Page 143 of Death of a Mortal

The cold metal in my hand gave me flashbacks to the throne room, to my time after, confined in the dungeons while I waited and wished for death. I shuddered, then shook it off. If this worked, it would help keep a lot of innocent people safe—I had to do it.

After passing pens of cows, sheep, and pigs, I smelled the blacksmith’s area before I saw it—the scent of hot metal and charred wood was overpowering. In a small, open-front building not unlike the blacksmith’s in Dolvenar, I found a young fae sorting what looked like nails. He looked to only be fifteen or so.

“Hi, um, who’s in charge here?” I asked.

He looked up at me, and his eyes grew wide before he took off running to the back of the shop.

Reactions like that were really getting old…

An older mortal man, maybe forty of fifty, came from the back. Black smudges on his face made it hard to tell but the thinning brown hair at the top of his head gave his age away.

“I’m Naci. I—”

“I know who you are,” he said, eyeing me suspiciously. “Dray said you wouldn’t be working with the Guilds for a few more weeks. Why are you here?”

Super not friendly. This was not going well so far.

I cleared my throat. “Well, I have a favor to ask. I want to see if you can make me something.”

The man just stared, his dark eyes boring into mine.

I pressed on nervously. “I have this magic-blocking cuff here, and I want to see if you can melt it down into a ring for me, to keep as a fail-safe while I’m…learning about my abilities. For protection.”

“Damn right we need protection from you. Would have that cuff on all the time if it were up to me.” He snatched it from my hand.

My heart plummeted. There were so many here who feared me and despised me. Didn’t he see that was precisely why I was asking him for this?

“I’ll get it to Dray when its ready,” was all he said as he turned his back on me.

“Thanks…” I murmured as I left the shop, my spirits entirely shot.

I was used to fae despising me on sight from growing up mortal, but having a mortal look at me with such pure hatred was a wound to my heart. I still felt the mortals were my people.

It was because of the fear and resentment toward me like this that I had decided I wanted this ring on me at all times. Something that I could easily slip on if I started spinning out of control. I was nowhere near ready to tame my beast and control my shadows, so until then, I needed to be prepared to shut it down. The idea of having it on made my mouth dry and my palms slick, but I knew it was necessary.

At least with a ring, no one needed to hold, or withhold, the key to take it off.

* * *

Back at mybarracks, I really had no choice but to open my books. Sevrin scared me more than Garrick, and I didn’t want to delay myreturn to his lessons. I mean, I did want to, but I really needed the information he had.

So I sat down on my bed and opened the book on glythyrs and set to reading. For hours. Until the excitement and mystique surrounding them had just about worn off completely.

It turned out that glythyrs were specific to the fae who created them. There wasn’t a set way to draw them that anyone could follow. It sounded like a delicate art form to translate your own magic and intentions into a symbol to imbue with your power.

I was the furthest thing from an artist, and this sounded complicated as hell. Writing them was complex—how in the world did Sevrin think I could interpret others’ if they’re specific to the creator? I could definitely see how that would be useful if I thought for a second I knew how.

The rest of the early chapters were dedicated to the origins of raw magic, which was neat for the first few pages, noting that it was initially the gods’ own powers combined into a well that sustained the Vale and the gods’ realm, and that created Caelia. But after several chapters about the history of the gods, I grew bored, thumbing through without fully comprehending.

It wasn’t until I flipped to a chapter titled “Creating Your First Glythyr” that I perked up. It was a simple one (according to the book) that would briefly levitate me. I read through the instructions twice before steeling myself with the courage to try it. This one used raw magic, which I’d grown comfortable with this morning, and seemed less volatile than my fire and shadows. Though glythyrscouldbe created using elemental and raw magic, they were apparently often temperamental when magics were combined, and unstable when only elemental. It was better to wield elemental magic yourself, according to the book, and save glythyrs for raw magic.

As the book instructed, I commanded my raw magic to flow to my left thumb and drew a circle around me on the bed. Once the circle was connected, I placed my palm down and closed my eyes,concentrating on the humming raw magic in my heart the way Bramick had taught me earlier.

In my mind, I clearly said the words, “Levitate the body enclosed in this circle for three seconds and then lower the body back down. Glythyr is then complete.” The book’s direction was to clearly articulate three things: the instruction, the object on which the instruction should take place, and the completion conditions, at which time the magic should dissipate.

When I spoke the words, the same sensation started in my heart that I’d felt using raw magic to tie Bramick’s shoe, but this felt more like it was sucking the magic out of me straight from my source. It made me lightheaded and dizzy.

With a gasp, the sucking sensation stopped. I lifted my palm and opened my eyes to see a faint white glow coming from the circle I had drawn around me, two swirls snaking under where I sat. The feeling of imbuing it with magic was uncomfortable, but the thought that I had just created a glythyr, as basic as it might be, excited me.