Tempered by the Will

6 - Borders

 "I understand that you don't make use of a talisman or token of any kind to channel your magic?"

Vica narrowed her eyes at the man, wondering if he could be trusted even that far. Giving that answer didn't seem like it would hurt her in any way - she had almost no access to her power with Constantine standing right behind her - but she didn't even know his name. That plus the obvious fact that he had been the one to inflict such misery on her (even if it had ended well) didn't make him trustworthy in the least in her eyes.

"Please. It's important. Crossing through to the levels of the Inner Sanctum is dangerous, and if you have any magical artifacts or items on you that aren't registered with the Charter..."

"I don't."

"She has a great deal of concentrated free magic. That's bound to register on the wards."

She turned to look at Bren. Again, his knowledge of the Capital's workings defied explanation. How could someone who had only been here a few times, and in unfavorable conditions no less, know enough to make their 'host' take pause?

"I'm trusting that Constantine's anti-magic will keep you suppressed while we cross over. Not completely, or else you wouldn't be able to cross at all - just enough to allow you passage. You'll just seem like a weak mage traveling over, so you should be safe," the man said.

Dissatisfied, she pointed at the assassin with a jab of her thumb over her shoulder. "Won't he do something to wards? They're magic, aren't they? He'll trigger something. Or break them."

"He won't." The man paused again as if expecting Constantine to explain, but when the silence continued, he hurried to provide the answer instead. “He suppresses the access and flow of magic. If it’s no longer being channeled by the mage, if it’s self sustaining, he won’t disrupt magic that has already been cast. Not accidentally, anyway. I’m sure he can dismantle barrier magic completely given enough effort and time, but these are no ordinary wards. In any case, he’ll be able to slip through and register as nothing at all. He’s as good as invisible.”

She recalled suddenly the days spent in the lair of the dragon and its hatchling. He had needed time to free the infant from its magicked restraints then, too. And the illusory ward when they first entered the outer district of the Capital. Alright, then. She was a little closer to understanding the intricacies of his power.

Though it seemed he wouldn’t even stay long enough for that to matter. He’d certainly hinted that he would leave at the first opportunity earlier. Unless this man was paying him to linger and keep her suppressed...indefinitely.

She stepped to the side and gave both of them a sweeping look of suspicion. It took Bren’s hand on her arm to make her relax.

But one more thing:

“How long can we stay hidden like this? I already know Constantine’s a wanted man, and I’m - well, I don’t know how well they’ll recognize my face. But are we really just going to hide under our hoods until we get to wherever it is I’m supposed to go?”

“I promise it won’t be long. After we cross the both wards, we’ll have all the privacy we want. My estate is located at the fringes of the Inner Sanctum. The gondola will take us there directly, I have a man waiting for us.”

It didn’t seem she had a choice. Constantine’s hand on her back urged her forward, and she followed in silence. She’d put herself here, so she couldn’t back out now.

She’d see this to the end and find out where her destiny led her next. She couldn’t believe that she had come all the way out here and finally found herself just to die - it was impossible. She had too much to do. Too much to change. Too many years of wondering why she had been trapped in a body capable of nothing but destruction and evil -

Well, she wasn’t trapped. For the first time, she was free, no matter whether Constantine’s presence was suppressing her power.

In the end, she’d find her way.

* * * * *

There were levels to the Capital: The Sanctum, she learned, was where the “true” citizens lived. Anyone with magic in their veins was qualified to pass through the wards in either direction unmolested. There wasn’t even a need for guards; no one could hope to scale the perfectly smooth, fifty foot translucent walls that surrounded the circular inner body of the city.

Vica stared open-mouthed at the sight of them. Rippling waves radiated through the walls with a constant, ever-present hum of power, and she occasionally saw impressions of sigils blaze like sudden, white fire as they climbed the stone steps that surrounded the entirety of the Sanctum and its protective barrier.

“Ninety-nine steps,” Bren panted beside her. “In stone. To remind the lesser ones of their inferior position. They cannot change their lot in life as surely as they cannot hope to move or manipulate these stones.”

Vica grimaced. Of course. Because even the architecture of the Capital had to reflect the values of magical supremacy. It sickened her to think that those long-gone builders had been so insistent on carving their authority into the landscape this way. Was that why this city was built on a hill? She had hoped it was simply because of some - military advantage, but now she wondered if it was because they had always intended to make the ‘lesser’ live at the foot of it while the elite looked down on all others from the very crest.

If she ever got the chance, the first thing she would do was tear down the wards and make it legal for anyone to come and go as they pleased. To confine those to slums and the poortowns just because they had no magic - it disgusted her beyond words.

But those walls. They were so big, and as Constantine held tight to her arm and pulled her across, the sheer, ancient power inside them tingled across her skin and crept inside her body, making her gasp aloud. She could feel the magic of the wards sinking down, down, touching her suppressed core, rousing it to throw off Constantine’s influence -

But he yanked her out the rest of the way before it could spark it to life, and she sucked in a deep breath as if to try to fill the sudden vacuum left by the failed promise of freedom.

“Let go.” She shook off his grip, angrier than she would admit that she had been interrupted before she could let her magic and that of the wards mingle.

Constantine released her without a fight, and she stomped past him after their mysterious host with Bren following swiftly behind.

She was burning to ask the questions she’d been holding inside for ages now, but she remembered that there was one more barrier to worry about: the one that divided the Outer Sanctum from the Inner.

“Don’t worry about this one,” the man said, however. “Ordinarily, anyone without the proper Charter mark would be incinerated upon contact, but -”

He placed his hand against the translucent wall of power, and an elegant, arabesque design blossomed and radiated out from the point of contact all along the ward.

“My Mark,” he explained to Vica. “Remember it. Any place with this above the entryway is safe. If you see a different Marking, do not enter that place. This isn’t quite like the ancient magicks, but it’s still old enough to be dangerous. The power can get inside you and infect you if you aren’t properly trained to prevent it.”

She blinked. Like how the ward magic had infiltrated her body? But it had felt so good, so right. If she had melded with it, she was sure it would have been able to wake her almost-sleeping core so that she could throw off the anti-magic.

But she wouldn’t bring that up now, at least not in Constantine’s presence. She didn’t know if this other man had truly sinister intentions for her, but she knew that Constantine at least was no ally. If she had any kind of edge over him, she wouldn’t give it away and reveal it to him so easily.

They stepped through after him within the bounds of the emblazoned Mark that glowed white upon the translucence, and with a flick of his wrist the man dissipated it after they were all on the other side.

“...Do I need one of those?” Vica asked suddenly. “I mean - to get around?”

“For now, you’ll need my help to get through the barrier in either direction. I’m afraid getting Chartered is not as simple as simply asking for one - if you wanted one at all. And believe me, you do not.”

The wry tone in which he spoke made her uneasy, but even more than that, she swallowed at the thought that she was trapped here. She didn’t want to risk incineration - yes, she knew she had power, but none of it was counter magic or defensive in any way. She couldn’t smash her way out of being incinerated, and even if she could beat down the ancient wards somehow, she doubted it would be an easy feat. She had felt the force of their power surging through her already; it was not the work of any one man who had assembled them, but rather hundreds. Maybe thousands.

The stone steps ended here, however, and Vica took a moment to rest her burning legs by the wide, beautiful canal that they stopped next to while waiting for one of the magicked gondolas to appear. Clear water at least twenty feet across flowed with singsong, burbling charm , filled with beautiful fish ranging from rainbow-scaled to those with angelic-looking fins trailing like ethereal veils behind them. She leaned over the edge of the canal and looked eagerly at each one.

“You can touch them. They’re tame.”

She glanced up at the man who had come to stand next to her.

“I was warned to stay away from fountains,” she said, and glanced over at Bren who was staring up at the grand spires to the northwest. “Because of water nymphs.”

“Yes, but the canals are safe. If you look at the walls through the water, you’ll see that all of this is charmed to keep out sprites. No one wants to be riding on a gondola and find themselves yanked down into the water.”

“And drowning.”

“Yes, well. Most mages here wouldn’t find it difficult to charm a sprite off of them. But it’s still an inconvenience -”

“Charm?” she interrupted. “How do you charm a sprite? You mean attack them?” And she supposed that was plausible: she didn’t like the idea of attacking a creature who was simply behaving according to its nature, but weighed against survival…

“No,” the man said with a curious frown. “There are pacification spells -”

“She’s not schooled,” Constantine cut in. “Don’t bother. You’ll have to train her up yourself.”

“Ah.”

She didn’t like that little sound. It sounded almost pitying, sympathetic. And Constantine - how dare he sound so dismissive! He had seen with his own eyes what she was capable of. Seals? Charms? So what if she didn’t know them yet! She would learn, and it would be easy -

“Shh,” he said, and he reached up to push her hair behind her ear with a smile. Her hood fell the rest of the way off with the motion. “Don’t make a fuss here. I’m tired.”

She shoved away his hand and then looked around, half to check their surroundings once more and half to hide her confusion at the fond, tender touch. Was he going to be an asshole or not! Enough games. The next time he did something like that, she would make it clear she was in no mood. The only reason he was getting a reprieve now was because of the yet-unnamed man with them as well.

She shot Constantine one last warning glare, just in time for him to nod past her down the canal at something. She resisted only for a few seconds before giving in to her curiosity.

And with a turn of her head, she saw it approaching them over the water with little bobs and sways: a delicate, narrow boat decorated with gorgeous carvings and carved to perfection down to the impossibly fine curl right at the tip of the gondola’s prow. Dark reddish-brown wood, deep and beautiful - it somehow looked like living, breathing wood. Vica gasped at the sight of it.

“This will take us almost directly to my estate,” their mage host announced, and he flicked his wrist to summon a glowing, white-flickering Charter mark in the palm of his hand. The gondola stopped in front of him despite anchored to nothing at all, seemingly waiting for them to board.

“Ladies first,” he said, and bowed his head in Vica’s direction.