Page 2 of The Starlight Savior

Before Saige could protest, Althea’s arm tightened around her. She tried to tug her arm away, but Althea’s grip tightened, her smile growing more weary.

All she could see were bodies in every direction. She searched for the familiar sight of a silver braid or a tan wrinkled face. But her caregiver, Judith, was lost in the clamor.

Defeated, she turned back towards the platform.

All she needed to do was get through this meeting without damning herself.

The priestess’s jaw tightened, wrinkles emerging across her forehead. Placing her hands behind her back, she stepped in front of General Kadence. Sunbeams illuminated her circlet, the blue sky bright behind her.

“Famine dominates our powerful neighbors, yet no amount of magic can save them from the mist’s wrath.” Priestess Norma’s face softened as she smiled at the men, women, and children she blessed each day. “With our prayers and efforts, our God empowers us. We will persevere.”

General Kadence cleared his throat. Priestess Norma took a step back, allowing the attention to divert back to him.

“There is one last thing,” the general said. “Being a magicless land is what keeps us safe. The mist feeds off power, the corruption of the soul. Opela’s disarray is evidence enough that such magic was meant for our blessed deities only. King Brennus will not only continue to monitor any threats of magic, but increase security.” Spit flew forward as the general spoke, mouth contorting into a snarl. Veins bulged from his clenched neck. “Any witch, warlock, or mortal associated with magic will be executed on sight.”

He pulled a glass vial from his pocket, uncorking and holding it out for the crowd to see. Tipping it forward, the general watched the red liquid fall to the ground. “Wielder’s blood is an abomination. We offer this sacrifice of power to Terrus to continue protecting our land.”

All too quickly, the heat and energy in Saige’s palms encompassed her. It traveled up her arm, flowering across her chest. It pulsed in her veins, her head, her feet. Everywhere her blood might flow. The air around her was stale and sticky as her chest burned.

Calm down, she told herself. But the general’s words kept ringing in her head, echoing into her skull. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the blood dripping down the wooden platform.

Spinning on her heel, she ripped free from Althea’s grasp. Saige paid no attention to the confused and annoyed faces around her as she pummeled forward, pushing through the crowd as fast as she could. In the distance, Althea called after her. But Saige never turned around.

“Thank the Gods they’re finally doing something about these damned wielders,” shouted a full faced woman beside her, a clenched fist raised in the air.

“The king isn’t just feeding us,” another man declared, his skin tanned with sunspots from days in the scorching fields. “He’s providing us jobs too!”

Saige’s stomach clenched as she fled towards the outer edge of the square. Brevil was made up of cowering mortals, and the rare bloodlines with miniscule amounts of earth magic remained hidden. Their kingdom was perceived to be safe, the only threats coming from fists and steel. They never believed a witch or warlock could hide in the shadows.

The people of Denholm had never been touched by the horrors of magic, no matter how afraid they appeared.

But it lived inside Saige everyday. Waiting until she was finally weak enough to let it consume her.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Saige’s vision blurred as she flew through the door of her quarters. Slamming the door shut, she bolted the lock tight. A single window was already sealed with a wooden plank placed over it. The pitch black room illuminated from the light slowly seeping from her hands.

Collapsing to the floor, she curled her body inward. Saige’s fingernails dug into exposed skin. It was rare for an outburst to get this bad. But when it did, there was only one way to release it.

Cool metal bit into her skin. Judith had removed most of the wood panels after too many scorched handprints painted the ground. Arching her back, she placed her burning hands against the metal. Light flooded the room, so blinding, she lowered her face and bit down on a scream as pain flooded her. Her hair stuck to her cheek, slicked with sweat and tears. There was not a single inch of her body that wasn’t illuminated, unable to control the power unleashing from within. All she could do was let it out when it got too much, channeling it into the metal before it consumed her.

As quickly as it began, Saige’s body deflated. Darkness enveloped her as the light retreated. Using all her strength, she crawled to her bed before her eyelids fluttered shut. Sleep often followed an outburst of magic.

Yet it was never restful.

Memories were brought forth from the heat in her veins. Sharp edges that cut deep in her mind, as if the sight of her searing hands sent her tumbling back to childhood. Tears fell down her cheek until her chest throbbed. It was as if she was always reliving the beautiful, yet painful, moments of her greatest losses. She’d imagined returning to the garden with her mother. Or helping her father cook.

But the visions would fade until all she could see was the final moment with her parents.

Bright burning light. Her mother and father shoving her under the bed. A man in uniform barging through their front door. A wolf pouncing on sheep, white teeth bared. His face was reddened, crooked nose scrunching, as he spoke the words she’d never forget.

You are being tried for the usage of magic.

Yet they hadn’t been pointing to her, the dark haired girl curled up on the floor, light dancing in her palm. Instead they looked to her parents. When they didn’t surrender, the soldier had unsheathed his sword. A spray of blood accompanied her parent’s final cries as Saige sat frozen under the bed.

She was just a child when she fled her home village. For days, she hobbled down dirt roads, slept behind bushes, and sipped creek water. Yet when she stumbled upon a beautiful garden, her mother’s lessons in virtue became irrelevant. Starving, she was awestruck by bursting tomatoes and plump grapes hanging from vines. Sweet carrots rose from the dank dirt. It was pure luck she avoided the consequences of stealing from someone’s land. The gardens belonged to a gracious woman who was willing to care for her when there was no one left.

Yet with the general’s presence and the risk of magic increasing, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was all about to fall apart.