Meladee sat and stared at the devastation. She hid in the corner of her room, in the only space not covered by debris. Ripped sheets, broken furniture, and shattered glass covered the rest of the floor. A gentle breeze blew through an open window, ruffling frayed curtains.

In the corner opposite Meladee, lay a ruined wooden servant. Every few minutes, its smashed arms and legs twitched while its eyes rolled around in its head.

Meladee narrowed her eyes and watched the monstrous thing. Hours earlier, she had taken a short trip out of the compound. She visited the village and returned to find a ruined room. Standing in the corner, head down, she found her violent wooden servant. The thing ran at her, and Meladee used her battle magic to defend herself. Alarms rang, and other Agaric Healers came to her rescue.

With their help, Meladee destroyed the servant and released its recently attached soul.

Alastronia explained that these things happened sometimes, especially to a healer’s first wooden servant. If the soul gained enough consciousness to understand its whereabouts, it became violent. Every such servant had to be destroyed and set free. Alastronia insisted that Meladee try again: repair the puppet and call a new soul.

Meladee wanted to suggest a counter action. Why not free all the souls and destroy all the puppets? Seemed like a better deal for everyone.

Meladee kept the idea to herself. Alastronia would either laugh and pretend Meladee wasn’t serious, or Alastronia would be too serious. In that case, there would be punishment.

Meladee shifted her gaze to the door. Several wooden servants filed into the room, sans creators. They began to clean up the mess, and Meladee kept her eyes on all of them. She held her magic gun and set it to a fiery spell. The servants worked, and Meladee waited. Alastronia would return after a relaxing bath, and they would attempt to fix Meladee’s puppet.

Like hell we will. I’m not fixing this thing.

Meladee set a fearful and hateful look on the ruined puppet. None of its compatriots even noticed the twitching thing. They left it alone and cleared only the debris from other broken items. Meladee let them.

Why do we need these things anyway? And, where do we get the right to give them souls?

Meladee marveled at the servants’ efficiency. They stripped the bed, swept up all the glass, and carted away every piece of broken furniture. They were smart. They did the tasks that maids, chefs, and landscapers would be too scared to do surrounded by Agaric Healers. Another plus – they were people who thought of nothing but work. That’s why the Agaric Healers needed and wanted them.

And, that’s why I’m done with this. Meladee rose from the ground. She paused to see if any of the servants would attend her.

They didn’t.

Meladee sidestepped a servant and crossed to her intact dresser. She opened the drawer and pulled out every piece of clothing, taking care to do so quietly. She knew that Alastronia and others could hear through the servants’ ears, though they probably wouldn’t bother in this case. Luckily, they had not perfected a method to see through the servants’ eyes.

Meladee found a bag and stuffed it full, rolling clothes to fit as much as possible. She didn’t want to leave anything of herself behind, not because she was attached to the things but because the Agaric Healers could make use of them.

In the end, she couldn’t fit a few of her items. She threw two trinkets out the window, and the shiny baubles landed in a marshy garden.

Good.

Meladee would have loved to perform a spell of her own to destroy the items, but inside the complex, Alastronia allowed only Agaric magic and only in designated areas. Other spells performed outside of those areas set off alarms. They would know what Meladee did. Within the complex, spells also tended to be weak, due to anti-magic wards. Some spells never came to fruition. Alastronia let Meladee’s earlier magic slide, citing it as self-defense.

What Alastronia didn’t know and wouldn’t appreciate was that Meladee possessed a magic gun. Since the gun’s cast time was instant, the weapon got around Alastronia’s simpler wards. Those wards had no time to locate and stop the gun’s magic. The only way to stop Meladee’s gun would be to forbid all magic, even Agaric. Too impractical.

Meladee closed the bag and wondered what to do about the last three dresses. During her time as an Agaric Healer, she’d bought them new. The dresses were too large and extravagant to take along. Meladee checked them over for hair and other pieces of herself. Satisfied they were clean, Meladee opened the dresser and hid one behind the drawers. It just fit, and only one drawer closed suspiciously. The new occupant of the room would probably think that the dresser was just old. Meladee hid the second dress inside the mattress boxspring. She cut a small hole in the fabric cover and pushed the dress deep into the wooden frame. Just as the puppets finished their task, Meladee stashed the third and final dress in a loose ceiling panel inside the closet.

She exited her closet to find her room empty, clear of debris and servants, except for the failed puppet. Meladee looked at the bed and saw that it too was naked. She didn’t even have new sheets. The servants would bring some soon. With luck they would not notice the damaged box spring. Meladee left the room.

As she hurried down the hall, she heard Agaric Healers in their own rooms. They talked about mundane things: shopping, dinner plans, and the male members of the order, who lived separately from them. No one even mentioned Meladee’s screwed up little servant or what it had done to her room.

To avoid the main entryway, Meladee made her way to a side door. She heard voices and peered into the hall. On benches by the door, sat a group of four women. They laughed and talked. Meladee retreated.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Why do these people have to sit right in front of the damn door? I’ll go the other way then, bitches.

Mealdee hurried for the back door, loathe to meet Alastronia. The woman possessed rooms at the front and would walk back to meet Meladee. Meladee preferred to avoid that encounter.

As Meladee approached the rarely used exit, very quiet voices reached her ears. When she peeked into the hall, Meladee found one woman and man talking. The man stood with his hand on the knob.

There are less than forty people living in this whole complex, and they’re everywhere I want to be! Fuck these people and their socialization. God, at this hour, I’d see fewer people on the Rime Breaker.

Meladee growled. She would have to use the front exit and pray that she did not meet Alastronia on the way. Meladee began the long walk to the building’s main entrance. Distant galaxies twinkled through high windows, too high to reach, but they gave Meladee a sense of comfort and escape. Still as much as Meladee wanted to stay nearby the unreachable exits, she headed toward the inner halls. The inner rooms were reserved for work, and at night, everyone wanted to play. They would avoid the interior.

Just as expected, the intersection of interior hallways remained empty. Meladee walked straight to the center and then walked forward. A storage room creaked open and closed, waving in a subtle draft that ran through the center hall.

Meladee closed the door, but not before she peered inside. She saw raw clay and prosthetic limbs, eerie and very life-like. She had seen the things used on patients, and once attached, it was as if the patient had never lost an arm or leg. Of course, the attending Agaric Healer had to paint the limb to match the patient’s skin tone, a permanent paint that could survive water and any manner of soiling. Agaric prosthetics were advanced compared to prosthetics provided by the average healer.

Then again, regular healers don’t use flesh and bone, stolen from people. How misguided of them. Meladee imagined an exaggerated and unflattering depiction of Alastronia as the speaker of her sarcastic thought. Meladee snapped the door shut and moved on.

She passed another open door. This one was left ajar to air out. The patient treated inside this room had to take a bath in a foul-smelling liquid. The coffin-like tub sat in the center of the room, empty but still putrid. Meladee did not know what ailment the bath treated, but she did know the patient came in with a perpetual, pained frown and left…

Well, still frowning because the payment was probably a beloved family member or pet, but he did look better. Meladee considered the treatment and wondered if the bath involved shit as an indispensable ingredient. What could shit do to heal you? Alastronia would know. She’d find a way to use earwax and soap scum.

Meladee walked by many closed doors, and finally, ahead, she saw the entry rooms. Unfortunately, the entryway was Alastronia’s sitting room, and if Alastronia finished with her bath, she would come straight down the hall. Meladee hoped that Alastronia was slow, distracted, or already on her way to Meladee’s room.

Meladee hurried forward and passed a case of masks. Every mask resembled the face of an Agaric Healer, and from the tops of the masks, cascaded hair: white, blonde, black, brown, and occasionally, a vibrant hue.

At the case, Meladee paused. She saw her mask, with its flaxen hair and empty eyes. Meladee pulled on the case’s handle. Never locked, it opened easily. From inside, Meladee pulled her mask. She held the empty-eyed face, hoisted her bag, and hurried down the hall.

She emerged into Alastronia’s sitting room and saw the front door. She crossed the lush, red, velvety room, glancing at a pair of doors in the side wall.

Once at the front entrance, Meladee tucked the mask under her arm, kept her gun secure in her right hand, and with her left, turned the knob.

“Meladee? Why are you dressed at this time of night?” Alastronia asked. A door clicked shut, probably the door to Alastronia’s bedroom and the bath.

Meladee turned around and pointed her gun at Alastronia. Then, she pulled the door open. “I’m leaving. But, before I go, you should know that I would burn this whole place to the ground, ideally with you sick fucks inside.”

Alastronia held her hands open at her side. “If you’re planning on getting help to do just that, don’t bother. This compound will be shut down before you return.” Alastronia studied Meladee. “Somehow, I knew you wouldn’t have what it takes. I knew you were weak willed, but I wanted to give you a chance.”

Meladee stepped one foot outside the door. “Yeah..thanks for that,” she countered with heavy sarcasm. “You are one sick bitch, Alastronia. And, someone will be able to find you.”

“I doubt it. You aren’t the first person to leave the Agaric Healers.” Alastronia still held her hands at her side and kept an eye on Meladee’s trigger finger, which applied barely restrained pressure. Alastronia nodded at Meladee’s arm. “Taking your mask I see. Very hypocritical of you.”

“I’m not taking it ‘cause I want it. I’m taking it because I don’t want to leave you any part of me.” Meladee kept a tight hold of her mask.

“Why don’t you just shoot me, Meladee?” Alastronia smiled. “I admit you’ve caught me off-guard. You could kill me.”

“I’m not going to shoot you because someday, when they arrest you, I’m going to be the goddamned executioner. And, then everyone will be happy when I give you the kind of death you deserve.” With a shrug, Meladee added, “Hey, they might even let me use some unorthodox methods.” Meladee scowled. She took another step out.

“I take it back. You have what it takes to be one of us, but only when you get angry enough. Go, Meladee. But, you should know that just because no one finds us, doesn’t mean we don’t find them.” Alastronia smiled.

Meladee ran out the door, across the front lawn, and into the neighboring town. Autumn leaves skittered through the streets, and Meladee ran. She ran past the old town library. She ran past the town hall and its simplistic columns. She ran past a row of cottages in basic hues of yellow, blue, and green.

No one would expect to find something like the Agaric Healers here. Yet, Meladee had.

Finally, she ran past the town guardhouse, not sure the lights inside would be helpful or friendly. She stopped at the small train station, and just as the station closed and the last train arrived, she bought a ticket.

Meladee got aboard and dropped into a seat. The train chugged forward before she got comfortable, and she put her bag next to her, closest to the window. The nearly empty car contained only one other passenger, an elderly Tagtrumian man. Like most aged Iruedians, his face was mostly unlined, but sharper in features, with thinner and less malleable skin. Once he raised his book, his shock white hair was all Meladee could see.

She ignored him and performed a very quiet spell: a small one-ringed circle of protection. It felt good to perform honest magic. She’d killed people with her spells before, but they had it coming. What’s more they knew they had it coming.

She held the mask in both hands and looked at her face. The replica was exact, minus the eyes, of which the mask had none. An Agaric Healer with sculpting skills had helped her make it. While the healer sculpted, Meladee enchanted, giving the mask the power and a mandate to come revive her if she ever died.

Meladee had met Agaric Healers revived by their masks. She felt that they lacked something.

That’s not fair. ‘Cause they all lack something.

But, the ones who had used their masks never seemed to smile right. They grimaced.

Alastronia had never used her mask, which was probably why she could fake a genuine smile so well. Like Alastronia, Meladee planned to do the same. Not fake a smile but avoid using her mask.

She wouldn’t do it by being secretive and prepared for every occasion. Meladee would avoid using her mask by not having a mask.

With both hands, Meladee took firm grasp of the mask and snapped it in half. A wisp of magic rose from the object and dissipated.

That’s good. That’s better.