Unlike most, Miradash did not have a childhood. Her earliest memory was a swift kick in the stomach to wake her for another day of labor. Her master stood above her with a scowl plastered on her face and his arms crossed.
“The sun is rising. Why aren’t you doing your chores?” He lifted his nose in disgust, “I want breakfast in two hours. Wake me up then.”
“Yes, Master!” The young girl struggled to her feet as she grabbed her throbbing stomach, “May I have some as well?”
“No.”
Until Mira learned to sleep lightly, most of her days started this way. She swept the floors, collected eggs from the chicken coop, and chopped trees for firewood. In the icy tundra of Vanora, the quaint home’s furnace and stove heated the house just fine. As her master requested, she placed his plate on the table directly in front of him.
The dark blue elf eyed them viciously before looking at the girl. Her choppy red curls barely covered her ears. He grabbed the hat on her head and ripped it off her as he stood. The brand on the back of her neck began to tingle in response to his anger.
“Why are these scrambled?” Isaan Naybellos sneered, “You should know I don’t eat scrambled eggs. That’s for children! Do I look like a child?”
She hung her head low and lifted her arms for her punishment. He fiercely gripped them and forced heat into his hands. The spell burned her forearms and she twitched at his grasp as his fire seared her skin.
“That is for the wait I will endure as you make my breakfast correctly,” He dropped her arms, “I will accept toast and jam until then.”
“Yes, Master,” The dejected child said as she went back into the kitchen to make a proper meal.
All her life, Mira trained. Her master forced her to learn anything he deemed necessary. All days she could remember, she started her day with typical domestic duties. When she was old enough to read, her tutoring began. That’s when she started to understand her purpose to her master.
“Now,” The young woman smiled, “What do we say in humanin when asking directions to the nearest temple?”
“Master does not believe in the goddess,” Mira titled her head at an awkward angle, “Therefore, I am instructed to not believe in the goddess.”
The tutor frowned and scribbled something down, “Okay… How about a market then?”
She smiled and happily replied with the correct phrase, “Please, point the to the nearest market.”
Her tutor clapped cheerfully, “Great job! You’re brilliant at humanin. Should we try orcin next?”
“Master does not think that anything less than fluent is acceptable,” Mira tucked a red curl behind her ear and thumbed through the book in front of her, “What are harder books to study from?”
“I will have to approve of them,” Isaan called from over his own book, “Take the tome of Saceida’s history. I expect a report in a week.”
Mira quietly moved from her seat and grabbed the book from his bookshelf, “How many pages would you like?”
“Up to the tutor,” He waved dismissively.
“That’s a really big book, Mira,” The woman looked over it, “I don’t know if you’ll be able to read this in a week.”
He slammed his book shut, “Child, did you tell the tutor your name?”
Mira felt the increasingly familiar burn at the back of her neck, “Yes, Master. She asked what she should call me.”
“Is that not her name?” The tutor looked at him.
He grabbed a letter opener from the table near him and handed it to Mira. She looked up at him in bewilderment. When he pointed to the tutor, the woman stood up.
“Kill her.”
“Master, I –”
She dropped the small knife and grabbed at the painful burning at the back of her neck. She felt the pressure surrounding her throat as she gasped for air. The vines of her brand circled around her throat as she looked at him in shock.
“That is a direct order. If you disobey, you die. Now, kill her.”
The tutor screamed as Mira clawed at the knife. Each step towards the woman caused the pain in her neck to subside. She clutched the letter opener in her hand and chased after the tutor. The door thrown open behind her did nothing to stop the child from chasing her prey down. Even in the blizzard outside, she would have to find her tutor. Tears ran down her face as she tackled the woman and repeatedly plunged the blade into her chest until the pain at her throat completely stopped.
Mira looked at the blood on her hands and the red around her. The once cheerful woman stared into the distance with lifeless eyes. Anxiety welled in her throat as she fell backwards into the crunchy snow. She rubbed the blood on her frayed shirt and shivered from the cold. She stalked back to his small home to find her master standing at the door with his arms crossed.
“Master, why?” She sniffled, “I liked her. You stated that she was the best in the region. Why command me to do that?”
“Pack my things,” Isaan sighed in frustration, “We have to leave now.”
“Please, Master Isaan,” She eyed the dead tutor, “What happened so I can prevent it from happening again?”
“You got too close,” He shook his head, “What if she told others about you? I do not want anything traced back to me. Now, pack.”
Mira twitched at the pain in her neck again, “Right away.”
“At least the snow will cover the body until we’re gone,” He smacked the back of her head hard enough that she saw stars, “Think next time, you absolute dimwit. I can’t watch you every second of the day.”
It would not be the last time Isaan ordered her to kill. In fact, every tutor after that one met their end once her lessons were completed. Mira learned to grow cold to her tutors and not give them any information. Her master seemed to encourage such behavior, so she continued to do so. Tutors for dueling, languages, and arts took up most of her designated childhood. Until Mira found her own magical talents and Isaan taught her himself.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
She followed him into the Agrowl desert where they set up camp in. She wondered why they traveled so far away from the city into the heat her master openly detested.
“Master, a question if I may?”
He pulled the sleeves of his robes up and snarled, “What?”
“If we are beginning magic lessons, am I to get magic?”
“You will, or you’ll die,” He shrugged.
She pulled the small dagger from her belt, “Very well. Can I spar if I am able?”
“No damaging me,” He huffed, “But I’m interested to see if you’re able to even touch me.”
She bowed, “Very well. I am ready.”
Isaan lifted his hands and a fire formed in the space between them. He swirled his hands around until it formed a sphere. She gulped and prepared herself in a ready stance. As the fireball kept growing, she gripped the necklace dangling at her chest. Her thumb ran over the smooth stone and the action calmed her. Mira took a deep breath and nodded at her master.
In the midday sun of the desert, Isaan exerted minimal energy to cast such a large spell. He grabbed the flame with one of his hands and pitched it at her. Mira concentrated on the quickly approaching orb and decided to treat it like any other weapon in her other lessons. She clutched the dagger in her hand and rolled out of the way as the wave of heat scorched her unkempt curls.
Isaan formed smaller, fist sized flames and hurled them at her. She gritted her teeth and rolled out of the way of them. Then, the back of her neck began to burn.
“Stop dodging!” He yelled.
The pain in her neck quelled her instincts. She eyed the ball of flame rushing towards her and did the only thing she could: swing at it with her blade.
A dark mist swirled around her and extended from her arm. It cut the sphere in half and the flame dissipated at either of her sides. In her moment of awe, she hesitated, and a ball of flame hit her in the chest. The smell of burnt flesh and singed hair travelled with her as she attempted to pat out the flames from her clothes.
The dark mist danced around her protectively as she fought off the flames. When Isaan had enough, he pulled out a fork tongued whip and lit it aflame.
“Now, magic and weapons. Let’s see how well you do.”
Mira huffed and took deep breaths but nodded. The exhaustion set into her body quicker than it usually did. She read about the side effects of over exerting magic. She tried to analyze how to use her new powers in a less strenuous way. As the whip bit into her skin, she screeched in pain and collapsed to the ground.
Isaan walked towards her with the whip drawn. She struggled to breathe and get to her feet. She never felt weaker. Her tiny body couldn’t absorb what it needed to fight back. She wasn’t strong enough for her master. She failed this lesson and be punished for it.
“Master, I—”
“Tired? Exhausted? Get used to it!”
The whip bit into the flesh of her back and she felt the blood run down her spine. She gritted her teeth and slashed at his ankles with her dagger. He stepped onto her hand and laughed.
“Well, it seems you weren’t in fact strong enough,” Isaan grinned as another flaming orb formed in his hand.
Mira took a deep breath and felt a cold embrace as the black mist surrounded her. Then, she woke up alone in the desert at night. Her body ached terribly, and her muscles were stiff. She sat up and looked around for her master. When she did not see him, she stood up and began walking back to his camp. Isaan sat outside of his tent with a glass of wine in one hand and a bleeding wound in the other.
“About time you woke up,” He hissed, “Now, come stitch my wound.”
“Yes, Master,” She bowed her head, “I apologize for the delay.”
Mira always wondered what happened when she lost consciousness but did not dream to ask. He cursed as she stitched his wound together. She placed more wood on the fire to fight off the chill of the desert night.
“Tomorrow, we will be seeing what exactly you can do with your magic,” He nodded, “I’d much rather you die, but I’m intrigued with what you might actually be good at. Start studying different forms of magic to see what best suits you.”
“Yes, Master,” She nodded, “May I eat?”
“I’ll allow it,” He gulped his wine down, “Make us both dinner.”
As she aged, Mira quickly honed her skills in weapons magic. She could not control the dark mist, but it enhanced her movements and thoughts. If she practiced in the desert, the mist could make her feel each particle of sand move. If in a plain, she felt each blade of grass bend with the wind. Every day, she felt the combustion of flame as she dodged her master’s spells.
Mira spent years perfecting her techniques, often falling to overexertion at the hand of her master. Hours, days, or weeks would pass before she awoke. Every time, Isaan would be nearby and waited for her to dust herself off before moving to the next location.
“If I can sense your presence, then others can,” He scowled, “You should be unseen and unheard.”
“Master, please tell me what I am doing wrong,” She fell to the floor with a light thud, “I tried to hide my footsteps as best I could.”
“Not good enough,” He slapped her, “How are you of any use to me if you get caught?”
Mira rubbed at her face with an offhand, “Are there spells?”
“Now you are using that tiny brain of yours,” He scoffed and reached towards his desk, “About damn time.”
She reflexively caught the book thrown at her, “Understood.”
“From now on, anywhere we go,” He narrowed his gaze, “You are not to be seen. You are not to be heard. You are to be a good little slave and follow directions.”
“Yes, Master,” She nodded, “Where do we travel to?”
“These Zrudian Mountains are filled with bandits,” He rolled his eyes, “I want you to take care of them before I settle there.”
“How many?” She tilted her head.
“You will find them and tell me after,” Isaan sat at his desk and waved a hand, “I do not expect to see you for another week.”
She bowed her head, “One week. Understood.”
Mira did not count how many lives she culled in that week. All she knew was her master was displeased that the number was not higher. Next time, it would be. Her purpose became clearer. Isaan wanted her to kill his enemies as quickly and silently as possible. She learned to soundlessly move through crowds, houses, and even her master’s own home to avoid detection. She knew this stealth came in handy for her missions. Though Isaan forbade her from popping out without announcing herself first, so as not to scare him.
Years passed before the face of her master’s targets no longer haunted her dreams. Mira numbed herself to the guilt of their situations. Whatever Isaan Naybellos wanted, she would do. That was her purpose. That was her duty as his thrall –his assassin. That was the life handed to her. She learned the only rule she needed to survive: Obey.
Once she finally grew into a woman, Isaan surprised her with a wrapped gift at the table of her master’s home.
“A gift?” She looked to him, “I do not deserve this.”
“The only one I will give,” He lifted a blue finger, “I expect you to use this if you are going to use magic, from now on. Your face is too recognizable by these putrid dwarves. I can’t have you get captured and ruin my plans.”
She pulled the ribbon and lifted the lid. A wooden mask sat gently in the box.
“Yes, Master,” Mira smiled softly, “Thank you for this precious gift. I am honored.”
“Your next mission,” He handed her a piece of paper with a name, “Kill him.”
“What does he look like?” She turned the paper in her hands, “There is no description.”
“Why would I tell you? You have his name. That’s all the information you need,” He swayed a hand to the packed city, “Find the man, kill him, and don’t get caught. That’s an order.”
Mira nervously held a dagger in her hands before looking up to the elf, “Yes, Master.”
“I will be at the inn. If you’re not back in two days, then you have failed.”
Mira twitched at the burning sensation at her neck as the branding took control after the command, “Two days. Understood.”
She opened the door of his new home and stepped into the crisp, mountain air. She took a deep breath and lifted the mask to her face. She jarred as it fused to her skin and her bones disjointed. Mira learned long ago that she wasn’t allowed to scream in pain. Most things did not even hurt her anymore –not after years of training to withstand whatever Isaan demanded she do. As she stretched, her arms seemed impossibly long, and her height nearly doubled. Instead of the auburn curls she knew, silky silver hair dangled from her scalp. She wiggled her fingers and the hands attached to her followed her thoughts. She lifted a hand and the black mist swirled around her arms and legs. Her master had given her an interesting gift. One she never thought she deserved.