A Break From Stress. (Short Stories)

Alcomy of Souls 1 (a dark fantasy)

Muriel had never meant to be just a simple apprentice in training for one of the six great sorcerers of the great realm.

Elysium was an extended province of the eternal realm Elaria. A world where every single form of magic co-exists together. Every single form of magic except sorcery, that is.

condemned to extinction since the discovery of their dark origins, sorcerers of all kinds had been hunted down by the guardians of Elaria who were the protectors of the eternal realm, and their primary duty was to keep the beauty and harmony of Elaria flowing peacefully. Which the malevolent presence of sorcery's dark origins contradicted greatly.

Back then, any captured sorcerer that did not swear a blood-binding oath was executed immediately. The blood-binding oath was an irreversible vow of the Spirit that holds the swearer to an eternal agreement of a blood bond between their blood magic and the blood crystal that was used to initiate the permanent bond. If one binds their blood to the blood crystal, he irreversibly hands over a greater fraction of his powers to the crystals, leaving him with no more than whispers of his former magic.

The guardians saw this as a way to tame the darkness of sorcery in the land, ever since the prophecy of permanent darkness staining Elaria's arising began forewarning from every oracle's mouths. Having interpreted and seeking to banish the darkness before it strikes, the guardians came to approach the wielders of the darkest magic, which were the sorcerers and presented them with the treaty of the blood-binding oath. The sorcerers refused to give up their powers to the crystals, dark as it might truly be whenever they wielded. This led to the beginning of the slaying of sorcerers everywhere in the land. Sorcerers fell, and even after that, the survivors rebelled, which plunged the harmonious Elaria into chaos.

After all the disarray and mayhem across the land, the sorcerers fell once again, and any survivor that wanted to carry on living was made to swear the blood-binding oath. Sorcerers had become outcasts after that because the people of Elaria had refused to accept them as one for the destruction they had bestowed upon the land.

This was exactly why when Muriel had discovered her magic and the darkness entwined with it, she had hidden it from the world. And when she had been peeping through the door of her mother's chambers as she heard her mother's royal adviser say solemnly; 'it's time to put down the crown, Selestia. You did all you could, now let Muriel pick up the crown and take your place. She had fled far away. Picked up her warmest cloak and abandoned her people and her dying mother and ran away.

They were not her people. Not with the level of hatred the mers had for the sorcerers. Muriel highly doubted that even her mother would let the crown be picked up by her if she finds out that Muriel had been born with the curse of sorcery. And the mer would have never accepted her as their queen. So Muriel went to where she was accepted.

Not as a queen, though. The black towers was where any sorcerer now would ever be truly welcomed. Sadly, there were only three of them in the whole land. One in each of the three great realms - Cridian: the realm of the shifters, Elysium: the realm of the witches, and Alabalbara: the realm of the great Fae.

Muriel had found the Elysium black towers first. With the deceiving dark sorcery in her veins, she had taken on the identity of a previously missing sorceress in training whom she had ensured first discovered secretly committed suicide. And for years now, Muriel had been wearing another's much darker skin.

Based in the far eastern of Elysium, the high black towers of the sorcerers were mostly vailed by the east mist that shielded it from the rest of the community. It meant Muriel had to fly in close enough in order to have been able to make out the beginnings of the tower's form even in daylight.

Dark cloak tucked in tight, Muriel sored her crimson carpet in for the wide northern stone terrace. Landing gracefully with the immediate rolling snap shut of her carpet following her drop, Muriel pulled down the hood of her cloak and momentarily threw a look behind her to the edge of the terrace. Built ten thousand steps high up in the clouds, the only way in was by airborne, which every sorcerer and sorceress was able to reach once they get their awakening spell out to rouse the half-life in the non-living.

"Cathara".

Muriel turned at the voice. Shoneah, darkest blue-haired and ebony black-eyed, shrugged off from one of the statues, dark grey cloak fluttering in the fading mist as she approached. Despite it being several years already, Muriel still found herself not utterly used to the identity switch. Although she did more than well in hiding it.

She gave an acknowledging gesture to which the fellow sorcery in training returned. "Lahaba called to see with you in exactly ten minutes", Shoneah said, releasing the part of her cloak that she had tucked in tightly.

"Do you by any chance happen to infer why?" Muriel questioned, tapping a long tipped nail on her carpet, dark grey light sparking and causing the rolled up mat to shrink so she could tuck it into the satule at her waist.

Purple sparks puffed out in an instant burst of magic, and Shoneah's ebony carpet materialised as she began aiming for the terrace's edge while she answered. "No. No doubt it would have something to do with the guardian's visiting, though".

"Of course", Muriel replied, because really, of course all the sorcerers and sorceresses have been saying these days is about the guardian's sudden much earlier than usual annual visit. The guardians - all nine of them, once every year come for a visit to check up on the black Towers and its sorcerers. Three to each tower across the land.

Muriel gave her co-apprentice a fleeting look as she passed. "Going down to the city?" Muriel asks. Muriel and Shoneah had been, and are still both sorcerers in training of Lahaba: the sorcery mistress of the tower. No, that was Shoneah and Cathara. Muriel didn't exist here. The lost queen of the mer didn't exist here. Only Cathara, her false identity did.

"Lahaba had me go fetch some herbal ingredients and spell books from the witches council head', Shoneah responded, carpet lifting levels upward, and poised for take off.

Miriel grimaced. "Oops... I think that's supposed to have been me".

Shoneah waved her off, getting on her black ride. "It's nothing much. See you at sunset".

Mist spluttered as Shoneah sored off, immediately disappearing in the fog. But Muriel still pitied her, even when she was long gone. The witches, though the most lenient with their undermining of sorcerers in the entire land, were still cruel and uninviting to them.

'It could always be worse', Muriel had used to console herself whenever she was subjected to their disdain during every long or quick visit down to the magic realm below. And it was worse. The rejection sorcerers faced in society even after centuries of centuries had passed since the black wars were worse in the other great realms. And the worst in the rest of the realms where sorcerers did not reside at all. Muriel would know, Lahaba had taken Muriel and Shoneah on countless official visits outside Elysium over the years.

Muriel clenched the hand that was still tucked into her satule, as her gaze went to the foggy skies. Which was why she felt bad she had been the one to intentionally manipulate Lahaba into switching up their schedules for the day. While Muriel had just gone to the woods for lire fruit hunting, Shoneah had taken Muriel's own task of going into the city for the errand of fetching the herbal ingredients and new spell book.

When Muriel sensed the wizing approach of another rider, she pulled her hand out her satule and tugged back on the hood of her cloak before quickly walking off into the tower.

The black towers was truly her home. Passing sorcerers and sorceresses, young and old alike, Muriel responded to each of their passing waves and greetings and acknowledging with one of her own.

The atmosphere was tense, though. The guardian's annual visit always brought that dreadful cloud hanging over the black tower every time it approached.

Making her way to the apprentice's level, Muriel headed for her moderate room to quickly change out of her soiled hunting clothes before she met up with Lahaba.