"No," she muttered on and off, in and out of consciousness as night drifted to dawn.

A nightmare had surpassed her in her pained distress. She was with her family in the encampment, eating around the Pit under a calm night sky. Everyone was so happy and thanking her for her bravery and compassion to help those condemned. Then arrows whizzed from the trees around them from all directions. They were trapped, but by who, she couldn't tell.

She screamed in horror as children and teens dropped dead one after the other. Cries of agony and cries of victory chorused the air and the sky thickened with black clouds of death. A hole grew within the clouds and began sucking up the dead, followed by the Commander's malicious laugh.

Mageia jerked awake into a heavy pant as if she was a string cut away from leaving the world and entering the Halls of the Gods.

"Rise and shine, lassy," said a Taefo guard preparing a basin of water. At some point while she was unconscious, they had brought in a mini table. "Time to bandage you and freshen you up for the Court."

"Did they find them? The children?" she asked the guard.

"I have orders to tell you nothin'," he grunted.

Her stomach churned, and bile spewed into her mouth. She coughed it up and vomited onto the floor.

"Yuk you damn Strange," he said pulling out his keys to unbind her from the chair.

A Fair physician scrambled in dressed in noble robes of a master with his nose turned up to see he had to aid a Strange. He placed his fancy leather bag on the table and shook his brown bald head while he took out what he needed. Mageia then noticed the shiny emerald silk along the hem of his robe, identifying him as more than just noble.

"Hurry Master. We don't have all day," the guard bellowed. "She needs to get to the palace before six or the warden will send her to the Runes."

"You mean I won't get a day in Court?"

"Oh, you'll get it, but whenever it's assigned," he said. "It may be months until then. By then the mines'll eat you up."

"I have it from here," the doctor said with a dismissive hand.

The guard scrunched his nose at the man before taking his leave. Once the door was partly closed, Mageia noticed the doctor had stopped what he was doing to stare at her. Mainly at her eyes.

"Don't worry doctor, I don't bite," she said.

"I'm Joras Thrand, Master of Medicine in the Royal Court."

"Great. You're from Hiilaan," she frowned. "Did you leave the comfort of your cushions to come and see the notorious Strange called the Purple Thief for yourself?"

"Are you a soother?"

"I am flattered Master Joras," she grinned knowing her teeth were capped with dry blood.

The doctor scrunched his stubby nose and grabbed what he needed. He took a seat in the chair in front of her.

"Answer my question. You may be pardoned-,"

"I'm not going to be pardoned for my crimes just because I am mystical."

"Are you a mystical?"

"I don't know, really."

"What is your sooth?"

"I am not a soother as I told the Fiisen," she said to her dismay. She knew if she was, the doctor may be right about receiving a pardon and become a noble servant to the Crown like the Commander. She'd rather live in the mountains until old age to avoid kissing the boots of the Fair throne.

"You don't know what you are?" he said.

"I do know, right now I am someone in great pain, arrested for doing what is right."

"They were chosen sacred for the first sacrifice," he said. "They had to substitute with adults last night."

"May they rest in peace," she muttered. "What I do not understand, is why sacrifice those the gods see Strange? Why not give them blood of the purest Fair rather than the blood of the cursed?"

"Mmhm," he said. "That's a good question for those above my status."

Mageia studied the doctor as she allowed him to dab the cuts on her face with a liquidated herb that stung the sensitive flesh. "Easy doctor," she grimaced.

"Heard you got a beating from the Commander, but your bruises are near to healed," he said.

"That's good to hear," she said licking her lips for the cuts only to find them scabbed, but near to gone.

He grabbed what he needed and turned to the arrow wound to treat. "You lost a lot of blood. How do you feel?"

"Hungry, thirsty," she said feeling her stomach growl.

"Hmm," he said patting the wound. She flinched from the sensitivity of the flesh, but the pain from the night before had somewhat subsided.

"That's strange."

"What's strange?" she said.

"The wound. It's gone."

He pressed a hand along the area awaking a sharp pain. She seethed her teeth and wiggled away. "Ouch, don't do that."

"It hurts?"

"No duh. I got penetrated by an arrow."

"Yes, but the entry wound is closed," he said then checked in front of her shoulder.

She gave him a confused look. "What're you talking about?"

"Have you ever been stabbed before or receive an open injury?"

"No," she said eyes narrowed at the older gentleman. "Only cuts and bruises, but they would always heal fast. Never thought anything of it."

"Are you in pain?"

"A bit of aches and such."

Master Joras backed away to study her from head to toe with his gray eyes. Hands placed on the belt of his breeches he pursed his lips deep in thought. He sat again and carefully peeled back the charred fabric of her breeches where the Commander had burnt her. Mageia gasped seeing the burn mark in the print of his hand had already begun to heal, giving a reddish appearance.

"Unbelievable," she muttered. "I got stabbed in the leg too."

He carefully propped her leg on his thigh and raised her bloody pant leg. He searched for the stab wound and found only a long scab. He gently pressed the area and Mageia flinched. Their jaws dropped in shock.

"It's almost healed," she said. "And I thought I broke a bone or something too."

"Quite strange," Master Joras muttered blinking in shock. "There's blood everywhere as if your wounds were drastic. The warden said you were close to death. Possibly dead by now."

The door to the room opened and the guard scolded. "Hurry up in here. We have orders to clear this room."

"Very well," he said bushy eyebrows furrowed in uncertainty. He grabbed a tiny coin pouch and placed it into her hand. "It's amberia leaves for the pain. Eat one at a time when needed."

He rose and returned to packing his things. Mageia was speechless. This never happened before. She tried searching for memories of receiving open injuries and found none. However, there was one time when she fell from a tree. She broke her ankle, but within a day it was healed, and she was back to running and climbing trees.

"Purple Thief, I need you to clean yourself and change into something more decent for your Court appearance," the guard said carrying items.

"Master Joras," she said. The doctor halted and turned to face her. "Why did you come?"

His brow quivered together as he thought of his response. He glanced at the guard pretending not to listen.

"Someone interested in your case persuaded me to do so," he said and before she could ask who, the man was gone.

After she cleaned herself from the blood, she was given a dress for a proper lady. A dress that made her skin crawl because she knew it belonged to someone else who had died. She then was escorted into a barred wagon with two other prisoners, and they set off northward to Hiilaan where she would face the High Court of the Royal Palace.

They took the King's Road, the busiest street in the entire kingdom. It trailed from the palace in the north towards the south to the border of the Runes. Both Fair and Strange, free and bond, rich and poor shared this street, especially as one drew closer to the Royal Grounds. Mageia soaked in everything from the beautiful stone buildings, houses, and temples upon hilltops to the bright, colorful, and sparkly attire of the nobles.

Ahead, the Hiivale Wall sat like an iconic beacon for the Kingdom of Ardania. Chiseled into every stone were tiny specks of emerald, possibly from the Runes centuries ago. The morning sun rays flickered off the gemstones creating a greenish hue surrounding the wall as far as the eye could see. She'd seen the Hiivale and Hiilaan only a couple times in her young life. The last time was a dark day that ended with blood streaming from her wrists and her gasping for air.

She fumbled with the collar of her dress and realized she was trembling.

Gods above, I hope they escaped and are back home safe.

Dean was a smart and keen boy. She knew he would do what was right and get everyone out of Ardania. He always went with his gut when need be. Her eyes flooded and she turned away from the staring prisoners to restrain herself. A sense of stupidity overwhelmed her for not listening to Dean and Trekon. This was a terrible idea, but her heart fluttered alive with relief.

There is nothing wrong with doing what is right, her mom had told her once.

I wish you were here now, mama. I need your guidance.

The wagon jerked to a stop and the driver barked at someone. Mageia strained her neck to see what was going on ahead. The guards from the Taefo on horseback glared angrily at a wagon that had unfortunately broke a wheel. The rear guard brought his horse around to the side as slaves and servants passing by stopped to assist.

"Hey," someone whispered.

Mageia glanced down through the bars and wished she could jump for joy.

"Faebrin, oh gods."

"I'm sorry for...this," he said fixing his gray cloak of Midlaan.

"No. Don't be. You did right to tell us about those children," she said then asked the question that's been bothering her. "Did they make it?"

The boy gave a proud smile. "Yes. They all are fine."

"Thank the gods," she said feeling as if the gods had lifted one burden off her shoulders.

"You're priority now," he said.

"No. No," she ordered. "Do nothing. I can take care of myself."

"Dean will not like this."

"I don't care. I don't want anyone else at risk," she said. "I have a court appearance."

"I figured. They only bring prisoners to the palace in these," he said. "I'm going to see if I can get in."

"No. I don't want you anywhere near the palace or in Hiilaan."

"I'll be fine, Mageia," he said and grinned. "I learned from the best."

Mageia frowned touching the boy's fingers through the bars. "Please be careful, Faebrin."

"I will," he said eyes glazing but he restrained himself.

"Hey boy!" the rear guard shouted as he made his return to his post. "Move from there."

Faebrin scuffed and turned his back to the guard and tugged deeper on his hood.

"What do you want us to do?"

"Do nothing but leave Ardania. To Bravelaan, beyond the Runes, or even Greenlaan. Anywhere but the inner cities. Let that be your priority."

"Boy!" the guard bellowed.

Faebrin began to walk away. "We love you, Geia. May the gods be with you."

And with that the boy slipped into the crowd. The guard swung his baton and slammed it against the bar forcing her to back away to avoid being hit.

"Try anything stupid and you'll end up in the Halls before your time in Court," the guard threatened.

"Oh defect yourself," she muttered and shifted back into her seat.

The wagon shivered back to life and continued towards and under the Hiivale. As they came over a hill of beautiful rowhouses and single houses of Hiilaan, the Royal Wall came into view. Stretching far from towards the western forest and across the Hii River, the Royal Palace sat majestic behind its own massive wall. And as they drew closer, the intimidation heightened as Hiilaan soldiers were everywhere, patrolling the area.

People seeking the Court for various reasons entered the gates in muttering silence. Finally, Mageia's wagon entered the gates and followed the crowds of people towards a wing of the palace with six large, decorated pillars and tall doors. Horse or mule drawn carriages and wagons sat in rows along a strip of land by the wall and various vendors sat in one section hoping to lure people to their stalls.

Her wagon of prisoners drifted into a caravan of prisoners going in the same direction, passing by the hordes of people until they were behind them. The road descended and twisted to the left where they entered a tunnel beneath the Court. Instantly the precious daylight shifted into dimmed lanterns as the caravan came to a halt. The air hung cold and deathly with a rotten stench of unclean bodies. Mageia forced her face to appear fierce, hoping it'd hide the nervous jitters in her bones.

Chained by wrists and ankles, Mageia and the prisoners were escorted into green double doors. They crossed a dimly lit foyer filled with guards from the Runes, the prison known as the Dungeons, and various places all over Ardania. Eyes watched her in both awe, fear, and disgust as she scurried through hoping no one decided to be a fool and pick a fight. As if reading her worries, a fight erupted from the line of prisoners behind her, and they were forced to move faster.

They shoved her into an overcrowded cell with people who quickly scurried away from her as if her purple eyes would curse them further.

"You's a witch?" a scruffy man said with soot caped into his pale skin.

Mageia ignored him, realizing something horrific. If she was a soother, with a gift of the gods, the Court might be lenient towards her. However, if she didn't know what she was, and couldn't prove she was no threat to others, it could alarm the Court into suspicion of sorcery. And sorcery in Ardania was an immediate fate of execution.

She put her back to them to face the chaotic hallway. She closed her eyes flooding with tears and swallowed hard.

Oh gods, I don't want to die.