“Curious,” I said, kneeling and observing the mostly unbothered skeleton of the cat. The cave showed signs of disturbance from other animals. But other than a few missing limbs, most of the skeleton was intact. I fully expected to find little more than scraps due to scavengers. Yet, there the bones sat, surrounded by a pile of decayed flesh and refuse, the remnants of my amateurish butchering. The brown mess had long since rotted to the point where there wasn’t even a smell. Left behind were bits of bright, lightly beige bone.

  “That’s strange,” Anicia said, staring down at the bones.

  ‘A stressed animal would return to familiar ground, so it’s safe to assume that this cave is this creature's den. Could the fact that it was a magical creature deter other animals? Could a mundane animal even detect such a thing?’

  I bit my lips in contemplation.

  ‘Is it this essence? The dryad spoke of it; she mentioned that in time it would fade from me, but I thought only magical creatures could detect it. And I have no reason to believe she would lie. Then again, she never specified that only magical creatures could detect it. The dryad also mentioned that I am currently closer to a magical creature because of the state of my animus, or more accurately, the veil being permanently open. Horses don't seem to react to me. Presuming that mundane animals could react to magical creatures, would they react to me? … Perhaps I should purchase a pet or something to test this theory.’

  “It’s probably because it’s a magical creature,” I explained. Then I pointed to the sack Anicia was carrying. “Gather up the bones. We'll head south; we're getting closer to the border by the day. And I am eager to leave this empire.”

  After a few minutes of gathering, Anicia shouted at me, “Myr, look at this.”

  Turning my attention to her, she held out a tiny azurite gem, barely larger than a pea. “It was in its chest; I nearly missed it under all that mess.”

  ‘Right, of course. I only ate the meat and ignored the organs; like the dragon, the stone was in its chest.’

  “Good eye, Anicia,” I said, staring into the stone. On a whim, I asked, “This deserves a reward, don't you think?”

  She paused for a few moments, stared off into the distance, then asked. “You said you used an air warmer for yer hair. Can you make me one? And can you show me how you take care of it like yours?” She ran her hand through her own hair.

  I smiled. “That I can do. We should find a river to wash; I know of a few in this area.”

  ~

  Smiling in pleasure, I stared at the air warmer I created for Anicia. It had a detachable base and five individual arcane circles sandwiched together within a six-inch-wide, quarter-inch-thick ring, through which the air would flow.

  Within the cylindrical handle, there was a groove embedded along the length. Sliding a metal bar along the groove would activate different arcane circles. They all did the same thing: heat the air and push it through the ring. Each arcane circle had a different amount of regulation. Allowing precise control of the flow of air without the need to regulate the passive binding.

  It was an excellent way to practice shape transformation.

  “Amazin’,” Anicia said as she blasted her face with a strong, almost uncomfortably warm wind. It whipped her hair about wildly. In the evening sun, it looked like it was aflame. She was far more interested in the air warmer than the gem. And that was fine by me.

  Corina

  We sat by a small stream, deep in the forest. I played guard as my daughter and Myr bathed. They sat in the river, nude as the day they were born. My Anicia was never a woman to be so bold or brave enough to show any amount of skin around even me, fearing that one of the gang would take advantage. Now with Myr, that fear was fading by the day.

  I knew, deep down, that this was on purpose, that Myr was doing this to solidify Anicia’s loyalty and mine through my daughter. This conclusion was not through any great deduction of mine, but Myr’s own words. Day by day, Anicia was more enthralled by her; even her worst tendencies seemed to be glossed over.

  Myr had an attraction to women, so I was unnerved by the idea that the two would bathe together, fearing that she would attempt to coerce her into bed. I felt a mild amount of shame at the thought. Myr never showed any interest in her carnally, so it was unfair of me to automatically judge her for actions she had not committed.

  She’s murdered dozens of times over, but forcing a woman into bed was something I knew she wouldn't do. Call me a fool, but I just couldn't see it in her. Why did I feel myself trusting her? Is it because of her great skill or her honesty? I was sure that she could spin her story ever so slightly to make herself more agreeable to me, yet each time she instead gave me the brutal truth, causing me to doubt her.

  She did, in fact, watch children get raped at the baroness's party and did nothing, simply because her goals were more important than their lives. It was evil; she knew it, I knew it, and the world knew it. But who was I to judge? I have done the same. And if I understand her personality well enough, she couldn't care less about my crime.

  ‘Is that why I still follow? Because her eyes do not hold judgment. Surely, someone skilled enough with manipulation wouldn't make me doubt her. Is that it in the end? Manipulation without manipulation?’

  “It must be a joy not having to deal with yer moon blood anymore,” Anicia said to Myr.

  She shrugged, took on an expression of mild contemplation, then said, “It is, but I still feel like something is missing. In the end, I don't regret it. I’d rather not be dead.”

  Myr touched the pale skin above her womb, her eyes far away.

  “You ever thought 'bout catchin’ a child?” Anicia asked.

  Myr shook her head firmly. “Not once.”

  “What ‘bout the whole queen thing? How's that gonna work without an heir?”

  Without the slightest hesitation, Myr answered. “I’m sure I can fake a pregnancy. Blood means little to me.”

  “You’d have a bastard sit on yer throne?” Anicia asked.

  “Power resides where you believe it does. If everyone thinks that the child is mine, then it is mine. The truth matters not.”

  Anicia smiled and chuckled, “I think a little Myr would be nice.”

  “You really think the world could handle another me?” Myr asked.

  Anicia burst out laughing. “No, we wouldn't survive it. The world can barely hold one o' ya.”

  ~

  The two talked for some time; the months of travel brought camaraderie. I sighed and smiled warmly as Myr taught her how to care for her hair properly. Seeing her, like this, happy and content, warmed me to the core.

  I could see it in her eyes; she was already picturing a great future standing by Myr’s side, practically bursting with pride. I couldn't turn her away from Myr if I tried.

  ‘How long before she started looking at Myr with more than admiration? What should I do if that happens? What can I do? Should I even do something?’

  Looking up at the sky, I prayed for the first time in a long time.

  ‘Please, Anier. Make this be the right choice.’

  Myr, two weeks later.

  I stared at the walls of Lakeshore with a combination of nostalgia, dread, and hesitation. As we traveled, we continually gathered information about myself and the empire as a whole. It was usually contradictory and inaccurate, though it followed the same theme, painting me as some kind of hero. Rarely, if ever, were things like the murder of Elis and Surian mentioned, or if they were, the tale was spun in a way that justified the action.

  Though a few things were of note, first, the baron had a new child with his lady wife, the baroness Vinlan, a boy, it seemed. The most important bit of information was the consistency of my flight south.

  No one seemed to believe that I was still lurking in the empire. There was no new news, and all attempts to track me down for the bounty were long abandoned. Killing or capturing a woman who could kill a dragon was something 50 golden royals couldn't compel someone to attempt. So, most assumed the bounty was more symbolic, since I was still a criminal.

  With Baron Redstone controlling much of the border with Helios, trade had been on the rise, and as we traveled to Lakeshore, carriages were abundant, thus slowing down our journey.

  Another result of the increased trade was heightened security. The baron became paranoid; everyone was searched thoroughly. I couldn't blame him really; he did lose a child after all. Still, this made entering the city impossible. A shame, since it seemed I would not learn Beth and Darion’s fate any time soon.

  “It’s not worth the risk,” I announced after staring at the walls of Lakeshore, looming a few miles in the distance.

  If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Anicia, standing to my left, perked up and suggested, “There’s still a lot of carriages headin’ there. I could ask about it; you never know what they ‘erd or saw.”

  ‘I was already thinking along those lines. But it’s good that she’s taking the initiative in serving me. Might as well give her the credit.’

  I nodded in approval. “Excellent idea. Let's follow the line of carriages for some time.”

  Anicia beamed in approval.

  It was mildly annoying not being able to speak to people, but until I crossed the border, it was best that I limit interactions. An hour’s travel from the city, there was a trading caravan parked off to the side of the road. This large group of people would surely have the information I needed. So, I sat inside the carriage while my servants went about their work. Leaving these lingering questions on my mind would not aid me in the future. I needed to resolve everything in the empire.

  Anicia

  Taking a deep breath, I walked into the small city of carriages parked a few miles away from Lakeshore, on another mission. Straightening my spine, I walked confidently towards the man selling fine clothes. He was short with finger-length hair and a neatly trimmed brown beard, wearing bright blues and purples.

  “Good day, sir,” I said, trying to speak properly.

  He raised an eyebrow and looked me up and down, clearly unimpressed by my comparatively simple clothing.

  “As ya see, I’m in distress and need proper clothing; this homespun is driving me mad.” In reality, this was the best clothing I had ever worn, but Myr informed me of how people of higher stations viewed clothing.

  ‘Anything other than the finest of silk is considered little more than homespun.’

  The man shifted a bit and adopted a smile.

  “Well then, my Lady, what can I offer amongst my collection?” He said, gauging me. I nodded as if in approval, looked over his clothing, and sighed in mild disappointment. I never saw silk before, but by Myr's description, none of the items on offer looked to be made of the material. His carriage was a massive four-horse monstrosity with many items on offer.

  “I suppose I'll settle for some fine cotton and wool,” I said, reaching.

  ‘Don't ever be impressed with anything.’

  He smiled wildly, no doubt sensing he was going to profit. That smile turned manic as I reached into my coin purse and pulled out a gold royal. Immediately, his entire demeanor changed, as if seeing me in a new light.

  ~

  I spent the entire royal purchasing clothing, and since I knew Myr's preference for dark colors and we were similar sizes, I knew what to get for her. He apparently had a wife who could help cut and stitch clothes to fit me. There was an entire wooden hut built for privacy, with three large guards to ensure none would try anything.

  After dressing in my new clothes, I began my interrogation.

  “I heard Myr once lived in the city,” I said, examining the gloves. He was practically putty in my hands now. After all, I knew he overcharged me significantly.

  “Aye, come to see the city for yerself?”

  I nodded. “It’s quite the tale, maidservant to magus.”

  He nodded as if this were a common thing for people to ask. “Worked in this very city.”

  “It’s true then? She was a maidservant? Worked in an eatery?”

  “Indeed, Darion’s Dish, it’s called. Let me tell you, that's one hell of a drama.”

  ‘It's called? Meaning it still exists. Myr will be pleased with that.’

  “Can you tell me about that? I’ve heard much about the dragon, not so much this.”

  “It’s not surprising; not many know the details outside Redstone.”

  Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out ten eagles and handed them to him. “I’d love to know the story. I apologize if I’m wasting yer time.”

  He scoffed and returned the coin. “Please, my dear, this is the least.” He paused and tapped his bearded chin. “Now, where to start? Probably right after the deep winter.”

  He continued. “Darion and Beth, apparently, took her off the streets and gave her work. Somehow, the girl made her way into the baron's own keep.”

  “What happened to Beth and Darion? I doubt the baron would be pleased. Especially with his daughter.”

  He nodded. “Aye, after the deep winter, it started spreading that Myr’s the one who killed her. Let’s just say the baron wasn't pleased.”

  Taking a deep breath, I asked, “What happened?”

  “Dragged them both away in chains after the deep winter; Beth was still nursing her newborn in prison. Wasn't just them, Viscount Enaris, the head maid… Don't remember her name…and a few others. It was the chopping block for all of them. That’s how mad the baron was.”

  “So were they executed?” I asked.

  The merchant chuckled and said, “Damned close; they were in prison for a year awaiting the hangman. Then we started hearing other things about Myr. Saving lives, helping people, and then there was her giving away all that gold in Greystone. That one there was the real kicker that kept the baron from killing them all. Myr’s reputation was turning around, and the baron's actions during the war…” He paused.

  I nodded solemnly. “I know that much; no need to go over that tragedy.”

  “Well, it wasn't good for his reputation. To start killing people who were innocent would hurt his rule, especially since the commoners liked Myr.”

  He took a deep breath and kept talking. “He was in a bit of a limbo about what to do about them; He couldn't kill ‘em without causing upheaval, nor could he let them go. That changed when Baroness Vinlan came, and I don't know what they talked about, but in less than a week, they were all released.”

  “After that?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “They were treated like lepers by the nobles. Business was going under. No one wanted to support the people who aided the Maiden. But the common people loved Myr, and they got some business from them. It was just enough to keep them from losing everything. Then a new story started spreading.”

  “The dragon,” I said.

  He smiled and nodded enthusiastically, “Aye, the empress herself and Myr slew a dragon. No one believed it at first. But the story kept coming, over and over. The magisterium, royal family, and every noble confirmed the tale. That lit a fire under the people, especially since the baron was planning to execute Beth and Darion.”

  “Nobles and wealthy thrill seekers from all over came, wanting to visit said eatery. Especially to taste the glazed duck and drink Arbor West, since it was her favorite meal. Eventually, even the baron’s own people stopped caring about offending him by visiting the eatery.” He kissed his teeth and complained to himself. “Been trying to get a table there for months,” He continued. “Nobles, being the political animals they are, compelled the Baron to make peace with Darion. And so ends the struggle. There are even rumors that the empress could visit; no fool would want to spoil that opportunity.”

  “So things turned out well for them in the end.” I deduced.

  He shrugged. “Aye, no eatery in the city… hells, in any of the southern baronies is more popular. It's up to them if sitting around for a year in prison awaiting execution, only to be released, then spending another half year in near financial ruin, was worth their current success.”

  “I see. Thank you for the information.”

  He bowed formally and said, “My pleasure.”

  ~

  I went to a few other carriages, asking for information, and the story remained consistent; some had more, some had less, but I was reasonably sure that the merchant was telling the truth.

  ‘I wonder if Myr will be pleased with the result.’

  Myr

  Anicia and Corina returned to the carriage over an hour later. I smiled, noting she managed to find some decent clothes. A black shirt and a dark blue underbust corset; black pants that were slightly too large but sat well on my hips, leather boots that reached to my mid-calf, and a set of gloves of the same dark brown color. It wasn't cheap by any means, but I had more coin than I knew what to do with.

  After dressing in the carriage, I looked over to Anicia, who was dressed similarly, though in bright greens and yellows, and asked.

  “You have the information?” She nodded firmly.

  “Good, let’s get moving.”

  ~

  As Anicia relayed the information on Beth and Darion to me, I couldn’t help but smile. Whether or not their feelings towards me soured for the worse, I did not know, nor did it matter. The fact is, they didn't get the noose for my actions, which was reward enough, though they did suffer for some time. It was the best ending for the worst of my fears.

  Another piece of information I wanted Anicia to find was a general idea about my origins. Surprisingly, it was sparse; most knew I was from Redstone. But the village, and who my parents were, seemed to be rather obscure. One would assume the name Farway would be on every tongue, yet the opposite was true. I wasn't entirely sure what the point of suppressing that information was.

  Then there was the village itself, only weeks away. There was a tension in me, a hesitation, a worry that, ever since the journey to fight the dragon, lingered on the back of my mind. Yet, as I approached Farway, I could not avoid it.

  “Would ya have taken revenge if they were killed?” Corina asked as we ate supper by the fire.

  After taking a moment to think about it, I answered, “No, or at the very least not right now. It wouldn't be worth it to reveal my existence.”

  She nodded as if expecting that answer. “Yet you wish to burn Farway. Would this not cause the same thing?”

  I could argue that Farway was close to the border and that by the time information about my existence reached the Magisterium, I would be long gone. But I knew it was a lie.

  “Indeed, yet for all that, I still wish to burn it to the ground.” As soon as I said it, I shook my head and contradicted myself. “No, that’s not quite true. My hatred of them once raged within me like dragon fire. I used to dream about burning them all to ash, hearing their screams and wails of agony as all they loved turned to cinders. ”

  “And now?” Anicia asked.

  I sighed and admitted, “The once raging fires are little more than embers now. Too much time has passed… Too much has happened to me since then. A new flame has long taken its place, and now I worry that…”

  Anicia finished for me, “You won’t enjoy it?”

  “Something like that. Or more accurately, that when I destroy it all, I would feel nothing. No satisfaction, no joy, no sense that I was righting the wrongs done to me.”

  “So, you’ve forgiven them?” Anicia asked, confused.

  I barked out a laugh. “Not in the least; I don't partake in the nonsense that is forgiveness.” I ran my fingers through my hair and said, “I’ll start with my family; their actions demand a reprisal, and if that pleases me, I will move on to the village.”

  A smile came over my face. “I can’t wait to see how they will react.”

  I pictured Mother, Bren, Aalis, and my brothers all terrified as I brought out my flames. Then I moved on to burning every shop, stall, building, and even the surrounding forest to ash. I forced the fire within me to ignite, consuming my mind. Or at least I tried. The flames sputtered and reduced once more to embers. A strange feeling washed over me, one that shocked me even more than my lack of burning hate.

  Shame.

  ‘What is wrong with me? Why am I feeling this? I’ve killed dozens of innocents without hesitation, without regret. Yet there it is, shame. Have I grown weak?’

  Thinking back to the three abused girls I killed, their terrified faces as I ran my dagger across their throats, and the begging in their final moments.

  ‘I still don't feel a drop of regret or shame for murdering those girls. And I’d do it again, a hundred…a thousand times over, and not lose a minute of sleep. They were far less guilty than the people of Farway. Yet, why do I feel shame when imagining burning Farway to the ground?’

  Anger boiled in me as I realized the shameful weakness coursing through me. To have come so far, to achieve so much, only to feel shame at the apex of my triumph was beyond infuriating. It cannot and will not stand.

  After a few minutes of trying to burn the feeling away and failing, I stopped, took a deep breath, and calmed myself.

  ‘I need to resolve this. I can't allow such weakness to fester. I will go to Farway, figure out why I am feeling this, and rip it out, root and stem. Then, I will be free.'