Trinity of Magic

Viola’s eyes slowly opened.

Despite having just woken, not a trace of sleepiness showed on her face. Something had just tripped her [Windbarrier].

Her heart began to beat faster, but she forced her breathing to remain shallow and lay perfectly still.

The resting place she had chosen, the hollow of an ancient tree, was almost impossible to discover from the outside. Whatever had drawn close likely hadn’t noticed her yet.

But despite the advantage of surprise, there were more than a few things in this forest she couldn’t hope to match. She had even heard rumors of an Archmage going missing in these parts a few years ago. It had caused quite a stir at the time.

And if the intruder were something an Archmage couldn’t face, she might not even get the chance to run.

Viola’s eyes scanned the ground. Thanks to the way the shadows fell, she could look outside without risking being seen in return.

It had truly been worth pushing on for that extra hour last night, despite her tired body insisting that the gap in the ravine she had found was certainly good enough.

She knew all too well that good enough was what got more people killed than anything else. That was the thing about good enough. In nine cases out of ten, it would be.

But you didn’t die in those nine cases.

You died in the tenth.

You died when every possible thing that could go wrong did, when the worst possible creature surprised you at the worst possible moment.

Then she heard it.

Snuffling, accompanied by soft, careful footfalls.

Viola’s tense nerves eased slightly. These were not the sounds of a stalking predator.

Which meant...

The empty pit where her stomach should have been made itself known.

Ever since escaping from the fleet days ago, Viola hadn’t had a proper meal. The occasional fruit or handful of unripe berries was all she had been able to scrounge up while desperately making for the far side of the forest.

But now, with several days of travel between herself and the fleet, there was likely no need for such haste anymore. Nobody in their right mind would, or could, chase her this far.

Viola’s gaze sharpened as the creature came into view.

It had short, bristly fur, a thick neck, and tiny eyes. Instead of a nose, it had a short trunk, likely used to prey on insects. Its broad forelimbs ended in surprisingly sharp claws, but nothing about its shape suggested a predator.

Still, Viola didn’t act immediately.

She had never seen its kind before, and this creature was clearly accustomed to life in this dangerous place. That alone was reason enough to be wary.

Nothing here was harmless.

Viola closed her eyes and listened.

Was it alone? Or was it merely a scout for a larger group?

Several moments passed without another sound. When she opened her eyes again, the hunger was clear in them.

The creature trotted here and there, pausing to listen from time to time, until it arrived at a patch of ground not far from Viola’s hiding place. It began scratching at the earth with its claws, throwing aside clumps of soil until the color changed to a lighter hue.

The creature made a high-pitched burp that must have been an exclamation of joy, judging by the way it practically dove face-first into the strange burrow.

Viola watched it for another moment.

This was her chance. A creature would never be more unguarded than while it ate.

Gathering her Mana as quietly as she could, she prepared a spell.

A large blade of wind began to form in the air above, almost invisible to the naked eye.

Not enough.

Viola continued pouring Mana into the spell until she felt her Core ache. Only then did she swing her hand.

The blade descended like a guillotine.

It accelerated with every passing moment, still gaining speed as it reached the target. The execution was perfect, so much so that Viola could almost taste the coming feast.

But at the last moment, the beast whirled around, pulling its neck out of the path of the attack.

It didn’t avoid the blow entirely.

One of its legs was severed cleanly, leaving it with only three intact limbs. Somehow, the injury barely slowed it. It released a shrill squeal and charged away with reckless abandon.

[Windt?nzer]

Like a specter, Viola vanished from her hiding place. The spell, her family’s legacy, made her feel as though she had become one with the wind itself.

She appeared directly in the fleeing creature’s path.

It squeaked madly as it charged toward her, its tiny eyes wild with terror and pain. But even if they hadn’t been, it couldn’t have avoided such a perfect ambush.

Viola’s raised finger was nearly touching its forehead when the spell went off.

[Gale Bullet]

The compressed projectile sank into the creature’s skull almost without resistance. It did nothing to halt its momentum, forcing Viola to push off again.

The wind carried her just high enough to vault over the body hurtling toward her.

The beast took a few more steps, its nerves still firing without a mind to guide them. Then it stumbled and fell. There was no attempt to brace for the impact, only an awkward tumble of limbs that had lost all strength.

By the time Viola’s feet touched the ground, her prey had skidded to a halt, leaving a long trail in the dirt.

She continued to watch, another spell ready at her fingertips. She was reasonably certain that her bullet had pierced its brain, but that didn’t mean she would allow herself to become careless.

Even after several moments, there was no further movement, aside from the blood pouring from the stump of its severed leg.

Viola approached slowly.

There was a clean, round hole between its eyes. Through it, she could see a mass of gray mush.

Only then did she allow herself to relax.

As quickly as she could, she dragged the carcass away from the trail it had carved through the undergrowth, choosing a patch of bare stone beside a shallow stream. Blood attracted things, and Viola had no intention of discovering what it might attract here.

A thin blade of compressed wind formed along her fingertip.

She removed the ruined leg first, then opened the belly with a careful incision. Warmth and the heavy scent of blood spilled into the morning air.

Viola grimaced, but her hands never stopped.

Every scout in the Legion was supposed to know how to survive off the land. These had been among the few lessons nobody had allowed her to skip.

She was glad for it now.

After removing the organs, she inspected the carcass for strange colors, unnatural growths, or Mana crystals buried where they shouldn’t be. Finding nothing alarming, she peeled back the hide and separated several thick cuts of meat from the flanks.

Viola gathered a handful of dry wood, dug a narrow pit between two stones, and coaxed the smallest flame she could manage into existence.

Soon, the first strip began to hiss above it.

The smell nearly made her dizzy.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

She cut the best pieces into thick strips and skewered them on sharpened branches. Before long, the meat was cooked through, browned along the edges and dripping fat onto the stones below.

It wasn’t exactly a feast by civilized standards. There was no salt, no bread, no wine. Not even a proper plate.

Viola couldn’t have cared less.

After three days of nothing but scraps, the smell alone was enough to make her stomach cramp.

She settled onto a flat stone and placed one of the skewers across her knees. For just a moment, she admired it.

Then her [Windbarrier] trembled again.

Viola cursed under her breath.

So, the damn creature hadn’t been alone, after all. It would have been too good to be true.

But her grumbling didn’t slow her in the least. Wind wrapped around her body as she shot through the undergrowth, putting distance between herself and the camp before sharply changing direction.

She didn’t flee far. Instead, she circled around and ascended, using the thick branches of one of the ancient trees as cover.

Another disturbance passed through her barrier.

Then another.

And another.

Viola’s eyes narrowed.

Multiple intruders.

She climbed higher until the enormous crown swallowed her completely, then settled onto a branch thick enough to support a carriage. From there, she could see fragments of the forest floor through the overlapping leaves.

The first intruder appeared moments later.

Viola blinked.

A human.

Then another followed.

And another.

By the time the fourth stepped into view, Viola’s tension had changed entirely.

Mages.

The group advanced cautiously toward her abandoned camp, but there was none of the rigid formation of trained soldiers. Instead, they moved with practiced familiarity, spreading out without instruction while keeping one another within reach.

The last man sat atop a creature resembling an enormous lion, though a pair of broad wings lay folded against its sides. Its paws barely made a sound as it moved between the trees.

The second man was impossible to mistake for anything subtle. He stood well above the others, his body built like a slab of muscle someone had somehow convinced to walk upright. Pale bone covered parts of his arms, shoulders, and chest, growing directly from his flesh in overlapping plates.

Viola’s attention shifted to the remaining two.

A man and a woman, so attuned in the way they moved that Viola immediately suspected they were a couple. Heat radiated faintly from both of them, unmistakable even at this distance.

Fire Mages.

Not Feuerkranz, though. She knew the feeling of their Mana too well for that.

The woman crouched beside Viola’s little fire and held one hand above the embers.

”Still warm.”

The others immediately became more alert.

The large man looked around. ”Someone’s here.”

Viola remained perfectly still.

The Summoner dismounted and examined the butchered carcass.

”Recently,” he said.

Then the woman noticed the skewer resting beside the stone. She stared at it for a moment before sighing.

”Seems we scared someone away from breakfast.”

Her companion snorted. ”Could be watching us.”

”...Probably is.”

That earned a few glances toward the surrounding trees.

Viola suppressed the urge to move deeper into the leaves.

The Summoner reached beneath his cloak and produced a small metal insignia hanging from a chain around his neck. He held it up where anyone hiding nearby could see.

”We’re with the Mercenary Guild!” he called. ”We’re not looking for trouble!”

Viola’s gaze fixed on the insignia.

She recognized it.

More importantly, she recognized its color, and the markings worked into its edge.

Her eyebrows rose slightly.

Silver Rank.

Viola studied the four again, this time with a different eye. Their equipment was worn but well maintained. Their movements were disciplined. They came from different countries and different magical traditions, yet were accustomed enough to one another that none seemed concerned about leaving their backs exposed.

Everything about them suggested that they were exactly what they claimed to be. A genuine adventurer team.

That didn’t make them harmless. Mercenaries were loyal to coin by definition, and the insignia could have been stolen.

But if they had been sent specifically to find her, choosing four conspicuous foreigners from entirely different magical traditions would have been a bizarre decision. More importantly, their packs were full, their clothes suited for long travel, and several additional bags had been secured to the Summoner’s creature.

They were well stocked.

Viola, on the other hand, had nothing but the clothes on her back and a handful of coins hidden inside her coat. She had no blanket, no waterskin, no map, no proper knife, and no idea what had happened since her escape.

Even if they refused to sell her anything, information had value of its own.

Revealing herself was a risk.

Remaining ignorant and unequipped might be the greater one.

Viola stood.

The branch bent slightly beneath her feet.

Four heads snapped upward.

She stepped out of the tree’s crown and allowed the wind to catch her. Leaves whirled around her as she descended, coming to a halt in the air above them, close enough for conversation but far enough to escape if necessary—her preferred combat distance.

Viola crossed her arms beneath her chest. The overly large coat made the gesture look rather more comical than imposing.

”You’ve interrupted my meal,” she said, allowing every bit of annoyance she felt to flow into the sentence.

The four stared at her.

The large man’s gaze moved from Viola to the enormous tree she had emerged from, then back again.

The Fire Mage woman recovered first.

”Our apologies.”

Her companion looked down at the skewer beside the fire. ”If it helps, we didn’t touch it.”

”It doesn’t.”

The corner of his mouth twitched.

The Summoner still held the insignia between two fingers. ”As I said, we’re with the Guild. We are not looking for trouble.”

Viola’s gaze swept across the group, lingering briefly on their weapons.

They had relaxed slightly after seeing her. Not much, but enough to notice. Either they didn’t consider her a threat, or they were very good at pretending otherwise.

The bone-covered man folded his arms. The plates along his shoulders scraped softly against one another.

”If we intended to rob you, announcing ourselves would be a strange way to begin.”

”If you intended to rob me, you’d be disappointed.”

His eyes traveled over her oversized coat and empty hands.

”Fair.”

The woman elbowed him in the side. The bone armor made the gesture somewhat pointless, but he still grunted as though it had hurt.

Viola lowered herself until her boots hovered a few fingers above the ground.

”I have coin,” she said. ”I’m willing to trade.”

That caught their attention.

”What do you need?” the Summoner asked.

Viola turned to face him fully. It was becoming apparent that he was the leader of the group. ”A waterskin. A blanket, if you have a spare. A knife, a map of the surrounding region, salt, and anything else you can afford to part with.”

The Summoner stowed the insignia back inside his cloak. ”We have spares of most of that. No map worth selling, though. Ours is old, and we’ve made too many corrections on it to give it away.”

”I can pay to look at it.”

The group exchanged glances.

”That should be fine,” he said.

The tension eased by another fraction.

Not enough for anyone to put away their weapons, but enough for the female Fire Mage to begin checking one of the packs secured to the winged lion.

Viola finally allowed her boots to touch the ground.

The lionlike creature turned its head toward her. Golden eyes regarded her with unsettling intelligence, its nostrils flaring as it took in her scent.

Viola made certain not to stare at it for too long.

”He won’t attack unless I tell him to.”

”That isn’t as reassuring as you think.”

The man laughed. ”Fair enough.”

The woman returned with a rolled blanket, an empty waterskin, and a small leather pouch. She set them on one of the flat stones before opening the pouch to reveal a collection of basic supplies.

Salt. A needle and thread. A piece of flint. A small whetstone.

Viola crouched beside them, careful to keep the entire group within sight.

”Knife?” she asked.

The bone-covered man extended an empty hand. It did not remain so for long. The bone of his elbow lengthened in real time, and a gleaming piece of bone began to pierce through his skin. By the time it had fully emerged, it had already taken the shape of a well-balanced knife.

Grotesque as the sight might have been, the blade would likely outperform almost any knife produced by a common blacksmith.

He offered it to her hilt-first.

Viola didn’t take it immediately.

”You’re willing to give a stranger a weapon?”

”If you need that knife to kill one of us, we’ve already made several serious mistakes.”

Viola considered him for a moment before accepting it.

The blade was plain but well maintained, with a few shallow scratches near the tip. She tested its weight, examined the edge, then placed it beside the other supplies.

”How much?”

What followed was a brief but surprisingly ruthless negotiation.

The group had the advantage, and they knew it. Viola had coin, but no alternative source of supplies. In return, Viola pointed out every flaw in the offered goods, including several the mercenaries likely hadn’t noticed themselves.

By the end, both sides walked away mildly dissatisfied.

Which meant the price was probably fair.

Viola filled the waterskin at the stream while the mercenaries settled around the remains of her fire. They didn’t ask permission, but one of them added fresh wood, while another produced a small metal pot from their luggage.

Viola eyed the pot.

The female Fire Mage noticed. ”You can keep your meat. We have our own food.”

”How generous.”

”We already ruined your breakfast. Stealing it afterward would be rude.”

Her companion picked up the abandoned skewer and inspected it.

”Looks edible.”

The woman slapped it out of his hand.

”I said we weren’t stealing it.”

”I was checking.”

”With your mouth?”

”It is my most reliable tool.”

Viola retrieved the skewer before either of them could touch it again. The meat had cooled, but she had eaten worse.

...Much worse.

She took her first bite while standing several steps away from the group. The flesh was tougher than it had smelled, and completely lacking in seasoning, but the first mouthful still felt almost miraculous.

For a short while, nobody spoke.

The mercenaries unpacked dried meat, hard bread, and a bundle of shriveled vegetables. Viola tried not to look too closely as they dropped everything into the pot.

The Summoner unfolded their map across a flat stone.

Viola finished her first skewer before approaching.

The map was indeed old. Several roads had been crossed out, redrawn, or marked with warnings. Entire sections of the region were blank, while others contained handwritten notes in different inks.

She quickly located the mountains, then traced the route she believed she had taken over the last three days.

Her progress was less impressive than she had hoped.

Still, she was moving in the right direction.

”Are you entering or leaving Arkanheim?” Viola asked.

The woman sighed. ”Leaving. We were active there for a while.”

”Guild contracts?”

”Mostly.”

Viola looked between them. ”Mostly?”

The Summoner folded his arms.

”There was good work here once, especially if you didn’t mind doing some grunt work for the great houses from time to time.”

Viola nodded. She knew all too well that the four great families liked to delegate tasks they deemed below them to unaffiliated parties. Her own family did the same. ”And now?”

”Now there are too many uniforms and too few honest contracts.”

The bone-covered man grunted. ”Too many people asking where you were born, who trained you, and which side you’d choose if it came to it.”

The female Fire Mage stirred the pot. ”We’re no criminals, but we aren’t interested in becoming soldiers either. That leaves us with fewer opportunities than before.”

Viola examined them again, a certain glint in her eyes. These people appeared rather honest, relatively good-natured, and, most importantly, they were about to leave the country.

They were almost exactly what she needed.

Traveling alone made her memorable. A young woman in an ill-fitting coat, without luggage or companions, would attract questions wherever she went. But one more Mage among a group of foreign adventurers?

She might disappear entirely, especially if the others already possessed the documents and reputation needed to cross borders without much scrutiny. Even if she only remained with them until the next city, it would give her time to decide where to go.

Viola took another bite, forcing herself not to appear too interested.

”...Got a destination in mind?”

The mercenaries exchanged amused looks.

It was the female Mage who answered.

”The same place every other adventurer is heading right now.” The woman smiled.

”Tradespire.”