Bogdan refused to go back to the Circle to register me for use on the wayfolds, but that didn't stop me from setting up an opening, anyway.
Unlike the popular rumors commonfolk liked to spread, most spells and magical needs did not require the use of blood. No, the ones that did require such a creepy method were often the ones I'd avoid using at all costs.
Never accept the help of something that requires spilt life essence. That was the first thing I'd learned upon signing my life away to the Reftin Circle. Nothing, absolutely nothing, was worth paying that sort of price.
Still, I couldn't help but chuckle as I drew a round, door-like shape on one of the cavern walls with a piece of charcoal commonly found throughout the mines. I thought of the enchantment I'd used earlier to escape the grayvers, studying my drawing. People often feared bounty-hunters, which was what most assumed I was. They were lone mercenaries, people who hunted anything for the right price. Not much separated us from assassins. Yet, there was one major difference between me and the person everyone else presumed me to be: I knew far, far more dangerous tricks than that of those which required blood.
I didn't meddle in blood. No, I meddled in things that most nightmares feared.
"Have any more dark magic items up your sleeve?" Bogdan mocked from behind me.
"I'm not interested in being possessed a second time tonight," I retorted, avoiding the question.
"You're breaking the rules."
"Hmm. Is this a rule the Circle wrote?"
"Does it matter? If you die and you're not registered-"
"And who's fault is that?" I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. "The Circle will not punish me for using something they cannot monitor. I'm going to Canden with or without your approval, Bogdan. Unless there's something you want to tell me?"
I turned to face him, eyebrows raised. Bogdan wasn't normally this social with me. In fact, I've seen more of him in the past few hours than I had in the past couple of months. Something was up - something he kept hesitating on to tell me.
It should have concerned me, but it didn't. If the Circle was displeased with me for one reason or another, a representative would have approached me by now. Therefore, I was content to not wasting my breath on anything else.
The ancient spirit regarded me with a thick round of silence. I shot him a tight smile.
"Very well." I faced my drawing, pressing my palm to the center. A familiar, uncomfortable surge of power emanated deep within my gut, sensing the unspoken call for its assistance. It grew and grew, a hot, not-quite-burning sensation that took over the remaining chill still lingering in my body from tonight's misadventures, until it was seeping its way into my legs, chest, arms, and neck. Anyone who was an amateur in magical studies would surely mistake me as a witch if they saw the way my veins began to glow from beneath the surface of my skin.
But I wasn't born with any source of magic. The presence growing inside of me wasn't any more a part of me as Bogdan, which meant I had to close my eyes, lean my head against the cool stone, and fight to maintain control as I directed my mind to the dark, shadowy dimension I sought to travel through.
The wayguard grunted behind me. He never liked my usage of the spirin - even if it was the Circle's own fault that I had it within reach to begin with.
Bogdan wasn't much a fan of anything.
"This is going to hurt," he finally said.
"Thanks for the heads-up."
YOU ARE READING
On Death's Honor
Fantasy"When you're in a place that darkness thrives, you learn to fear the light." "Why?" "Because the light will kill you faster." ------ For as long as she could remember, Wren has lived a rather unconventional life. She's hunted down trolls, bled out w...
