The War of The Magi : Book One

Chapter Thirteen

Ylva sat atop of a hay colored mare, her head cocked just ever so slightly to the side, her eyes in a terrible glare directed at nothing. A well worn path flowed between rows of trees and shrubs and the wind blew just barely enough to cause a whisper. She slowly moved her head to the other side, a slight light reflecting and shimmering in the air. Her brows rose and her tongue let out a soft click. She had witnessed people moving freely between this barrier, their carts and horses not even affected. However, any time that she had tried to move past it, she was stopped.

She had managed to, in her own way, politely ask a passing traveler what city was down the path. They had laughed in response, telling her it was nothing more than a simple village by the name of Rosewater. She wanted to strangle the man that had told her nothing more than the name and proceeded to leave.

Ylva cracked her neck while waiting for anyone to travel across her, but there were none so far. She had begun to think what could have put such a strong barrier around a meaningless village and came to the conclusion that it had to be a high form of magic. She slid off her mare gracefully, as if she had years of practice, and led her into the woods. Ylva paused and wrapped the reins around a thick, low hanging tree branch and continued walking about. She extended her hand, eyeing where she assumed the barrier was, and began to follow it.

With her hand extended out, her eyes darted back and forth as she looked at the ground as she walked, stepping over rocks and moving out of the way of large bushes, but always keeping her hand against where the barrier was. She paused momentarily and looked up, feeling the strength of the magic. She pulled her hand away and moved it in front of her leaving a trail of white flames behind where her hand moved.

Ylva's eyes landed on a small, flowered, bush. Her brow furrowed as she took another step closer to it, a small grin dancing across her face. She knelt close to the bush, her fingers touching the leaves and petals. It was as if she could feel the energy of the magic emitting from the bush. She glanced around, ensuring that no one from the path could see her, but she was far enough away where she looked like nothing more than a rock. She then looked to see if there were any other of these magical bushes around, and seeing that there were none, she stood up and extended her hand, the white flames now encircling the bush. The magic engulfed it, tendrils of smoke rising in the air.

Ylva turned to see if the now burnt bush was the cause of the magic barrier. She couldn't see the shimmer that was once there. With a wicked and sly smile, she walked confidently back to her horse.

Ylva traveled down the path and sure enough, the village was unimpressive. Why the commander of the King's Army would come here, she had no clue. The people looked at her, stepping to the side as she came in. She wasn't sure if it was out of respect or fear, but kept her feelings to herself. She sat up straight in her saddle and flicked her hair out of her face with a clean motion. Her eyes landed on the largest building in the area, which just so happened to look somewhat abandoned. "Is the inn not opened?" she questioned in a calm and loud manner.

The way her voice rolled out commanded authority and only one person stepped up to respond. "Unfortunately, it is not, my lady. The owners left just a few days ago."

Her eyes drifted towards the man who spoke, his old age giving away his position in the village. "What for? It seems to be in good condition." The man let out a soft cough and sensing his unease, she turned her eyes back to the inn. "I'm interested in buying it."

The man glanced around and upon the approval of the other villagers, began to talk. "A knight came by a bit ago, took one of their girls, and gave them a large sum of money. He left, and the next day, they left. The building is good shape, though."

Ylva had heard enough. She turned her mare around and began to gallop out of the town, ignoring the villagers. Her face was lit up, hard laughter crying out over the wind. Magnar has bought himself a whore, she thought, her laughter echoing in her mind.

Yet, something nipped at the back of her mind as she slowed from a hard gallop to a slow trot, until finally her mare had paused. Why would a village have such strong magic protecting it? She slowly pulled off one of her dark gloves, an intricate black symbol that pulsated with energy on her hand. She raised it to her face, stretching her fingers.

A voice hissed out into her mind. "What did you find?"

"He bought himself a whore from some inn," she responded back in her mind. To anyone who walked by, Ylva was merely examining her hand and the symbol that was there.

The voice hissed again. "That's it?" The tone of the voice was a mix between shock and disbelief.

Ylva continued on, her eyes boring into the symbol. "There was a spell cast to shroud the town in a barrier." Hearing no response back, but the symbol continued to pulsate, Ylva continued on. "The town's name is Rosewater."

There was a quiet, nearly inaudible hiss. "Keep following my directions, Ylva. If you manage to catch up to them, keep your distance."

"What of the town?" Ylva managed to ask before the Prophet would cut off their connection.

"I'll send a few Magi there. see if they can coerce a few of the villagers to talk more."

With those final words, Ylva shoved her hand back into the glove. She continued on the path, a slight bit of unease tugging at her mind.