From my current work in progress, "Dark Dealer."

Her eyes locked onto a curious sight, a lady in bright red appearing to sail across the ground through the crowd of scavengers. There was a hum emanating from her, bright light reflecting from the dress that should have blinded the scavengers. Yet she walked among them without anyone taking notice, waving her hands to generate wisps of white-hot light that entered the dead dragon’s skull. Within a moment the monster’s teeth hovered outside, and the woman opened up a pocket in her dress to hide them. Despite the size of the teeth, no lumps appeared in her dress. 

Athela had heard stories that people could wield power like this, but never hoped to see it herself. Power like that could have saved her family the day Athela was orphaned, and she wondered if the woman would take an apprentice – or even could. Maybe magic was innate, locked within a soul it chose and loosed only as it saw fit. Or maybe it was open to those who would reach out and take it, like the woman took the dragon’s teeth for medicine. 

Nearby scraping sounds alerted Athela, and she ducked down before anyone could see her atop the perch. Scanning the nearby mesa, she smiled at the sight of a migrating bush grove, knee-height red-stalked flower plants lazily soaking up raindrops and soil led by a nymph who would reach Athela’s waist. The plants were likely drawn by the dragonfall, seeking better soil and aware that the monster’s nutrients would make the dirt far more palatable for their roots.  

Looking up cautiously from her perch, Athela grew fearful at the sight of a few armed scavengers heading her way. She had nowhere close to run atop the mostly flat mesa, recalling a few other pits far enough away that she would be out of breath by the time she ran there. The men were not weighed down by armor, and they could easily overtake Athela if they wanted her for the night. Athela had escaped that pain so far, but other orphans had told her of the horrors of unwanted attention, and she was keen to avoid it. Oh, how she wished she was approached by a traveling grove of trees instead! 

Lacking options, Athela waved frantically at the nymph and ran toward it, hoping this one could speak. If she could convince it of the danger, perhaps the bushes would shield her from the scavengers. 

“Hey!” Her call toward the nymph was met with ambivalence. “Help! Someone’s coming after me!”  

Athela’s cries were quickly met with hostility, the nymph intertwining its branches into sharp points and stretching its roots to grow in size. Athela stood still and put her hands in the air as she looked down at the creature. “Please, can you help me?” 

The nymph shook its heads and let out some high-pitched whines, a sign that it did not know how to speak human words. She knew that it was unlikely to find friendly nymphs far away from the city, and she cursed herself for traveling so far just to see a dragonfall. The monsters kept to the skies most of the time, sleeping on clouds, and if Athela had staid beneath the streets with the other orphans where it was safe, she could have seen one as an adult.  

Athela turned and placed a hand over her mouth to hide her whimper at the site of spearheads approaching her perch. She began to run as the scavengers climbed to the top, cursing herself once more and hoping she had enough of a head start to survive their pursuit. The scavengers seemed to think her viable prey, carefully running around the grove to avoid the nymph’s ire. 

In the distance, Athela saw some sort of formation rising from the ground, perhaps a boulder, and she decided to run toward it with the vain hope that there would be shelter. Once she arrived, she doubled over and panted as she realized it was the decomposing log of a once grand tree, trunk scarred and discolored by the ravages of time. Barely trotting to the end of the log, she sighed in thanks to realize that it was hollow and just small enough to fit her frame where the scavengers would not follow.  

Just missing being hit by a thrown spear, Athela held her breath and placed her head inside only to shriek at the world within. The woman in the red dress had built an ornate home under the ground beneath the log, and she locked eyes with Athela. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, she found herself pulled back onto the frigid mesa where she was certain the scavengers were about to remove even her torn rags. She screamed, knowing that their ears would not be assaulted enough to make them stop. 

Don’t let them in. A foreign thought appeared in her head as one of the men shoved her to the ground. Don’t let them in, girl. By the power of the air, do not let them in. 

Athela closed her eyes and took a deep breath, thinking as hard as she could about the power of the air as invasive hands tried to rip away her tattered skirt. She heard the sound of a tear that was soon followed by a confused sigh. Opening an eye, Athela was equally confounded by the sight of a rip in her skirt simply resulting in more fabric appearing. 

Closing her eyes, Athela thought deeply once more. By the power of the air, keep them out. Both scavengers seemed to be pushed away by some unknown force, and when they tried to reach toward her, a barrier kept them at bay.  

Finish them. By the power of the air. 

Athela nodded at the voice in her head and smirked as she stood up. She spread her hands at a slight angle, and the barrier keeping the scavengers out seemed to extended beyond them. They began running toward the edge of the mesa, and Athela found herself keeping pace through some unknown power. Within moments, she had cornered the scavengers at the edge of the mesa where they panicked at the sight of the sheer cliffside. 

Finish them now. By the power of the air. 

“Let us go! Please! We’ll give you the best of the dragon meat!” One of the scavengers clasped his hands together while his companion rolled his eyes, resigned to his fate. Athela seriously considered his offer for a moment before shaking her head and pushing them over the edge, chuckling at their screams.  

Athela returned to the log and crawled inside, the woman in the red dress nodding and pouring her a mug of tea while her guest descended translucent stairs. They studied each other carefully for a while, the woman examining Athela for some higher purpose as she marveled at her rescuer’s glory.  

“You called out to the power of the air, and it called back.” The woman smiled slyly. “The principalities do not answer all who call. There must be something special in your soul.” 

Athela shrugged. “I’m an orphan, miss. Nobody has seen anything special in me since my parents were taken by the Archon of Loduly.” 

The woman’s eyebrow raised. “And did that leave you wanting vengeance? Was something taken that you seek to take back? By any means?” 

Athela hung her head. “I know I shouldn’t, but I’ve thought a thousand times about killing those guards, watching them bleed in front of their children.” 

The woman shrugged. “And why shouldn’t you? They did you wrong, it is only fair that they receive their just reward.” 

Athela’s head shook. “You mean… I have a right to seek revenge? To darken their lives like they darkened mine? But how do I know if they truly deserve all I do to them? If I fight back with this… power of the air.” 

The woman laughed. “They should have thought of that before killing your family, little one. Nothing obligated them to meet out death and horror. You are merely returning your pain to them. The world is full of men like them who need to be killed. How do you think the families of those scavengers will feel when their bodies are found?” 

Athela gasped in shock. “You don’t really think they had families, do you?” 

The woman placed her hand on Athela’s wrist. “They should not have attempted to violate you. Families or not, they should not have touched you if they wished to return home. The heartbreak they cause is their own fault, and you are absolved of any guilt.” 

Athela pulled back and cringed, remembering teachings that were condemned in the cities. “You’re… you’re…” She gulped. “You’re a witch!” 

Rather than frowning like Athela expected, the woman threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, you say it like it’s such a bad thing! The power of the air is the key to a life of freedom for those who answer the call. You can protect yourself now, little one, you can protect others. Not just a protector of those you hold dear, but an avenger. Now, you can go back out there try your luck eating raw dragon meat, or you can live with me. Proper clothes, food, and all the magic you can conjure.” 

Athela’s eyes widened at the prospect before her face turned sour. “And what do you want in return?” 

The woman winked. “It’s not what I want, it’s what the principalities want. And they want you.”