Months had passed since Julie left her first master’s side in the swamplands. No news reached her ears about the war between Xilor and the realm. Judas’s fate remained a mystery to her. At this point, she didn’t care, the event too far removed. She had her personal war to wage, either with Judas, Fife, or Xilor.

  Julie hated the majority of the six months she spent with Fife, but realized that her capabilities grew exponentially. The Grand Maghai even attested to her strength, noting her command improved thrice since she arrived. The way forward was long and daunting, filled with mastering the concentration and discipline needed to perceive the energy around her. She still lacked mastery of patience, which deteriorated her focus.

  When the seasons change, you will know.

  She neared a self-appointed mastery. The final traces of uncertainty fell away as she closed on her goal. While mistrustful, and most likely always would be, she no longer doubted herself or her place in Ermaeyth. The day Fife told her to find herself, she let go of her need for control. Once she did, she felt alive. Julie didn’t care if he called her Starriace, but he never did. Anything was better than nothing. By self-evaluation, she found herself controlling, wanting to be in charge of her destiny, but once she acknowledged that she would never control everything, a burden shifted from her shoulders. Though she didn’t ‘find’ herself as commanded, she did discover revelations about herself.

  Gradually, she conceded with her true identity, her real name: Starriace. Perhaps when she did acknowledge who and what she was, she would attain mastery? Other mysteries and decisions weighed on her mind, costing her precious time and energy.

  I should have put the ring on long ago.

  Even now, she carried the ring, stuffed safely in her pocket.

  Many questions remained unanswered, and many answers begged questions she never asked.

  First: her power.

  On rare instances of emotional levity, an occasion very uncharacteristic for Fife Doole, he tittered about how much progress she had made within a short time. His exact words were, “breathtakingly powerful.” After hearing his conversation with the woman, whoever she might be, Julie no longer trusted him. Every day she honed her abilities, stretching beyond the limits of yesterday, straining to become better, stronger, faster. Progress granted independence, freed her from the shackles of a master who kept things from her. Every test Fife set before her, she failed. Not barely, but miserably, never achieving a proximity to his capability.

  Not since the day in his hut, when I broke free of his hold.

  If her power tripled since arriving as he vouched, when would she touch the ceiling, reach her limit? Fife’s limit? Judas’s limit?

  Second: her true self.

  Her name and her heritage. She accepted the fact she may never know, but greatly desired to. What importance did her name possess? Who were her parents? Why did her mother and father leave her on the Other Side? What could have been so horrible, so terrible, that they abandoned to some archaic, unadorned existence? The atrocity bestowed upon her incited resentment, and she hated her parents for their grievance.

  Third: magic.

  Simplistic in its construction, almost like basic math skills: one plus one equals two. Beyond the basic structure, magic became more complicated, not always like addition, but more like converting numbers to figure distances in the heavens—without form, yet could be molded, siphoned, or contained into any position to reach your desired outcome.

  Fourth: the Other Side.

  She couldn’t remember the Other Side and she didn’t want to, but she couldn’t forget she lived there at one point. The thought festered, always lurking in her mind, an obstacle like glass, transparent yet still there. Perhaps something would come of not forgetting, something important, or maybe it would fade altogether, the latter preferable.

  She snapped out of her reverie, eying the gnomling. Today was a crucial day that would decide and shape the way of things to come in her training. Today she faced a test. Fife measured her progress through dueling, a way to scrutinize her ability. Would she ever be ready for more lessons?

  Today also marked the change of the season.

  They stood but ten meters apart, too close for the apprentice’s comfort, aware of Fife’s lightning-fast reflexes.

  Even for an old man, he is fast.

  They ambled on opposite sides of a circle; always in motion, only their sides were exposed to the other, the smallest possible target. Without warning, the Grand Maghai launched a fireball at her. She responded with ease, casting a mist of ice. The fireball passed through, the spells canceling each other. Julie had come to realize during her time with Fife, much to her resentment, he only instructed her to defend and evade.

  Without learning how to attack, how would she overcome an opponent? She grew weary of having her questions and motives blocked by the elder. Each week passed with her becoming more aggressive, taking the fight to him with each test. It wasn’t so bad, was it? Showing initiative on her part? Maybe he would take note and quit sidestepping her studies and training.

  Another flare of energy flew at her, more quickly than she realized. Unable to counter, she avoided by rolling to her left. From a kneeling position, she sent a ball of ice toward her mentor. The tranquil staff moved in a flash, almost too fast for her eyes. Light flared as his rod made contact, but no sound escaped. He repelled her attack, redirecting the energy back at her. The incoming ball of ice picked up momentum, but she countered the conjury with an invisible wall of heat, melting the ball instantly and leaving the ground unscathed.

  “Impressive,” complemented the mentor, “the first time you tried that one, you nearly burnt my house down.”

  “I try,” answered Julie unemotionally. Her thoughts raced with what he might throw next, but in the back of her mind, a voice screamed, wanted to be heard, acknowledged.

  Enough! Take the fight to him. Attack! He isn’t expecting it, and it’s time you learned. If he still doesn’t teach you, you can go elsewhere.

  The ring Rusem bestowed filled her mind over the past few months. She grew weary of the way the Grand Maghai failed to acknowledge the offensive part of Rumigul.

  “Keep your mind on the here and now, in the present,” he warned her.

  He emitted another spell, and a small, silver-white wall rushed her. With no time for precise measurements, Julie decided to make a jump for it. She bounded off the ground, but as she went up, the light followed her, lurching upward to catch her. Willing herself higher, displacing herself, she broke gravity’s hold and rose higher, long after the effects of her jump. She floated over the rising energy. Her right palm snapped out towards her master as she came down. A red glow enveloped her hand. The same radiance encompassed Fife, siphoning across the expanse between them. The voice compelled her action.

  If you’re unwilling to go to fight, then I will.

  Landing on the ground, palm still outstretched, her eyes widened. She couldn’t discern what was happening; she felt possessed, a helpless witness to the event. The elder’s face paled from evident strain. He fought for control, whatever he suffered had a secondary effect. The longer the spell lasted, the more aware Julie became, infinite in her limited body. The channeling grew in potency and the power swelled, exploding upward, filling her. Her vision dimmed, and her thoughts darkened with sinister satisfaction. The effect was akin to the book in the swamplands, but this time, she took rather than received. What seemed like a frantic effort, the gnomling swiped the staff between them. The contact broke, flinging both parties away from each other. She landed in a heap; her breath knocked from her lungs.

  “What was that?” Fife bellowed, a fury smoldering off him, his eyes ablaze.

  Whether from fear, caution, or the physical toll of impact, she rose slower.

  “I don’t know, it just happened.”

  “Where did you learn that, young one?” Anger laced his voice.

  “Nowhere! Like I said, it just happened.” She tried not to give any of the telltale signs of her rising ire. If he detected her animosity, he might retaliate as he had before, bringing her premonitions to reality.

  “I will ask you one more time, child, where did you learn to do that?” Julie shrugged her shoulders, exasperated, but kept her silence. It came from within. How could she claim it, let alone tell him where the unexplainable ability came from? Did he not recognize the truth, her sincerity?

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “I see,” Fife finally intoned, calmer, but still angry. “What you did is forbidden, do you understand? What you did is a dark and terrible. No decent wizard would be caught dead attempting such vile practices, and I mean that quite literally. You performed a life drain, do you understand? It drains the life and aura from the victim and regenerates you, did it not? Siphoned life and knowledge from me, is that not so? That is the same as using your abilities for killing. It is the same for those people who mutter silly words,” Fife uttered the last with contempt, the idea of using incantations.

  It seems I’m not the only intolerable one in the realm, she thought, amused and relieved.

  “Master, if you would teach me offensive spells, what to do and what not to do—”

  “No!” Fife blurted defiantly. “You are not ready. You missed blocking a spell in our bout and just let it fly past you, making you partly responsible for killing innocent bystanders. Until you learn defense and recognize spells without incantation, you are not fit for offensive tactics. You have failed this test!”

  Is this the part where he kills me? He hasn’t said the warning. Perhaps the female’s voice was wrong? Perhaps her Shadowcasting was wrong!

  Her resentment boiled, detesting his crass and direct personality. She loathed his belittlement. Perhaps forgivable because of the language barrier, but after six months of it, it grated her nerves. The second-guessing and ridicule agitated her. Walking precariously around him was exhausting. Fife never took in account her feelings, and she became jaded from his lies and omissions.

  Just like Judas.

  She hated him for it.

  “So,” she muttered, folding her arms angrily in front of her, “that is your final word then?”

  “Yes,” he implied with finality, stamping his staff on the ground like a judge dropping a hammer on the verdict.

  “I feel…,” she began, but faltered, choked on the words she contemplated. The voice in the back of her mind took over for her, “There is nothing more I can learn from you.” Malice swaddled the words like a second skin.

  “I sensed this would come … what has brought this change in you?”

  She rolled her eyes and swept into the cottage and gathered her pack and her books. Warm enmity scalded her insides with each passing moment, every hammering beat of her heart. By the time she returned outside, she was beyond furious, in a borderline psychotic rage.

  “If you leave now, no one can help you, Starriace,” he intoned.

  There it was, the name he always called her, the name he stopped calling her. “Not even me. Your journey will lead you to darkness, can you not sense it? Everyone travels the dark road within themselves, but you will not fully return.”

  She stopped briefly to consider his words, but just the sound of his voice disgusted her and fueled the hatred. Julie basked in her hate and rage, a brewing like a storm at sea, contained by the resolve of her delicate will.

  “I should have known learning from you would be a mistake, a waste of time!” her other voice spoke for her.

  “You shouldn’t be angry at me, but at yourself. Your impatience drives you to resentment, like a child throwing a tantrum, is that not so? The decision you make in haste will have its consequences, grave consequences, for all involved and for all who aren’t.”

  “You shouldn’t have held me back!” she screamed, her voice shrill. Manic glee filled her heart, like when she hacked away at Mr. Pleasure with the sword.

  “The only thing held back from you was your true self. Try as I might, I could only slow the inevitable. You cannot handle offensive spells. Your attitude has driven you mad, is that not evident enough? Your lust for power is already showing signs, yes? You must not go. Only the darkness will be awaiting you out there,” he divulged, pointing to the north of the Melodic Mountains.

  “I don’t see any way around it. If you will not help me, I know someone who will. Someone who will teach me all that I yearn for.”

  For a brief moment, she contemplated pulling out the ring from her pocket, where it had slumbered for months. She took a second to think, brandishing the ring in front of the gnomling might not be the best of ideas. He’d probably try to take it from her, stop her. Rage simmered in her blood. Thoughts, images, and emotions slammed together in her mind, flashing like bolts of sporadic lightning.

  “In your fury, this decision will hurt a lot of people, the ones you love.”

  Was it just her, or did his voice now sound quiet, remorseful, and ashamed? The thought ripped away too fast before she realized the implications. The other voice took over her mind, filling her head.

  Fool! Are you going to fall for his tricks again?

  “What do you know of love?” Julie snapped. “I don’t have time for this. I’m going. Don’t try to stand in my way!” The other gave her a slight bow and, as his head came up, she caught a tear running down the side of his face. His appearance almost stopped her cold, her anger flooding out of her like a broken dam. But the other part of her wouldn’t give up so easily, the dam repaired, her hate restored.

  “I shall not suffer your evilness upon Ermaeyth, Julie! If it must fall to me, then I will destroy that which I create.” he spoke suddenly. And at last, Fife’s warning fell. He didn’t say it the same way, and he used her name, the identity she had always clung to, but what good had it ever done her? Julie’s life had been a lie, a sham, hatched by a warlock who failed her. Julie and all the name implied was a husk to be shrugged off.

  “You shall not leave here, Empress,” Fife barked.

  Empress.

  The pieces of her Shadowcasting materialized, though out of sequence. It mattered not, she wouldn’t be staying here, regardless of what he said. She wanted nothing more than to get out of his sight, away from his presence. Fife’s essence flared at the edge of her senses.

  She rounded on the gnomling. Hate, contempt, and malice filled her voice. “My name is Starriace, and I will not suffer you!”

  Starriace returned to a feat she once did six months ago in the swamplands. Gathering acrimony, determination, and command of her essence, she concentrated before bounding for the sky, taking flight down the mountainside, leaving the Grand Maghai and his half-gathered energy, far behind.

  “Neat trick,” Fife Doole muttered. “She obviously got the talent from her mother, yes?”

  “Is there wisdom in letting her go after you’ve angered her? Considering what will happen … the darkness,” said the voice that sounded like a thousand voices in unison.

  “Soma,” Fife said at length, “what is wise? What does your divination tell you about her future?” He looked off after Starriace until long after she vanished from sight. “She will find her way, her path, her peace, or she won’t. True peace only comes from within, is that not so?”

  “Let us hope you are right. Everyone makes choices; nothing is set. I hope what you foresaw in her isn’t true. I cannot see her end; it is blocked from my sight.”

  “Her future is both devastating and magnificent, but blocked from the Time Warden? Should I doubt your words or your abilities? Perhaps what we saw won’t become real; did you note her face when I called her Empress? She’s bewildered by what I was talking about, a good sign, is it not? Perhaps, despite best efforts, the path remains unblemished, or maybe events still lie in wait. Who knows? I like surprises.” He paused and stroked his beard for a few moments. When he spoke again, his words were hushed whispers. “What if we are mistaken? What if we just caused what we wanted to avoid? The wrong time for me to meet her would explain why she didn’t understand when I called her Empress.”

  “Always a possibility,” the other muttered in agreement.

  Fife sighed and then changed subjects. “Who is her mother?”

  “Ah, so something can elude the Grand Maghai?” Soma teased. “Can you not puzzle it out?”

  “I like surprises, even the ones I bestow,” he disclosed. “I did meet this one lovely young lady, the kind of lovely that haunts your dreams.”

  “Ah, yes. I have visited the incident of which you speak. Those particular events you refer to are buried deep,” Soma purred, reminiscing.

  “What did you do?”

  “What needed to be done, Grand Maghai. But as far as her mother is concerned, that mystery is wrapped around the archangels. Surely you can’t be that inattentive!” the other admonished him.

  “So, her mother is an archangel? Impressive, is it not? Both for her and for her father. I mean, she didn’t even have wings, and she—,” he used his arm to show a flying action, making sounds with his mouth, “—down the mountain.”

  “Expected, though her mother left immortality behind for a man, perhaps her powers carried over to the offspring. When she chose him, she gave up her gift of immortality, but not her abilities. She is a powerful force to be reckoned with. Perhaps she could destroy your one-time star pupil, Judas Lakayre.”

  “Her mother walks among us still?”

  “Us? We are not them, and they are not us. To answer your question, yes, and she has for quite some time,” Soma disclosed, her voice soft. “I, myself, am proud of her choices and the difficult path she walks.”

  “You would be,” Fife snorted. “I wonder if Starriace’s father is aware her mother was an archangel?”

  “No, he isn’t, but he harbors suspicions. Do you think it right not to tell her about her father?”

  Silence had ensued before he spoke. “Yes, at the time. Did you not see her when she came to me?” He shook his head. “Emotionally unbalanced, she would have turned around and gone to find him had she been aware. No, it is better for her to find out later. Speaking of fathers and daughters, what does Judas know of his children?”

  “Nothing, and will remain so until there is a need, if there ever is. Tragically, he thinks his daughter is dead and is unaware of the others.”

  “Your fault, if I recall, yes? For the best, I should think. I cannot decide. Had he known she lived after the Wizard’s War, he would have exhausted all attempts and powers to bring her back from the Other Side. Now, after all that has transpired, I am not so sure.”

  “Will you tell him?”

  “Me? No! Well, yes, but he thinks I’m dead; he wouldn’t be looking for me.”

  Soma grew pensive, looking out over the beautiful panoramic she knew well. “I’ve always liked it here,” she confessed with a note of melancholy. It was always peaceful up in the mountains, from the first time she laid eyes upon them so long ago until now. She enjoyed the haven more than any other place.

  “If Starriace’s father confronted you, would you tell him?” She didn’t let Fife answer. “Would you reveal that she is here now, among us, alive and well? Or would you feign ignorance like in the past, like you do now, taking the easier and cowardly approach?”

  “Who can say what is wise and what is cowardly?” he admitted, looking cross. “It is a situation I have yet to face, nor should I interfere!”

  “He’ll confront you one day,” she warned. “I’ve seen the future, and her father will come. Might I suggest you go to him so that others will not die in his absence?”

  “What? Just poof in his tent? ‘Surprise! I have returned?’”

  Soma chuckled. “You could, or visit him in a dream. The choice is yours. Now, we wait, and watch.”