Your Success Is Our Success
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The sun was rising when you arrived in the village of Vérella, just a short ride from your home. You were exhausted and filthy and very hungry after having spent two weeks on horseback, but it felt good to be back in the countryside again.
Your mother had given you an allowance for this trip, so now that you’d returned with your new books (and a fine collection of rocks), you decided to stop at the tavern for breakfast before going home. The innkeeper gave you a room upstairs—it was small and cramped but warm and dry, which would have been more than enough if he hadn’t also brought you breakfast up there.
You were used to eating in public places, but not usually when you were wearing nothing but a thin silk gown. You sat at the table, waiting for him to bring down some plates and bowls, wondering how you could politely tell him that his inn wasn’t very discreet.
When the door swung open and he stood there with the food, however, your thoughts froze. He was wearing breeches and boots as well as a simple tunic, but his shirt was missing its collar and his hair was tousled and mussed like he’d slept on it last night.
He grinned at you and set down your breakfast on the tray. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Did I wake you?”
“N-no.” You tried to cover yourself with both hands—the only things handy right now—but you couldn’t do much besides make yourself look ridiculous. Fortunately, you weren’t the one being stared at. You looked over to see that the entire room had turned to watch him walk over to the table.
It seemed everyone in town had heard about his appearance at the fair last week and wanted to get a closer look at what they’d missed. His eyes flicked to yours, then away almost immediately.
It was too late anyway: Your cheeks were flaming hot with embarrassment. But your stomach grumbled loudly, making you realize that even though you had come back to your room to dress, you hadn’t bothered with anything else except for a cloak.
Now that you were finally awake, it didn’t feel comfortable enough to eat naked in front of strangers. So you reached behind you, found your skirt where you’d put it on the table, and slid into it. Then, when the innkeeper had cleared the dishes from the table and taken them downstairs, you pushed the chair out and climbed off it.
When you turned around, he was already gone. As you started down the stairs toward the hall, several other patrons got up, ready to go down themselves, but someone’s voice made them pause and look back.
“Is it true? Did you see him?”
“What did he say?”
“How did you know him?”
You ignored their questions and went outside instead of trying to make conversation with the people milling about the entrance. It wouldn’t have done any good, since they knew nothing about the real world. All they saw was a man who was a little taller than average, dark-haired, and handsome.
They might have noticed that his eyes were green, that he walked differently from most people, or that he wore no jewelry. But the way he held himself, his posture, was all wrong.
But you knew better. You’d never seen a mage with such power, and it was clear enough that he didn’t belong here either. So you headed straight for your room, ignoring the looks you got.
As soon as you were inside, you locked the door and grabbed a clean tunic and trousers from your pack. Then, once you were dressed, you stepped through to the balcony overlooking the street below.
A quick glance showed you the innkeeper coming back up the stairs, still wearing your clothes—he must have changed while you were gone since they fit perfectly now and he had been loose on him—and carrying the wooden tray.
You waved down to him and shouted, “Thank you!”
He hesitated before he climbed back up. You thought perhaps he had recognized your voice, but then he smiled and yelled back, “No problem! Good luck today.”
“Yes. Thank you,” you called after him. When you were sure he was far enough away to be safe, you pulled down the shutters and locked the door.
That night, you fell asleep in the hayloft of the stable, curled up with your books and the rest of your supplies and a blanket for a pillow. You weren’t used to sleeping in such an uncomfortable position—especially so late in the day—but you were exhausted from running around town all morning.
Once you were lying there, however, your head hurt badly, making it impossible to sleep. You sighed and closed your eyes, hoping to drift off again soon …
… And suddenly your mind wasn’t on magic anymore.
The image you saw was vivid; you could see it as clearly as if you were really standing there. It took you a moment to realize that this wasn’t something you were seeing in your dreams, but that the scene was playing out around you. The sky above you was gray, not blue like usual.
Clouds had gathered to block out the sun, and everything was cold. The ground underneath you shuddered, threatening to split open at any second. And you were falling.
There was no sensation of movement, but you knew you were free-falling, hurtling toward some unseen bottom. You felt nothing—no pain or fear—you just saw the darkness ahead of you and tried to close your eyes to stop the view from getting worse, but then a hand caught yours and pulled.
Your breath left you in a gasp as you tumbled into empty space. You opened your eyes and realized you weren’t plummeting at all but floating. That was when you saw the figure standing beside you; she was a woman with hair as black as the night itself. She had a strange golden symbol inked on her forehead, and even though it seemed to shimmer with its own light, she had no other adornments.
She spoke to you quietly, so that only you could hear her. “Don’t worry, child. I will protect you from harm.”
And then she was gone.
***
For a moment, you couldn’t catch your breath. Then a scream tore itself out of you: “I want to go home!”
You jumped and turned, looking everywhere at once until you heard a faint chuckle. You found yourself staring at the figure sitting cross-legged in front of your window seat, reading a book in perfect silence.
The next thing you knew, he had stood up and crossed over to the bedside table and picked up one of the books that lay there. He looked it over carefully before slipping it under his robes. “It is time. Come.”
He turned and headed for the balcony, which was why you followed, although you had no idea what was going on. Your feet moved of their own accord, but you were aware of every step as you stumbled behind him.
The clouds were darker now, heavy with rain. Lightning flashed overhead in rapid succession as the wind whipped up, sending leaves and dirt flying. In the distance, thunder rumbled and a bolt of lightning hit somewhere nearby. The ground shook briefly, sending up great cracks that ran across the road to the inn and the house beyond.
When you reached the railings surrounding the balcony, you saw that there was an old wooden ladder leaning against them. A moment later, you found yourself climbing up and onto the roof.
Then you stopped dead.
This was where the man in black had disappeared last night, right before his face melted away and became nothing more than a swirling mist. The air was still thick with the stench of rotting flesh, and you felt a sudden urge to puke again.
Your stomach heaved violently as you stepped closer to the edge of the rooftop and stared down at the alley below. There was nothing but darkness, and a faint breeze made it seem even more ominous. But that was nothing compared to how you felt about what you saw.
“What am I doing?” you whispered. “Where am I supposed to be? What should I do?”
He was waiting for you on top of the building’s chimney stack. As you approached, his robe swirled, becoming transparent. The pale light that shone from his chest revealed that he didn’t have any skin underneath it at all. The light was so bright that you could barely look at him. And yet, somehow, the dark figure remained solid.
“Who are you?” you asked softly.
“Someone who has been watching you since the beginning,” he replied. His voice was deep and soothing, like a lullaby on a moonless night.
“But I don’t remember anything—”
His lips curled upward into a smile. “Do you feel afraid?”
That simple question broke through the fog and brought you back to yourself. “Yes…”
“Good. Fear is good.”
“Is it? Does that mean I’m safe here with you?”
“You are exactly where you need to be. Now come; we must hurry.”
As he led the way down from the rooftop and into the alleyway, you looked around in awe. It was a long street lined with old wooden houses. At first glance, they looked decrepit enough to make your teeth ache, but the buildings weren’t crumbling apart. No, it was something else you noticed: Each window was full of firelight.
A chill went through you. “Are they people inside those windows?”
“Many of them.”
You glanced quickly away, but it was too late.
“…I’ve got to go home…!”
He grabbed you by the wrist and yanked you forward, forcing you to look at him as you stumbled against his shoulder. “Don’t be afraid. We will find them soon enough.”
He was silent as he hurried down the alleyway, but when he pulled you around the corner you found a small courtyard with a single stone fountain in its center. A young woman sat on the low wall that surrounded it, smoking a pipe while she rocked back and forth. She looked up at you and smiled when she saw your face.
“Come here, girl,” she called gently. “You’re not afraid?”
She was older than you thought, maybe twenty years or so, and yet her beauty took your breath away. Her eyes were large and blue, and her skin was creamy and smooth. The red dress she wore fit perfectly and seemed to hug her curves without making them uncomfortable to look at. She reminded you of the kind of girls who would hang around your school, flirting with the guys and having fun, only this woman wasn’t laughing anymore. She had lost someone very precious to her.
The young woman was holding a baby wrapped tightly in her arms; the child looked just like her mother and screamed whenever anyone tried to put her down. The little girl’s hair was black like the rest of the family, but her face was much softer looking.
When she opened her mouth and started screeching louder than anything you’d ever heard, you understood why. You couldn’t stand the pain in your ears and turn away in disgust.
The baby fell silent suddenly and then began crying again. The mother threw down the pipe she was smoking and rushed toward the fountain to scoop the infant up.
“Wait! Don’t touch my baby!”
Her cry brought a dozen others from behind her, as well as several children who were playing on the other side of the square. One of the kids was missing a hand, and another was missing both hands.
They cried out when they saw their parents coming and started running toward the entrance of the alleyway as if they were trying to escape the pain. The mothers ran after them and snatched them up. The fathers grabbed handfuls of dirt instead and tossed it into the air, shouting as loud as they could. Some even began beating themselves.
“Stop!” said the young woman, hurrying over to the fountain. “Don’t hurt yourselves!”
The men kept screaming until their voices cracked. You felt sick. This was the most horrible thing you had ever seen, and you knew what was causing all the pain. That’s right—it was going to kill you, too.
When you looked at the father who was beating himself, his eyes were empty. He no longer remembered why he was doing it; the bloodlust had already taken him in a place where his mind didn’t exist anymore. But the pain was real and sharp, and when he stopped beating himself it was because he realized that nothing he did would bring his wife back.
It was too awful.
“Why are you doing this to us?!” the young woman shouted angrily at the families as they scattered across the courtyard. “Does God hate our children that much?”
Your vision blurred. “I’ll kill that son of a bitch…”
Then there was nothing but darkness.
The End