How many times had he been here, on the brink of death? He had expected pain, but there was none. A silent sting of the blade and his neck was split open, just like that. Taking a life was so disgustingly easy. So effortless. Leylin’s magic got to him a breath too late, pulling the dagger away. The blood spurted from his throat like an open dam, and his whole body felt cold. Yet as he died, he felt more powerful than ever before. He had mattered.

"You crazy bastard."

Rane blinked and Leylin was leaning over him, palming the wound to stop the bleeding. It was far too late, couldn’t he see it? He'd die and Leylin would have no more use for the slaves. What was he trying to do?

"Cartilage. Nerves."

Rane had never heard the words Leylin mumbled, didn't understand them. He saw the man’s arms bulge and grow, veins darkened and sickening. Foreign magic pumped inside him, calling forth a searing pain. He could feel the warmth of life returning and his head clearing.

"Arteries. Veins."

Something vile writhed inside, mending his body. Movement returned to him and he tried to struggle free of Leylin's grip. "Let me go!" He screamed through a clenched jaw. "You can't deny me even death!"

"Your muscles and skin are last." Leylin lifted him up by the neck only to slam him down once more. "I won't stop you again, but I can promise you this; If you die, they will all die with you." Leylin stood and blocked out the sun, like a giant, looming shadow. "Not just the other slaves. Your parents, your siblings, your friends. Everyone you ever cared for. Everyone wiped from your mind. I will find them all."

For the first time in his life, Rane felt empty. There was no anger, no regrets, and no sadness. The strength to resist left him as the strength to live returned. His hand found his throat. There was blood on his skin, but nothing else. Magic like that… It shouldn’t be possible. It defied common sense and everything he’d been taught. He realised then that resisting Leylin would only cause more carnage. No sane person would fight against that man… that impossibility.

“Do you understand?” Leylin demanded.

“Yes,” Rane replied, without looking up. For now, staying silent and obedient while looking for a chance would be the way to save the most lives.

“Everyone inside!” Leylin hollered the order. His robe fluttered as he made for the hauling beast.

Rane pushed himself up with trembling knees and returned to the cage, seeking shelter in its shadows. The slaves threw curious stares his way, but dared no more than that. Perhaps that was for the best. The less contact they had with him, the safer they’d be.

“Are y-you okay?” Elen sat beside him as the wagon begun to move. “I only heard Leylin yelling.”

“I’m fine,” he replied. More than fine. It’s like I didn’t even just cut my own neck. He shivered a little as he remembered the pain, as well as the magic that drove it away. “Listen, Elen. This is all happening because of me. It’s me Leylin wants. To stay safe, you should keep your distance, at least for a little while.”

“N-No! I want to help you,” she protested. “I can be useful…”

“I know.” Rane motioned with his hand to quiet her down. “You can help me right now,” he whispered. “Make sure the rest are ready to leave on a moment’s notice.”

“What about y-you?” she asked.

“Just don’t stick too close to me,” he replied. “It will be dangerous.”

“O-Okay,” Elen said, slightly disappointed. “Stay safe.” She stood and went to sit beside Shill, listening to another one of the old man’s stories.

Rane would have tried to listen in on it too, but as he sat with his back against the bars, he felt something slither inside him, dark and nauseating. It ran up his chest and along his arms, as if ghosts trailed their fingers over him. Part of Leylin’s dark magic remained in his soul, slowly becoming one with his own.

Just like Sydell’s nora.

He tried to draw the new power forth, but then he stopped, interrupted by a whisper. He looked around. Most of the slaves had surrendered to the heat and everyone other than Shill had fallen silent. The whisper sounded again from inside him, loud enough to be heard but too silent to be understood.

Rane reached for the darkness inside him, separated the foreign magic in his soul and pulled it out. The strands of darkness formed into a little girl’s visage. Her translucent, silvery skin shone with radiance no other slave seemed to notice, and her eyes were dark and hollow, smoldering with dark fog.

"Leylin?" Her voice spoke inside his head, brimming with innocence.

"No, his slave." Rane whispered back. Had he truly gone insane? First it was only voices, but now he was seeing things as well. “What are you? A ghost?”

“Only the fragment of a soul now.” She tilted her head and frowned.

He could feel the torment radiating from her, the pain she must have suffered. “What happened to you?”

"I was taken from my family." Her face hovered a hair’s width from his. "Just like you.”

Rane felt his blood run cold, anger swelling inside. There was some joy to thinking he was the only one to suffer this fate, some salvation. But now even that was taken from him. “Why does he do this?”

“He covets our power,” she said, form flickering under the sunlight. “Those of us who could understand emotion have always suffered such a fate. Many died by his hand.”

“Why does he keep me alive then?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. Nora is born from emotions, and those with the gift to harness the magic of others for themselves are rare. Tens among billions, they say. Always empaths.”

“You’re like me…" He reached out for her and she floated away from his touch.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“I was, but now you took me from Leylin using that power. You saved me from that place of darkness.” She forced a smile on her face and the light that she was flickered. “Thank you.”

“Please stay,” he said. There were so many questions he wanted to ask her. So much he wanted to know.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “but my pain is over.” Her voice lowered and her form grew dim, a mere outline of what she once was. “You have to run from him,” she whispered. “Run, run, run, until he cannot reach you.” The last wisps of smoke dissipated, and she was gone.

What little solace he felt from freeing her paled to the thoughts of what she’d suffered under Leylin’s hand. And what Rane would suffer in turn. His hands grasped the scorching bars. There were always chances to run, to slip under Leylin’s nose and vanish in the vastness of the desert. With the water made with his magic, perhaps they could survive, but at what cost?

He glanced at the remaining ashfen and knit his brows. No other person he’d ever met would even bother with this ragged bunch. So why did he? What was it that made him so damn unwilling to let even one die? Stubbornness, perhaps. Whatever the reason was, it only served to eat away at him.

Rane lay on his side awkwardly, the width of the wood not enough for him. He watched the desert pass them by in silence. Silence that lasted minutes, then hours, then days. During that time he’d make water for the ashfen to drink, and they’d exchange meaningful glances. Elen carefully spread the word to those she trusted. They were lucky it had gone so well thus far. Even Kuo and the ashfens that stayed silent looked at him in a different light. In truth, he had no idea if this would work. It’d be easy for someone to get restless with thoughts of rebellion or overwhelmed by fear. And if Leylin caught wind of what was happening, who knows what he’d do?

The man had said they were a fortnight away from Danira, but Rane had no way to know how close the nearest city was. To have a chance at survival, they’d need to move at night and find shelter before the next noon. Rane tried to sneak some sleep in whenever he could to preserve his strength and be ready, but the violent sandstorms came and went in sudden bursts, interrupting what fitful sleep he got. Sometimes there’d be slaves missing from the wagon when he woke. He tried not to dwell on it, but the thought was always there, lingering.

The weather mellowed out as the moons passed. Days became milder and nights warmer. Leylin would often give the slaves time to shuffle around and relieve themselves while he scribbled away at a notebook. He would look up at times, observing, before sinking back down. Of the twelve or so adult slaves, only eight remained. They were unwilling to talk much, not just to him, but even to each other, as if their fates hinged on staying silent. Rane could tell everyone’s patience was wearing thin. Seeing Leylin distance himself, Elen and Dall approached him.

“How much longer do we have to wait?” Dall hissed. “We’re past the blazing desert already, so there’s got to be somewhere we can reach within the day. Right, old man?”

“No clue,” Shill said. “But I trust that the aspects will guide us.”

“How are we even going to get past the bars?” Rane asked. “Leylin lingers too close whenever he lets us out.”

“You’re the mage,” Dall said. “Keep him busy long enough, and we can sneak away.”

“No!” Elen rejected the idea. “If we’re leaving, it’s gonna be t-together. No one stays behind.” The others nodded in agreement.

“Dall’s right,” Rane said. “Leylin needs me. Even if I manage to escape with you, he’ll never stop chasing us. No, it’s best if I stay behind, for all of your sakes.”

“But Rane!” Elen looked at him, fumbling with the words. “What will h-he do to you?”

“Nothing you can stop.” Rane gave her half a smile. “It’s okay Elen. At the very least, I know he won’t kill me.”

“Shh!” Kuo pulled his head from between the bars and hurriedly sat. “He’s coming back.”

Rane gave Elen a meaningful look after the conversation was cut short. There was worry in her look, but she seemed to understand. Now wasn’t the time for loyalty.

Leylin finally reached the cell and rounded it once, observing them in silence. Rane kept his eyes trained on the man all the while, fighting off the dizziness it caused.

“Bread,” Leylin said, paying him no heed.

The slaves gathered on one side of the cell and reached with their hands through the bars for their portion. Despite their smaller numbers, they remained the same. A small, dry loaf for each one.

"Do you hate me?" Leylin asked when he got to Rane.

"Yes." Rane reached through the bars for the bread. "Do you care?" He tried to remain calm, to not betray any emotion.

Leylin laughed. "I might. Not many people could do what you did. Sacrificing yourself to save the lives of others is a noble choice."

Was this another test? When Leylin wore that smile he seemed a different man, incapable of the anger and madness he had shown before. “Your sympathy won’t do me any good,” Rane said, digging his teeth into the loaf. Much to his surprise, it was warm and soft inside. It tasted like actual bread instead of dry paper.

“It’s not sympathy, but respect.” Leylin opened the door to the cell. “Come,” he said. “I want to talk.”

Rane swallowed down hard. This couldn’t be good. He passed the remainder of the loaf to an ashfen boy, then lowered his head to exit the cell. "Your respect can't bring back the dead."

"My respect can't feed the hauling beast either. Death is a necessary part of life, you know?" Leylin placed a hand on his shoulder and led him outside. "What makes their lives more important than the beast's anyway? Is it their intelligence, their age, or the fact that they've suffered? What determines the worth of each life? "

“Didn’t think you were the type to like sophistries." Rane subconsciously lowered his shoulder free of Leylin's hand, shivering.

The front of the wagon was little more than a wooden board fixed to the cage. Two poles were attached to its sides, tied with rope that vanished beneath the hauling beast’s fur. Rane gripped the wood with both arms and struggled to pull himself up. The months he spent starving showed in his thin, branch-like arms. He half-fell on the stage driver’s seat and crawled the rest of the way.

“Your thoughts intrigue me.” Leylin picked up the reins and hopped on next to him. “Perhaps there's more than childish naivety inside your head." He tugged on the reins and the beast began its march.

"Fine, I'll go along. What about the soldiers Sydell used to test me?" Rane asked. "Were their deaths necessary?"

Leylin stared ahead at the mountains that filled the faraway line of the horizon. In the distance, the ruins of a crumbled castle poked out of the sand like a rocky islet in the midst of a red ocean. "Yes," he said. "Because I deemed them so. Two dead are nothing compared to the lives you'll save."

Rane gave the man a sideways glance. “You’ve taught me magic, and you’ve taught me to kill. The saving, I did all on my own.”

"And it’s admirable," Leylin said. "We're somewhat alike, the two of us."

The thought alone made him wince. "I don't see how."

"We both fight for what we believe is right." Misty darkness gathered around Leylin as he spoke. It swirled and intertwined like smoke. "Yet I can see the grand scheme of things, and I'm much, much more desperate."

"I can believe that last part," Rane replied. "Why else would you pick me to fight in a war? I can barely cast two spells."

Leylin shook his head and sighed. "You'll understand your role soon. There is something only you can do." He tugged on the reins, earning another grunt from the hauling beast. The sluggish creature turned to the left and set course for the faraway ruins. "This peace is a lie that won't last much longer. Nothing in this world changes without bloodshed. That's how it's always been. As for your training in magic, you haven't even scratched the surface.”

If magic meant chaos and death, then that suited Rane just fine. He laid back on the fabric that separated the seat from the bars and didn't reply. The desert grew greener the more they neared Danira, with low vegetation and the occasional trees sprouting from the sand. The agonising speed of the hauling beast meant the journey for the nearest palm tree reached late into the afternoon.

“Eat up and recover some strength.” Leylin pulled the beast into a halt and handed him clean water and some fruit. “You’re gonna need it.”