Page 4 of Phixmery

A COOL CLOTH dabs against my face and I jolt awake, my body aching in pain—but not from my back, I realize with surprise. From the stiffness of laying in bed for so long.

An older female smiles softly at me, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s about time you woke up. The commander is getting impatient to make the journey back to Phixmery.”

I can’t help but blink as the fog from the infection-induced illness fades. Snippets of conversation float through my mind but I can’t tell what was a fever dream and what was real.

Before I can question the elder Elemi Fae, she assists me into a sitting position. Then with practiced ease, she slides a tunic over my head and pulls my arms through. With a shocked gasp I gingerly let my fingers glide over my back, and only the reminiscence of puckered silver scars lie there. It seems like she would have healed it all if she could, but iron will always scar, no matter what healing magick is used.

She hauls me to my feet unceremoniously as if I weigh nothing and chuckles, tucking a loose strand of silver hair behind her elongated ear as she peers slightly down at me in amusement. Her soft, billowy beige cotton dress clings to her frame, cinched with a thick leather belt that holds various herbs, trinkets and tonics. “Even as a fae female you’re a bit vertically challenged, aren’t you?” My eyes narrow on her but she just tuts and begins placing her things back in her weathered leather satchel. “Well come on then, before Commander Ashbluff decides that you aren’t worth the price of dealing with the cantankerous elders of Shalo.”

In shock at how kind the female has been towards me, I grab my well-worn cloak that’s still slightly damp and follow her out into the cool, snowy village.

Nero instantly flies out of the trees towards me, wings leveling out before back-flapping, and lands softly on my shoulder. He sometimes stays inside with me at night when the weather is particularly bad or when we need to be close to each other, but the village healer wouldn’t have known that. It’s not like she would have let him in anyway, and without me awake to let him out he wouldn’t be able to hunt or gather food for himself.

My gaze wanderers around my village and I barely recognize it. There’s a small caravan of soldiers camped out in the square, where my blood still stains the snow. “How long was I out?” I ask my feathered companion.

He chirps and begins trying to groom my hair, something he only does when he’s worried. “Three days total. The burly commander had a healer sent in via gryphon rider from Vinhas. I thought we were going to lose you.”

A gryphon rider is here in the village? I crane my neck around to see if I can get a glimpse of the magnificent beast, but it must be outside the village boundary because I can’t see it among all the huts that surround the square. Either that or he’s already left. I haven’t seen one since I was a child; although I can barely remember what they look like, I remember the descriptions. Giant feathered and furry creatures with strong, powerful bodies with the heads of birds. Their colouring can range from gold to as dark as Nero’s onyx feathers. The general feeling of awe sticks with me as we continue our short trek through Shalo.

“Is there anything else I should know?” I inquire and send him the vague feelings of my fever dream, waiting to see if he will confirm or deny if it all happened. Knowing Nero, he would have only left to scavenge, otherwise he would have been perched on that branch until I was either better, or I succumbed to the infection. So I can trust he will know.

Before he answers me, we halt next to an imposing male, his hair braided back and the leathers of the Damorleia Military donning his slim yet toned body. This must be the commander the healer mentioned… Ashbluff. His gaze runs over my body and it’s clear he finds me lacking. But when his eyes land on Nero, his gaze bounces to my hands searching for something, and when I tuck my scarred finger away his eyes widen slightly before turning on our village leader again.

He grabs the old male by the collar. “I thought you said this female was a null?”

Panic at being discovered, and so quickly, grips my throat and my gut turns to ice. I stumble towards the commander. “I am a null—I have no magick,” I state, hoping my voice doesn’t betray me.

The male in front of me whirls towards me with unfathomable speed. “Nulls don’t have familiars, Cadet. And you will only speak when spoken to. Do I make myself clear?”

My brows quickly furrow before I cover my expression with a mask of indifference, a mask I fight to put on to hopefully keep myself out of trouble. “Yes, Sir,” I whisper.Familiar? Is that what he is to me?

Cardon backs me up, thankfully—and I never thought I’d say that in my life. “She’s a weak, pathetic female. Not a lick of magick in her veins. And trust me, she’s had more than one opportunity to prove that.”

The recruiter scrubs his face in frustration and whispers something about the mountain villages being the equivalent of uneducated savages. “Familiars,” he points to Nero as if it’s obvious, “stay close to their fae. See the way he’s watching us? Trust me: she has power.”

The village leader sputters, his face turning a concerning shade of red. “Oh, that mangy old bird has been following her around since not long after she arrived here. It’s nothing but a scavenging pest, probably waiting to pick the flesh off her miserable bones. If it was a familiar bond, I would know. My astuteness is one of the reasons I am the village leader.” He puffs out his chest and turns his nose up at the idea that I would have a familiar of all people. “After all, fae getting familiars are practically unheard of nowadays, it’s become so rare. You arrog—” He coughs. “I mean privileged city-goers forget that with all those damned libraries and scrolls you have in the city...”

The Commander’s gaze narrows in anger but Cardon continues, ignoring him. “She’s lived here almost her whole life. She’s a null, and she isn’t going with the likes of you, military order or not. She’s owned by me—us.”

Ashbluff grabs my hands and searches them, so strong that I have no hope of stopping him even if I dared to. And when he finds the small silver crescent of my bond with Nero he spins on Cardon and his fist lands a blow across his face. “Don’t lie to me. The mark is right there on her finger for anyone to see! You will be hearing from my superiors about this. Don’t be surprised if you receive a summons from the Lord of Allondë about the torture of a fae female and lying to a commanding officer of the Damorleia Military. All punishable offenses, as you know.”

“B-but she’s a null,” he gasps, glancing between me and the rest of the villagers in denial. His gaze settles on me with a note of panic and then darkens in anger before he lunges for my throat, but he’s stopped by Ashbluff’s steady arm before he can make contact. “You lied to us? You scheming little cunt,” he rasps. “After all we’ve done for you.” His face becomes more of a purple hue as he sputters, “Begone, and never come back. May the fates curse you with a brutal and painful death,” he seethes.

As the commander turns away from Cardon, the village elder’s gaze flashes with malice, and grins at me in a way that makes fear lick up my spine.

My head shakes of its own accord. No, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. I was supposed to go on a hunting trip and then come back once they left. They can’t find out about my magick. Fuck. All the work we’ve done to keep me out of the watchful eye of Damorleia and my promise all might go up in flames if I can’t figure a way out of this.

Nero’s guilt charges through the bond but also a hint of excitement. He’s always been on board with showing them I’m not a null, with leaving this village and their abuse. But now everything is crumbling apart. The last orders my mother gave me… I’ve failed. Now the deaths of my family may mean nothing. All I can hope is that they don’t piece together my true identity too, and that they forget me after I somehow escape the Phixmery War Academy.

Commander Ashbluff turns his dark eyes on me next. “Cadet, why did you not declare your magick?” He tilts his head, peering at me like prey.

I straighten my shoulders and meet his gaze, even though I’m trembling with nerves for the unknown. “I thought I was a null. If I have magick, I don’t know how to access it,” I fib, keeping my voice steady.

He shakes his head, his lip pulling up as his face twists in disgust. “This village is full of liars, it seems. Get your belongings and get in the wagon. You have five minutes. We will break that rebellious spirit, Cadet, now that you’re being recruited to the Damorleia Military. Welcome to your new life.” His voice drips with animosity, and then he turns to yell instructions to break camp and that they’re leaving with three new recruits, the other two being one that despises me and one who could not care less. This will be fun. Not. I rush back to my hut, hoping no one follows, needing a moment of reprieve.

Horror continues to seep through me as I gather my meager items and clothing. Nero continues to try to comfort me through the bond, but all I can hear are my mother’s words, telling me to never come back. But now, it seems I have no choice.

CHAPTER THREE

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