Falling for the Dark Mage: Chapter One

There weren’t many upsides to being the daughter of a criminal, but Seraphina was always used to grasping opportunities. One of the things her mother Phyllida repeated most often to her as a child was: “Look at what you have and think about what you want. Then use what you have to get what you want.”

Seraphina carefully studied the materials on her crafting desk. What she had was a pile of metal scraps and filaments, and another pile of broken glass. And what she wanted was…

Well. That would have to wait…for now. She had other business to take care of.

An image of what she would create lay in her mind’s eye. Focusing on that, she put the fingertips of her right hand together and summoned her Creative magic. Tiny blue sparks appeared around her fingers; she pointed at the shards of metal and concentrated hard, watching as they rose, twisted and fused together. When she was done, a small metal flower had formed and blossomed out of a tiny circular base.

Seraphina caused more blue magic to swirl around the little flower and settle into it; the flower glowed brightly for a moment, then returned to a dull silver.

Now for the glass. Seraphina carefully merged the broken pieces together, one piece at a time, until a small, thin dome reached up and over the flower before sealing it safely away. The glass was already spelled to make it unbreakable; she could hurl it from the highest tower in the fortress into the courtyard, and it would never shatter.

Seraphina loosened the ribbon tying her hair back and shook her head, allowing the long silver-white locks to tumble free. Then she tugged on a pair of black gloves, picked up her little orb, went over to the smaller of the two doors in the craft room and opened it. Cold air stung her face; she shivered once before stepping outside onto the little balcony. The balcony hadn’t been there when she, her mother and the order arrived at the fortress; in fact, none of the balconies were, but it was amazing what some strong stone and Creative magic could do.

Beyond the balcony lay a sprawling white wasteland, with mountains shielding it from the rest of the world. Tiny paths wove up, down and around the mountains; most were well-hidden from the eyes of travellers.

The region lay right on the border between the kingdoms of Vorgravia and Redasniel, and the fortress itself was nestled in an isolated area. Very few people entered the mountain region – not only because it was dangerous, but because Vorgravia and Redasniel did not always have the friendliest history, and from what Seraphina had heard, the peoples of those kingdoms still harboured a wary mistrust of each other, if not an outright dislike.

Amusingly, Vorgravia’s emblem was a sun and Redasniel’s was a moon. No wonder they disliked each other so much; each was destined to be the opposite of the other.

It was winter now, and all the crops had been squeezed from the ground. Apart from the fortress, the only settlement around was a small fishing village.

Seraphina kept a secure hold on the little orb so it wouldn’t be blown away, while making sure it caught the light. It would be getting dark soon, and she wanted the flower to absorb as much light as possible.

Like all mages, Seraphina could use three kinds of magic: Healing, Creative and Warrior. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t have the talents that Phyllida Emris had hoped for.

What Phyllida wanted her only child to be was someone who could use her Creative magic to make curses and charms to be sold in the black market. Seraphina had specialised in Creative magic – as had most of the other mages in her mother’s criminal clan – but she had very little talent for charms and spells and none for curses.

She was good at making clothes, though. And other crafts, but her mother mostly told her to make clothes and disguises for other members of the order.

This little orb – and its sisters waiting in Seraphina’s bedroom – would be her means of survival once she had escaped. She would need a trade if she was going to make her own way in the world.

Just as she was about to go back inside, a strange instinct ran through her, and she looked over the balcony. A solitary figure stood outside the fortress, dark against the snow.

Seraphina frowned. She didn’t recognise him at all. Was he a newcomer to the organisation? If he wasn’t, he was in trouble; nobody outside the order was supposed to know they were there, except for the people in the fishing village.

Four guards came rushing out of the fortress, their hands glowing with golden Warrior magic. The stranger raised his own hands in surrender, but it was a lazy, almost casual gesture instead of one made from fear.

Seraphina was intrigued.

As the guards surrounded him and led him inside, he looked up. Seraphina stilled as their eyes met for a moment and then he was gone, the main door to the fortress closing behind him.

Seraphina went back inside the craft room. Cleaning up would have to wait. She slipped out of the room and into a corridor made from dark grey stone. Torches on the walls guided her as she made her way back to her bedroom.

The other eight flower radiance orbs she’d made lay on her windowsill. Most radiance orbs absorbed sunlight, but Seraphina’s were special in more ways than one: they absorbed natural light. When night fell, that was when the flowers in the orbs would glow brilliant colours. Seraphina placed the newest one next to its sisters and quickly changed out of her work clothes.

She knew she was lucky that the fishing village was also home to a family of athrú, shapeshifters with the ability to transform into wolves, cats, bears or birds – and even luckier that the family were all Birds. They’d greedily accepted her bribes in exchange for information about the ships that visited the fishing village.

One way or another, Seraphina would be free.