AETHERMERE

Sophie Manley

Sapphic Fantasy Romance

~95,000 words

Chapter One

Auren squinted into the darkness, trying to spot the guilders she’d followed to the rosetree gardens from the city. Her stomach was a knot of excitement as she caught a ripple just beyond the rosebush, behind which she was crouched.

            It was her dream to join the Golden Guild one day, but for now, she’d settle for a bit of light stalking, reckless though it was.

            If she was caught spying, who knows what they’d do to her. Perhaps chuck her in the same prison they put the dangerous and unstable deviants they were hunting. She thought of her mother, sat at the kitchen table waiting for her to get home, and a pit of guilt opened in her stomach. She shook it away. This was worth the risk. Especially if she got to see them capture a deviant.

She fought the urge to sneeze. She placed a shaky hand on the strong-smelling pink rose in front of her and pushed it away, peering over the top. Starlight caressed the petals of the roses which grew in clumps beside tall trees around the park. She waited for them to advance. The mindroot-woven cloaks they wore rendered them invisible in stillness, but translucent in movement as reality distorted around them leaving visible ripples.  

            Quietly, carefully, she stretched out her legs to alleviate the tingling in them, cringing at the rustle in the bush as her cloak caught. She wiped the sweat dripping down the backs of her knees, which was a small mercy considering she was sticky and sweating from head to toe. They were in the middle of sun season in the Kingdom of Haldrin, and the capital, Velmora, was particularly warm, even though it was night.

Two guilders converged just ahead of her, their ripples appearing and disappearing quickly as they headed deeper into the park and away from the city. She watched more ripples disappear into the distance then stood quietly and followed, finding cover where she could, though Auren had her own mindroot cloak.

She’d found it in a second-hand market stall a few years back. Cloaks like that were rare and expensive, but the merchant was novice. She’d fought back a grin as he accepted two silvers for it.

Shouts broke the silence.

Ripples appeared like zig zagging lines and sharp points as they shot forward. Auren abandoned caution and ran after them through a small patch of trees, exhilaration flooding her body. Twigs snapped and leaves rustled underfoot, though the sounds were disguised by the guilders’ own.

She emerged into a small glade, a gushing river cutting through its heart. A lone man stood at its shore, visible only for a moment before he made a spell with his hands and morphed into shadow. Auren gasped. How had he made himself invisible with mere magic alone? Neither mystic nor aether was capable of that kind of spell. Her heart pounded, pulse ringing in her ears, as she realised that she had come face to face with an actual deviant.

            Lights flashed through the clearing and Auren leapt back into the treeline. She tasted the bitter tang of magic as spells flew; their wielders smoke and glimmers in the night. A funnel of water rose out of the river and formed into a monstrous creature, hardening to ice – aether magic; the wielding of physical and elemental forces. It stomped through the glade, kicking high into the air and stamping icy feet on the ground.

The clearing filled with the sounds of thumping bodies, crunching bones, and screams of pain. Auren felt sick, scanning the darkness for any sign of life, terrified she’d be discovered, or caught in the crossfire. Most of the guilders remained hidden, but as the water monster continued his attack, meeting resistance at unseen figures, dismembered limbs at odd angles became visible as cloaks slipped, and blood pooled on the ground.

            Auren couldn’t draw enough breath. She had never witnessed anything like this before. The previous times she’d followed guilders had led to dead ends, their ripples lost to the distance.

            She ducked instinctively as fireballs flew towards the monster, clutching the tree for support and pulling her cloak more firmly round herself. Not that it would protect her from the elements. The flames combined into a fiery tornado which melted the ice monster, though charred flesh joined the scent of magic and blood. Auren retched into the ground, holding her nose and clutching her stomach.

            Following the guilders had seemed like a game, before. A challenge. Not anymore. Fear replaced excitement; she hadn’t been fully aware of the true danger of a deviant magician. This was one man, against at least twenty guilders. And he was still fighting. She couldn’t help but feel a deepening admiration for the Golden Guild. Only the most talented magicians made it into their ranks, and she was determined to be one of them.

            She rose to her feet and backed away from the clearing, feeling behind her for the shape of trees as she placed each careful foot.

            A psychic wave passed through the clearing, paralysing her, a presence gripping her mind, its claws keeping her still. Most of the ripples had disappeared, their wielders paralysed, though she glimpsed some ripples, some disembodied limbs, their owners immune to the mystic spell.

            A loud cry of pain and the deviant appeared, head whipping back and blood spouting from his nose. He struck back against air, his punches thudding against unseen flesh. This man was clearly skilled and powerful, though possessing both aether and mystic made him unstable and unpredictable. She’d heard of deviants going mad, turning on their own families. Loved ones slaughtered in their beds. They were Haldrin’s greatest threat. That’s why they were hunted by the Golden Guild. And she’d put herself right in one’s path.

The orange light of flames burst from him as he ripped the cloaks from the guilders with whom he was duelling, exposing their uniforms beneath. Solid black trousers, plain black tee shirts with a golden triangle stitched into the breast; the symbol of the Golden Guild.

He retreated to the river. His foot slipped and he was fighting from one knee, defending himself against the two remaining guilders. The metallic clash of weapons and grunts of exertion filled the glade, each clash ripping through Aurens insides, echoing inside her head. She could barely breathe, barely think.

All she’d ever wanted was to join the guild, but was she signing herself up for a death sentence?

A ripple behind the man alerted her to another unseen guilder, then a dagger appeared high in the air, glinting as it descended towards the man.

            “Don’t kill him!” A scream from a female voice; one of the fighting guilders, though she was too late. The dagger plunged into the side of the man and he howled, a blood curdling, agonised sound. Auren recoiled, watching the man fall, clutching the dagger at his side. He still fought, though pitifully, shoving guilders with decreasing vigour.

            “We needed him subdued!” the unseen guilder shouted in defiance, ripping off his cloak.

            The female guilder drew out handcuffs and shoved them on the man, clicking them into place. The mind hold dropped away as the man was now incapacitated by the nightweed. The metal was imbued with a parasitic plant that caused magical inertia. Auren slumped against a tree, breathing hard, as other guilders got up off the ground, and pulled off their cloaks.

            The female guilder rounded on the man who had stabbed the deviant. “But not at the cost of life.”

            “No, just our own,” he growled in response.

            “We follow orders. This is the job. If you don’t like it, tough.”

            The man seemed to hesitate as if planning his rebuttal, before turning away, helping the other injured guilders. Her words seemed harsh, though Aurens’ sense of duty had her agreeing with the woman.

The deviant kneeled on the ground clutching his side. Auren stared at him. She’d always wondered whether deviants would look different, but he didn’t. Rather ordinary, in fact. No hint of the madness she knew was inside of him. He had long, red, hair; freckled skin; loose, dirty clothing. Young, not much older than she was, perhaps in his early twenties.

He slid to the ground. In the darkness, his red hair blurred with the blood that soaked his tee shirt.

“Get him bandaged up,” the female guilder barked, and another guilder pulled out medical supplies from a bag. She turned towards Auren. A long, red, gash in her cheek wept down her neck, and she gestured, a come here motion. Auren froze, petrified. Holding her breath, she sank into the tree, but another guilder stepped out of the shadows.

A messenger, just two trees away; there was always one who abstained from fighting, even if they were the last guilder alive.

“Yes, captain,” he responded, clipped and formal.

“Let the general know we’ve got him, and that we need healers.”

The messenger disappeared through the trees. This was her chance, she realised, to leave under the cover of his movements.

She’d seen enough, and the risk of being caught increasing with each moment she stayed. Once she was out of the trees and back in the park, she wrapped her cloak tightly around herself and ran, longing for home, for the comfort of her bed. She slowed only when buildings, street lamps and fences surrounded her. Candles and magelights from uncurtained windows lit her way as she walked. She took deep steadying breaths, though none were fully satisfying, as she headed in the direction of her mothers’ flat near the centre.

As she drew close, she sent a silent prayer to Theron and Silva that her mother hadn’t waited up for her. She only had enough capacity for one dangerous magician that night.

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