Gina walked through the empty corridors of the west wing where she resided, then took a turn towards the main hall. She was shocked by the lack of guards, but she proceeded. Nearing the main hall, she pulled up her hood and dropped into a crouch.She was thrilled.Gina felt like an assassin creeping with a mission in mind and discretion as her weapon. The hallways to the main hall were too bright to creep through, and with four guards posted, Gina had to come up with something. She peered out, searching for a route, and she saw one—just right before the first guard there was a corridor that led south in the direction of the keep.
She took out three coppers from her hood's pocket and jammed them between the fingers of her left hand. But first, she stretched her right, tapping into the arcane—not from within, but from the bright mana lamps. She left their essence, and she drew it. The mana lamps began to dim, with most snuffing out completely. The hall was now teetering towards darkness.
She then switched. She sought her talent, her mind now focused on the coins.They began to float, dangling upright. Steady, she said to herself. She intensified the chaotic energy around the coins, compressing it, then she released in a controlled burst. The coins shot out, zooming past the first guard and into a vestigial hallway—one completely embraced by the darkness.
The guards were shaken. In panic, they gripped their spears, ready to skewer the intruders. Gina moved. Her feet skimmed through the hallway as she clumsily sneaked into the corridor. Once through, she broke into a run. The corridor wasn't as lengthy as most, and she made it to the first turn before the guard could return. Now within the confines of the southern region of the castle, she felt safer. The rooms housed various in-house workers. The halls were terribly lit and lacked guards because her father deemed it a waste of manpower.
Gina was heaving, desperate gasps of air wheezing into her lungs, as the brisk run had been a strenuous endeavor for her. Her legs were cramping as she went back to crouching. She kept close to the walls, where darkness was safe. She kept on—one turn after the next—until she found herself at the courtyard that sprawled towards the keep.
The courtyard was silent and lacked guards. Gina was now concerned—the lack of guards was alarming. She wasn't that ignorant to not notice, but the worry washed away as quickly as it washed up.It's even better for me, she told herself.
Gina moved towards the gate at the keep. The gate was only to be used when supplies were being brought in or for anything not meant for the public eye. As she approached, the shuffle of feet spooked her. She reached out, strands of power pulsing to life. She latched herself against the castle walls. The cover of darkness shielded her. The gates creaked, then opened.
Two guards poured in, spears in hand. One locked the gate with a padlock before they left, breaking into aimless chatter. Once out of sight, Gina moved to the gate. The strands of power still within grasp, she channeled them into the padlock. She tugged the strands, dismantling the padlock. She slowly opened the door—and she was finally free.
Gina didn't have to wait long. Til approached, a heavy hood covering her."Thought you wouldn't show."
"I wouldn't miss this for the world," Gina answered.
Til led her to the streets. The North Borough was silent. The silhouette of the ancient houses was daunting, the dim mana lamps buzzing, furthering the eerie feeling. Til was silent, lacking the enthusiasm that was signature to her. They walked in silence until they found a carriage. They boarded.
"To Widow Street," Til said.
"That'll be 25 coppers."
Gina reached for her pockets, but Til stopped her. Her face bore a warm smile and eyes that screamed my treat. Til paid the driver and they were off.
Gina was never out at this hour. Her head was almost out of the window as they rode through the Eastern Borough. She wowed at the clash of colors, but once she began scrutinizing every nook and cranny, she picked up on the profanity ongoing through the borough. The rowdy and almost lawless nature of the Eastern Borough made her feel some type of way. Not used to the prevalent displays of debauchery, she felt her gut twist and wrench. To her, it was archaic—uncouth. Something that was the norm with the barbarians from the north.
Til was laughing at Gina, amused by her scowl at the occurrences. The disgust on Gina's face was amusing to her. She understood that this side of the world was hard for some to digest. The some were nobles who did these things in hiding. Like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Acting all meek to the public, but once eyes were averted, they would pounce. Ravaging the world with their obscenities. Filling the void in their lives with erotic tendencies that would barely be termed human.To Til, that was what nobles were—hypocrites in all ways and form. She really hoped Gina was different. Tonight, she would discover just that.
Gina felt less aggravated when they turned towards Widow Street. Like typical Southside avenues, the streets were dark, long, and empty. Noise was confined within the homes of the residents, none of it daring enough to spill onto the street. The carriage ground down to Til's home. The lights were on, and a silhouette of a young man drew itself in the dimly lit porch.
Gina was then apprehensive, turning to Til. She could tell Til knew who the man was.
They stepped out.
Til approached Cian, who was waiting for her.
"Took you long enough," Cian said.
"Change of plans," Til smiled as she grabbed Gina's hand, pulling her closer and up a step.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Gina," she stretched her other hand out—not in greeting—but waiting for Cian to take it and kiss it lightly, as men would in balls.
Cian stood awkwardly. He took Gina's hand, shaking it sideways, wondering what kind of handshake that was. Til broke into a hearty laugh.
"You're supposed to kiss it, stupid!"
"Oh, fuck!" Cian said, quickly kissing the back of the hand. "I take it you're The Gina."
"Yes, I am," Gina replied.
"The kids from the orphanage talk only good things about you. And all you do for them," Cian bowed. "And for that—thank you."
Gina was thrilled that she was a blessing to others. Not seen through the same lens her father saw through. At first, she did it as a duty. She believed it was her responsibility to help those who could not, being of nobility and all. The constant visits then turned into something more as time went by. The children did not care who she was or how she looked. They looked up to her to provide what they could not have, and Gina was doing a great job at it.Cian's appreciation warmed her heart. It felt nice.
"Are we still going?" Cian asked.
"Yeah, let me get a few things," Til rushed into the house.
Gina and Cian stayed in irritable silence.
Gina then noticed Cian's arcane flare, then turn prickly in a split second—as if he was reaching for it all while trying to be subtle. It wasn't.
"Control it," Gina posed.
"What is?"
"Your magic. It's getting out of control."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Cian feigned disinterest.
Gina stepped toward him. "I can sense it, so stop pretending. It's not even a secret."
Cian just looked away, saying nothing.
"You don't know how to," Gina taunted. "You know you're a mage?"
"I only know that much."
Gina laughed, in a ladylike, almost refined manner.
"What's funny?" Cian got aggressive.
"Relax. It's funny to find another mage in this backward city."
"How many are there?"
Gina moved next to Cian, leaning on the edge of the porch as he did. "Now three."
"The third one is the crazy chick."
"What crazy chick?" Gina was invested.
"You know, the one with specs and black military uniform. Rolls with a nefarious knight."
"No, I don't. Then it's four," Gina commented.
"Who's the fourth?" Cian asked.
"Can't say," Gina said. "What do you know about magic?"
"Only on talents. What's yours?"
"Telekinesis. You?"
"Telepathy."
Gina changed posture. "Let's do this. Til will bring you some beginner books, then once done, I'll teach a thing or two."
"What's in it for you?" Cian was skeptical.
"You'll owe me an invocable favor."
"What's invocable mean?"
"You cannot refuse," Gina replied.
"Sounds like a trap," Cian sighed. "I accept. You don't get to learn magic for free."
They broke into small talk—mostly about the oncoming feast. Cian tried to know who was coming, but Gina was in the dark as much as he was. Til opened the door. She was dressed in a fitting black dress, then covered it with a cloak. Both Gina and Cian could only stare in silence. All mesmerized in different ways.
"My lovelies are getting to know each other," Til teased.
They looked away. Cian walked onto the street.
"Let's get going already," Cian urged.
"Okay! Okay!" Til exclaimed.
They followed Cian. They didn't go too far when they were approached by two men—both of whom Cian found familiar.
"Fat freak is looking for you," one said, looking at Cian.
"I'm off tonight," Cian walked past them.
"He called for you. He said, 'We tell you—it's time.'"
Cian turned to Gina and Til, all smiles.
"Go. I'll come later," Cian left with the men.
Til and Gina continued down the street.
"Fat freak?" Gina asked.
"Yeah, Fat Freal Stan."
Gina bobbed her head, denying any familiarity with the name. Til, in her usual manner—"Oh, magic girl, he's the biggest pimp in the city. Cian works for him."
Before Gina could pose another question, Til took her hand, pulling her forward. "We're gonna be late."Gina only smiled, rushing along.