Everyone was gathered around - well, those that knew from whence I came, anyway. Benjamin, Alice, Lou, Slick, and Dorothy. I’d said I’d be sharing some stories about my home, and they decided to make a night of it.

I’d decided to tell them of my mother’s favorite story, first. She’d told me the tale of how she’d met my father many times, in exquisite detail. I wouldn’t share it with quite her enthusiasm, or all the details she chose to include, but even as I settled into my seat, I could almost see her starting to pace with excitement, eager to start the story again.

Memories of her voice filled my mind, as the words began to leave my lips.

--------------

“Where are they?” she screamed, as another wave of fire rushed over the fleeing masses. “I was told they would be here!”

She glared furiously at the remains of the castle. There was supposed to be a cabal of monster-crafting casters here, that she’d come to wipe out. As far as she could tell, she’d done nothing but slaughter a few dozen political figures.

A flicker of magic caught her attention and she turned. Was it…?

No. Just an ordinary caster, not even worth a mote of her effort. He was trying to help evacuate the others. She wouldn’t get in his way.

Many of the mundanes had enchantments, and some of the knights protecting the rich-looking ones had even required some real effort. But they couldn’t properly control the magic, so of course, they had no chance.

Not against her, the heart of the Fire Dancer clan.

Exile of the Fire Dancer clan, you mean? A nasty thought wormed into her head, and she ignored it, just as she ignored the screams of the terrified mob.

She looked over the castle and surrounding area with magesense, looking for any hint of what she’d been told.

Nothing. I’ve been misled. Betrayed. Tricked into murdering people… again!

She was really getting tired of that.

A flicker of guilt tugged at her, and she pushed it away. It wasn’t her fault. She was betrayed, and she’d pursue her betrayers. False foundations of a deal were a type of betrayal, just as much as outright reneging on deals, and everyone knew how to deal with oathbreakers.

She surveyed the area again, hoping that she might have been wrong, that there had actually been insane mages here that needed to be killed.

Something faintly registered in her senses, and she looked at it closely. It didn’t make sense. It was almost like a hollow area, where magic slipped around, and never interacted. That wasn’t natural…

Her instincts saved her hide, as she immediately dodged the attack that hadn’t yet started. From that flickering shield of void magic - actual void magic! A truly capable caster! - came a flurry of spells that dazed her to even perceive. The speed of the attack was staggering.

Not that they’d have pierced her defensive enchantments.

Probably.

“Come and face me!” she yelled, delighted, and let the flames dance around her body.

She didn’t wait, though - she’d never been known for her patience. The depths of fire ripped out of her soul, igniting the air and ravaging the location of the void shield.

It slipped and… was gone.

Teleportation! She grinned. Excellent!

Magic flickered behind her. He arrived, and the magesense blocking void shield couldn’t come with. She felt a myriad of enchantments, so thick with magic that she could barely even tell there was a soul inside that body. Even examining them for a fleeting moment was dizzying - nothing felt particularly powerful, but they were dazzlingly intricate and efficient.

A challenge!

Her laughter turned almost to giggles as she released another wild wave of magic, only to feel it deflected away. The enchantments recovered from the blow admirably, but she had felt them buckle under the strain of her power.

More power, then, and you’ll fall, little enchanter, she thought.

She drew her might closer to the surface and noticed he was doing something within that little bubble of creations. It didn’t matter, though. Nothing he could do could match her raw power.

As soon as the blast was released, she felt a sudden, dizzying twist of reality. He’d…

He’d switched places with her.

“Fuck.”

Her own blast slammed into her, but with her control of fire, it was no true threat. She absorbed the energy as the energy of movement, and as a result, her body went shooting across the sky. Such was her speed that the air ignited on encountering her body. Had it not been for the barriers constantly protecting her flesh, her speed alone would have annihilated her.

She continued to weave the magic of change, Flamus, to her will, and redirected her movement to a spot of contained air in her hands. When movement was unified, the object moved through the world. When it was chaotic, it was simply heat. A true fireball rested in her hands, bound by the whispering barriers that enclosed it.

“Taste the true might of Flamus,” she said, grinning wildly as she turned to face the ball of assorted magics that was her foe.

It was euphoric to realize that he was a true threat. He could kill her. Her playfulness subsided somewhat as she started to take this seriously. She might truly see what she was capable of, with him…

She charged.

He disappeared.

Her magesense spread like a wildfire, spreading across the surface of Camelot, until she reached the flickering hub of his shields.

A hundred miles…

He can’t keep it up.

She charged towards the sphere, and it disappeared again. She ground her teeth, and flew towards his next location. The heat of her passage withered the trees and bushes beneath her, as though from a drought.

After the third teleportation, she paused.

Even she didn’t have enough power to simply chase after someone using teleportation magic, and then best him in combat when he finally ran out of whatever enchantment fueled that teleportation.

She’d felt him casting, and he hadn’t used nearly enough magic for a stunt like that. No, this had been prepared ahead of time.

Which meant she couldn’t catch him.

Yet.

---

“You betrayed me,” she growled at the quivering man in front of her. “There were no monster-creating mages there! Only three spellcasters in the entire castle, and two were simply guards!”

“Please, Selina, I did not know the information was false,” the man sad, his eyes wide with terror.

“Then you’ll tell me from where you got the information,” she hissed.

“L-letters,” he said. “I can show you them all…”

“Letters?” she demanded. “Words? Literally just words on paper? You arranged to get me to come help save your nation because of some words on paper?”

“Please…” he said, falling to his knees, too terrified to stand. “Please have mercy, Selina.”

“Mercy,” she spat. “Because of your idiocy, hundreds of people are dead. Who were they, anyway?”

“I… if the information was wrong, I do not know…” he stammered.

“Useless,” she muttered. “By right of traitor’s redemption, I claim the right to your mind and soul.”

He closed his eyes and recoiled, but said nothing. It was a way around the moral quandary of prying into the minds and souls of others - if a spellcaster had been wronged by someone, they could claim the right to access the perpetrator. The more severe the wrong, the greater the right of access. Breaking faith in a deal with one of the great powers of the world was the most egregious offense, and was considered an offense against the world itself.

Of course, the only people it meant anything to was other spellcasters. Mundanes quite literally couldn’t do anything about it.

She’d had to learn mind magic in the course of her life, even though it wasn’t Flamus, and as such, she disliked the feel of it in her flesh.

Knowledge blossomed in her mind, and she soon was snarling with rage again.

His mind had been tampered with. This was another spellcaster, manipulating her through this idiot pawn.

And you fell for it. So who’s the idiot?

These annoying thoughts kept intruding into her mind.

“You were used by someone else,” she said, feeling nearly overwhelmed by frustration. “Your mind was made their tool.”

“I… I was mind raped?” he asked, horrified. “Truly…? What was taken from me?”

“I’ll pursue the one who did this to you,” she said, though she hadn’t the faintest idea how to find them. “I could set you to rights, but…”

“Please,” he said. “Whatever they did… please…”

“I’ll see your soul,” she said. “I suppose I’ll spare the effort if you’re worthwhile.”

He flinched, and try to beg her away, but it was too late. She grabbed onto his throat, and felt his flimsy sparks of magic - the faint bit of spirit present even in mundanes - pushing at her hand.

She shoved her sense into his soul, to see what he was made of.

The initial emotions pushed at her probe. Terror, mostly. Shame, humiliation, and embarrassment. Honestly kind of hard to see through the sheer intensity of the terror.

But that’s not what she was looking for. She pushed deeper.

Greed. Self gratification. Pride. Desire to be admired.

Pathetic.

For someone this worthless to have been successfully used to turn her into a weapon…

Her teeth bared and magic flowed, almost without her conscious awareness.

Ash drifted through the air where a man had been kneeling, and her hand fell to her side. Guilt tried to find her heart again, but she pushed it away, as before.

It was his fault for being so worthless, after all.

Was it truly?

She walked out of the building, leaving the pesky thought behind her.

She’d have to find that mind mage. Manipulating the minds of others in such a way was one of the only truly forbidden uses of magic in all the world. While the crime itself was enormous, the revelation that the mind mage existed was even greater.

How could the world be safe with a person like that within it?

She stood, contemplating, and suddenly realized that mind mage could have had an enchantment of some sort near his pawn. She intensified and spread her magesense and felt…

… a flicker of void magic.

“You!” she yelled in shock, as she turned to face the invisible shielding in the shape of an orb.

Fear briefly grasped at her heart, as she realized that the enchanter had been watching her. Without her noticing him, he could have…

It didn’t matter. The fear blended with the lingering frustration and guilt, erupting into an inferno. She launched herself at him.

But this time, she sent disruptive waves of energy through the air. Subtle, for her, and it would have the effect of making enchantments more difficult to control. He’d only be able to teleport through this if he were as skilled as she was powerful.

She readied a blast to catch him, and…

He disappeared.

She blinked, then howled with laughter.

“Brilliant!” she said, grinning to herself.

She’d need to up her game, just to catch the little coward.

The next three times she spotted him, she’d improved her approach. The third time, she managed to completely disable his ability to teleport, and he’d revealed that he could use Flamus magic for travel in the same way she could. Significantly weaker, and would have been easy to catch… except he simultaneously used gravity altering magic on her.

Stupid, god damned enchanters.

------

“Selina, you are not welcome in this place,” said the booming voice as she walked across the plain.

It was a nice afternoon, and perfectly suited for walking. The ten foot tall archangel beside her was interrupting the view.

“Your voice isn’t welcome in my ear,” she said. “Buzz off, feathers.”

An eyebrow raised on his perfect face.

“This land is favored by the god Auloman,” he said. “Creatures of death are forbidden.”

“Thanks for the information,” she said. “I take it you’re his avatar? So tell him that I’m not here to kill anyone. I’m following a lead.”

“Your reputation extends into the very pantheon,” he said. “Death follows you wherever you go.”

“I’m here to save people,” she said, glaring at him.

“Your intentions have been well observed,” he replied. “This does not change the result of your existence.”

“You’ve pried into my soul?” she asked. “By what right?”

“I am the avatar of the god of the harvest, Auloman,” he replied.

“Yeah, and you think that means something to me?” she said, rolling her eyes. “You can tell your god to go fuck himself, and if he’s got an issue with that, he can come talk to me personally. I’d happily give him some specific suggestions on the process.”

“Your irreverence is not wise,” he said. “You are surely aware that Auloman is more powerful than you, and would certainly kill you.”

“Obviously,” she said, stretching out her arms. “But I’d wager that I’d leave him in a hard way by the time I died. And I wonder how many casters would enjoy an opportunity to try to become the god of the harvest?”

The avatar was silent.

“Thought so,” she said. “If he comes for me, we both die, and so I’d take it as quite a sign of his adoration, if he chose to die just for little ol’ me.”

She grinned. “So, as I was saying, he can go fuck himself, and if he wants to keep his avatar, instead of building a new one, you ought to never fucking touch my soul again.”

“Despite the hostility of your phrasing, the truth of your intentions are known,” he said. “Auloman does not need to be your enemy, Selina. There are concerns with the current god of death, and Auloman would support your ascension into that role.”

“You’re telling me I’m not allowed into his favored territory, but he’d support me becoming a god,” she said flatly.

He stopped walking and gave her a piercing look. Something about the intensity of it gave her pause, and she stopped to meet his gaze.

“You are dying, Selina,” he said.

“Fuck off,” she said, breaking eye contact and starting to walk again.

“You have known this,” he said from behind her, and her steps faltered. “Your approach to magic is consuming you. Without purpose, without meaning, you will be reduced to ash.”

“I have purpose,” she snarled.

“Your ability to convince yourself of that is waning,” he said. “When it breaks, so too will your control of your magic.”

“And with it, my soul, yes, I know,” she said, rolling her eyes again. “I take it you’ve visited the elders of my clan.”

“You do not have a clan,” he said. “You were not deemed ready to take the mantle, and they were correct. You can become worthy of your power, if you choose.”

“Thanks for the advice,” she said. “Oh, right, I forgot, I didn’t want any.”

He was reminding her of things she didn’t want to think about. To distract herself, she took a deep breath and let her spirit go, sensing out the sweet life of the forest.

“Again? Seriously?” she growled, turning her attention to the ‘hollow’ spot in the forest. “Can I have a conversation without him showing up?”

She was not in the mood to go chasing after him again, so she simply glared in his direction. For some reason, the void magic hiding him weakened, making him easier to spot with her magesense. And even more strangely, he didn’t move.

“He is not a concern to you, Selina,” the avatar said.

“You know who he is?” she asked sharply.

“I know many things,” he said. “Simply accept that he is not a threat to you.”

“I’ve been trying to track down that bastard for months,” she said. “What’s it been? Four, five months, he’s been following me around? If you know who he is, you will tell me.”

“I will do no such thing,” he said.

“I can force the matter,” she said, letting her magic sear her flesh, bleeding out in spurts of flame.

“Perhaps you have forgotten that I am not in possession of free will,” he said. “You are simply incapable of forcing me.”

She rolled her eyes again.

“You think I’m an idiot,” she said. “Of course I know that. But if you have knowledge, then so does Auloman, and I could get it from him.”

“You believe that it would be easier to force a god into sharing knowledge than it would be to catch this enchanter,” he said dryly.

“It… well…” she hesitated. “He’s slippery, is all.”

“Auloman is not particularly susceptible to coercion, and certainly not by force,” he said. “Further, if you died in the attempt, you would not gain the desired information.”

“Fine,” she said, frowning. “I’ll just have to catch him, then.”

“That is unlikely,” he said.

“You think I can’t do it?” she said, glaring at him.

“With the information available, I am certain that you lack the ability,” he said.

“You can go fuck yourself,” she said. “Imaginatively. In the meantime, I will be busy proving you wrong.”

“Your agreement to not enter this territory for the time being is noted,” he said. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

She made a rude gesture at him then launched herself at the enchanter. As soon as she even released the faintest smidgen of magic laced with the intent of pursuit, the enchanter disappeared.

That time, she pursued him for three days before exhaustion forced her to stop.

It was six months to the day of that first encounter, as Selina went walking through a forest. She’d been attacked a few times by some mindless, rampaging beasts, but they’d proven to be nothing more than a bit of amusement.

As was her newly formed habit, she pulsed her magesense every few hours, in case the enchanter came back. Sometimes it was days between his visits, and sometimes weeks. She still hadn’t even found out what he looked like.

She’d been disappointed with his absence the last few weeks. He was fun to chase. No matter what method she came up with for pursuing him, he was always at least one step ahead.

At the moment, though, she didn’t feel like chasing anyone. She was feeling melancholy, and unwanted thoughts were catching up to her.

She crested a hill and admired the way the sunlight trimmed the leaves with gold. It was a lovely sight. An hour passed in quiet appreciation.

Magic emerged behind her, and she turned to face it.

“You,” she said, surprised. “No void magic this time?”

He stood there, vaguely visible behind the haze of his defensive enchantments, unmoving. He didn’t say a word.

“What do you want with me?” she asked.

He never spoke. She’d tried once or twice to engage him in conversation, and after a minute or two, she always gave up and charged him. Prompting him to bolt, naturally.

This time, though, she wasn’t in the mood.

A minute passed while she stared at him, curiosity growing in her.

He took a step forward.

She was on her feet in an instant, flames encircling every inch of her flesh. But she didn’t attack or approach him. Curiosity stayed her hand.

He held a staff that pulsed with magic woven into beautiful, intricate layers. In the hands of a competent caster, this was a mighty weapon.

To her utter confusion, the staff was lightly tossed to the ground. His movements were almost painfully slow, but it allowed her to watch every little motion he made.

Another step.

She swallowed, abruptly uneasy. Was this a trap of some kind?

An amulet of masterful craftsmanship, so beautiful to her magesense that it was almost painful to look at, was tossed to the side as carelessly as that staff.

The haze of magic diminished, and she got her first solid look at him.

For a spellcaster, he looked average. Perfect skin, hair, and physical health, naturally. Looking average simply meant he wasn’t vain - he hadn’t cultivated his appearance as some casters did.

Still, he was pleasing to look at. His eyes were ice blue, his skin was pale as death, and his hair was completely black. From the mountains of Akerash, then. The sharp lines on his face and somewhat hooked nose gave him a rather predatory appearance. The smirk on his face added to the image, as did the wicked amusement in his eyes.

His appearance was utterly unlike hers. Her clan had bred themselves as part of their worship of Flamus. Skin the color of desert sands, hair as red as the flames they adored, and a natural talent with Flamus unlike anywhere else in the world.

Her speculations were cut off as he took another slow step, and tossed a gauntlet to the ground. Like the other pieces, it could have ransomed a king.

Slowly, one step at a time, he approached her. With each step, he discarded another of his enchantments. By this point, she was stunned into inactivity.

Finally he stopped, only a few feet from her. He was naked before her, save a simple, unenchanted robe, that had been fitted well to his figure. There wasn’t even a speck of magic on him.

Absolutely vulnerable.

“What is this?” she asked, frowning at him. “What are you trying to do?”

His eyes tracked her, and his smirk grew minutely. But he didn’t say a word.

“You know I could kill you, right?” she said.

Still nothing.

“I’m not to be trifled with,” she said, glaring at him.

Another moment passed. Her frustration started bubbling up.

“Whatever this trap is, I’m not falling for it,” she said, letting her magic flow more thoroughly. “You attacked me. I’m going to take a look.”

No reaction. She extended her magesense around him, slowly and carefully. She didn’t know of a trap to catch someone from their magesense, but this felt like a trap. A gentle poke at his spirit revealed his surface emotions.

Just… calm. That was it. A bit of amusement, and a few deeper layers that she couldn’t quite penetrate due to his control, but mostly just calm. He truly was not afraid.

“You don’t fear me?” she said. “At all? You… you’re an idiot!”

Not even the faintest flicker of fear touched his spirit.

“No one mocks me,” she said, letting her frustrations show clearly in her magic. “Defend yourself or die.”

A wave of fire passed from her hand, and enveloped him, withering the grasses immediately around his body.

But… magic is will made manifest, and will is born of desire.

Deep down, she had not truly desired to harm him, and so the flames simply brushed against his skin. No doubt he’d been uncomfortably warm, but he’d suffered no harm.

He failed to suppress the smile that overtook his arrogant smirk.

“You’re laughing at me,” she said, her jaw dropping. “You… you’re insane!”

He raised an eyebrow slightly at that, but continued his utter silence.

She let her defensive spell die down. The flames withdrew, and she looked mortal once more.

“You attacked me, that day,” she said. “By right of war, I claim access to your mind and soul.”

She was bluffing. She didn’t really believe she had any moral leg to stand on, to violate this man’s mind and spirit, but she was going to push him into action somehow. If this didn’t make him move, what would?

She walked forward and thrust her hand at his throat. He didn’t flinch and simply let her hand grasp the skin of his neck.

A gasp escaped her. No magic pushed her hand away… not even the natural resistance of a living spirit. To actually, fully touch the flesh of another spellcaster, without any defenses…?

It felt so… intimate. She pulled back and felt a strange impulse to blush. He continued to gaze at her impassively, his face back into its original mildly amused expression.

“Fine, so, it was just a bluff,” she said. “I don’t have right to you, I know that. But you should have… you should have resisted me! Why? Why are you doing this?”

Nothing but the glittering amusement in his eyes.

“Well, if you’re not going to answer me with words, I will pull it out of you,” she said. “Let’s play a game, shall we? If you want me to not dig into your mind and soul, resist me with magic, or say something, or… just about anything, okay?”

She reached towards him again, now trepidatiously. She moved slowly, but still, he did… nothing. It was as though he were simply admiring her, and thought nothing of her approach.

The warmth of his chest filled her hand, as she was too uneasy to touch his skin again. She’d had sex that had felt less intimate than that. Come to think of it, she’d never had sex as intimate as that touch had been.

She relaxed into her magesense, and flowed into him.

Her awareness of his calm deepened, and her eyes grew misty.

Peace.

Utter and complete peace. It was like a drink of cool water to her parched soul, and she almost cried out from the feel of it. Unconsciously, she leaned forward, as she fell deeper into his quiet depths.

Pride. A confidence so absolute that had he not pulled off the stunts she’d beheld, she’d have called him mad.

Admiration. He had been admiring her. He was thoroughly enchanted by her.

Trust. He had utter faith in her. He had somehow been completely certain that she would do him no harm. Or was it trust in his own judgement of her?

And this emotion… deeper than admiration. It couldn’t be love… no, that’d be an even greater madness.

She pushed past the emotions of his spirit, delving deeper into the core of his being.

Determination. An overwhelming hunger for the power to fix things. A need to have true, uncompromising control, and utter disinterest in illusory control.

A sense of purpose. He was driven, insanely driven, towards… something.

She pulled back, her world spinning.

I am a dancer, and he… he is a song.

“Selina,” he said, his voice warm, her name a delicate prayer on his lips.

She simply looked at him, dazed.

“My name is Jax Koryn,” he continued, and raised his hand invitingly, in a gesture she’d seen a thousand times. “May I have this dance?”

------------

“And she danced with him,” I said, smiling at the group. “That is the story of how my father became my mother’s ‘harness,’ as they often joked.”

“Well,” Lou said speculatively. “That was… interesting.”

“Yeah,” Slick said, frowning. “Your mother sounds kind of… um…”

He looked like he didn’t want to offend me.

“Monstrous?” I suggested. “Murderous? A ravening terror across the land?”

“Um… yes,” he said, looking surprised.

“She was,” I said. “She fully admits it. It was my father who taught her things like patience and restraint. She’s still… not very good at that, but she’s more than happy to throw my father at political situations when she gets annoyed, rather than blowing them up.”

“So she’s not like that anymore?” Alice asked.

I shrugged. “That was a long time ago. Sixty or seventy years, I believe. She’s still the same, at heart, just more at peace now. She doesn’t destroy things without excellent reason anymore.”

“Uh huh,” Slick said, looking unconvinced.

“But she’s over there,” Lou said. “So it’s not really a concern.”

“Except, Aera,” Benjamin said. “Does all that seem… well, normal to you?”

I was finding myself surprised by their reactions. I’d expected them to find it sweet and romantic. Or at least amusing, but it was like I’d told a horror story.

“Yes?” I said, uneasily. “I mean, it’s not acceptable to slaughter others like my mother did. But the rest of it… it’s all ordinary.”

“You were talking about gods, and archangels, and monsters,” Dorothy said. “That can’t all be real, can it? Just stories?”

“Monsters are common in my world,” I said. “They mostly seem to stem from people with magic like mine, that can shape life, and have modified animals and plants. Sometimes wondrous creatures are made, and sometimes horrific ones. Either way, if they’re made well enough that they can breed true, they become a new fixture of the world, for good or ill.”

“That sounds horrifying,” Alice said.

I shrugged. “It is the way of the world. Death from old age is rare, for mundanes.”

Alice simply shuddered, and Lou asked a question. “What about the gods?”

“Gods are simply spellcasters who gained enough power to slip out of normal reality, and command some aspect of the universe,” I said. “‘Archangel’ is just a term that I’d used since nothing else seemed to fit, for the crafted servants of a deity figure.”

The group was silent for a moment. Lou was giving me an uneasy, appraising look, but didn’t say anything. Most of the others seemed a little shaken.

“I need a drink,” Slick said abruptly, and headed off to the kitchen.

“Yes, a drink would be lovely,” Dorothy said. “Alice, if you would get me something, dear?”

“Glad to,” she said, flashing a smile at Dorothy as she got up. “Anyone else want anything?”