Page 5 of Stolen Magic

The insignia’s every detail was etched into my memory, a symbol of my hatred and sorrow. I hadn’t witnessed Mother’s death directly, but the sight of the royal flag had been enough to know who was responsible. Despite the fire of vengeance that burned within me, I was without further information or means to act upon it, as powerless in my quest for revenge as I was in my magic.

The whispers concerning Eldoria echoed ominously in my ears, rumors of the movements and changes rendered by the neighboring kingdom that had become our own nation’s oppressors, though nothing concrete.

The trees seemed to enfold me within their protective branches as I stepped into the woods. I’d only gone a few paces when a familiar pull tugged at my senses, veering my path. I recognized that signal was a habit from my constant hunt for traces of the magic that might still linger in forgotten corners of the world, embedding itself into the earth to hide from prying eyes.

I paused near the forest edge where the trees grew dense and the shadows deepened. There amidst the tangle of undergrowth and the mossy crevices of ancient oaks I sensed a faint, pulsating whisper—the hum of a distant melody, barely discernible but unmistakably there. My scar tingled as though the magic locked within me had awakened by the whisper and yearned to break free.

Drawing closer, I knelt by a cluster of ferns, their leaves dusted with the last golden rays of the sun. Hidden beneath, cradled in the crook of an old root, lay a small, glowing orb of light—a pocket of magic, condensed and pure. I paused to admire the tiny but brilliant light; the pure white was different than my own violet glow I’d seen once, but still reminded me of that moment of exquisite joy…and the sorrow that had quickly followed.

My heart raced as I carefully extracted it. Magic in such a tangible form was rare, more precious than any coin or gem. With trembling fingers, I secured the orb within a small, lead-lined pouch that I constantly wore nestled beneath my clothes, a treasure trove that contained every speck of magic I managed to scavenge. I measured the amount with my eyes, estimating it—enough for one, maybe two complicated spells, the only weapons in my arsenal for the vengeance I dreamed of.

I felt a flicker of hope at this rare find. Such discoveries were few and far between; often weeks or even months passed without finding so much as a grain of magical essence. As I secured the pouch, my hand tingled again. I glanced down at the seal that bound my powers, reacting to the magic’s proximity—the dark, vein-like markings pulsed with a deeper shade, throbbing almost in longing. The sensation was unsettling, both a visual reminder of my curse and also a guide that grew more pronounced whenever magic resided nearby.

Trusting the seal’s eerie reaction, I followed the latent trails of magic that beckoned me deeper into the forest. With each step the sensations grew stronger, causing my pulse to quicken with an anticipation I hadn’t felt since the day I first discovered my powers.

The trees parted as I ventured deeper into the forest, as if aware of my quest and aiding me. Shadows danced between the trunks, the air thick with the musky scent of earth and the crisp promise of something grand that awaited me at the end of wherever this mysterious path led.

The woods seemed to hold its breath as I moved silently, attuned to every whisper of wind and every rustle of leaves underfoot as I followed the sixth sense that tugged me closer to the forest’s hidden reservoirs and whispered secrets that usually felt beyond my reach. For years I had been reduced to scavenging for scraps of whatever magic I could find, but thoughI had no idea what lay ahead, I felt closer to my lost powers than I had in years.

A sudden sound penetrated the ominous stillness, rising from the tangle of undergrowth. The curious sound drew me beyond the familiar paths into a grove I scarcely recognized, though I had walked these woods a hundred times before. The air hummed with a subtle vibration that caused my breath to catch.

Magic.

With a stir of excitement I hurried towards the source, searching for the pockets of the glistening power tucked away…but instead came to a confused stop, my scar pulsing wildly. Ahead crouched not pinpoints of glittering light, but a cat beneath the overhanging canopy, its silvery coat glistening softly.

The poor creature was caught in a peculiar snare that appeared unnaturally intricate, embedded with fading runes that hummed softly with ancient magic I recognized more by instinct than familiarity. My lips pressed together in anger as I examined the Eldorian spell before turning my attention to the cat. Its coat shimmered with an iridescent quality, as if moonbeams dusted with a fine layer of starlight had been woven through its fur.

The exhausted animal appeared to have been struggling for some time. Its plaintive mewing intensified as I cautiously approached, whispering soothing words. Slowly, trying not to frighten the trembling cat, I bent over it, running my fingers along the lines of magic to find how the spell worked. The cat gave a pitifulmeowas the magic tightened at my touch.

My heart twisted at the sight, empathy I’d thought died the day Mother had been killed. The cruel confinement resonated deeply, echoing my own powerlessness. Magic was now a rare phenomenon in our kingdom, considering only one kingdomwas currently allowed to practice it, so I immediately knew the likely party responsible for this creature’s suffering.

“Eldoria’s cruelty knows no bounds,” I muttered. Whatever their reason to entrap a magical being was likely connected to whatever had compelled them to steal the magic from the land.

Naturally the cat couldn’t respond; it merely watched me with fearful caution, its luminous eyes wide as I more cautiously examined the bizarre snare, crafted from a mesh of ethereal threads that pulsed in response to my presence, as if wary of another magic-bearer despite my abilities lying dormant. The fine threads looping the cat’s limbs glimmered faintly in the dying light, pinning it to the ground amidst a circle of charred earth that spoke of a spell gone awry.

Unraveling the magical bindings to free the creature without causing harm would require a careful, delicate touch…as well as some of my precious magic reserves. Yet I hesitated only a moment before kneeling beside the cat, whispering words of comfort as I examined the glyphs lining the knots, my fingers tracing the patterns in search of weakness.

Despite my severed connection to my powers, the remnants of my training allowed me to recognize the pattern of an old and powerful binding spell. Once more I hesitated, knowing that using even a sliver of my carefully hoarded magic would provoke the seal on my hand. With a resigned breath, I pulled the pouch from my bodice and allowed myself to channel the smallest thread of magical energy, directing it towards loosening the binds.

The instant the magic flowed, the cursed seal flared in response, the sharp pain shooting up my arm like a warning. It felt as if the mark was clenching, tightening its grip to stifle the flow of magic. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I focused on the task, my need to save this helpless creature fueling my determination.

The tiny runes embedded into the enchanted binding glowed softly beneath my touch as I worked, each motion a delicate dance of pain and power that left me both drained and exhilarated. With each thread I managed to loosen the oppressive energy seemed to dissipate, replaced by a grateful purring from the cat now looking at me with eyes full of cautious hope. When the final spelled thread fell away, the cat sprang free in fluid, graceful movements. I slumped back, the exertion and the response from the seal leaving me momentarily weakened but feeling victorious along with an unfamiliar sensation of well-being, far different than the bitterness that typically accompanied me.

I expected the cat to escape into the forest, but instead it circled me with its tail high in the air, before rubbing against my leg with a loud purr. It was an ordinary gesture, yet something about the way the cat’s eyes met mine was anything but—it seemed to peer directly into my soul and glimpse the depth of my loss as well as the curse that bound me.

My heart both stirred at the contact and attempted to resist the affection, a thrumming pulse that became more agonizing when I rose to leave and the cat remained by my side, clearly with the full intention of following me. “You can’t come home with me.” I tried to sound insistent, but my voice wrenched from years of loneliness.

The cat seemed entirely indifferent to my wishes…or perhaps it sensed the lie hidden in my claim that there wasn’t room in my heart for anyone. It continued to follow me through the forest, its footsteps silent against the undergrowth, its shimmering coat glistening as if touched by magic.

I reluctantly allowed it to have its way, convincing myself it would be cruel to turn it away after it had been trapped for however long. This same reluctance even allowed me to go against the sense worn from years of survival and feed it aportion of my precious bread during dinner, which it pounced on with an adorable eagerness that caused my hardened heart to twinge.

I hastily squelched the dangerous emotion and glared at it. “Being endearing won’t change my determination that you’re only allowed to stay a single night.”

The cat ignored my unconvincing proclamation, too occupied with pawing at the patched curtains, a gesture that caused the corner of my mouth to lift in an almost smile.

That night as I lay by the small fire I had managed to coax to life and drifted into a restless sleep plagued by my usual fears, I felt a new sensation—a warmth, a ripple of magic that was not my own as the cat curled up beside me, almost protectively.

Tentatively, I reached out a hand and nestled it in the soft grey fur, inexplicably comforted by the connection. For some reason the touch triggered an odd familiarity, stirring up memories of Mother tucking me in at night and singing me to sleep, perhaps because it was the first time I’d had this kind of physical contact in the past decade. For the first night since Mother’s death, I wasn’t plagued by my nightmares, as if my new companion had guarded me amid the darkness and kept them away…granting me my first restful, dreamless sleep.

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