Fyra (First Draft)

Twenty One

Fyra woke to a loud voice ringing through her ears, worsening the ache that was rooting itself in the back of her skull. A ragged gasp made a weak attempt to escape her throat, but she only ended up coughing in a way that made her feel as if there was sandpaper in her mouth. As Fyra sat up, hazy figure came into focus in front of her, and she groaned.

The face only inches from hers promptly sighed with relief. The girl stepped back, shaking her head. "Sound sleeper, are we?"

Fyra scowled, a response quick to leave her lips despite her tiredness and thirst. "Usually I'm awake at the drop of a pin, but excuse me if I don't cater to my kidnappers." Though her voice escaped as a weary croak, the sarcasm was not lost on the tall, olive-skinned girl.

"Not the one who dragged you here, sweetheart." The girl smirked, running her hands through her cropped hair. "I'm the one making sure you don't die.

Before Fyra could voice her skepticism, the girl tossed something to her. Fyra looked down at the water skin with a mixed expression of thanks and surprise. She opened it, pondering if it were safe to drink, but then she realized that if her captors wanted her dead, they wouldn't have a reason to keep her in this strange, earthy cage. The water felt like heaven as it slowly trickled down her throat. She looked up at the girl.

"I'm Fyra. And...thanks."

"Thank your Queen." She smiled. "I'm Mariah."

Fyra stood and extended a hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

The corner of Mariah's lips tugged up. "Don't have to waste formalities on me, hun." Despite the words, Mariah took Fyra's hand and shook it.

Fyra handed back the water skin. "I mean it. Thanks."

"Fire user, eh? And you've got the hair to go with it." said Mariah as she looked at Fyra's exposed wrist. Without anything to hide it, her anima was on display for anyone to observe. Mariah held up her own wrist, pulling back the sleeve that covered it. "I'm a wind-whistler myself." Fyra hid her surprise. Even before magic was illegal, people were hesitant to share their abilities with those they didn't trust, unless the sorcerer's aim was to convey a message.

Though pain still sent dull aches through the back of her skull, her mind was slightly clearer, and questions started rising at a rapid rate. "How long have I been down here?" Though she ached to ask about her blue eyed boy, it would be practical to stick to basic questions. She also wasn't sure if she was ready to see what he would think of her now that he knew.

"Five days. But don't worry. Everyone who saw your display at the ball has been taken care of." Mariah was now seated on the floor, examining her chipped nails with a bored detachment.

"Taken care of?"

"Yep. Memories erased, replaced, all that spirit magic juju."

"Erased?" Fyra echoed.

"What are you, some sort of red-haired parrot? Yes," she said slowly, "Erased. Changed. Whatever you want to call the eviction of memories without consultation."

"I know what you meant but..." Fyra swallowed, not sure if she should ask.

"Spit it out, sweetheart, you might choke."

Fyra sighed. "The prince. Did he..." She struggled to put the words to express what would both provide relief and weigh her heart down with guilt. After studying her for a moment after she had trailed off, Mariah understood, and sympathy appeared in her gaze.

"Not sure. I can ask around."

Fyra nodded, unable to find the words to give what would surely make up a hollow thanks. In all honesty, she wasn't entirely sure if she wanted Cirian to remember. Judgement was always harshest when seen in the eyes of those held dear. At the same time, she couldn't help but feel the small sliver of hope that he may accept her as she was. 

"Are there more sorcerers?"

Mariah smirked. "I wouldn't call our bunch sorcerers exactly-- most of us haven't had any training, but yes. There are roughly twenty of us, and at least half have potent abilities."

"Who commands them?"

"Don't ask stupid questions. You're a smart girl; you already know who's in command."

"The King."

"And the winner is... the ginger lass in a ratty gown!"

Fyra rolled her eyes. "I'm honored! What's my prize? A bath perhaps?"

Both girls exchanged smiles that evolved into laughter. The moment of lightness ended as Fyra remembered another question that had been nagging her. "Do you know a soldier called 'Athan'?"

Mariah's lips sank into a thoughtful frown, because though the name held an echo of familiarity, she couldn't put her thumb on a face. Then suddenly it dawned on her. "Thinks he's hilarious, comes off as an ass, and has a certain penchant for manipulating minds for a certain someone?"

"Sounds like him, though I can honestly say I hadn't expected that last one." Fyra sighed. "Though I shouldn't be surprised that he has an affinity for spirit magic. I shouldn't be surprised by anything at all."

"He's one of the king's most loyal lapdogs," said Mariah, shaking her head. "Most of us are here because we were caught, and would be killed otherwise. Some were turned in by their own families." The last words left the taller girl's mouth bitterness that made it easy to see what had given Mariah her tact and sharp tongue. Anyone would be jaded after being tossed aside by the ones that should have provided unconditional love.

As her thoughts wandered to the memories of the boy she had met in a cellar, Fyra sighed once again. How she could have been so wrong in hoping he was the person she had once known?

"You okay? You look all broody."

"Fine, thanks."

Mariah shrugged. "I could be wrong. I've only met him once."

Fyra smiled. "Your description isn't too far off. I just can't believe he's serving the king."

Though her curiosity spiked, Mariah asked no questions. "Well, I ought to go now. See you around." She stood to leave.

Fyra nodded, her head still swirling with a thousand questions. "Mariah?"

"Yes?"

"What happens when I'm released?"

Mariah gave her a sad smile. "You have to make a choice. Serve the king, or die at his whim." She turned and walked out without another word, the hole in the earth that had given her access to the cave closing up behind her, as if she were being swallowed up.

A/N: What do you think of Mariah? :)