Unto Dust

020.

Fiona had managed to string together a semi-coherent excuse and all but fled from the navy building. Who was she kidding? She had run like a pup with its tail between its legs. The room full of mages would think her a soft witch, useless and prone to tears. She now sat at a table in the mess hall, staring into her bowl of chili, a solid mass of guilt lodged in her stomach. She had thought she was prepared for the consequences. That she would grit her teeth and bear whatever came her way to return to Grannad. It would be easier had Enjo acted in malice.

Weren't we family?

She almost yearned to return to the surface, apologize for everything, and go back to selling wares on the streets. Of course, there were a great number of reasons she could not. The chief being, she would not be allowed free to return to the surface, and if she did, folkway mages would hunt her like a dog. Qafiya would likely lead the charge. Between the huntsmagi and folkway mages, it would take a miracle for her to survive.

Such things reminded Fiona that her freedom was a mere illusion. She had permission to go wherever she desired in Faersidda, and a magicked pouch allowing her to purchase anything or stay anywhere. She even had the perceived trust of the most powerful wizard within the village.

It was merely a long leash. She was still chained here, just as Orithin was.

How had he endured it for so long? She had been here days, and the yoke was already chaffing at her.

A glass of cool water was pressed into her hands, and she gulped down half of it. It coursed icily down her throat.

"You look horrible," chimed a shrill voice. A young girl with closely cropped blonde hair took a seat across from her.

"Like you might keel over at any moment," agreed her friend, a boy with fiery red hair and pink skin.

"Thanks for the drink," she said in a voice that did not feel like hers. She looked down at her chili, though she had no appetite at all.

"Say, yer the one from Grannad, right?" The girl gazed up at her with wide, deep set eyes. There was a smear of meat sauce on her chin. "Whut 'sit like there?"

Fiona thought of white marble and oaken doors. The chatter of students. "Boring," she said.

The boy tore a chunk of bread and tossed it into his mouth. "Avessa and I---we've never even seen the sun. Is it hot?"

She could only stare blankly at such an admission. When she found her words, she asked, "How old are you two?"

"Twenty," said Avessa. "And Joey's nineteen."

Younger than Suli. Old enough to live at Bitter Sway on their own.

But surely mages had visited the surface. Suli had been. So had Podge, Wembley, and Goldy.

"Why haven't you two seen the surface?"

Joey merely shifted his shoulders in a flippant gesture.

Her voice was careful, measured nonchalance. "Is it allowed?"

The petite blonde bobbed her head. "It just takes a pass. Anyone can apply fer it. But that costs money and we have better places to squander our copury."

Fiona looked from small girl to the tall twig-like boy next to her. "Are you two from Vesmille?"

"Questing," Joey said, shoveling the last spoonfuls of chili into his mouth and standing. "Come, Avessa. We've spells to finish learning."

After the pair left, Fiona managed a few more bites of the chili before she gave up on it. Though she hated to waste food (and a copury), if she forced herself to continue eating, she would likely hurl it up later.