With each gentle wiggle, Cateline felt herself being brought back into consciousness. Despite her failed sense of sight, she could still hear the rustling of cotton sheets she rested on. She could smell roasting potatoes and vegetables cooking downstairs, the idle mumblings of whoever was in the room alongside her drowned out in the ringing in her ears. Cateline felt alive again. Aside from the tormenting icy inferno she had experienced, she was at ease. Not an inch of her skin screamed in pain, nor did she feel paralyzed. The only terror left was her lack of sight.

The muscles surrounding Cateline’s eyes twitched in a weak effort to open and allow the blinding light to completely awaken her. Nothing but darkness surrounded the Princess, the endless void only accompanied by the sounds that beckoned her response. When she opened her mouth to cry out only a croak escaped, each sour effort causing her throat to grow more constricted. Perhaps the girl was paralyzed after all.

“Princess Cateline,” a smooth voice whispered, “are you awake?”

A pair of long fingers wrapped around her forearm, a cooling sensation coursing throughout her veins, and ultimately reached her head in a rush of relaxation. Her mouth parted, and the air finally left her lungs in a gasp.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open and the dimly lit room began to take over her senses. The lantern’s flame danced along the wall and cast shadows throughout the room. Her vision was bouncing in and out of focus, and as her fingers reached up to rub her temples she winced at the feverish skin. Eventually, she turned her attention to the Pureblood Elf who studied her curiously.

“Leolina?” The Princess's words were but a hoarse whisper. The harsh cheekbones were even more exaggerated under the dull lighting, with each shadow the flame threw across her face only accentuating her striking features. Leolina’s golden eyes peered down at the girl, her brow furrowed.

“You put up quite a fight,” Mistress Leolina snickered. “Even with the spell I used, we weren’t sure how you were going to make it out.”

“Spell?”

The Elf sighed and walked to the opposite corner of the room, picking up a silver pitcher and poured a glass of water. “For a mage with such potential, you are awfully clueless. You have much to learn.”

Cateline accepted the glass of water from Leolina before lowering her gaze. Each sip coated her throat in a ripple of delight, soothing her dry throat. Every movement she made was slow and ached, her bones almost as brittle as broken glass.

“I don’t think I want to learn more,” Cateline said matter-of-factly. She could feel the Elf’s stare on her as she spoke, the awkward and still air overcoming the room.

“And why is that? Surely, I thought you were a Princess prepared for battle.”

“Not quite, my mother said it wasn’t my place to fight.”

Mistress Leolina hummed and moved to the end of her bed, each hand placed on the opposing posts. “I think you are doubting your fate.”

“Fate? I am no warrior. I cannot use magic; it will kill me before I see the light of tomorrow!”

“That obstacle is only temporary, one day you will set the world on its knees. That type of power does not happen overnight.”

“A papercut is only temporary, but I won’t see myself tormented with that over and over again just to learn something that does more harm than good.”

“Cateline, I can’t let you go home just yet,” Mistress Leolina said with a certain scale of strength in her voice. “What happened, as you are most likely aware, was not normal. Your body reacted in defense to whatever was happening, that magical intuition deep inside your core protected itself. It should never erupt like that—you can run away from Lighthelm, but you will only kill yourself for not fixing the true issue at hand.”

Slowly, the girl sat up and rested her back against the wooden frame. Cateline recoiled as the dull pain shocked throughout her spine, but it was very minor compared to what it could have been.

“What is this true issue, Leolina?”

“I am not so sure. But whatever might be happening is powerful. Beautiful, dangerous, and powerful. I want to help you figure out what is happening, and master it.”

Leolina’s words grew louder by the end of her sentence, her expressions gleaming with excitement. Those narrow eyes sparkled with mischief and hid a secret beneath the surface that frightened Cateline. What scared her more was the truth behind her seemingly manipulative words. Cateline was oftentimes naïve, but being surrounded by Royalty and Lord’s who only wanted claim in her family’s political influence meant she had to grow accustomed to the average tactics of exploitation. It seemed Mistress Leolina was ticking every one of those boxes with each interaction.

“More importantly,” Leolina continued as she walked towards the door, “you are in no state to leave quite yet. Your parents would have my head decapitated if you went home as beaten and bruised as you are. I will have someone bring you some food within the hour. Rest well, Cateline, I have some tests for you once you have recovered.”

───── ❝ 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖊𝖓𝖛𝖞 & 𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈 ❞ ─────

Cateline hardly ever experienced loneliness. In Axulran, she was either surrounded by butlers, servants, or her family. May it be her brothers who would run around the halls, screaming about whatever foolishness they were getting themselves into, or eavesdropping on the servants during their gossiping sessions. She always had something to do or somebody to talk to. At Lighthelm she was alone. The three people she had met were anything but friends, and the Mistress of this academy seemed too manipulative to handle. All she could do was sit in this wooden bed, clenching onto her bedsheets and wait for her body to heal from the trauma it had experienced days prior.

One thing that struck her as odd was how little she was physically harmed. Inwardly, she felt as if a horse-driven wagon had run her over a million times, but physically was unscathed. It made no sense. Half of her body was engulfed in an internal fire, while the other had surely been frostbitten. Cateline looked at her fingers, furrowing her brow at the smooth skin; not a single pore seemed affected. It should have been impossible.

“Cateline?” a tiny voice whispered. “The Mistress told us you were awake.”

She turned her head to look at the silver-headed girl, her gray eyes scanning Cateline with worry. As Aiora stepped into the room, Varin and Thaddius followed suit and looked towards the Princess in surprise.

“You look…” Varin let his sentence trail off into silence.

“She looks fine,” Thaddius said with a perplexed frown. Aiora walked over to the bed and looked down at Cateline’s arms curiously.

“Whatever the Mistress did to you worked, Cateline,” Aiora said under her breath with a frown.

“Why the frown? Is that not a good thing?”

“On the surface, of course, it is good. Keep in mind, there are always repercussions to magic,” she said to the Princess.

Cateline pursed her lips at Aiora’s response, her eyes moving to the satyr and his friend. They both stared at her with wide eyes, a twinkle of worry residing underneath their surface expression. Varin’s eyes revealed much more than the satyr’s brown ones, and with each crinkle that surrounded the corner of his eye uncovered his true emotions. The two were scared, although they did their very best to conceal it.

“What type of repercussions?”

“Not necessarily on your end, but we aren’t so sure what Leolina’s intentions were when she saved you. Magic does not choose bias—if the intent is good, good will come. If it is bad… well…”

Cateline looked back at Aiora as her sentence trailed off. “How could the Mistress have had ill intent if her goal was to save me?”

“Nobody is all that sure what Leolina’s goals are, Cateline. But there is no sense in worrying about that right now, I am sure you are hungry. Varin?”

Varin snapped his head towards Aiora and shook his head, “What am I to you, a butler?”

“Not to me, but we have royalty in the house, hmm?”

Aiora’s words dripped with scorn at the word royalty, her lips curving into a playful sneer. Without further argument, Varin turned and trotted down the stairs. The satyr smiled at the interaction, finally moving from the corner he was hiding in and stood closer to the girl. Cateline had never really observed such a creature up close considering there were no Satyrs in the Kingdom of Axulran. In fact, there were not many of any creatures amongst humans. It was entirely mundane; after exploring Lighthelm, and seeing the diversity amongst the academy alone, she began to wonder how her parents kept her homeland so boring.

Thaddius had long brown hair that stopped at his shoulders, his horns spiraling twice before reaching out at a point. A jagged scar followed his left eyebrow down to his jawline, his thin lips almost as sharp as his horn.

“I am curious to know what she did to you,” Thaddius said in a whisper, his thick eyebrows drawing downwards. “What do you know of magic, Cateline?”

“Well,” The Princess started with her lips pinched into a circle, “not much. My parents did not approve of my capabilities.”

With a shrug, the satyr looked over at Aiora, their expressions of apprehension. Down the stairwell was a clinking and clattering, heavy footsteps finally making their way into the room with a thud. The Lord rested a rusted silver platter on the table next to the Princess, his face grimaced.

“Any other chores you’d like for me to do, Princess?”

“Watch the attitude, Varin,” Aiora warned sternly. Her lips curved into a smile that suggested an emotion other than sternness. Cateline was oftentimes perplexed by this group and felt like an outsider, but it was a breath of fresh air to see such varying dynamics. With royalty, there were only a few primary personalities. The most prevalent being the greedy, the manipulative, and the stupid. Some may force themselves to fit into one of those categories, it grew tiring to see the same old dance over and over again. Most cared about land and power, some cared only about being the victor, and the rest were too focused on their score of women and the idea of war that their brain was otherwise dormant.

“You all seem concerned with how Leolina saved me,” Cateline said after a moment, decidedly ignoring the snarky remark from Varin.

The group remained silent. They all shared looks between each other as if silently communicating what to say next. Surprisingly, the one who showed the greatest distaste towards the Princess answered.

“We do not know much of Leolina, just that she is the founder of Lighthelm. She chooses who enters, who leaves, and who is worthy of teaching. That was the first time we had ever seen her use magic, and frankly, we aren’t sure of its origin,” Varin said.

“Origin?”

“Dark and light magic, Cateline,” Aiora nodded.

“How could it be dark magic if it prevented death?”

“Dark magic is not evil,” Thaddius chimed in. “It is simply magic that relies on things other than the natural elements. Ice and fire, for instance, are opposing elements that are naturally made with the elements from the earth. Dark magic, in contrast, can take things that should not be and twist them into existence. It is draining, difficult to master, and oftentimes fatal either to the sorceress, victim, or both.”

With a gulp, Cateline nodded and balled the blanket between her fists. She wondered what her parents knew of this world, of magic. Perhaps the idea of dark magic is why they spent so many years trying to hide her magic from the world. Originally, Cateline paid no mind to the lack of magic in Axulran, most likely due to her ignorance to its widespread existence, but each new factoid that was sung into existence terrified her more. She was nothing more than a naïve girl, one that only felt powerful and all-knowing before traversing to Traburg. Cateline had never questioned, nor had she ever been questioned. This reality check was causing great inner turmoil for the Princess.

“We will leave you to rest, Cateline,” Aiora said after a moment. “No need to worry about the unknown right now. Tomorrow’s a new day. We will start anew, perhaps with a little less fire.”