{CATELINE}

I was half-conscious when the duo lifted me up by the shoulders and placed me on a horse. I sluggishly fell forward, arms loosely wrapped around the neck to keep myself balanced as it trotted away from town. There was nobody behind me, but my arms were firmly secured to the horse—tied down.

As I regained clarity, my eyes trailed around me, I saw nothing but gravel roads and thick clusters of forest. My lip puckered into a pout, and I pushed on the saddle to lift myself up. It was a clumsy move, but as soon as I was upright, the world stopped spinning.

The two strangers who’d saved me were escorting the horse, my hands tied to leather satchels attached at the saddle. I tugged at them, earning the attention of the handsome man. He turned over his shoulder with a cocked brow. “Ah, she lives.”

“But does she breathe?” his companion asked. My eyes shot to him, jaw clenching with this wide-eyed, terrified look when I caught sight of horns that sprawled from his head in two misshaped helixes. Loose curls fell from his head, twisting around the base. That wasn't the only thing hairy about him, as my gaze dipped to the exposed skin of his calf that was covered in hair, tufts of it tucking beneath his pant legs. He wore no shoes—in fact, he had no feet.

He only had hooves.

What in the hells?

“Of course I breathe,” I spat in his direction.

The man with horns smirked. “That fellow was right. Feisty.”

I grimaced and yanked on the rope that held me down against the saddle. “Where are you two taking me?”

The dark-haired one sighed and also took hold of the reins, ushering the horse to stop and turn. He spoke calmly. “You know where you’re at, right?”

I hesitated. Had the girl told me correctly? “Traburg.”

His brows furrowed, likely because of the question riddled in my tone, but he nodded. “Then we’re going right where you need to go.”

“Are you imprisoning me?” I asked quietly. I had been a prisoner to my family for some-odd twenty-one years. What was an eternity more?

He laughed. It was warm, genuine—like a song to my ears. “The only prison here is your mind.”

“And, if you're like me,” the one with horns said, “you don't have enough mind power for that to be an issue. This guy, on the other hand...all brains, no bite.”

Though he smirked, he made no remark in return. Instead, he nudged his head forward. “We are almost there. You’ll have your rest soon enough, blood witch.”

A shock of unease coiled around my chest. Was this generosity, or a trap? My eyes flitted to the ring still rubbing against my finger, pins and needles bleeding back at me in response. I closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing.

There was nothing distracting me from the subtle, consistent pain anymore. No fighting, no strife.

I wasn’t called a blood witch, a mage, back home, but I was a should-be, could-be, heretic. If people here found out where I came from, what crown I served, I could be colored a traitor.

These men seemed nice, but could I trust them?

As I turned my head toward the leftward horizon, I saw a castle tucked atop a small hill to the west. It was entirely made of obsidian stone, trees lining a winding path that led up to the entry gates. I had so many questions—notably, inquiries regarding the Prince of Traburg, though I would hold that card close to my chest. I had no proof that Roen was a prince at all, let alone the Prince of Traburg.

Time would tell.

“What are your names?” I asked after a fleeting moment of peace. I had to keep the conversation light, but filling...else I'd pass out right on this horse.

They both looked at each other before stopping at the gate that led up to the building I’d been eyeing from the merchant square. Not the castle, no, but important enough.

Muscles tensing, I clutched at the saddle at the rope that secured me. The horned man focused on the gate, his back still turned to me. “I am Thaddius, nomad by trade, satyr by birth. Hence the hooves.”

Satyr? I held back a laugh as he kicked his left hoof back, wiggling it around like a prize.

“I’ve never met a satyr before,” I whispered. When warm fingers grazed my wrist, I flinched and tore my focus from Thaddius to the other man. He didn’t pause. He kept on, untying the knot that held me down.

“Let us hope you never will again.” Thaddius cackled. “They are less charming than I, and not as easy on the eyes, I tell you.”

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I hadn’t torn my focus from the dark-haired man freeing my hand. His focus was glued to my fingers, the ring glistening against the sunlight that was finally breaking through the fading storm clouds. “Varin,” he muttered, just as he finished loosening the knot. “Varin Vanderbique. I trust you can unfasten the second rope.”

Varin… something about it slipped off my tongue like honey. Smooth, rich, tempting.

Unfortunate last name, though. I thought his full name sounded more like a riddle or rhyme than a legacy. Still, something about it resonated loudly. Pleasantly, even.

I watched him walk toward the gate, Thaddius’s wide-eyed stare following him with a slack jaw. As soon as I got the second knot loose, Thaddius joined me and offered a hand to help me down.

“Don’t worry about him,” he said and beamed. “He may look all fairy-tale, but he’s a donkey with the manners of one.”

I smiled subtly, accepting his hand and swinging my leg over the horse to dismount.

“What is your name?” he asked, grabbing the lead and guiding the horse up the hill.

I let out a sigh, my name falling off my lips long before I had any wits to me. “Cateline,” I said. It took everything in me not to curse.

Well, at the least, if Senevia’s family ran into them, they’d have the same name to go off of.

Now, I just had to find a stateless village small enough to avoid the Traburgian crown, but large enough to be believable. Should be easy enough?

“Well, Cateline, I cannot wait to hear your story. It’s not often we get a blood mage, you know. Runes, or no runes.”

***

We walked up a long path, mostly in silence. I noticed Thaddius making a few quiet remarks to Varin as they strode ahead of me, the horse left behind at the stable halfway down the hill. My eyelids were heavy and I desperately wanted sleep, but I knew I couldn't have it. Too much risk remained…

As we entered the building, my nerves only got worse. The old stone exterior was tall and covered in moss that reached all the way to the roof, but it was the inside that took my breath away.

The floor was slick with marble, iridescent lines running through it like veins. Columns lined the entry hall, each one adorned with beautiful statues in breathtaking poses. The ceiling was vaulted, with a sunroof that stretched the entire length of the room and allowed rays of sunshine to filter in.

But despite the beauty surrounding me, I couldn't shake off the sickening feeling in my stomach as I looked at all the people gathered here. They didn't seem to pay any mind to me, but I couldn't help but stare wildly at them. There were elves everywhere, and other creatures I had never seen before. In one corner, there was a group of colorful beings that added something magical and mysterious to the room. It was hard to tell if their skin was actually red, purple, and green or if they emitted an aura that made them seem that way. These people—whatever they were—had wings that let light shine through the translucent membrane.

I quickly caught up with Varin and Thaddius as they walked ahead, clearing my throat. I let my head hang forward. I felt exposed among all these strangers, even more so when considering the different creatures and backgrounds that I thought to be myth. Did any of these people come from Axulran? Were there portraits of me hanging in some royal hall outside of my kingdom?

No, of course not. My father never had a portrait painted of me, not even when I was a baby.

“Who are all these people?” I asked quietly.

Varin slowed his steps to match my pace, his head cocked in my direction. “You have no idea where you are?” he asked.

I swallowed and finally met his gaze. “Should I?”

There was something in Varin’s eyes—perhaps disappointment or surprise—as he replied, “Not many come here unknowingly, but even those that do know about this place. What did you say your name was again? Thad told me, but I can’t be bothered to remember.”

Thaddius’ ears perked up at this, and he turned his head to look at us.

A shot of embarrassment coiled in my chest at the blow. Of course he couldn’t be bothered. He didn’t know me. I was probably the biggest nuisance in recent days for him. “Cateline. And to answer your question Varin...I have no idea where I am or how I got here.”

Varin gave me a sidelong glance before leading us down the rightward wing. “Fair enough, Cateline. Let's see if we can get you some answers.”

A sense of relief washed over me. They hadn’t asked where I came from yet, but they were listening to me so intently. It felt good to be heard—but, in the same breath, it meant I’d need to be careful with my stories. At least until I trusted them enough to tell the whole truth.

As we approached double-doors adorned with intricate leaves and vines formed by thin gold, Varin stepped aside and gestured for me to enter, holding it open.

I reluctantly walked into the dimly lit office. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and trailed up the tall walls. Deep-set windows climbed from floor to ceiling and ended in a pointed arch. At that apex were three circles, stained glass flowers scattered throughout with a green border lining the perimeter of it all. At the center of the room was a large, mahogany wood desk a tree on both sides with impossible beads of light that danced throughout the branches.

As I looked around, I noticed a woman sitting at the table with her silver hair tied back into a braid. She reminded me of ice, but her hair and clothes looked softer than satin. She had slight lines around her nose, mouth, and eyes, but her skin was dewy and blemish-free. When she lifted her gaze to me, I saw impossibly golden irises.

Soon, a man joined her at the table. He had the same silver hair and golden eyes as the woman. Instead of her calm, confident demeanor, he paced anxiously behind her.

I’d never seen elves with such power.

“Thank you, Varin, Thaddius,” the woman said without taking her eyes off me. “I will find you two later."“

Varin hesitated before bowing and leaving the room. I felt just as confused as he looked. This woman looked at me as if she knew me.

“Princess Cateline,” she said with a wise and gentle smile, “I have waited a very long time for your arrival. I am the Headmistress, Leolina.”

My breath caught in my throat and I took a step backward. How did they know who I was? I twisted to look behind me, hoping the other two were out the door and far enough from earshot that my ruse was not already ruined.

The man named Jaspar joined her side and bowed his head before smiling. “And I am Jaspar. Consider me the kingdom’s glorified spy, Your Grace.”

“I am so happy to finally welcome you to Lighthelm Academy. We have much to catch up on.”