“If you can’t fight until your dying breath, you shouldn’t even bother signing up for the Orions.”

- Orion Graduate, Dunforge branch

I crept along the side alleys of Halistair as the final remnants of the storm fell away to the dense constellations of the night. They barely illuminated my path, but the frequent intervals of Everglow lamps along the main streets were enough to keep me from tripping.

Most of the time.

Stubbed toes as my only companion on those winding cobblestone streets, my feet led me down a path I knew better than the Valorian alphabet. The rooflines dripped with water and a few droplets snuck past my cloak and down the thick wool tunic I’d taken from Kaelin’s meager stash. A part of me wanted to shove it into my parent’s face as proof, but I knew in my heart of hearts that it was futile. It was technically a hand-me-down from my father, so they would only see me frantically trying to convince them of something they believed didn’t exist.

They couldn’t remember their own child.

My fingernails dug into my palms in frustration and I picked up my pace. I went around a sharp bend that led up some carved stairs and knocked on the window set into the unimpressive house at the top. A wooden slab above the door nearby swung slightly in the breeze and it blatantly lied to anyone who read it:

Burnam’s Masterful Enchanting

I scoffed as I waited. My leg shook restlessly as I leaned against the wall. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long. A familiar grunt echoed through the room that the window led into, and I chuckled despite my mood.

“Thea? What are you doing here? What time is it? Are you okay? Am I dreaming again?” Charles whispered way too loudly as he fumbled with the window’s mechanism to let me in. When it finally opened, I saw his flushed cheeks and cute face pop out to greet me. I flicked his head and he flinched back in mock pain.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You’ve been dreaming about me?” I responded coyly, ignoring his other questions entirely. I vaulted through the window sill and stepped into the musty room I knew to be my best friend’s only reprieve from his disgusting uncle. It was little more than a pantry, and they didn’t even have the decency to add a small bed around their storage. Every night, Charles slept amongst the food he wasn’t allowed to eat.

“More of a nightmare, now that you mention it,” Charles quipped back with a smile. My heart clenched slightly as I saw him finish pulling a loose brown tunic over his head. The various bruises that marked his chest and only ever his chest filled my bones with an old, vengeful, anger.

I schooled my expression and smiled back.

“You ready to do something stupid?” I asked him as he took in my cloak and pack.

“I—he’s been in a bad mood lately. I’m not sure how much I can slip past him right now.” Charles replied quietly.

“Let’s see if we can change that,” I replied coolly. Before he could stop me, I barged into the main room and walked straight towards the toad of a man who reclined by his forge’s dwindling fire. A bottle murkier than mud rested atop his impressive belly and one hand absently scratched at the exposed skin where his tunic ended. Repulsion and hatred filled every vein in my body, and it was all I could do not to spit on the man.

Thus, in a display of complete restraint, I only lightly kicked at the stool his feet were propped up on. Charles yelped in surprise but it was nothing to the bellow of shock and outrage Burnam expressed as his feet fell forward. The bottle crashed to the floor and spilled what little remained of his booze. His eyes were bloodshot as he squinted me, his hands reaching for whatever was closest to use as a weapon.

“What in the Valor’s name is going on? I will roast you on a spit for breaking me bottle like that, I swear on the gods’ old graves!” Burnam spluttered. He tried to get out of his recliner but failed miserably on his first few attempts. A bit of fear crept down my spine. Instead of cursing me out like I expected, his dazed expression sharpened into fearful determination as he fumbled with the pendant around his neck.

Three gems that adorned the gaudy necklace he never took off sparkled with light. Prismatic light shone through each of them in a kaleidoscopic display of color. I clenched my eyelids shut and turned away.

Charles was not so lucky.

His cry cut off abruptly as insidious magic took hold. Something else was going on here. When the light faded, I rushed forward and kicked, my feet finding purchase in his thick belly.

He fell back into his recliner with a crash of flesh and curses.

“You BITC—”

“What in the seven hells, Burnam?!” My words were clipped and short, betraying just how scared I really was.

“Why are you here, girl?!” He demanded.

“I was going to ask for your help with an enchantment order I needed to keep hidden. I have the coin, you paranoid toad! What did you do to Charles?!” I screamed back, rushing to clutch my friend’s limp hand.

He didn’t respond at all.

My heart pounded so loud in my ears I thought it would explode. Still, I rounded on the apprentice-class enchanter with fire burning out my fear.

“What did you do?!” I repeated. Burnam swallowed hard but hardened his expression.

“He will be fine in half an hour. Now, you mentioned coin?” The man tried to breeze over my question, but my suspicions were already raised.

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“It’s from a psychic, isn’t it?” My words were like a punch to the middle-aged man’s face. He spluttered and leaned forward from where he was still stuck in the recliner.

“I am a law-abiding citizen of Halistair, and I don’t appreciate you leveling such accusations on me, girl.” The rotund man drew out the last word like it was his final attempt at civility.

“A law-abiding citizen doesn’t have a pendant that enthralls people, you smug bastard. And that little necklace might make the hunters look into how someone like you acquired a mental enchantment. Now, I’ll pay for two of your piss-poor enchantments and I’ll be on my way, or I can inform the first Fisher I see of what I’ve seen.”

He rose to the bait.

“Now, my enchantments are far beyond whatever street corner rune you and your gods-damned family could ever afford. Now, you give me your coin and I’ll let this slide just one time. But insult me again, and I will see to it your house doesn’t survive the next surge!” Spit flew from his mouth as he finally got out of his chair. He stood up and waved his fists at me, each adorned with enchanted rings as potent as my bootlaces.

“No,” I responded, but I could feel my shoulders shake as he got within a foot of where I stood. This man was the origin of so much strife and pain in my life that tonight, of all nights, it was time to finally stand up to him, even if I couldn’t put him down like I often fantasized about.

“No? Well, little Thea, I am within my rights to seek compensation for your baseless accusations, according to Valorian law! And as you cannot afford the expense of my tarnished honor, I have no choice but to take it from you!” His meaty hands moved in a blur, faster than any man ought to. They dug into my arms and pinned me against the wall. Enchanting tools clattered to the floor from where they hung and I yelped in pain as several of them dug into my back.

Burnam licked his cracked lips and leaned forward. I screamed and fought against his grip, but I was no match for whatever hidden enchantment he had under his sleeve. Three rings along his clenched fists glowed a painful orange hue.

I was not prepared for this.

Terror at what was going to happen threatened to overwhelm me, but I had one last card of my own to play.

“I gave my father a letter for the Vaporclaws!” I yelled out right as his tongue was nearly at my neck. I leaned as far from him as I could, and my declaration halted his advance. Taking the opportunity, I slammed the threat home. “If he doesn’t see me by the morning, or I’m not in perfect shape, he relays that letter.”

Seconds passed. Painful, eternal, seconds.

My heart hammered in my throat as I waited for his suspicions and paranoia to get the best of him. His grip loosened and he backed up, but he didn’t let me go entirely. Boxed in, I could feel my life dangle along the knife’s edge. I met his gaze and let him see the determination behind my fear. I didn’t have to fake this part. It was an open secret that he had dealings with that murderous gang. If they knew that he had an enthrall charm, they would eat him alive. Or, more likely, they would have a monster do that part for them.

“What did that worm of a boy tell you?” Burnam demanded in barely more than a whisper.

“Nothing,” I admitted. “But my father knows people from his old division. Kill or harm me, and you’ll have your pick of Fishers or Vaporclaws to deal with. Help me with my enchantments, and no one has to know.” My confidence grew and I shoved his hands off me. He didn’t try to stop me.

“Spit it out, girl. You got thirty seconds before I gut you and toss your sorry remains over the wall.” His words were soft, but they were laced with enough venom to fell a mythic.

“I need my necklace reinforced with an unbreaking and distraction ward. Nothing fancy.” I shivered at the dark memory, but knew I couldn’t show any fear. Not now. My life, and my brother’s life, depended on me getting this scumbag to do what I asked.

Burnam scoffed.

“What?! This was your plan, you stupid girl?! Blackmail me—ME?! And for what, so your shite locket from mummy didn’t fall off or get stolen by the first pickpocket you see?” When I didn’t respond, the man spat by my feet. “You have no idea what game you’re playin’ in, do you? Coming here like this? I won’t forget it, you have my word.”

“So, you’ll do it?” I asked, ignoring his threats. I would be gone soon anyway, and the second he found out I was headed to the Orion division, he knew there was as good a chance as any I would die. And if I didn’t, I would be strong enough to make his life hell.

“Gods damn it, fine.” He drew out the last word like it physically pained him. “But if those Vaporclaws get word of my—ahhh—legacy item, you and your entire family are dead. All three of ya won’t see the next sunrise.” His promise landed harder than I expected, but not for the reasons he expected.

“They won’t,” I guaranteed.

“Good. Now, take off the softsilver trash you bought from a vendor and give it here.” Burnam raised a meaty hand expectantly, but I shook my head.

“No. You have to enchant it while it’s on me. And you can’t see the pendant,” I demanded. I tried to set my shoulders, but I felt like a leaf ready to blow away on the wind. He scoffed again, and I felt my heart sink.

“You really do have a death wish, don’t you? Take it off, or my tools will sear your flesh when I do the transfusion, you stupid twit,” he explained in a flat tone.

“It’ll sear then,” I told him resolutely. He waved his hands in frustration but turned to his forge and workbench. He kept muttering various curses about his rotten luck and made several flowery analogies to me and brothels I filed away to use later.

A few minutes later, he used his foot to kick his short stool back onto its legs and nodded for me to sit down. He carried what I assumed were enchanting tools, but as I hardly knew the first thing to the ancient trade, they could’ve just as easily been some torture devices.

“Hair, girl,” Burnam barked annoyedly. I swept my unruly locks away from my neck, exposing the lock mechanism for the necklace. “This’ll be hell, and I’m not cleaning up any messes, ya hear?”

I nodded.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention and goosebumps raced down my skin. Burnam lifted the chain slightly, and I reflexively clutched the amulet so that it would remain hidden beneath my oversized tunic. Heat approached my skin. I took in a sharp breath. I kept my gaze locked on the uneven ground of his workshop, my back and cloak now silhouetted by the light of his enchanting tools.

Then I felt it.

Alien energy crept across my spine, followed by the sound of sizzling and agony worse than even that blood siphon device. My spine stiffened and I let out a hoarse groan as the strange forces that Burnam harnessed to make my enchantments dug partially into my back. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but by the faint shaking I felt along the chain, his hands were not that of an expert crafter.

One slip of his etching tool and I would die.

I silently prayed that the threat of the Vaporclaws was enough to stay his hand, but I wouldn’t gamble a single copper on Burnam’s moral restraint. Ever.

Minutes passed, and the pain gradually reduced to something numb and empty. Sweat coated my palms as I clung to the edge of the stool for dear life. In front of me by the pantry door, my best friend stared limply at my slumped form. His uncle continued his steady barrage of whispered curses with each tiny stroke of his tools onto the thin silver chain, and so it came as a surprise when relief and silence arrived all at once. He stood up and backed away, already putting his tools away like he couldn’t even bear to assess his handiwork.

“Is—Is it done?” I asked, needing to know for sure.

“Tell your father his idiot heir did this of her own volition. Now, get out.”

I stood up slowly, but the room spun in ten different ways. I caught myself on a nearby table and waited for several agonizing moments as the worst of the nausea abated. I hobbled to the pantry door where Charles waited. I took his hand into my own and gently led him back into his own room. As quietly as I could, I closed the door. Before it clicked shut, though, I hesitated.

“Thank you,” I whispered into the crack that let what remained of the fire’s light inside Charles’ room. When Burnam didn’t respond, I closed it all the way.