Mute

    The soldiers would later claim that the bandit attack had come as a complete surprise, but Dulci knew better. There had been warning signs that the soldiers had refused to see, or else they simply hadn’t cared to try and prevent the fighting. Either option was a fair bet.

    Captain Jeor had shoved her into some rough bushes at the start of the battle and there she stayed, watching through the dying leaves. She was tempted to flee, but there was nowhere to go; they had traveled deep into the canyons called the Ogre’s Pass, there was nothing but cliffs and rocks and caves and pits for miles. Jeor and his men knew the way, but Dulci most certainly did not. Even if she happened upon enough luck to get her from the canyons in one piece, it was a long way to Brookridge, and the road was thick with bandits and monsters and witches.

    Trying to escape now would undoubtedly be suicide. Better to sit and wait out the battle; the victors would claim her as their prize, but that was preferable - if only slightly - to facing the unknown.

    Even if the bandits did win, there was little they could do to her that the soldiers hadn’t already done.

    Dulci hugged herself, even though her shivers had long since stopped.

    The two groups seemed evenly matched at first; the soldiers were better equipped with stronger weapons and tougher armor, but the bandits had numbers and sheer ferocity on their side. They lived in these canyons, surviving the harsh heat, the lack of food and the constant threat to their lives. They were strong, and though the soldiers were cutting into their numbers, they were not faltering.

    Suddenly, the scales tipped violently in favor of the soldiers.

    Though the sliver of sky visible through the canyons was clear and blue, thunder cracked loud enough to drown out the ringing of steel against steel. A bolt of lightning, impossible as it was, streaked through the air close enough to Dulci’s bush that it set her hair on end and put flame to some of the leaves.

    She scrambled from the bush in time to see one of the bandits felled by the bolt, a great black mark scorching his chest where the lightning had hit.

    The second bolt to fly was more mindful of her presence but no less merciless as it took down a second bandit. A violent gust of wind tore away from Jeor the three he was fighting and slammed them against the canyon wall. When the wind let up, they fell to the ground and were still.

    Dulci looked around for the new arrival as the bandits, their numbers halved in the span of a few seconds, gave up the battle and fled.

    A man was standing not far from where her hiding place was slowly burning. Electricity still crackled around his fingers as he watched the bandits escape; only when they were out of sight did he turn his gaze on Dulci.

    He was not a man she would have expected to see in this wild place; tall and slender, he was dressed in long silver robes trimmed in black and covered in a strange swirling design stitched in a pale blue, wide sleeves obscuring his hands completely when he relaxed from the defensive stance he’d been in. His hair, she noticed, was a soft lavender color, cut short save for two locks on either side of his face that fell just past his jaw. His eyes were a deep purple, only mildly curious as he observed her in return.

    Dulci knew she was a sight, and not in the same way he was. She’d gotten scrawny these past few weeks on the road; though she was almost fifteen she hardly looked it. Her dress, once a pretty, pure white, was dirty and torn, and her long hair was a wild tangle. She was a mess, and this man… well. He looked like he belonged more in a library, or a Temple, than out here.

    Jeor suddenly barked something after the bandits, and the sound spurred Dulci into movement. She didn’t think about the fact that this man was a mage and that she didn’t even know him; she ran forward, closing the distance between them, and seized hold of the strangers’ sleeve.

    He was neither soldier nor bandit, and at the moment, that was more than enough.

    The man looked down at her but didn’t say anything, nor did he try to push her away.

    “Oy, girl,” Malcolm snapped to her, but Jeor spoke over him and the implied command went unheeded.

    “Lucky for us you showed up when you did, friend,” the captain said to the mage, still panting after the battle. He was getting on in years but was still a bear of a man, still as fierce and formidable as any of the younger soldiers. “Those rogues nearly had us stuffed.” His tone was light but he still held his sword, the blade still dripping bandit blood.

    “I noticed,” the mage replied, directing his steady gaze to Jeor. “I don’t often come across a company of soldiers in the Pass… What’re you doing here?”

    “We were taking the young lady to Brookridge,” Jeor explained, finally sheathing his sword when he was apparently satisfied that the mage wasn’t going to turn on them. “I wasn’t expecting the thugs here to be so well-equipped, I’d’ve brought more men to protect the poor girl.”

    Dulci couldn’t suppress a shudder.

    “Brookridge is a long way,” the mage observed softly. “If you have need of an extra pair of hands, I would be happy to lend my aid. I daresay I know the easiest path out of the Pass.”

    “We don’t need your help, spell caster,” Will retorted.

    “Ah, I’m not one to refuse aid when it’s offered,” Jeor put in, glaring at his subordinate. “We’re obviously not in our element.” He turned back to the mage and nodded. “We could use a guide. What’s your name, friend?”

    The mage seemed to start to say something, then shrugged slightly and answered the question instead.

    “Lulluce,” he said, and rested his hand gently on Dulci’s shoulder.

    Suddenly, with that simple touch, she thought she was safer than she’d been in a long time.

    ----------

    Night fell early within the canyons, and it wasn’t long after the battle that the men were setting up camp. Dulci stayed out of the way, lingering in the sparse, dry grass and watching what little of the sky that could be seen as it changed from light to dark.

    She wanted to go home, back to the Temple in Estarisk. It was a simple place, little more than an altar with a kitchen and a living quarters for the acolytes, but she’d been happy there. Mother Vittanya had told her that she was going to the proper Temple in Brookridge to complete her studies, and to learn all she could about the gods and goddesses, before she would be sent to the Grand Cathedral in the capitol. She wasn’t sure what she would do there, and at the moment she didn’t care. She wanted to go home.    

    These men were in service to the Temple and had been charged with protecting her and escorting her to Brookridge. Mother Vittanya had promised her she would be safe, but these men had recently come back from fighting a war in the south. They weren’t interested in protecting a little girl.

    What they were interested in was something Dulci had had no intention of giving them. But they never gave her much of a choice.

    “She never speaks,” Lulluce observed during supper that night. Dulci was sitting with her back to the fire and pretended not to hear, watching a colony of ants march their way across the cracked ground.

    “She’s a mute,” Malcolm explained. “They plan on putting her on display or some nonsense in the Temple.”

    “We’re supposed to be meeting with one of the Kings’ men within the next few days,” Jeor said, scratching at his beard. “He’ll take her the rest of the way.”

    Dulci glanced over her shoulder at that, a little surprised by the new information. Her eyes found Lulluce first, and the thoughtful look on his face.

    “A single man?” he wondered.

    “He must be one of them Rangers or something if he’s coming alone,” Jeor agreed, before shrugging. “Ah well. Nothing we can’t handle,” he mused, and then changed the subject. “What sort of magic can you do? Aside from shooting lightning.”

    “And why are you living out here, instead of in the Academy?” Gregory wanted to know.

    “Mages are only required to live in the Academy until they come of age,” Lulluce replied after a brief silence. “And my magic is primarily plant-based, for my herbs. I only learned the lightning spell to frighten off crows and the occasional troll that wanders too close to my house.”

    “Still, it’s a powerful spell,” Jeor observed. “Seems like it could be useful.”

    Dulci stood as the men talked and left the firelight, wandering just outside the camp. She didn’t go far; Will and Baek were on watch, and she didn’t want either of them to catch her on her own.

    She had thought these men were bringing her all the way to Brookridge; or rather, she’d thought that they were supposed to be doing so, before their plans had evidently changed. The knowledge that they were meeting someone else part of the way was interesting, if only mildly.

    She had no doubt the man was going to be killed, Ranger or no.

    It wasn’t terribly long before footsteps followed her, soft and light on the ground; she didn’t look around to see who it was. It didn’t matter - she hated them all with equal measure.

    Whoever it was didn’t touch her, however, instead settling down on the ground beside her. Surprised, she turned to find Lulluce, calmly plucking withered blades of pale red grass from the ground.

    “These are very good for bruises,” he commented lightly, and Dulci felt her face heat up in a blush.

    She didn’t have many bruises - the soldiers had been careful not to leave them, most of the time - and she hadn’t expected that Lulluce would take notice of them, or care.

    She watched in silence as he withdrew a length of soft cloth from an inner pocket of his robe, as well as a small vial of a clear liquid. He wrapped the grass on the cloth, soaked it in the liquid, and handed it to her.

    “Just apply it to the bruises, it will help them heal faster.”

    Dulci hesitated, then sat down slowly and pressed the cloth to a mark on her calf.

    They sat quietly for a time; the sounds of Jeor and his men talking at the campfire was dull at this distance, the words difficult to make out. Aside from that there was the occasional call of some night bird, the gentle rustle of dry leaves on what little breeze there was. Dulci tended to her bruises, surprised when the cloth seemed to wipe them away like so much dirt, and only glanced toward Lulluce once to find him quietly gathering thin layers of dirt into a thicker pile.

    “Those men haven’t said your name,” he said at length, earning her attention; once again, she was surprised that he’d noticed. “What is it?” he asked, and then drew a line in his dirt pile. “Can you write it?”

    She nodded and wrote the letters with the tip of her finger.

    “So you know your letters,” he observed. “You can read, as well? And count?”

    Dulci nodded, and the mage seemed oddly satisfied with the knowledge.

    “Dulci. Named for the Silent Goddess,” he noted softly. “You’ve been with these men for a while. Are they kind to you?”

    The question struck her as odd; he had, after all, been the one to point out that they never used her name. The bruises could be passed off as her own clumsiness, but they only called her ‘girl’.

    Still, perhaps he was merely curious as to what her reaction would be. Would she complain that they were mean and didn’t know her name? Would she deny any sort of mistreatment and claim they were kind? She couldn’t tell him what they’d done, not really; she had no voice, no method of writing down what she wanted to say, and even if she had such a method, could she bring herself to utilize it?

    Perhaps her hesitation was answer enough, because Lulluce stopped looking at her. He turned his gaze out to the patches of trees and thicket, the canyon walls, the strip of starry sky above them.

    Even without his gaze on her, it was difficult to breathe.

    “I wonder, Dulci,” he said quietly after a few moments, “if you’ll let me see your memories.” He looked at her again and gave the faintest smile at her questioning look. “It won’t hurt. I just want to see what’s been done to you.”

    Dulci blinked at that. If he had the ability to see inside her mind, he could see what had been done.

    As humiliating as it was, she wanted to tell someone, didn’t she? Wanted to prevent these men from hurting others, and without her voice, this could be her only chance.

    So she nodded, and closed her eyes as he touched his fingertips to her forehead.

    “Relax,” he told her softly, and the images came to her mind without her bidding.

    The first abuse had been at Malcolm’s hands, just a few nights after leaving Estarisk, and had continued almost every night since. Jeor had never touched her, but nor had he stopped his men from doing so, and he had been the one to attempt to sell her to the bandits. He had been the one who devised the plan to take her hostage and ransom her back to the Temple, or to whomever paid the most.

    The memories were startling, clear and thrown into stark relief after she’d spent so much time trying to forget them, but Dulci got through it more easily than she’d been expecting. It was as though she was watching someone else’s experience; still horrible, still terrifying and sad, but not quite as painful.

    Strangely, showing someone else made breathing just a little easier.

    She blinked her eyes open when Lulluce took his fingers away; it felt like ages had passed, but she knew it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. She looked up at the mage and was a little surprised to find the softness in his eyes was gone, replaced by something dark and dangerous.

    “I’m sorry, Dulci,” he said quietly, but he didn’t sound sad. Fury rode his voice instead and made her shiver, and not in a bad way. “This won’t happen again. You’re under my protection, now.”

----------

    Two days of relatively easy travel passed, and Dulci realized that she hadn’t left Lulluce’s sight for the entirety. Even during times when she thought she was alone, she could look around and Lulluce would be there, harvesting the leaves of some plant or talking to whoever was on watch. He was always nearby, always close, and his presence preventing the soldiers from attempting anything.    

    It was not earning the mage much favor among the men; Malcolm in particular seemed to take offense to his presence entirely.

    If Lulluce noticed the animosity, he gave no indication.

    They faced no further dangers in the Pass; no animals or bandits or monsters, nothing for several days. For a little while, the journey was almost peaceful.

    It wasn’t until their final night in the Pass that anything changed.

    Dulci was sitting on her own; the forest was particularly dense here, and she found herself watching the shadows frequently. Lulluce had told her stories of the creatures that lived here, and not the bad ones; kind spirits and fairies, beings of nature that kept to themselves and didn’t harm anyone.

    She’d begun to imagine that she could see something like that - a fairy, perhaps - but her concentration was ruined by approaching footsteps. They were too heavy to be Lulluce, whose pace was light and almost silent, and she looked up, hardly surprised to find Malcolm there.

    “Where’s your guard dog, girl?” he wondered with a mocking leer. “Strange he’s not with you.”

    Dulci blinked at him slowly, then looked back to the trees. Strangely, she couldn’t bring herself to be afraid of him anymore, not when he was so obviously afraid of Lulluce.

    A large hand grabbed the front of her dress and dragged her around to face him, hauling her easily to her feet. She gripped his wrist, her small hands barely able to wrap fully around it, and looked up into his enraged face.

    “Don’t ignore me, you little b***h,” he snarled, flecks of spit flying at her face. “Some mage starts following you around and you think that makes you safe, do you?” He shook her, dragging her feet on the ground, but she didn’t take her gaze from him. “He won’t stop us from killing the Kings’ Ranger, or from selling you to whatever depraved b*****d wants you. And he won’t stop me from doing whatever I want with you before then.” He shoved her and she staggered back and hit the ground on her hip. She sat up but didn’t retreat as he came near; her heart was racing, but she was calm. She wasn’t afraid.

    Malcolm didn’t move further than a step or two before something hurtled from the camp in a flash of white and purple. In the time it took Dulci to blink Lulluce was there, his presence as silent as it had been sudden. He stood before Dulci, his back to her, his hand reached out and spread across Malcolms’ face.

    Malcolm didn’t move; at first Dulci thought he was simply surprised by his abrupt new opponent, but several seconds passed and he didn’t react or try to pull from that hand. His eyes were wide and unblinking between Lulluces’ long fingers, fixated on the mage.

    “Are you paying attention?” Lulluce asked softly. “I need you focused.” He tightened his hold and Malcolm slowly sank to his knees, utterly obedient; he didn’t fight, or try for his sword, or say a word in protest. Only knelt and stared.

    Several moments passed in silence. Even the wind had settled, the creatures of the forest gone quiet. Dulci watched what looked from the outside to be a battle of wills, but somehow she knew that wasn’t the case. Something was shifting in the air, whispering; Lulluce, calm and steady, was entirely in control.

    Finally, he withdrew his hand and released Malcolm from whatever he’d bound him with. The soldier gasped as though he hadn’t breathed in days, sweat suddenly pouring down his face and soaking his shirt. The color fled his face and he looked like he was going to be ill.

    Lulluce crouched before him, his robes pooling on the ground around him. “Do you understand now?” he wondered, quiet and dangerous. Dulci could only just barely hear him. “What you and those other men have done is beyond forgiveness, Malcolm. The Silent Goddess will not look upon the lot of you with kindness.”

    He straightened, standing tall, and glanced briefly over his shoulder. “I don’t recommend you watch this, Dulci,” he said. “Malcolm is going to have a very long night.”

----------

    When Lulluce and Dulci returned to camp the sun had begun to rise. A light, chill mist hung over the ground within the Pass, the air bathed a faint blue in the early morning when the sun hadn’t quite taken over the land just yet.

    The soldiers had stripped the camp in preparation for moving on. Captain Jeor was the first to notice the pair of them and straightened from his packing.

    “Where have you been?” he asked gruffly. “And where’s Malcolm? He never reported for watch last night.”

    Dulci clung to Lulluce’s sleeve, almost able to hide entirely behind the broad fabric, but Lulluce was unperturbed. He held a bundle of cloth in the hand Dulci wasn’t occupying, and at the prompting he held it out.

    “Here he is,” he said, and tossed it to the ground. The cloth fell open at Jeors’ feet and a pile of burned, blood-stained bones spilled out, along with Malcolm’s large hands and feet.

    “Well,” Lulluce amended softly. “What’s left of him is here.”

    Briefly, Jeor was too stunned to react. The other men had arrived by then, shock coloring their faces, which Dulci had a difficult time understanding. They’d been to war, surely they’d seen things worse than this.

    But perhaps she was still a bit detached. She had just watched Lulluce draw those bones from Malcolm’s body, using magic to drag them out, tearing the mans’ muscles and veins and skin open in the process, and he’d kept Malcolm alive for the duration, smothering his voice so he couldn’t scream. It would be difficult to be shocked by anything after that.

    Finally the Captain gathered his bearings and swore, drawing his sword. “What’s this about, mage? You’ve no right to -”

    “Right?” Lulluce interrupted. “What you men have done is not only treason against the crown but against the Temple as well. You’ve abandoned your roles, gone back on your sworn word to protect this girl. I not only have the right, I have the authority and responsibility to stop you.”

    Gregory started forward, his hand on his sword, and Lulluce shot him a dark look. A violent wind suddenly picked up, but instead of knocking Gregory back as it had done with the bandits, it tore through him as easily as if it were blades instead of air. Blood flew as he fell to the ground in pieces, dead before he even had the time to scream.

    “Is it not strange that the Kings’ Ranger hasn’t yet met you?” Lulluce wondered, looking back to Jeor. “You plan to betray and kill him. The lot of you against a lone Ranger… you might have succeeded. But the King didn’t send any Ranger. He sent me.”

    Dulci stepped back from him, the air around his hands crackling with power. She didn’t want to get caught in the middle.

    “I am Mage Lord of the Realm in service to the crown,” Lulluce told them. “And you deserve nothing less than execution for what you’ve done. At my hands you’re going to feel what this girl felt; terrified, overpowered, and entirely helpless.” He smiled then, almost manically. “You’re free to try and run.”

    Will and Baek did try, fleeing the camp almost before the offer was made, but they didn’t get far. They were swiftly overtaken by some bizarre beasts that Lulluce conjured from the mist; massive beings in the shape of dogs that howled as they gave chase. Will and Baek screamed as they were caught and torn into; it was several long moments before silence fell and the creatures vanished as though they’d never been there at all.

    “Captain Jeor,” Lulluce said, stepping toward him. The captain raised his sword but Lulluce brushed it aside and the blade shattered like glass.

    “You never touched Dulci,” the mage said calmly. “For that, you will live. But you failed to protect her, attempted to sell her into slavery, and plotted to betray the crown. For that… perhaps a fate worse than death.” He reached out and seized Jeor’s face, the same way he had done with Malcolm, but the effect was far more immediate, and not quite the same. Jeor yelled and fought as the spell was cast, but couldn’t break free as his strength was rapidly leeched from his body. His muscles shrank, his skin wrinkled and sagged as the color bled from his hair, leaving it white and thin. His face, when Lulluce removed his hand, was sunken, almost skeletal. He no longer had the strength to hold the handle of his sword and let it thump on the ground.

    “A shell of your former self,” Lulluce said softly as Jeor staggered back, feeling at his face and looked at his hands in horror. “I’ve taken your next twenty years. I don’t expect you have many left. Use them wisely, Jeor. I suggest you stay on the main road when you leave the Pass - not many will want a soul as rotten and old as yours, but sometimes the desperate are worse than the strong, eh?”

    And then, calmly, he turned to Dulci and held out his hand. She ran forward to take it, and together they left the camp, continuing on their way through the Pass.

    They’d gone half a mile before Jeor began his howling, but Lulluce ignored it, and it wasn’t long before the noise was nothing but an echo.

    ----------

    Leaving the Pass was easy, and finally Dulci was on open road under the wide sky. She’d never felt so free, so safe and at ease, she didn’t even mind the long walk before her.

    The flatlands seemed to stretch on forever, nothing but grass and sky, before it eventually turned to forest, thick and winding, but there was a clear-cut path for travelers. Captain Jeor’s men had told her horrible stories of the monsters that lived here but the place was beautiful, the trees the biggest Dulci had ever seen, and strange, colorful flowers everywhere.

    On their third night, Lulluce gently woke her from sleep and silently pointed into the trees. It was dark, but that only made it easier to see what he was indicating, something that almost glowed.

    Dulci rubbed at her eyes and went still at the sight.

    It was a large horse, a pure gold-white, with a single golden horn protruding from the center of its’ forehead. It noticed them and watched for a few moments with soulful eyes of a deep blue, before turning and making its’ way into the deeper parts of the forest.

    “A nature spirit,” Lulluce explained quietly. “They don’t often show themselves to travelers. It must have sensed the gods’ presence in you and known it was safe.”

    Dulci blinked at where the spirit had been, her eyes wide. It had felt safe because she was there?

    She wondered if Lulluce always felt as powerful as she did just then.

    She couldn’t sleep after that so they continued walking even though it was still dark; the light of the moon and stars guided their way, and Lulluce assured her that they were in no danger here. In spite of the stories the soldiers had told her, she believed him.

    By morning they found a small cobblestone bridge that arched over a gentle river, and after only another mile or so, they were in Brookridge. The people of the little town knew Dulci and greeted her kindly; even the mayor came to meet her, and to thank Lulluce for escorting her.

    Lulluce didn’t leave her until they reached the Temple, a modest but pretty building in the center of town. Mother Aricia, who was still quite young herself, emerged to meet them She hugged Dulci and protested in a grandmotherly way at the state of her dress.

    “We ran into a bit of trouble in the Ogres’ Pass,” Lulluce explained lightly. “But she is unharmed.”

    “Thank you for protecting her, Mage Lord,” Aricia said. “She will be taken care of here. I only wish there was some way we could repay you.”

    “That isn’t necessary,” Lulluce replied, before looking to Dulci. He pulled something from an inner pocket of his robe and knelt before her, offering it up.

    Dulci accepted it curiously. It was a ribbon of blue silk, a tiny glass orb dangling from it. Within the orb, she saw, was an even tinier shard of reflective purple stone.

    “I have to return to my duties in the capitol,” Lulluce told her. “But I leave you with this. If you ever have need of me, just use this to call me, and wherever you are I promise I’ll find you. All right?”

    Dulci nodded once, and then couldn’t help herself; she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

    He hugged her, and when he pulled back he brushed away a single tear that escaped her eye.

    “Be brave, Dulci. You’re very strong. I’m sure I’ll see you in the Grand Cathedral very soon.”

    He stood and nodded to Aricia, who thanked him again.

    In the time it took Aricia to tie the silk ribbon around Dulci’s neck for her, the Mage Lord was gone.