“Mana. The ambient energy around us. All beings can interact with it; use it to strengthen their bodies and minds. But mages can bend it to our will and shape the world around us.”— A Scientific Treatise on Mages, Volume One.

The Second Ring District, Castera, Kingdom of Ilsylvania. Day -24.

Tyree stood with her back pressed against the wall, listening and waiting. The hallway was silent, save for three voices coming from the opposite end, each taking turns in a muffled, unintelligible conversation.

Tyree glanced around the corner. At the far end of the hall, the door furthest from her was cracked just enough to allow the soft flicker of candlelight from inside to create soft shadows that danced along the opposite wall.

Tyree crept through the door opposite her and made her way to the large white chest tucked against the center of the far wall.

A rush of cold air sent a stream of tears down Tyree’s cheeks as she opened the lid. She wiped them away and slowly lifted the package she had been after out of the icebox.

Prize in one hand, Tyree reached into her bag of holding and pulled out a gloved hand holding a flame red crystal. It took two taps on the edge of the icebox to get the crystal to begin glowing and radiating its warmth.

A third tap and the firestone’s heat intensified. The light released wasn’t overly bright, but she still glanced over her shoulder to make sure it hadn’t cast any obvious shadows into the hallway.

Satisfied there was little sign of her actions, Tyree went back to her task. She rubbed the firestone crystal back and forth along the bottom of the porcelain container. After a few minutes, she slipped the firestone back into her bag and pulled the container’s wrappings free.

The savory scent of the beef and lamb stew flooded Tyree’s nostrils and she smiled in ravenous anticipation.

A moan of pleasure escaped Tyree’s mouth the moment the stew hit her tongue. The broth was thickened just the way she liked it and the spices came together like old friends reuniting. It was a heaven marred only by the occasional bits of still cold stew that found their way onto her spoon.

A sudden shock of cold hit Tyree in the back, piercing her to her very core! She nearly dropped the bowl in an effort to keep from crying out. She turned and saw ALiyah, her hand glowing an icy blue with small motes of mana swirling around her fingertips like the flakes of a recently shaken snow globe. On her face was an expression that meant trouble. More accurately, Tyree was in trouble.

“This is your third bowl tonight! If you eat it all, you won’t have anything while we’re gone. Then what will you do? You’re a terrible cook, we both know this! Some days I can’t tell who’s worse, you or the twins.”

“Come on, Ali! You know I can’t resist the sweet call of your lamb stew. It’s my favorite dish! The flavors sing to me like a bard’s song!” Tyree made grand, sweeping gestures with her bowl and spoon as though she were playing in an orchestra.

Aliyah’s stern expression cracked as she let out an amused snort. She walked up to Tyree and planted her lips firmly against her own. At the same time, she grabbed the hand that held the spoon and squeezed, sending a fresh jolt of cold up Tyree’s arm.

Tyree recoiled and yelped, dropping the spoon. Aliyah took the bowl, replaced the wrappings, and set the container back in the icebox.

Tyree’s stomach growled and she crossed her arms in frustration. “You know it isn’t fair using magic! All I know are sword spells, I can’t exactly fight back!”

“Hasn’t Rhoda been teaching you the whip? I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” Aliyah flashed a coy smile as she sauntered into the living room and sat down on the couch, leaving Tyree a silent, blushing mess.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

It amazed Tyree how, even twelve years later, Aliyah could still silence her so quickly and effectively. She recovered herself and followed after her wife, slipping in beside Aliyah and laying her head across her lap.

Aliyah picked a book up from the table to her right and began reading. Tyree glanced towards the doorway where bags stacked nearly to the ceiling stood ready to be moved to Rhoda’s carriage in the morning. Tyree let out a long breath.

Aliyah closed her book and glanced down at Tyree. She had a scar that ran from her right eye to her lip that tugged it ever so slightly away from symmetric. It was a reminder of the dangers of their old profession as well as the strength possessed by the woman whom Tyree loved.

Aliyah set her book aside and ran her fingers through Tyree’s hair, scratching just above the top of her ear. “Okay, since you aren’t going to let me read my book, tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I wish you could wait six more days until my guard rotation ends.”

“You and Felt will catch our six day lead and you know it. That horse loves nothing more than being set loose on the road unrestrained. If the sickness running through Pella is as bad as Rhoda says, we’re going to need all the extra time we can get.”

Tyree crossed her arms and fixed Aliyah with a frown. “Just because you’re right doesn’t mean I want to hear it.”

Aliyah’s expression grew playfully grim. “Oh, it gets even worse. You realize you have bedtime duty every night for the next month when you get there, right?”

“Oh, a fate truly worse than death!” Tyree snickered. “What stories have you told them recently? I don’t want to repeat any.”

“You already know the only story they’re going to want to hear from you.”

Of course she did. The slaying of the great demon Azeban by the Guardians. The book sat on the table beside the one Aliyah had been reading, though Tyree could recall it entirely from memory.

It was a first-hand account from a soldier who had fought through that terrible event nearly a hundred years ago. The demon Azeban had broken free from its prison in the volcanic wastes in the far north in a region that had become known as Hell’s Mouth.

Azeban had very nearly brought about the extinction of the combined army of the dragons, Serethi, and human nations. It was only in that final moment that the Guardians had managed to reseal the demon back into its prison. It was a story of costly victory against hopeless odds that gave Tyree the chills every time she thought about it. That it had actually happened only increased that sensation.

“I don’t know why they only want to hear it from me. You should know it better. You were there when it happened,” Tyree teased.

Aliyah gasped in mock offense, grabbed a pillow, and hit Tyree in the stomach with it. “I was hardly a year old then!”

Tyree threw her hands over her face and stomach in preparation for the follow-up attack. “Did I mention how great you look for ninety-six?”

Aliyah was a Serethi Elf, ninety-six was hardly even quarter-aged compared to Tyree’s own thirty-five as a human.

That fact didn’t stop Aliyah from bearing down on Tyree for a second time, two pillows in hand, taking them both to the floor. “It’s too late for flattery! You’ll—”

“What are you two doing?” Rhoda glanced down at Tyree and Aliyah, her lips pursed in amusement.

“Having fun! You should try it.” Tyree threw a pillow at her friend.

Rhoda’s rogue-like reflexes were incredible. She grabbed the pillow and had it flying back at Tyree before she even had time to dodge.

Aliyah glanced down at Tyree. “And you’re not going to complain about her using magic?”

Before Tyree could get a witty retort out, an ominous purple light spilled into the living room from the windows, silencing all three women. Rhoda quickly helped both Tyree and Aliyah to their feet and they ran quickly to the front door.

People poured from their homes, talking in excited murmurs as they looked around. It was late in the evening, yet their entire neighborhood was lit up as brightly as midday.

Tyree’s gaze shifted upward. The largest of Terre’s moons, Diurne, had a white, crater-pocked western hemisphere and a sea of purplish-red crystal on its eastern hemisphere. That crystalline half was now shining so brightly, Tyree couldn’t stare without wincing.

As suddenly as Diurne had brightened, the light disappeared, plunging everything around them into a darkness lit only by the stars and candlelight coming from nearby windows.

Gasps and cries of panic filled the air.

A moment later, Diurne’s purple half returned to her normal soft light that pulsed in the rhythm of a slow heartbeat.

No, not normal. It was different. Dimmer and the pulse was slower, if only slightly.

Tyree turned to Aliyah and Rhoda, “Have either of you ever seen anything like that?”

Rhoda shook her head.

“No, but my parents did. One hundred and twenty years ago,” Aliyah answered, her face a mask of forced composure. “That was when the first Guardians appeared.”