The Maiden of Moonfane Forge

*

The campfire was tiny and not particularly warm, but Lily was proud of it. After her cold and discouraging first night huddled against Fae, she’d risen the next day and determined to plan her time out better. She’d halted their trekking much earlier, while there was still sunlight to be had in the dim woodland, and prioritized gathering plenty of materials with which to start her campfire and keep it burning through the night. Sparking her tinder and then successfully kindling it into a true fire had given her the kind of thrill she’d felt when she had cast her first Barrier. She’d let out a whoop of joy that sent birds scattering from a nearby bush. Even now, the little flickering yellow flames did much for her confidence and mental wellbeing. She had cooked and eaten a serviceable meal, tended to her blisters, and prepared her bedding. Things were much better this second night. She could maybe succeed in this venture, after all.

But not all was well. With a full belly and her physical comfort secured for the night, Lily’s thoughts turned back to the day of the raid on her town.

“How do you think she did it, Fae?” Lily asked her panthegrunn. She sat with her back propped against Fae’s side. The panthegrunn was asleep and had no answer for her, just the rhythmic rise and fall of her belly as she breathed. “It didn’t even appear like she needed to concentrate on it,” Lily murmured to herself. “Only—” she raised her hand and mimicked the twisting motion of her wrist, watching her fingers silhouetted against the firelight. “And her Barrier moved.” She adjusted her sitting position against Fae, stretched her arms, and yawned. “Never knew that was even possible. I don’t think Mari ever mentioned it, and it wasn’t in any texts I read.”

For a time more she stared into the fire, letting her thoughts drift. She wished she could wash her hair. She was dirty and sweaty from the day’s travel, and had gotten even more so getting the fire started. Locks of her wavy hair had gotten free of the tail she’d tied it back in and were tickling her face annoyingly.

“I’m gonna try it,” she declared suddenly. Fae grunted as Lily sat up but did not open her eyes. Lily brushed dust from her split skirt and then straightened.

Standing above the little fire, she took a slow breath in and breathed it out. She could still practice. She knew Mari would want her to continue practicing even in her absence. It was silly to think that she had to refrain from Barrier-Casting entirely just because Marigold wasn’t here to watch over her in her Slumber. She would simply have to stick to only very small Barriers, the kinds of spells that would result in only negligible periods of Caster’s Slumber—a few minutes, an hour or two, time that she could blend in with her normal sleep. Mages who were still training did that on their own all the time. You didn’t need someone looking over your shoulder for every little spell. She certainly didn’t. And with her study materials burned up with her home, she had to do something to keep her skills sharp, after all. It only made sense, right?

“Right,” she spoke the confirmation, wondering if she sounded suitably convincing to herself. “Why not? Like a Journeyer would do,” she added under her breath, and felt a twinge of anxiety. Journeyer mages cast magic without their masters watching over them, sometimes without even an assistant or attendant to guard them in their Slumber. It was part of the next phase of training for a mage, doing things on their own and being able to calculate and take on the risks. That was an essential part of wizardry. While mages typically had help in mitigating the hazards of their craft, it wasn’t always the case. One had to be prepared for those times of isolation if they expected to ever make their own way in the world with their skills. Having a deep and fundamental understanding of the cost of being able to cast magic, and knowing how and when to pay it, all on one’s own, was what separated those who were merely magically-inclined from those who made magic’s practice their life’s work.

Only, those were Journeyer mages who did that. To be elevated to the level of Journeyer was to graduate from being an apprentice and go out into the world on a Mage’s Journey, seeking out other teachers and learning to practice their skills in real situations on their own, without the guidance of their Mage-Master or Mage-Matron. Lily was still an apprentice, yet Journeyer status had seemed to be in her near future. Marigold had spoken of it often. There would be a time at which Lily would be raised above her apprentice status. Then, she would be expected to spend the next few years of her life roaming the kingdom, away from Marigold, learning and exploring her trade on her own. That was the path of a mage: apprentice, then Journeyer, then Master. To gain the status of Mage-Master or Mage-Matron, one would have to complete their journeying, then return to their teacher and be judged as having gained sufficient skill and knowledge over the course of those years.

Lily didn’t often think things that far down the road. It was silly to worry about things years removed from the present. But that was what mages did if they wanted to make magic their life’s work, and Lily did. She wanted to one day be as skilled as Marigold. However, her rapidly approaching advancement to Journeyer status filled her with dread. Sometimes, she wanted never to leave Moonfane Forge, and just remain an apprentice. Never go out on the road, never leave the happy comfort and familiarity of her idyllic little town, her daily lessons and jesting back and forth with Marigold ... her family. ...

“My town and my family are gone,” she whispered.

And there it was, the reason that the hard lessons her first night in the woods had taught her had not scared her back home. There was no home to go running back to. All that remained in her life that represented home were Marigold and Vetch, and they were no longer in Moonfane Forge. She would need to continue forward to find the both of them.

Lily took in another breath and then tried to keep it from wavering when she breathed out. She set her jaw. Enough of those thoughts. Practice, girl. What was this trick the woman who had stolen Marigold had performed on Lily? She widened her stance and closed her eyes, envisioning the arm and hand motions she had seen the mage perform in those brief moments. She had cast Barriers effortlessly and with tactical precision. If what she had done with them hadn’t been so terrifying, Lily might have called the spells magnificent, like Marigold’s Castings were magnificent.

She began by miming the motions—not summoning the magic itself, but merely trying to recall and perform the focusing movements. She held her fingers and thumb upward and gradually gathered them in close, almost as if she were trying to form them into the shape of a narrow cup, like a champagne flute. Then, she combined that with the precise twisting of the wrist she had witnessed. Lily opened her eyes and pursed her lips to one side. It was hard doing this while at the same time maintaining the relaxation of body that Marigold had taught her. This other mage appeared to have a very different style of Casting than Lily was familiar with.

“Worth a try, though,” Lily pressed on. She licked her lips. Again, she slackened her muscles, let her eyelids droop, made her face neutral and relaxed. Then, she raised her arm, and with a small circular gesture of her hand cast a tiny cylindrical Barrier around her campfire. Gold and shimmery, it manifested into being, and Lily was pleased to see that she had managed to make its shape uniform and smooth. She grinned to herself and wished Marigold could see this one. True, it was very small, but shapes like this had always been a challenge for her and she’d pulled off the shaping of this one so much more perfectly than many of the other shaped Barriers she had attempted before.

But that was the easy part. It was just a normal Barrier, without Imbuements or Permissions. Now, she had to make it move. Another breath in, another breath out. She raised her hand again, this time gradually arranging her fingers in the champagne flute shape, while simultaneously turning her wrist counterclockwise. She focused the intentions of her mind into the motions of her body, felt the magic well and shimmer and course. She projected thought and emotion outward at the Barrier. She could sense the power of her own Barrier, but how did one make an already-cast Barrier into something different than it was? Did it all happen at once or was it like casting two independent spells? She watched through lidded eyes. The air wavered with translucent gold, but in sensing her own Barrier, she could feel nothing additional that could be done with it beyond a Dispelling. It simply remained there, solid and unmoving, as Barriers always did.

Suddenly light-headed, Lily dropped her arm and caught up a large breath. Had she been holding it? The wavering gold hue above the campfire faded. She stared after it in consternation. It wasn’t just that she had failed to perform the spell she’d intended, it was that she’d never once felt any hint during the Casting that such a spell was even possible. Her magic had had nowhere to go. Frustrated, she gave the existing Barrier a little kick with the toe of her boot before she dispelled it. She staggered on her feet then and had to quickly sit down so as not to topple. The sensation of light-headedness grew.

“Too much,” she murmured. She felt Slumber closing in and prayed it would not last beyond a single night’s sleep. She had tried too much. Would she wake in a day? Or three? She had no way to know. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she scolded herself. “Stupid! Trying to cast something I know nothing about. Don’t do that again, girl.” She could hear her Mage-Matron’s criticism in her own words, almost as clearly as if Marigold were sitting right next to her.

Nothing she could do about it now. She already felt as if her body were trying to float up off the ground. She crawled into the bedding she’d set out for herself and resigned herself into the magical state of Slumber.

It felt instantaneous, but when next she’d woken, she knew she had been fortunate. So far as she could tell, she had been in Caster’s Slumber for less than two days. Her estimate had been based on how hungry and insistent on being fed Fae was upon her waking.

Now, she rode along, stiff from lying on the hard ground for so many hours, belly none-too-pleased with the overly-salty food she’d fed herself, and feeling preoccupied by any number of concerns. Who was this strange mage who had stolen Marigold? What was she capable of? These questions returned to Lily over and over as she rode listlessly along the woodland track upon her panthegrunn. In her years studying as an apprentice mage, she had read about many different mages and magics. She knew that every individual mage had his or her own style, strengths, and weaknesses. But never once had she come across any information in the discipline of Barrier-Casting that spoke of anything like she had seen Marigold’s abductor cast. As a student of magic, it fascinated her. As Marigold’s friend, and in hoping to find her and help her, it terrified Lily.

She’d already promised herself she’d not go trying any new and unfamiliar magic again. She would stick to known spells, very small and basic Barriers, things she knew how to cast and that would cost her little time in Slumber. She wasn’t about to let her skillset go dull, but she’d be more careful. This seemed a reasonable enough way to maintain her studies.

Practicing would at least give her something to look forward to when they paused in the evenings. Traveling Bannerman’s Wood was alternately monotonous and disconcerting. There were hours on end during which she and Fae simply walked along the trail and there was nothing so noteworthy to see or hear as the myriad trees, the wind, and quiet birdsong. Other times, the strangeness of the woods would assert itself. She would hear calls from animals that she had no names for, or see evidence of old human habitations well off the track in the trees, singular old walls or still-standing chimneys covered over with plant life, so that no surface of stone or brick could be seen beneath. She knew the place had been more traveled and inhabited of old, and supposedly some people still did make their homes in the wood, but that made her feel no less unwelcome. Moreover, the persistent sensation of magic all around still weighed on her. She could forget about it sometimes, but then she would catch herself quickly turning her head to try and see what had felt like a burst of magic, only to see nothing there but more trees and bushes and vines.

The next night and day were uneventful, but as the time and miles stacked behind them, Fae became displeased with having to carry her saddle and saddlebags for so many hours on end. It had been rare back home that Lily would ask her to wear her saddle for longer than the duration of some brisk morning exercise. Fae made her displeasure about the change known with irritated grunts and a streak of stubbornness atypical for her. It began with her ignoring some of Lily’s commands by either plodding along too slowly, or surging forward faster than she should, ladened as she was with the full saddlebags. Lily eventually decided to dismount and walk beside her. It was easier on her blistered hands, at any rate.

Yet, even unburdened with a rider, Fae took to pushing her great head against Lily’s shoulder, or leaning into her, and by extension driving Lily to the side of the trail. At length, Lily shoved the great beast’s snout away with her hand and then halted on the path, hands akimbo.

“You stop that,” she said, eyeing Fae with mock severity. “You know what I’m talking about.”

The panthegrunn stopped and turned her great cat-like body to face Lily, watching her from beneath the shaggy hair that hung over her eyes. Lily wasn’t certain how, but she could see the humor hiding behind her charge-beast’s impassive expression.

“Are you going to behave yourself so we can keep moving?” Lily asked. When Fae only stared at her, she added, “You want to find Vetch, don’t you?” At the sound of Vetch’s name, Fae lifted her head and gave a grunt. Lily smiled. “Well, I do, too. And we won’t do it by messing about. I am sorry that I cannot carry the saddlebags for us. You’re much stronger than me. But the sooner we find Vetch and the other soldiers, and help them track down Mari, the sooner we can all go home. You want to go home, right?”

To this, Fae responded with a chuff and by pushing her broad snout into Lily’s hand. Then, to Lily’s amusement, Fae turned her head to her own haunch and attempted to nose into the saddlebag there. Her cat-like form allowed for the same flexibility of a feline and soon the great beast was turning herself in slow circles trying to get at her fodder in one of the bags. Lily laughed despite herself.

“Oh, you silly thing. It’s not even close to time for us to stop for the night. We need to keep moving.” Fae continued to turn circles. Lily knew she’d get nowhere fighting the panthegrunn’s willfulness now. When an animal of her size and cleverness wanted something, it did little good to stand in her way. “Oh, all right, you win. You can have something to eat,” she said. “No, stop tugging at the straps, you’ll break the buckle!” Lily grabbed one of Fae’s horns and pushed her head aside. “Enough, girl. Hold still and I’ll get you some food. I guess we can take a little break. I have to pee, anyway.”

Lily loosened the strap securing the bag of fodder to the saddle and then wiped the panthegrunn drool from her hands. The supply of fodder was dwindling quickly; soon Fae would have to make do with what she could browse in the woods. Lily shook enough food out onto the road to pacify Fae for a few more hours and then re-secured the bag to the saddle. Fae grunted happily as she went about eating, her tufted tail flicking side to side.

“Alright, girl, you stay here and eat. I’ll be back in a minute.”

She left the panthegrunn happily occupied with her meal, and tramped off the trail a way into the trees and underbrush. Finding a likely spot, Lily hiked her split skirt up and squatted. She watched the woodland around her with a combination of serenity and wariness. Strange how a place could appear both picturesque and peaceful, yet at the same time make her want to keep her eyes peeled and be vigilant for danger at all times. It wasn’t only the tales of demons and spirits and highwaymen meant to ward children away from the place that cautioned her. Now that she was deep into Bannerman’s Wood, she felt a legitimate trepidation about the place that was entirely her of her own making in the present. She could tell for certain now that peoples’s avoidance of the large tract of forest was not only due to children’s tales. There was a tangible sensation of wrongness that marred the place, telling her that the tales had to have come from something real. But she and Fae were alone here, as far as she could tell. A reasonable amount of guardedness in unfamiliar surroundings was not unwise, yet there should be no reason to be afraid. Should there?

Lily finished and stood up again, letting her skirt fall back into place. It was then that she felt a flash of magic so acute that she felt certain someone had cast a spell just behind her. She raised her eyes and looked all around, seeing nothing, yet she could tell that Fae had sensed it to. The panthegrunn had stopped eating and was staring intently past Lily and into the trees. When Lily followed her gaze, she saw nothing at first. Not until it moved. Stalking through patches of shadow and light, the animal made itself known, its golden eyes fixed directly on Lily. It was a great cat, tawny of pelt and splotched with spills of darker brown, like a jester in motley of earth tones. Lily had never seen its like before. It was not as big as Fae, but it easily had to outweigh Lily, its body long and muscled. Its long tail lashed and its lips curled, revealing gleaming white fangs as it appeared to taste the air for prey. Lily felt the strong magic close by as the cat moved in parallel to her position. That magic must have been coming from the cat, or from some other source related to its appearance.

In complete silence, it began stalking toward her, muscles bunched and coiled, and Lily understood instantly that the sleek predator was closing the distance for a deadly pounce that would snuff her out. From behind her, there came a great grunting roar and suddenly Fae was at her side. The panthegrunn shoved past Lily with head lowered in order to level her large horns in challenge to her foe. The forest cat, surprisingly, refused to back down. It showed its fangs and voiced a yowl and hiss before crouching low and lashing its tail.

“No!” Lily shouted.

As the forest cat made its pounce, and Fae charged with her horns lowered, without thought Lily swept her arm across her body. A golden Barrier manifested before her. She felt a faintness hit her and then stood transfixed in horror as the forest cat and Fae both collided with the Barrier. Able to see and smell each other, but unable to pass through it to get to one another, they both growled and spat and assailed the Barrier, nose to nose as the cat slashed with its claws and Fae shoved with her horns, as if she could shatter the Barrier. But she could not. It held firm, separating both seething animals.

“No!” Lily shouted again. This time it was a command. “Fae, no! Come, Fae! Come on!” She was terrified. The Barrier extended only a short span side to side. The animals’s preoccupations with being face to face would not keep them from tearing each other to shreds for long, were they to find they could step merely around it. And despite Lily’s confidence that few living non-magical beasts could successfully fight a panthegrunn, she didn’t expect it would happen without grievous injury to Fae. In that moment she wanted only to be away from the terrible, spitting forest cat and the bloodlust in its eyes.

She caught up Fae’s reins and yanked hard. Fae resisted for a moment, but then to Lily’s vast relief, she yielded. Following Lily’s coaxing and pulling, she backed up, never taking her eyes off the large cat. It began to pace and soon found the edge of the Barrier. Again, it advanced on them.

“Go away!” Lily yelled at it. Then, to herself, “Stupid, stupid ...”

This time, she forced her panicked, shaking hand to move with purpose, willing her thudding heart to calm. Step by step, the cat advanced, as Fae tossed her head against her reins, unwilling to take her eyes and the aim of her horns off the approaching predator. Lily stopped pulling for a second, counseled herself to relaxation, and then waved her free hand before her a second time. To this Barrier, she gave shape. Shimmering and gold, it formed into the cylinder that Lily’s gesture had guided around the animal. At the same time, she let her will flow into the Casting, imbuing it to last until nightfall, trapping the forest cat.

Finding itself suddenly unable to break free from its magical cage, the cat lashed out at its enclosure, turning circles on itself in its desire to escape. Its newfound restriction shook its confidence. The cat now sensed it was at a disadvantage and desired only to flee, but it could not. Instead, it turned to face them and hissed, a warning to stay away. The tension seemed to abate then, as Fae, too, appeared to understand that the confrontation was at an end, as animals do.

That did nothing to ease Lily’s fright, however. With one more tug, she was able to get Fae to turn and come with her back to the path. She quickly hauled herself into the saddle and put her heels to Fae’s flanks.

“Go, girl! Take us away from here!”

Fae ran, and Lily was thankful that her panthegrunn would always heed her when push came to shove. Fae’s hooves thundered down the path, putting rapid distance between them and the near-death experience. As they coursed down the narrow track, Lily felt Caster’s Slumber beckon. Buoyant and ethereal, she lay her cheek atop Fae’s steady head.

Again, a flash of magic came. Lily turned her eyes up to the canopy of the trees whizzing by and saw a strange red bird winging quickly above them, keeping pace with Fae’s powerful strides. The bird was large and bright, with a great long plume of a tail. It looked completely out of place in a forest such as this and seemed to follow them with intent. When Lily fixed her eyes on that bird, she felt clearly the magic emanating off of it. There was the source she’d felt earlier! It was not the forest cat, but this bird. A charge-beast! Could there be charge-beasts in the form of birds? Was this why the woods felt as they did, because wild charge-beasts resided in their depths? Or even high in the branches?

Just when she thought that the bird would continue to keep pace with them indefinitely, it suddenly banked its wings and peeled off into the trees out of sight. For a moment longer, Lily could feel its magic. Then, the magic was gone. Clutching Fae’s mane tightly, Lily fell again into Slumber.