As his staff swung forward, Sedgewick morphed his magic into a fireball and sent it hurdling toward Bilara. Heat seared the air around them as it crashed against Bilara's ward, utterly ineffective.

"My, my. That wasn't nearly as impressive as it usually is." Bilara twirled her staff in her hands before whipping it forward, sending a small blast of black magic flying towards him.       

Sedgewick's ward flickered to life seconds before the spell crashed into it. The spell hit with a sizzle, sending pain jolting up his arm as it ate through his meager defenses.       

Sedgewick's eyes widened in panic as his heart skipped a beat. He was too late! The curse had been given too much time to sink in! Defending himself from Hobrin and casting that spell for Beryn had sucked away his remaining strength. His head began spinning as the towering walls around him seemed to shrink as if they were closing in on their prey.   

Helpless.       

Bilara laughed and fired off another blast. Not even attempting a ward, he--he dodged to avoid being hit, rolling out of the way before scrambling back further. Distance. He needed distance.

Hopeless.

NO! He clenched his staff in his hand and summoned every last ounce of magic he could muster. Pain laced through his body as if molten metal had been poured into his veins. He leaned against his staff to steady himself.   

"Oh, Sedgy, you really are pathetic now, aren't you? To think--" She blasted another spell in front of his feet, sending him scrambling back. "The great Sedgewick Alverdyne, Minister of Magic--"

He shook his head to clear off the spots clouding his vision as he dodged once more.       

"Council member to the Ivory Tower." Another blast "The only man who ever came close to challenging me--" Bilara's magic swirled around her staff again as she prepared to unleash a far more powerful spell.   

Sedgewick's hand shook as he raised his staff in turn, his mouth in a grim line as he channeled every last ounce of his remaining magic into the spell.       

"Is now utterly useless," she finished.   

Their spells crashed against each other, fighting for dominance. Within seconds, Bilara's black began overwhelming Sedgewick's orange, eating away as her own pushed his further back.       

He could do this. He had to do this, he needed to do this.   

Rejecting brute strength, Sedgewick used his magic to sliced his way into her spell's weak points. Sweat poured down his brow as his breathing turned haggard. Bilara sneered and doubled down on her strength, but he began gaining ground as he forced the sorceress's spell back towards her.       

Until his essence withered.   

Pain flooded him, a pain that wiped away the memory of all the agony he'd felt beforehand. Bilara's spell slammed into his chest, but it didn't even register next to what he was already feeling. His head cracked against the stone wall and a sticky wetness dripped against his ear immediately after.       

The room darkened around him as he sank to the floor, his staff clattering to the ground beside him. Bilara loomed over him but the room was now too dark for him to see the smirk of mocking pity that was doubtlessly on her face.   

Why was the room so dark? What was he doing here again? He should light a fireball and look around...       

Except you don't have any magic, he thought vaguely, blinking in vain against the coming oblivion. As it finally overtook him, one last thought rang in his head.       

Useless...

Useless...       

Useless...       

I'm not cut out for this anymore, Feyla thought as she peered down at the entrance to the cave. When she'd asked whether anyone in the nearby village knew of any caves on the mountain they'd stepped cautiously away and pointed her up a path. Whether that was because they were afraid she was with Bilara or were afraid she was against her, she hadn't stuck around to find out.

The entrance appeared to be the front of an abandoned mine. When she'd spotted it in the distance, she'd left the path and circled around until she was above it.

Feyla dug her gray boots into the rock beneath her feet and pulled her white hood over her pointed ears. The harsh wind reddened her cheeks and slapped her knee-length tunic dress against her legging-covered legs. Her heart pounded as she checked the belts holding her equipment for the hundredth time. A twinge of guilt shot through her as she did so. Who was she to dawn the hood of an order whose oaths she had disgraced?

No, she told herself, taking a shuddering breath. Letting Sedgewick die when she had the power to at least try to prevent it was a crime a thousand times greater than any additional shame she was heaping on her former outfit.

A sound echoed below her and Feyla inched herself forward. A young man exited the thick door barring the cave entrance, muttering under his breath while fiddling with the heavy lock. His short black hair hung limply around his pale ears and an undyed mage's--or in this case wizard's--hat was tucked under his arm. Probably an apprentice. If he had completed his training, his hat would have been dyed the same color as his magic essence.

Feyla's mouth went dry as her moment of truth arrived. She'd tried to squeeze in some practice on the journey here, but a few days were hardly enough to make up for all the years she'd been retired. Her muscles tensed and her every nerve was tingling as she prepared to jump down.

Feyla braced herself but instead of leaping off the overlook, her muscles clenched like a vice as she began to shake. She couldn't do this. She couldn't do this.

Her breath became shallow and frantic as she crouched there frozen while memories came flooding back. Visions of hands tightening around her neck until her survival instinct took control. Images of blood covering her her hands as she desperately worked to undo the damage she had caused in her frenzy. Those lifeless eyes haunting her. The man had been mad! He hadn't known what he was doing and she killed him! She should have--could have--saved him but she hadn't and his blood was on her hands. She was a killer, a murderer, all her talk about there always being another way and He. Was. Dead.

The wizard finally finished locking the door and began trudging away.

Feyla's eyes snapped to him as her hands clenched. No. This wasn't going to overwhelm her. This wasn't going to be like last time. Someone needed help and she was the only one who could give it. That superseded her own fears.

She cracked her knuckles and launched herself off the overlook.

Feyla's feet connected with the wizard's upper back. As he fell to the ground, her hand reached around and jabbed at a spot on his neck with the perfect amount of force. He let out a cry before his eyes rolled back into his head and he hit the ground unconscious.

Relief hit Feyla like a cold bucket of water. She slipped off the wizard's back and clutched her hands to her chest. After her shaking ceased, she ignited her magic essence and quickly scanned him for injuries. After healing the bruises developing where her feet had hit, she turned him over and began hunting for a key.

His clothing was tattered and worn with an embezzled clasp as his only embellishment. The symbols match the one on the door so she took it just in case. Finally locating a ring of keys, she was just about to leave when something about him struck her. He looked so...young. Had he even passed his first century? Why wasn't he safe at home where his family could guide him until he'd reached the age of maturity?

She brushed his dirty, black hair away from his face as an almost maternal feeling overtook her. Why was someone so young aligned with such an evil woman? Had he wanted to take this path or had something driven him to it?

Well, I can't just leave him here. Someone might see him, she thought as she glanced over at his pitiful, limp form. And he might get hurt lying out here unconscious.

Sighing with mild aggravation, she shoved his hat on his head, picked up his arms, and dragged him towards the entrance. "You should be thankful I'm not Sedgewick. He would have left you here."

After fiddling with the lock, she closed the door behind her and began trudging down the tunnel, still dragging the boy wizard along with her.

All was silent except for her own footsteps and Vin's (he looked like a Vin) dragging feet. They had passed some ominous-looking spell discs in the early passages, but a quick press of Vin's clasp had let them pass with ease. Finally, Feyla spotted a door in the tunnel wall. She pressed the clasp against it just in case before cautiously cracking it open.

"It looks like nobody's home," she whispered to her sleeping companion. It appeared to be a small room carved into the cave wall. What its original use had been, she couldn't tell, but now it held stacks of rugs and blankets.

Perfect.

Feyla lowered Vin onto a stack and removed a vial with a very short needle attached to it. She wiped his arm clean and pressed the needle into his skin. The mixture should ensure that he stayed asleep long enough for her to find Sedgewick and get out of here. Snatching up a nearby blanket, she threw it over him and closed the door behind her.

The tunnels before her branched out and twisted in all directions. Feyla scowled with frustration as she tried to decide which way to go next. What would Sedgewick do?

Say a few child-inappropriate words before suddenly coming up with a solution, she thought as a twinge of longing hit her.

Feyla huffed and pushed it away. She hated Sedgewick's cursing. Along with the way his stupid face lit up with that stupidly endearing smile whenever he figured something out. Stupid man.

She listened down each passageway only to hear, wait... Yes! Very faint voices down the one to her right! Moving as quickly and quietly as possible, she crept down the tunnel. Another door was to her left and the voices could be heard around a bend up ahead, drawing closer.

Her heart stopped as she flew to the door and quickly ducked inside. The voices were almost upon her now as she began to pick up bits of what they were saying.

"Everything went perfectly according to plan," a female voice with a Northlander accent said. "The man is utterly predictable."

"And now?" a hollow-sounding voice said just as a green light leaked through the door crack.

"I briefly considered physical torture but I doubt it would be effective considering what he went through. Mental torture is far more entertaining. In fact, it's so enjoyable that I'm not quite willing to part with him."

"If he stays with you, he dies a martyr! You will--"

"I will do as I bloody well please. Sedgewick stood against me long before you began your little revenge-driven power grasp."

"We have an agreement, sorceress. You--"

The green light vanished and Feyla heard a chuckle.

"Mages. Always wrapped up in their rules. He should have done his own dirty work."

Feyla released her breath as the footsteps faded away. Bilara--at least she assumed that was Bilara--had been working with a mage? Her head spun as she tried to work out the repercussions of all she'd heard before she pushed them aside. That sorceress was hurting Sedgewick. Whatever scheme she had could wait.

Feyla had her own mage to save.

                                                                                              ****************************

Author's Note:  Hello everyone! Happy New Year!  The picture in today's chapter was put together by AdrianaGalea.  Isn't it cool?