Page 20 of The Starlight Savior

Nothing.

“I still don’t understand what that has to do with me. I can’t help you with something like that.”

“You underestimate yourself. You’re wondering how we found you, correct?”

Saige nodded weakly.

“When I saw you outside of the tavern, I didn’t know you were the witch we were looking for.” Conor paused as he watched her flinch.

She couldn’t help it. Although she knew what she possessed was considered magic, she still resonated with the idea of being mortal. It was the simplicity of her life. To hear such a label, almost an accusation, was foreign.

“I was being truthful when I told you I was sent to Brevil for a job. Our army was tasked with finding a certain focal point for a large usage of unusual magic. That led us right to your little village. But you…a handful of us were trusted with a single name to search for as well. Saige Nerestel. Living in Eastern Brevil. It was pure luck that you ended up stumbling into my arms, in the very village we were already searching.”

“How inconvenient for me,” Saige murmured.

Conor turned his body towards her, dipping his head so their eyes could meet. At the tavern, she had noticed how strange they were. A bright silver with flecks of lilac. They were so out of place, how didn’t she know he was a warlock? “You’re incredibly uncomfortable with this concept of magic, aren’t you?”

Looking away, she urged her body to relax. Each mention of magic, warlocks, and witches left her feeling restless. The fear that flowed through her body was years deep, ingrained in her when she was born and heightened when she saw her mother and father fall.

“I have no experience with magic,” Saige admitted. “You have a whole kingdom of witches and warlocks. I don’t understand why you’d need me.”

“Over time it’ll make more sense,” Conor reassured. “But what we tracked…your magic is rare. One that isn’t currently found in Etrane.”

“You keep saying that as if I know what you’re talking about.” Saige scowled. “Brevil fears even earth-wielders. You expect me to understand what unusual is? Magic is exactly what you brutes did in my village. Lightning and rain. Magical shields and enchanted weapons.” Her pointer finger landed on her chest. “I have done no such things. I am sick, and I explode, and I cannot control it, which is how I ended up here.”

“Do you know what magic is made of?”

“Yes—”

“No, I don’t think you do.” Conor’s words were sharp as his fists clenched the blanket upon the bed. “Magic is not just made up of the visible world around you. It is not just the storms in the sky or the water flowing in the streams or fire in the earth. It is the energy that makes up every life force in Opela. What you claim makes you so sick, that you cannot control, it is energy. The very thing that is draining our world’s land of life is energy. You may not like that you have magic, but if you’re going to help Opela, then you better start thinking more positively about yourself, or else it will continue to consume you until you are nothing but a shell.”

With each word, he leaned closer towards Saige. Under normal circumstances, she would appreciate the bluntness in the way he spoke. Like Althea. Although her friend was much kinder with her words than the ones that left Conor’s mouth. The tavern was an exception, of course.

“And if I have such rare magic, why take me to Etrane? Couldn’t I have helped in Brevil?” Saige pushed.

“Do you think your kingdom would’ve utilized you as a resource? Or would they have hung you in front of the village you grew up in?”

Her jaw tightened, a flash of her parent’s bodies falling to the floor. Conor was right, though she didn’t want to admit it. If her curse, magic, could help Brevil, would they have used her? Or made her out to be the monster she believed she was?

“That’s what I thought,” Conor said in response to the darkness clouding her sapphire eyes.

“Why should I trust you?” she blurted out.

He smiled softly, leaning in closely to her. “Because I don’t think you have any other choice.”

Chapter 10

Conor ran a glowing finger along the metal shackles. A chill traveled down her spine as his skin brushed against her ankles and wrists. The weight dissipated as Conor’s magic faded, the chains tumbling to the ground. But the cuffs remained, biting into her skin. “What about these?” She raised her hands.

He shook his head. “Not today.”

“Why not?” Saige pushed, panic beginning to clutch at her throat. “What are they for?”

“May I?” Conor asked softly, a hand lingering over the metal.

Saige nodded hesitantly.

His hand gently reached for her wrist, thumb rubbing against the metal. He moved her arm to where the firelit sconces revealed marks carved into the cuffs. “See these sigils? Each of them have meanings.” He pointed to one, a single symbol with a swirl on each end. “Protect.” His thumb trailed to another with two jagged lines crossing over. “Mute.” And the final one. “This one is heal. Magic can be weaved into just about anything. It just requires the right skill.”