[https://img.wattpad.com/story_parts/1281917087/images/172384c6307afaa4116415707310.png]

I've never before felt so small.

I knew from my stories of the vastness of the realm - but here, up above the forest canopy, the horizon stretched farther than even my newfound eyes could see. I was nothing - nothing but a tiny black speck high above the trees. We had only been in the air for a few moments before the bright dancing suns started their slow spiral over the eastern mountain range of Valencte - sending slivers of golden light through the low clouds above. A beauty so jarring that I nearly fell out of the sky.

It was almost high noon by the time we finally landed. I followed the stranger down through a thick patch of ancient treetops, weaving carefully through the branches to keep up. As we both flittered to the ground, my eyes met with our destination. In the middle of a small clearing in the dense woods was a modest wooden cabin. It was small, possibly only one room, and looked to be long abandoned. The once-dark wood was stained green with years of moss and moisture, as I could hear what sounded like a small brook nearby. The thatched roof was in desperate need of repair and started to droop over one side, curving around a small stone tower of rocks that made up the twisted chimney. I hopped closer, hesitant, but something caught my eye. On the crooked old front door was inlaid a small golden crest, a sigil, shining bright and new in contrast to the rest of the dreary cabin.

I had seen these sorts of magical objects before in the city; it was a ward of protection, preventing entry or detection on any sort of magical devices. However, this particular ward was more delicately carved and elaborate than any I had seen before, with tiny delicate snakes circling flowers in golden chains.

"What is this place?" I said, still surprised when my inquiry came out in a loud "caw".

"A hiding place," he replied, "A place I made many moons ago as refuge. It's seen better days. But you will be safe here for now."

I watched as he hopped to the door and tapped it three times with his beak. The door creaked open in response. To my surprise, it was brightly lit inside with soft lamps lighting the red and black embroidered couch and high bookshelf. There was a large woven tapestry hanging on the wall, detailing even the smallest mountain range just above a single bed, piled high with lush blankets.

I hesitated at the door, uncertain of what to do next, when he finally turned to me.

"After you," he said, stepping back, "I'm afraid we will have to stay in these forms just a bit longer. It's easier for us to talk this way... At least until I get my mask back."

I glided forward, landing on the elaborate couch and getting one of my tiny nails stuck in the fine weave much to my frustration. He let out a caw-laugh and hopped up softly beside me, leaving the door to close on its own with gentle creak.

"I... I don't even know your name," I started.

Maybe it was the earlier calming spell he put on me but the gravity of the situation was starting to just now settle in. Here I was in the middle of the woods, secluded in a strange cabin, with a strange and powerful mage - one who had bewitched me not once, but twice, with a single word.

There was a brief pause as the bird seemed to consider my words.

"I am called Lumo," he began, "And before I begin to answer all of the many questions you may have, I do want to apologize for my earlier demeanor. I forgot my manners in my urgency. I hope you can forgive me."

"Lumo," I started, "Why can't I see your face?"

The strange bird jumped down, perhaps slightly agitated as he began to pace about the small room.

"Because I don't have my mask," he answered curtly.

"...I'm aware of that. I'm just not sure why you need to cover your face to begin with," I hesitated. "Do you have some sort of birthmark or disfigurement? I really don't mind-"

I was interrupted by a loud squawk of a laugh, exaggerated by him flapping his wings dramatically.

"That is... That is fantastic. Mira, I have not laughed like that in a long while. Thank you... But no, I am not particularly shy or embarrassed when it comes to my appearance. But I do appreciate the sentiment."

He hopped up again to the couch beside me.

"I'm not sure how to properly explain... My mask makes it so we can properly talk - freely talk with one another. It allows me to walk among this realm - without notice. I'm... I'm afraid that's all I can say for now. But I will get it back."

"Who took it from you?" I asked.

"Someone... someone very powerful took it away from me as punishment - from the spectacle I created yesterday," he said.

"Why... Why did you do that? Why did you stop the ceremony?"

My memories flashed to Limenta's flared nostrils and fists.

"I was afraid of what... Of what you might do," he answered.

"What I might do?"

"Yes... You see - I was sent there to watch you. If you became too... agitated at the ceremony - something bad could have happened," said Lumo, pacing again.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"Something bad?"

"Yes - you may not understand everything just yet, but you are more powerful than you know. All those mornings without a single flame - it's because you do not belong to any one guardian... You are a disciple of Solia herself."

I froze.

Solia.

The High Queen and ruler of all four houses. Guardian of guardians. The arbiter of the scales, holding life and death in each palm. Impossible.

"That dream you had," he continued, "It was a test from Solia herself - to see if you would hesitate or if you would let your heart take over. But when you revived the imp, your fate was sealed."

"But... If all this is true - It was only a dream. I had not done any such thing while awake - even if I could," I stuttered. My mind was racing.

"Oh, but you can - and if you did do any such thing yesterday, I would be there to stop you. It was to be an ordinary ceremony - but when they approached your sister... I knew what they were doing. They wanted you to act out - to let your magic take over unfettered in your agitation. In turn - they would have wanted me to... to control the situation. It was not a test for you - but a test for me."

I remembered back to yesterday and how tense I became once they approached Limenta. But at the time, I did not feel any such 'magic' brewing inside. I only felt the steady unease of anxiety - an anxiety altogether familiar to me.

"So, I'm afraid we both failed our given tests," he continued, "But unfortunately, I'm only faced with the minor hindrance of being without my mask for a while. Whilst you... well you are to... you will be..."

"Killed."

"Well, no, you'll be taken to the Seven Judges to answer -"

"Then killed. Never has a practitioner of Blood Magic been deemed innocent. Never. It's the highest treason."

"I... yes. Yes." he sighed. "Hence the urgency this morning."

He stopped pacing for a moment, staring at me with the black shining eyes, his bird face impossible to read.

"Alas, I am sure you have many more questions, but the day grows long. As I said, you will be safe here. As much as I would like to, I cannot stay here... Those that are looking for me are far more worrisome than those few who came knocking at your door this morning," he said, stepping closer.

"You're leaving me here?"

"Not for too long, I hope. But I will need you to close your eyes again. I can't leave you here as a bird, no. You should find everything you need here until I get back... Food in the chest, clothes under the bed... I promise - I promise it won't be long."

I closed my eyes, defeated. As fun as this little crow adventure was, I longed for my own familiar body. I then felt three gentle taps of his beak against mine before I was met with the same familiar pressure, then release, like the first gasp of air after a long swim, and tiny ricochets of little needles pulsed in a wave though my skin. There was a quick slam of the cabin door, and I finally opened my eyes - finding myself unclothed and alone in the little room.

He was gone.

I hesitated for a bit, hugging my body close, knees tight to my chest. Though the room was empty, I was still afraid to completely expose myself in the search to find something to cover myself with. It may not have been cold, but I did not fancy being naked any longer than I had to. With another quick scan around the room - just to be sure - I slowly crouched to the ground to peek underneath the bed for those clothes he had mentioned before he flew out the door.

It took a hefty pull, but I was able to pull a small but heavy chest from underneath the surprisingly clean floor from under the bed's frame. It was filled with loose shirts, pants, cloaks, each with what I imagined to be extremely expensive material - judging by the incredibly soft texture and tight weave. I started to fold each garment into neat piles, taking inventory. Of course, as expected, not a dress in sight. I settled on a white tunic shirt and black trousers which fit well enough.

After everything was sorted and put away, I spent the next few hours exploring the little cabin. Although it was quite small, I found something new and interesting hidden in every corner. I quickly found the dried fruit and crackers in the chest that he mentioned and was eating by the fistful, surprisingly ravenous, as I made my way through the tall bookshelf. I was surprised to see some familiar titles - I had also owned a few of the well-worn books telling tales of the Barren-bound knights. They were gifted to me from my father through the years and did anything but ease my worries.

There was Lord Kyron, the sly Selphene knight who was able to slay sixteen of the dreaded Void beasts created by the vile and cruel "Western Witch." She was mentioned throughout many of these stories, but never by name. No, to speak a name of such a vile being was to give it power - and another sin.

The masterful Lord Kryon was in several of these old bound books but not as much as the great beastrider Lord Ventas. His stories were my favorite - although a bit bloody at times. Ventas rode a great golden wyvern, destroying many of the spiked Barren keeps throughout his time in the war. One particular tale told of his time rescuing his childhood love - kidnapped and bewitched by a Void magic wielder deep in the outer western Barrens. Alone he fought the many beasts, all in the name of the great Solia as he carried her gold and white banner high and proud through the ashen sky.

Like Blood Magic, which used the wielder's own blood as a catalyst, Void Magic was also forbidden. Void Magic corrupted and distorted the existing magic within the vessel, morphing it into something volatile and dangerous. There are tales of Void mages powerful enough to absorb their enemies magic, boil their blood, and even split themselves into two to avoid death.

Was that where I belonged -out in the Outer Barrens among the Western Witch, and dastardly Void mages? I certainly didn't feel like the villains that filled the stories of my youth. But yet I couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt as I thought of my family. It was once my childhood dream to maybe one day fight alongside my father - certainly not against him.

Gods, why did it have to be Blood Magic.

I slumped to the couch, brushing my hands off on my trouser legs to get rid of any residual cracker crumbs. I pulled one of the many heavy blankets off of the nearby bed and covered my face. I then proceeded to weep, for an embarrassingly long time, just letting myself dwell in the self-pity for perhaps longer than I should have.

I didn't ask for this.

I didn't want this.

Blood Magic? BLOOD MAGIC?

Stupid fake dream imp.

Stupid me.

Stupid, stupid, STUPID.

With a final exhausted grunt, I pushed the blanket away to the floor, my face hot and red. I'm sure I probably resembled Limenta in yesterday's carriage ride home. My throat tightened with a sudden dryness - and I admonished myself for eating so many dry goods without having any water to quench my thirst. I stretched out my arms with a final sigh, glad to get all of the pent-up energy out in privacy, only to be startled upright with a sharp knock.

I froze, hoping it was nothing, but there it was again.

Knock, knock.