The Modern Scheherazade

Healing

Hi,

It's me again, the Scheherazade. This story is about a sorceress and her apprentice. Her broken hearted apprentice to be exact. And if you take anything away from this story, let it be that all doors never close at the same time. I think that's important. This story is one of my shorter ones, sorry about that, but I really like it.

She had never hated someone she never met before.

She hadn't. It went against all her morals, all the lessons she had to learn the hard way.

But she hated him.

Nijiera hated the young hero who broke her apprentice's heart. She stopped pacing and

glanced at Madragana, her apprentice. She was still crying.

That hero, that Indus.

He told Madragana he loved her. Lied with his words and actions, only to get the chance to kill Nijiera. In the end her faithful Madragana told him she would never betray her mentor for him.

Because of this, a scar now marred her beautiful face. The pink scar contrasted violently with her bronze skin and only made her look more vulnerable. Her tightly coiled golden hair was as tangled as a wild horse's and her amber eyes were puffy and rimmed with red.

Nijiera remembered the day she first came to her. She had only a decade of life. Her father was of the empire, like her ex-lover. Her mother, a dark souther like Nijiera. This took any chance of belonging with either of her parents people. So little Madragana went to Nijiera, the famed sorceress.

She was a pitiful sight when she showed up on her doorstep. Her hair was matted with mud and her face was scratched. She was wearing a dark purple cloak, probably her father's, that was so large it seemed to be swallowing her. She still had that cloak and she wore it often, no matter how faded and worn it was. A smart girl she was, and still is, she was prepared to beg of she had to, but there was no need. Nijiera took her in without a second thought.

Madragana had always been like a daughter to her.

She sighed, rubbed her hand over short hair and started pacing again.

Madragana refused to help Indus kill Nijiera, but damage had already been done. Indus found where they lived. Nijiera could tell this fact hurt her poor apprentice as much as the heartbreak.

Nijiera was never upset with her for what had happened. She had been tricked, manipulated.

Now it was Nijiera's job to pick up the pieces and put Madragana together again and she was happy to do so. Anything to make her smile again.

But the situation made her uncomfortable.

She could practically feel Indus scrutinizing every detail he had learned form Madragana, picking Nijiera apart bit by bit. The feeling was like an itch she couldn't scratch, a gaze she couldn't get away from.

The worst part was she couldn't stop it, she was powerless. That was the whole reason she became a sorceress, so she wouldn't have to feel that way again.

She sighed and rubbed her hand over short hair. Confronting Indus or waiting for Indus to come to their home would hurt Madragana more than she had been already.

That meant they had to leave.

She hates running away, but it was better then Madragana getting hurt again. Madragana's safety and happiness would always be her first priority.

Running it would be.

They would go to Nijiera's homeland. Then maybe to Madragana mother's. Then Nijiera realized, a door was closing, but so many more were opening. And maybe with time Madragana would see it too.

She hoped so.