wandered to a window and was staring out of it.

“A first spell is one to be proud of,” Marigold added. “You truly are a mage now, and you better believe we’ll celebrate when you wake from Slumber. After that, the real work begins.” Again, no response from Gilliana. “How do you feel?” Marigold tried.

Softly, Gilliana spoke to the window. “Light ... and accomplished. I will Slumber now?” she asked, turning back to her teacher.

Marigold nodded. “Yes. I suspect you can feel it already. It’s all taken care of. I will be there to watch over and attend you as you Slumber, and I will be there when you wake. I will also make certain your hair is dry,” she added, chuckling. “Doesn’t do to go to bed with wet hair, does it?” Still, Gilliana seemed to only half hear what was being said to her. Marigold knew that the effects from casting magic could be different from mage to mage, particularly when casting a spell for the first time, so she thought nothing of it as she crossed the room and took her apprentice by the arm to lead her to the bed that had been specially prepared for Slumbering, in a spare room off the bedchamber she normally shared with her husband. “And when you wake, probably in a day or two, you can think about what mage’s name you would like to take for yourself now that you can cast magic.” Marigold spoke assuming that her apprentice was beyond hearing her—the girl appeared as if she were in a trance. But as they crossed the drawing room, Gilliana reached out to let her fingers trail delicately across a purple flower held in a vase near the door.

“I already chose one,” she said, in a voice distant and dreamlike. “Iris.”