I thought I was being intelligent by placing my stash a considerable distance in Garued, but now I found myself regretting the choice. My stamina ran out, so the best I could do was walk briskly for the remaining distance.
The old man was baiting me, I knew. But for some reason, I believed he was telling the truth. I could become a magus. For the longest time, I had no real dream. No hope that I could become anything of worth; fated to die not a day's travel from where I was born. But now, a new spark of hope was lit in me, and I couldn't let it die so easily.
Finally, I reached my stash, tore off the lid, grabbed a few coins without counting, replaced everything, and made my way back to the village.
There was still sunlight, though it was getting dimmer by the minute. I smiled, knowing I would make it back in time to hear the rest of his story.
As soon as the forest started to clear and I saw buildings, two figures jumped out from behind a tree, scaring me half to death. I recognized them, and that fear quickly smoldered into anger. Treanor and Laron, my dear half-brothers.
I was confused as to why they were there. But that didn't matter at the moment. I didn't have time for whatever cruelty they felt like inflicting.
“What do you two idiots want?” I asked.
The twins grinned. They were copies of their father, though they were a year younger than I; they both got his height and at twelve summers, stood as tall as I was. They had the same brown hair and green eyes as Bren. A combination that I had grown to hate over time.
“What you doin' in the woods? You know you got chores, right?” Treanor asked, mockingly.
“None o’ your business now, piss off.” I was getting angrier by the moment. I was not going to let them come between me and the truth.
“She’s hidin' somethin’. What you got in your hand?” Laron asked.
I wasn't interested in talking anymore. It wouldn't do to have Mother hear that I had money on the side. Regardless of how this turned out, they couldn't see it. I shifted my feet slightly, preparing to bolt past them. As much as this village ignored me, they wouldn't stand by and do nothing if they beat me up again in clear view of travelers.
I ran to the left, trying to get around them. They both chuckled and gave chase. Unfortunately, I was already tired from running, and they were simply more fit than I was. They caught up easily. I tried dashing around trees and through bushes, but they were smart enough to know that I wanted to get back into the village proper.
One chased, while the other blocked me off from running straight to the village. The frantic running tore my pathetic excuse for shoes to shreds, and I ran barefoot. Finally, my meager stamina ran out, and Laron tackled me to the ground. I fell on my chest, the impact, and then his sitting on my back, knocked the wind out of me.
I struggled against his weight, but even as my anger spiked to the point that I was seeing red, I lacked the strength to push him off. A hand grabbed the back of my head and shoved it into the ground.
“Quick, see what's in 'er hand. I bet she stole somethin',” Laron said. Treanor immediately tried to pry my hand open.
I looked at the sun. It was even lower than before. My rage turned feral; I was not going to let these idiots take this chance away from me. With a new burst of strength, I twisted my head to the left so quickly that Laron lost his grip. Then I bit down on his hand with such ferocity I could taste the iron of his blood.
Laron screamed in pain and immediately tried to drag his hand out of my mouth. Hitting my face and head with his other arm, he tried to force me to loosen my grip. Once I felt the pressure on my back gone, I let go. It took a second to find a nice palm-sized rock.
Treanor stopped his attempt to open my hand, hearing his brother’s cry of pain. I rolled onto my back, and before he could react, I clocked him across the jaw with the rock. He released a similar cry of pain, falling back onto his ass.
Not caring about the consequences, I got to my feet and started running to the village. Not surprisingly, they gave up the chase. They were cowards in the end, perfectly willing to pick on those they found weaker, but as soon as they felt pain, all that bravado disappeared.
“I’ll tell ma’. She’ll take care of you. You ‘ere me, Edith, you'll see,” Laron shouted. They would, of course, paint themselves as the victims. But that wasn't important right now. I was going to find the old man and learn about magic.
~
He wasn't there. The spot where he sat on the side of the street was empty. I could even see the furrows in the ground where his cart left a trail. I turned to a young man sitting a few feet away and asked, “Did you see where the old man went?”
He looked me up and down, his face showing unmasked disgust. Granted, I was dirty. My cheap canvas clothes were torn, and I was barefoot.
Before he could drive me away like a vagrant, I offered him two bits, “Just tell me where ‘e went.”
The young man grabbed the coin and pointed to the edge of the village. The dirt road stretched off into the distance. At this late hour, the number of people decreased significantly. I couldn't see hide nor hair of the man.
My breathing became heavy, my anger reaching levels I couldn't hold back. I screamed in anger and stomped off. Because of those two bastards, I missed out on hearing about magic. This was the first time in my life that I felt hopeful for the future. What if he were a magus in disguise? What if he could teach me magic like an old, wise Magus from the stories? The questions flitted through my mind as fast as a galloping horse.
‘You missed your chance.’
Then I realized, no, it wasn't me, it was them. They took it away from me.
I stood there, my mind plunged into a spiral of violence and anger, all directed at my family. I’ve never felt love, the warmth of a mother’s embrace, the affection of a father, or siblings. All I ever got, for as long as I could remember, was cold apathy and bitter hate.
Why? I didn't know, and no one would tell me.
I would have to face the music at some point. So, instead of prolonging my punishment, I headed home and got ready for the lashings. It came as a mild shock to me that I felt no fear or dread.
Walking past the village houses, their cold stares blurred into nothingness. They weren't really people. I finally reached Bren’s house. Not my home; not my family, for I had none. They were just people who happened to let me squat in their home.
It seemed the entire family was waiting for my return. Laron had his hand wrapped in a white cloth, and Treaner had a swollen jaw. My mother stared at me coldly, her green-eyed gaze filled with judgment. Aalis stood next to her, copying her mother’s stance and demeanor. Perhaps that was why she loved her so much and hated me. Or maybe it was because I probably looked like my father, whoever he was.
The only one that gave me pause was Bren. The man was built like a building, tall and imposing, with a balding head of brown hair. He sported a large beard and arms as wide around as my waist. He was still in his hard leather from guard duty.
With one last inhale, I walked forward, making sure not to show any fear. There was a strange pause as I stood in front of them.
“Now, girl, tell me what happened. And why are my boys nursing injuries?” Bren said. His voice held not a drop of sympathy for my own bare feet, bruised face, and no doubt blackening eye.
I shrugged, “They tried to take something from me and I wouldn't give it to them.”
“What did they try to take?” Dariah, for she was no mother to me, asked.
I held open my hand, revealing the last three bits, “See, I told you she’s a thief. What if the headman finds out?” Treanor said.
“It's always trouble with you,” Bren said.
“I didn't steal it,” I said, though I knew they had already made up their mind.
“Oh, then where did you get it?” Dariah asked.
“There was an old man. He was sellin’ stories. I told him if his story wasn't good, he should pay me for wastin’ my time. If it was good, I’d pay ‘im for the rest.” I shrugged. That wasn't true, but if the twin bastards were watching our conversation, then no doubt they would have told them about him.
Dariah kissed her teeth, “So you swindled an old man of coin and ran into the forest to what? Hide it?”
“No, to shit,” I said. Dariah’s face grew red. Aalis looked at me with disgust, and Bren nodded to himself.
“So that's it then. I tell you, Dariah, the Temple was right about her kind: A blight. Yet we can't throw her out. Thrice cursed it is,” Bren said.
Thrice cursed? That's something I've never heard before. I knew temples looked down on bastards, but it sounded like there was more to it. Dariah, for a fraction of a moment, shivered. Bren placed a loving hand on her shoulder. It wasn't the first time I had seen that reaction.
“Deal with her; at least thirty. The boys have suffered enough due to her. Head inside, all of you,” I winced at such a high number. The twin bastards smirked and went inside with their sister.
Dariah walked over and grabbed my hand, roughly dragging me to the backyard, “Time and time again. Why can't you just not cause trouble? This didn't have to happen,” Dariah said.
“Yes, it did,” I muttered. Nothing I said would have changed the outcome. I just needed to ensure that they didn’t think I had more coin stashed in the forest.
I didn't fight as she dragged me through the gate and tore my canvas shirt off, exposing my non-existent chest to the wind. I didn't wince with fear when she told me to kneel. I didn't cry in terror when she fetched the crop. It was a little more than a long, thin branch.
The first lash fell across my back. The pain nearly ripped a cry out of me, but I held it back. I pulled on my anger, letting the rage burn inside. The second lash dropped. It acted like a spark igniting the fire. As each blow landed, I did not scream or yell. Because the rage burned hotter than the lash. I bit my lips, drawing blood. I clenched my fist so hard my fingernails cut into my palm. But I did not scream. Never again would I scream or cry.
I imagined their faces, twisted in agony and despair as I burned them all with my hate. Some dark part of me wanted to laugh. Would she add another five lashes if she knew I wanted her head on a spike? Finally, the final lash fell. And my mind returned, the fires of anger dimming for a moment. I was pleased to see surprise on both their faces.
I didn't dare move; it would cause vicious stinging. Even the air felt painful against the welts. And there were so many of them. I almost wanted to smile, hearing heavy breathing from Dariah.
“Ten more,” Bren said.
I looked into his green eyes, mildly shocked at the casual cruelty. It seemed I didn't suffer enough for him. In that moment, I swore by Anier’s name that I would become a magus. According to the old man, magic requires sacrifice. If so, I would sacrifice everything, even my soul, if it meant that I could leave this entire village as little more than a molten ruin.
‘Burn everything they love, everything they cherish. Bathe it all in fire, make even the ravens and rats starve when you’re finished.’
Fortunately, after another three, I fell forward, my mind escaping into unconsciousness.
Still, I didn't scream.