The Elf Witch |Book 1|

Chapter 9

They stood in the shop an hour later.

Imani's distraction worked too well—Fen barely searched their home. The constable shuffled his feet, seeming to debate his following words. He cleared his throat. "Before I leave, there's something else you should know."

"Get to the point then. We have work to do today," Imani snapped, her patience gone.

"Larger towns at the edge of the Riverlands reported an increased presence of security forces, and I feel compelled to warn you," Fen started, a deepening grimness sweeping over his features. "Queen Dialora accused the Royal Order of Magic, including the First Witch, of letting witches go unchecked for too long, which is likely true. However, the Order accounted for all its master witches yesterday, so we can't deny the event came from a potential master who doesn't answer to anyone."

Imani's heart hammered. "But that could be any witch with five markings. How can they expect to control all potential masters?" There weren't that many masters remaining. But in a kingdom of millions, there were enough that this would be a problem for the Crown.

"Well, there are rumors about a new law requiring anyone registered with at least five markings to take the Assessments. Anyone who passes would work an indeterminate amount of time for the Order."

Hand to her throat, Meira seemed unable to speak.

Imani clutched the counter. "Assessments kill people. They can't force us to go to our deaths."

Since creating the Ordinances, only the Royal Order of Magic could facilitate a witch earning a master brand. Outside of accidental ascension, any witch caught wielding a master brand would lose their license to practice magic and would probably end up in jail—or, these days, worse.

Such an accomplishment took more than practice and hard work—it took sacrifice. A board of master and archmage witches at the Order created and administered three demanding assessments once a year.

The Assessments didn't just test witches—they pushed them to the very limit of survival with dangerous challenges of magical abilities, all intense enough to trigger the Fabric master brand.

"They can, and they will," he replied as he moved to leave. "I wanted you to know because it's well-known that your family wields magic."

How much magic someone had was their business, though. Most of the town assumed Imani had just as much as her sister and grandmother, and they didn't correct anyone.

Fen continued. "But, of course, whether you have five brands is not my business. But if you do," he paused, backing up to the door. Tension in the air thickened, and his eyes looked apologetic. "If you do, they are coming for you."

The bell jingled as he left, sounding far too cheerful for the mood.

- - -

Both stayed silent for a long time after Fen left.

The selfish, opportunistic part of her desperately wanted to let her sister go. She wanted to be saved for once and let someone take away her role as the mediocre head of a family barely holding it together. She wanted to stay and grow the magic business she had worked so hard for all these years.

Her sister's sobs cut through the silence. Then, finally, Meira's head dropped into her hands. "Imani, I can't go. I can't."

The fear in Meira's words broke her heart. By nature, only the strongest witches survived to become masters. It's what set them apart. If her sister took the Ascension Assessments, she would die—and

Imani couldn't let that happen.

The Aowyn children had never traveled to Stralas, the massive capital city of their kingdom. She'd heard it towered over the Neshuin Sea, tall and imposing on the cliffs of a long peninsula. It was more than a week's journey; it could be entirely another realm. The Royal Order of Magic mingled with the court and lived on the palace grounds.