Anagha Baheti

I dragged myself away from the cursed castle. The tyrant king watched me like a hawk but did not give chase. And I was glad for that. With a broken ankle and two broken ribs, death would be the only outcome. I needed to escape before he cut my life short. I had given my all to the fight. I wished I could protect the citizens, but it was time to accept the bitter truth: I just wasn’t strong enough.

I dragged myself through the thinnest lanes, keeping an eye out for any potential threat. I reached the end of the city, and slipped into the thicket by the wall. The citizens had carved an illegal hole behind the thicket, which is where I had entered the city. Now, it would be my escape.

The hot evening breeze burnt the gash on my thigh as I bent down to slip through the hole. I whimpered, but kept pushing. A little child saw me as I struggled to shove my broken body through the hole. I wondered for a minute if he would scream and alert the guards of my presence. He didn’t. Thankfully.

As I ignored the boy and returned to the task at hand, I realised the mistake I had made. The hole was too small to sit and slide through. I should have crawled. I was stuck. I tried to wiggle back into the city, but the pain in my chest almost made me pass out. Pain made me sit still like a duck waiting for the hounds to catch up. The idiocy of the situation made me laugh. What could I do except wait for a soldier to spot and kill me?

I sat there for a good twenty minutes, wondering what had possessed me to take up a mission far beyond my capabilities. I was only a month over twenty-five – barely a month out of the academy. And here I was, beaten and bruised, waiting for death.

Two men grabbed me by an arm and my broken leg and pulled me in. Pain shot through my body, but I kept my voice firmly locked up. It would do them no good to hear a Mage scream like a child. Like all farmers in the south, they wore drab tunics and lose trousers. They carried me to a nearby hut and put me on the bed. It hurt to be moved.

A young lady walked up to me with a vial in her hands. My mouth itched for the bright red healing potion.

“I know this is not much, sir,” she bowed to me as she fell to her knees and presented the vial to me. She wore a similar tunic and a long, very muddy skirt. “But this is all the healing we could afford with every spare coin in this village put together. I hope you are not disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” I exclaimed, accepting the vial from her. “You have just saved my life, fair lady. I am grateful.”

“Could I ask you a question, sir?” I looked up at the source of the voice. It was one of the men who had rescued me. He stood with his back against the wall at the very end of the crowd.

“Of course. I owe my life to you. Please, ask away my good sir.”

“If it pleases you to answer, why did the king leave you alive?”

“Because he has a Lawful grimoire.”

“I am sorry, sir, but I do not understand.”

“Your king is evil beyond redemption, but his book is Lawful. It wouldn’t let him cast a spell on anyone unable to defend himself.” I perceived a tiny increase in morale across the room. Had I just given them false hope? “But the grimoire can only restrict his magical capabilities. His sword could still cut me in half.”

My words zapped away the energy of the room.

“Will you leave us here to suffer?”

A little voice sprang up from a corner of the room. I called the kid to me and he sheepishly obliged. I held his hands in mine, looked into his eyes, and spoke.

“Absolutely not, little one. What I will do, is write some letters. I will ask my friends for help. Together, we will defeat the king and make this city safe for you and everyone else.”

Satisfied, the boy returned to his mother.

I drank the potion. A cool wave spread through my body, pushing the bones back into place, erasing all my bruises. In no time, I was healed. I jumped to my feet, stretched for a bit, and walked up to the man who had saved me. I put my hand on his shoulder. “I don’t suppose you could take me to the letter office?”